#shoulder pain exercises to avoid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

midnightdevotion · 4 months ago

Text

Not Real (1)

Hi Guys!! I mentioned writing this fic back in august??? anyways sorry for taking so long. I'm trying to have more balance with my creative hobbies and do them more regularly.

Description: Hangman, ever elusive and avoiding commitment finally finds the one. Except she doesn't think love is real anymore. Part 1

Warnings: Depression, Reader loses themselves, Slow burn, and I do use y/n so sue me ig

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female Reader

Readers POV

It's an uncharacteristically rainy day in Southern California. You heave a small sigh at the ever lasting grey clouds. To be completely honest, your life has felt like an everlasting grey cloud recently.

Heart broken one too many times, seemed to take the color out of life. You were someone who looked at fuzzy bumble bee's and grinned. Who felt the wind blow against her skin and let it relax any tension.

Now it was like nothing but grey existed in your mind. You didn't know how to escape the hallow shell you have turned into. It felt like the person you were is so far gone and yet you still vividly remember every thing. Every thing you loved about the version of you, you just can't seem to reach any more.

The easy laughter no longer came, the yellow sunshine your personality was described as now ashes and dull. The worst part of all of it was nobody noticed.

Nobody put together how your entire world was ripped away and nobody saw how it changed you. How you could barely get through the day, crawling back into bed as soon as you get home.

These endless grey days lasted months. A good thing would happen, you got a raise, and cried to yourself later that night. It was good, why didn't anything feel good, why didn't you feel like enough anymore.

------

You could feel the change, not sure when it happened but it felt like it was so slow and then all at once. One day you couldn't imagine being happy ever again, and suddenly, one day you had your spark back.

You'd never wish on your worst enemy the 8 months you had just lived through, the thoughts that haunted you now just painful memories you can push to the side and leave behind.

You found friends you genuinely feel happy to know. Who have your back in every scenario. It started with meeting Phoenix, or rather Natasha. You first met Natasha after forcing yourself to go to the gym regularly. Hoping the endorphins that release from exercise would help your depression.

In ways they did, like the butterfly effect. You went to the gym, every day for a week and Natasha noticed. She noticed the empty eyes, and came up to you one afternoon. She introduced herself and asked if you wanted to be friends, In her exact words

"I'm sorry if this sounds weird but I work with all dudes and I genuinely need someone to talk to that doesn't rage testosterone, soooo brunch Sunday?"

And it sparked a real laugh out of you, a sound that use to be so common to you now unfamiliar to your own ears.

It's been six months since then, you and Phoenix have grow very close, She has introduces you to a few of her coworkers 'the safe few' she has dubbed them.

It was a usual Thursday night for you when you get a call from her, asking you to come to the hard deck. Which is unusual for her, she usually liked to keep her aviator life separate from her friendship with you.

It didn't bother you, her reasoning of pilots are assholes and your aversion to getting hurt again made it pretty straight forward to take her word for it.

So when you pulled up to the parking lot of the infamous bar she frequents with her navy friends. It feels a little like going into the lions den.

You roll you shoulders and sigh. An old version of you tickling the back of your mind that this is what you should be doing when you're young and single. Not moping because your heart got shattered beyond repair. Or so you believed anyways.

The loud ambiance of the bar was startling slightly, for a Thursday night the bar is packed. A sea of never ending khaki it takes you a few minutes to find your friend.

"y/n!" Rooster calls, one of the few 'safe friends' you have met. He has always been nice to you, and in fact regularly joins your girls nights.

"Hi rooster" you grin at the mustached golden retriever. Giving him a side hug, trying not to feel intimidated by the eyes on you. "nobody told me khaki was the move tonight" you laughed

Rooster shook his head grinning. "I know, it's bad isn't it" and okay it definitely isn't the look for some, but you will definitely attest that rooster and every in this area seems to pull them off well.

"oof" a grunt leaves your lips as you are suddenly hugged from the side, a slightly taller brunette almost taking you down with her on impact.

"Nat what on earth" you laugh.

"I-II knew you would c-come!" She slurred her words and her eyes looked at you unfocused. You furrow your brow and help balance her.

"uh phoenix why did you ask me to come? do you need a ride home?" there was a small part of you that was hoping she would say yes and you could leave the loud crowd, especially feeling like a sore thumb being one of the very few people in denim shorts and a tank top.

"No- No, si-silly. Hangman here said I didn't have any friends, so I bet him I did and that you would come here and prove it." you laughed because Natasha was always betting on things, especially when she gets tipsy. "he owes me fifty bucks now" she grins

"HANGMAN!!" you wince as she shouts in your left ear. You hear a slow drawl that sounds like he's somewhere from the south in reply.

"Yea yea Phe, I will get you cash tomorrow" You turn your head and notice the tall blonde man leaning against the wall. Clearly watching this whole interaction. He gives you a wide grin, one you can tell right away means he gets what he wants and has no problem breaking hearts.

"what I can't figure out is why phoenix has been hiding you all this time" his eyebrow raises when he notice you grimace, his clear attempt to be charming not impressing you.

"probably cause pilots are assholes" is your albeit maybe a little to monotoned reply. It's not that you wanted to be mean. You just had to shut down any attempt at flirting. You don't think any version of your heart could ever love again.

What you didn't expect was for him to cock his head a small smile playing on his lips.

"well Phoenix has always been smart that way" not offended that you basically called him and half the people in this bar an asshole. "I'm Jake though, or as you heard earlier, hangman"

You just nod, finally getting introductions to the rest of the group. Excluding bob and rooster, the only other pilots you had been introduced too.

Despite only being called upon to win fifty dollars (which phoenix is buying brunch for on Sunday) You found yourself enjoying the company and getting to know the people Phoenix spent most of her time with. Finally putting names to faces she has definitely complained about.

At a certain point rooster goes up to the piano, something you had heard he does before coming tonight. You exited the bar for a few minutes to breathe. Thinking about the past and how the old you would be relishing in the socialization, singing along with rooster and the others, no worried and unbroken.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you startle looking to the left and seeing hangman leaning against the wall to the bar.

"Trust me you don't want to spend a penny on those" you laugh, but it feels a little hallow.

"why not, I already spent fifty bucks to prove you existed" that laugh comes a little easier.

"why'd you do that by the way?" you question. he had to have known you were real.

"honestly because phoenix talks about you a lot, and rooster and bob started mentioning you and I was curious"

"curiosity cost the cat fifty dollars apparently" you throw a grin at him, walking out to the sand kicking your sandals to the side to feel the coldness of the sand touch your skin. You weren't surprised when he followed, you kind of expected it.

"it sure did... but I have a gut feeling it was the best money I've every spent" It makes something old and dead flutter inside you, and it scares the shit out of you.

"I don't know you ever spend fifty bucks on pizza when it's just you? cause that's some pretty good self care to me" you can't tell how he takes your evasion of his comment.

"that's pretty good too, but my gut feelings are usually right." in the past maybe heat would've rushed to your cheeks at his comment. Now though, fear rushed to your heart. You turned to look at him. No response on the tip of your tongue, and you were scared how awkward this interaction was going to get.

"well goodnight Darling, hope I see you again soon" and he smiled at you, then turned and walked to his truck. You watched as he pulled out of the parking lot, until his taillights faded. You headed back into the bar to say your goodbyes.

Later that night as you crawled into bed, mind blazing over everything that happened unexpectedly and knowing you'll be in for a tired tomorrow.

You couldn't get the thought of a certain blue eyed pilot out of you mind.

----

Jakes POV

He'd been hearing stories about you for months, Funny, sarcastic, kind, caring, every thing you could imagine in form of stories for months. At first he thought nothing of it, Phoenix having a girl friend is probably good when she deals with him everyday.

Then Bob started talking about you and funny stories with you and Phoenix. Then Rooster added into the group. It was safe to say Jake was feeling severe FOMO.

He had a plan. Get phoenix tipsy and she's pretty suggestible to anything, especially betting. So yes he planned on getting you to the bar, shamelessly flirting with Phoenix's friend and annoying Natasha the next day.

The universe had other plans, because when Jake laid eyes on you, it was like a spotlight was shining on you, he couldn't see anyone else. The bitter rage he felt at roosters hand on your side when you gave him a sheepish hug, burned hot.

So when he hit you with a flirty one liner, and you retorted, usually he wouldn't have given up. He saw it though, in your eyes, the cold dark fear. He became curious, what happened to make you so guarded, and why did he want to solve that so badly?

He sat in that bar and watched you laugh and joke, the smile never really reached your eyes though.

So Jake went home that night, focused on a new goal.

He wants to make you smile-- really smile.

#top gun maverick #top gun #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x reader

196 notes · View notes

purifiedclitoris69 · 9 months ago

Text

The Truth

pt2 darkness and chaos

love spoiling you guys. i never really know what to put up here j like to yap lol. anyway enjoy ;)

angst with fluff and hurt/comfort

pairings: wanda maximoff x enhanced!reader

"I think I'd like some space for a little," you mumble turning away from her as you try so desperately to keep the tears from spilling.

"Okay," she agrees quietly walking towards the door, she pauses looking back as she's about to leave, "I'm sorry, y/n," she leaves.

It took about a week to heal from your injuries; your enhancements and Cho’s inventions helped immensely but the rest of your time in the medbay was cold.

The sterile white walls and beeping monitors were constant reminders that you were alone. It wasn’t just the physical pain—the ache in your abdomen that flared every time you moved—but the emptiness that settled deep in your chest, far more painful than the wound itself.

Days blurred into one another, filled with nothing but the low hum of medical equipment and the occasional visit from the team. Natasha came by when she could, sitting by your bed with gentle words of encouragement, trying to make you laugh. Sam would swing by too, cracking jokes that only barely lifted the suffocating weight you felt. Steve made a few appearances, his hand on your shoulder, telling you how strong you were, how you’d be back on your feet in no time.

But they couldn’t fill the void. Not really.

Because every time the door to the medbay opened, a part of you hoped it would be her. You waited for Wanda, every second stretching into an eternity, hoping that she’d come back and say she loved you.

Once you were healed and out the medbay , something in you shifted. It wasn’t immediate—more like a slow, creeping numbness that settled in over time. At first, it was just avoiding her, making sure you weren’t in the same room if you didn’t have to be. But the distance didn’t stop there. Soon, you found yourself pulling away from everyone, isolating more and more until you were just a shadow moving through the compound.

You stuck to a strict routine now: wake up early, hit the training room before anyone else is awake, then disappear into your quarters for hours on end, either preparing for missions or finding a way to distract yourself. Solo missions have become your escape, and you volunteer for every one, no matter how dangerous or tedious. Anything to get away from the compound. From her.

The team has noticed. Of course they have. Natasha has tried to get you to open up, but you always find a way to deflect. “Just focused,” you’d tell her, throwing on a smile that you know she doesn’t believe. Steve’s asked you to join in on a few team exercises, but you decline, claiming you need to work on personal skills. Even Tony has made a few snide remarks about you turning into a recluse, though there’s concern in his eyes.

The compound itself feels suffocating. The once comfortable space where you’d joke with the others, share meals, and decompress after missions has now become a maze of memories you’re trying to avoid. Everywhere you go, you feel Wanda’s presence—whether it’s the soft hum of her magic in the halls or just the weight of her lingering gaze when you pass each other in silence.

You keep your interactions with the team to the bare minimum. A nod here, a muttered response there. Nothing more than what’s necessary. It’s easier that way. Easier than facing the questions, the pity, the inevitable confrontation with Wanda that you know is coming but can’t bring yourself to endure.

The training room became your sanctuary. You pushed yourself harder and harder each day, punishing your body until it screams for rest. It’s the only thing that makes you feel anything—the burn of your muscles, the sting of exhaustion. It drowns out the ache in your chest, even if just for a little while.

You’ve been reckless, too. Clint’s called you out for taking unnecessary risks in the field, and even Steve’s noticed your tactics have become more desperate. You don’t care. The danger keeps your mind off her.

When you’re not on a mission or in the training room, you’re holed up in your room, avoiding any social gatherings. Movie nights, dinners, even simple conversations in the kitchen—they’ve all become a thing of the past. You can’t stand the thought of sitting there, pretending everything’s fine while Wanda’s just a few feet away, acting as though you’re not both suffocating in the same silence.

Wanda was desperate for things to go back to the way they were.

It’s a quiet afternoon in the compound, the sun casting soft light through the large windows as you make your way to the kitchen. You’ve been trying to avoid everyone—especially her—but it’s almost impossible to escape entirely when you live under the same roof. You tell yourself that grabbing a cup of coffee and heading back to your room won’t take more than a minute. You can slip in and out without a problem.

But, of course, she’s already there.

Wanda stands by the counter, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea. The second you step into the kitchen, her eyes flick up, and you can see that familiar spark of warmth—of friendship, or whatever’s left of it—light up her face.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice cautious but hopeful, like she’s testing the waters.

You force a neutral expression, giving her a small nod. “Hey.”

She smiles a little, and for a split second, it’s like nothing has changed. Like the last few months of distance and silence never happened. She moves over to the counter where the coffee maker is, just a few feet from where you stand, and her presence feels too close. Too familiar. Too painful.

“I was thinking…” Wanda starts, her tone casual, like she’s trying to bridge the gap, “maybe we could do something this weekend? Watch a movie or—” She pauses, her voice faltering as she notices the stiffness in your posture. “You know, like we used to.”

The words hang in the air, a thin thread of hope dangling between you. It’s tempting, that old dynamic, that easy friendship. But you can’t. Not anymore.

You force a tight smile, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “I… don’t think I’ll have time this weekend. Lots of mission reports to catch up on. I’m, uh, heading out for another mission soon too.”

Her face falls, just a little, but she quickly hides it behind another smile. “Oh, okay. Maybe when you get back?”

“Yeah,” you say, but it’s hollow. You’re not sure you believe it. “Maybe.”

You pour your coffee in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. She’s standing so close, so desperate to pull things back to what they were, but you can’t meet her halfway. You’re too hurt, too angry. And you can see it in her eyes—the sadness, the regret—but she’s still acting like everything’s fine. Like she didn’t break you that day.

Wanda tries again, her voice quieter this time. “It doesn’t have to be weird, you know. We’re still… friends.”

Friends. The word stings. You clench your jaw and take a long sip of your coffee, pretending like the statement didn’t just slice through you. “Right.”

There’s an awkward pause. Wanda shifts uncomfortably, her fingers tightening around her mug as she watches you, waiting for something—anything—from you. But you can’t give her what she wants. You can’t pretend like things haven’t changed.

You clear your throat, already looking for an excuse to leave. “I, uh… actually, I’ve got to get to the training room.” It’s not a complete lie. You do spend most of your time there now, drowning out the ache with physical exhaustion. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You’re already halfway out of the kitchen when you hear her soft reply. “Yeah. Okay.”

You don’t look back. You can’t.

As you walk down the hall, your heart aches with every step, but you shove it down, burying it beneath layers of numbness. Wanda wants to pretend everything’s normal, but it’s not. It can’t be. And right now, the only way you can protect yourself is by keeping that distance.

The door to the training room closes behind you, and with it, the mask you’ve been wearing all day shatters. Alone again, you drop your coffee cup onto the bench and run a hand through your hair, the sharp sting of tears prickling behind your eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, desperate to stop them from falling, but it’s no use. The pain is too much, too raw. It claws at your insides, demanding to be felt.

You hate this. You hate yourself. For ruining everything. For letting your feelings get in the way of the one thing that mattered most—your friendship with Wanda. How could I have been so stupid? The thought echoes in your mind like a broken record, repeating over and over until it becomes a dull roar in your ears. You could have kept it to yourself, should have kept it to yourself. If only you had stayed quiet, swallowed your love like a bitter pill, maybe things would still be the way they were.

But no. You had to go and spill your heart out, thinking—hoping—that maybe she felt the same. That maybe there was a chance.

Now, all you have is the hollow, gnawing emptiness of her rejection. The distance that’s grown between you feels like a chasm, and every day that passes, it only gets wider. Wanda’s attempts to act like nothing’s changed cut deeper than any words. You hate that you can’t just let it go and pretend like she can. You hate that your love for her consumes you so completely, making it impossible to act normal, to act like the wound she left in you isn’t still bleeding.

And the worst part? The nightmares.

Every night, you dream of her. But it’s never the Wanda you used to know—the one who would laugh with you, who understood you better than anyone else. No, the Wanda in your dreams is cruel, her words laced with venom. She stands in front of you, her face twisted in disgust as she calls you stupid, pathetic, for ever thinking she could love you. “Did you really think I could love someone like you?” she sneers. “I had the greatest love of my life with Vision, and you—you’re just a joke.”

Each time, you wake up drenched in sweat, your chest tight with grief and shame, your body aching from the weight of the rejection that follows you, even in sleep. It’s torture. You’ve stopped trying to sleep altogether, throwing yourself into training, into missions, into anything that can distract you from the gnawing pain that follows you around like a shadow.

And Wanda…God, Wanda.

Every time she sees you now, her stomach twists into knots, guilt pulling at her like a heavy chain she can’t escape. She’s tried to reach out, tried to act like nothing’s changed, but every time she sees the neutral expression on your face, every time you make some excuse to leave, it’s like a dagger to her chest. She knows you’re hurting, knows that you think she doesn’t care—but she does. She cares more than she ever could have imagined.

The lie she told you that day, the one that broke you? It’s been haunting her ever since.

She can still see the look on your face when she said she didn’t love you, that she couldn’t be with you. It wasn’t just the hurt she saw—it was the betrayal. She knew what you had gone through just to tell her how you felt, how much courage it must’ve taken to lay your heart bare, while you were dying.

You weren’t entirely lying to her, you did have a mission coming up, it just wasn’t planned.

“Hey got another solo, if your up for it,” Nat proposed as she entered the training room, your fist rhythmically beating the punching bag.

“You know it,” you breathed, stopping the bag swinging.

“you leave in an hour,” she pursed a smile, dropping the file onto the bench next to your cold and forgotten coffee.

The mission had been simple enough on paper—intel gathering, no need for backup, in and out. You’d handled it alone plenty of times before, so it made sense that Steve signed off on this one without hesitation. What he didn’t know was how messy things had gotten.

You’d gone in hard and fast, ignoring the usual caution you’d been trained to follow. Maybe a part of you wanted it that way—needed the adrenaline, the distraction. You fought recklessly, pushing yourself further than you should’ve, not caring about the consequences. A knife wound here, slams into a couple walls there—it didn’t matter. You kept going, forcing yourself through the pain.

By the time you made it back to the jet, your body was screaming at you to stop, but you didn’t. You were trained for this, after all. No matter how bad the bleeding was, no matter how sharp the pain in your side, you forced yourself to pilot the jet back to the compound.

As you limped down the ramp, the pain finally caught up with you. Your side was drenched in blood, the makeshift bandage you’d wrapped around yourself soaked through. But still, you didn’t care. You just wanted to get back to your room and forget about everything. Forget about the pain in your body, and more importantly, the pain you couldn’t shake from your heart.

You didn’t think anyone noticed as you made your way through the compound, each step sending a fresh wave of agony through your body. But as you reached your door, your vision swam, and you realized you’d left a trail of blood behind you. That wasn’t great.

You managed to get inside, closing the door behind you with a quiet thud. Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you glanced at the mission report in your hand, half-written and filled with details you barely remembered jotting down in the jet. You were too out of it to finish the thing properly, but at least you’d gotten it done. You tossed it aside, planning to sleep the pain off.

But then there was a knock on your door.

You didn’t need to open it to know who was on the other side. A cold dread settled in your stomach as Steve’s voice called out, “Y/n? Open the door.

You stood, slowly, wincing as the pain flared again, and opened the door just enough to see Steve standing there. His eyes immediately flickered down to the blood staining your clothes, then to the trail leading from the jet.

His expression shifted, brows knitting together. “What the hell happened?”

You forced a shrug, downplaying it. “Got the job done, didn’t I?”

Steve’s eyes hardened. “At what cost?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” You tried to shut the door, but Steve pushed it open, stepping inside.

He stared at you, his jaw clenched tight, then glanced around the room—at the blood, at the half-done mission report, picking it up and looking it over “You didn’t say anything in your report about getting injured.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” you muttered, turning away from him.

“Bleeding out isn’t relevant?” His voice was sharp now, frustration clear. “You’re limping, leaving a trail of blood through the entire compound, and you think it’s nothing?”

“It’s just a scratch,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone even, but the exhaustion and pain were getting to you. “I don’t need you to babysit me, Steve.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Steve said, his voice quieter but no less firm. “This is about you being reckless. You could’ve gotten yourself killed out there, Clint’s already mentioned the other risks you’ve been taking.”

You turned on him, the anger rising in your chest. “What difference does it make? The mission was a success. I’m alive. Isn’t that what matters?”

Steve stepped forward, his eyes searching yours. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on,” you snapped, pulling away from him. “I’m doing my job.”

“No, you’re not,” he shot back, his tone sharper now. “You’re pushing yourself too far, and it’s not just today. “Look i don’t no what happened but ever since–,” He hesitated, his expression softening for a moment. “Ever since you and Wanda stopped hanging out, you’ve been different. You’re not thinking straight. You’re taking unnecessary risks, maybe you should talk to her…clear whatever it is up.”

You scoffed, turning away from him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Steve said, stepping closer again. “And I’m not going to sit by and watch you destroy yourself.”

You clenched your jaw, the frustration and anger boiling over. “You don’t get it, Steve. You don’t—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. “It doesn’t matter.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I know you’re hurting, y/n. But this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

You shook your head, trying to push down the rising emotion. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “It’s concern. You’re part of this team, and right now, you’re a danger to yourself.”

You turned to face him, your chest tight with anger and frustration. “So what? You’re gonna bench me?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, not missing a beat. “I am.

Your heart sank, but the anger bubbled up again. “You can’t do that. You need me out there.”

“Not like this,” he replied, crossing his arms. “I’m pulling you from active duty until you get your head straight.”

You stared at him, the reality of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “Steve—”

“You’re on probation, y/n,” Steve said, his voice final. “Until you deal with whatever’s going on in your head, you’re not going back out there. Not like this.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, and you fought back the urge to scream. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down, you knew he wasn’t. Still, that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

Without another word, you turned away from him, retreating into the bathroom to deal with your wounds. The sting of the alcohol on your skin was nothing compared to the frustration burning in your chest.

Steve lingered in the doorway for a moment longer before quietly stepping out, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the heavy weight of his decision. You were benched. And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure if you even cared.

After dressing your wounds and enduring a scalding hot shower, you collapse onto your bed, too exhausted to even care about the fresh bruises or the burning pain in your side. Your mind is louder than the physical aches, churning with frustration, anger, and something deeper—something you don’t want to name.

You stare at the ceiling, willing your thoughts to quiet down, but the more you try to ignore it, the worse it gets. Wanda’s face flashes through your mind, the way she looked at you when you confessed. The way her expression twisted into something unreadable before she shut you down. The ache in your chest deepens, and you force your eyes shut, hoping sleep will take over.

But it never does.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear a knock at the door.

You don’t move at first, thinking if you stay still enough, whoever it is will just go away. But the knock comes again, softer this time, followed by a familiar voice.

“Y/n, it’s Nat. Can I come in?”

You hesitate, staring at the door. You know Natasha well enough to know she’ll come in whether you say yes or not, but there’s still a part of you that wants to push everyone away. You’re tired—tired of talking, tired of feeling.

With a sigh, you mumble, “Yeah, come in.”

The door creaks open, and Natasha slips inside, closing it behind her. She doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there for a moment, taking in the state of your room—the bloodstained clothes tossed aside, the half-empty med kit, the way you’re sprawled on the bed like you’ve given up.

“You look like hell,” she says finally, her voice soft but laced with concern.

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your gaze on the ceiling. “I feel great.

Natasha crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, her weight causing a slight dip that you barely register. She’s quiet for a moment, and you can feel her watching you, waiting for you to say something more, but when you don’t, she takes a deep breath.

“Steve told me about the mission. About the probation.”

You grit your teeth, the frustration bubbling up again. “I don’t need a lecture, Nat.”

“I’m not here to lecture you,” she replies calmly. “I’m here because I’m worried.”

You finally tear your gaze from the ceiling to look at her, seeing the genuine concern etched on her face. It’s the same expression you’ve seen a hundred times before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. In fact, it makes it harder. Because if Nat’s worried, that means everyone else is too. And that means they’ve all noticed how far you’ve spiraled.

“I’m fine,” you say, but even to your own ears, the words sound hollow.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because last I checked, ‘fine’ people don’t come back from missions bleeding all over the compound and locking themselves away in their rooms.”

You swallow hard, turning your head away from her. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, y/n.” Her voice softens even more. “You’ve been different. Ever since… well, ever since Wanda. You’ve shut everyone out.”

Her name hits you like a punch to the gut, and you sit up abruptly, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t,” you snap, your voice sharp.

Natasha’s face remains calm, but there’s something sympathetic in her gaze. “I know what’s going on between you two.”

Your chest tightens with both panic and frustration. “How do you even know what’s going on with me and Wanda?” you ask, your tone defensive, almost bitter. “What, did she tell you everything? Tell the whole team how I messed everything up by catching feelings?”

Natasha shakes her head slowly, her eyes softening even more. “She didn’t have to tell me. It’s been pretty obvious.”

You feel like someone’s ripped the ground out from under you. “What the hell does that mean?” you ask, standing up, pacing the room. “What’s obvious? That I was stupid enough to fall for my best friend? That I destroyed everything because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut?”

“It’s not about you being stupid,” Natasha says gently. “You’re not stupid, y/n. And Wanda didn’t think that, either.”

You laugh bitterly, your chest tight and aching. “Then what was it, Nat? Because she sure didn’t make me feel like someone who had a chance. She didn’t make me feel like… like anything. Just told me she didn’t feel the same and—.”

Natasha stands up and crosses the room, moving to stand in front of you. “She lied, y/n. She didn’t reject you because she doesn’t feel the same. She rejected you because she’s scared.”

You stare at her, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “How could you know what she feels?”

Natasha doesn’t back down, her voice calm but insistent. “Because I’ve seen how she looks at you. We all have. Wanda’s terrified, y/n. She’s lost everyone she’s ever loved—her brother, Vision… She’s scared of loving you because she’s afraid of losing you, too.”

You freeze, her words hitting harder than you expected. The anger that had been boiling inside you starts to deflate, replaced with confusion and hurt. “fear makes people do stupid things,” Natasha continued softly “It makes them push away the people they care about most. You know that better than anyone.”

Her words hit too close to home, and you shake your head, trying to process everything. The self-hatred you’ve been drowning in, the isolation, the nightmares—it all starts to feel different.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You turn away from Natasha, your hands running through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t want to lose her, Nat. That’s what I was afraid of this whole time. And now it’s exactly what happened.”

Natasha steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You haven’t lost her. Not completely. But you’re both going to keep hurting like this until you talk to each other.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling raw and exposed in a way you hadn’t before, it could all become ten times worse if you talk to her and she just pushes you away more. “I don’t know if I can handle being hurt again.”

Natasha looks at you with a mixture of sympathy and strength. “You won’t know until you try.”

Steve knew something was wrong. He’d seen the tension between you and Wanda for weeks now, long enough to know it wasn’t just some temporary falling out. He had watched you slowly unravel, becoming more reckless on missions, more distant from the team, and he could tell it wasn’t just a professional matter. Something personal was tearing you apart.

And after today, after seeing the trail of blood you left from the jet to your room, he knew he couldn’t stand by any longer.

Steve found Wanda in the quiet of the compound’s common area, sitting by the window and staring out into the darkening sky. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her expression distant, but there was a sadness in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

He approached her cautiously, his steps quiet but deliberate. “Wanda.”

She didn’t look at him right away, her gaze still fixed outside. “Steve.”

“Can we talk?” He kept his tone gentle, not wanting to push too hard. She finally turned to face him, her eyes red-rimmed as though she hadn’t slept in days.

“What’s going on with you two?” Steve asked, cutting to the chase. He knew Wanda well enough to know she appreciated honesty over dancing around the subject. “Y/n’s not… they’re not themselves.”

Wanda’s face tightened, her shoulders stiffening as she looked away again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Steve sighed. “Wanda, you’re both avoiding each other. It’s affecting everything. Not just on missions but… it’s the whole compound,” he tried to tease but quickly saw it wasn’t the time, “I don’t think either of you are okay, it’s getting concerning.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, twisting around each other. Steve watched her, waiting patiently. He could tell she was holding back—he had seen it before in the way she carried herself, always guarded, always afraid to let too much slip.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I hurt them, Steve.”

Steve frowned, leaning against the wall as he folded his arms. “What happened?”

Wanda hesitated, the weight of her guilt evident in every movement. “They told me… they told me they loved me.” She took a shaky breath, her voice wavering. “And I— I told them I didn’t feel the same.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he listened. “But that’s not true, is it?”

Wanda shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “No. I love them. I love them more than anything. But I can’t—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her chest as if trying to hold herself together. “I can’t lose them like I lost everyone else, Steve. I can’t go through that again.”

Steve watched her, the silence stretching between them before he spoke. “I know you’re scared. I know what it’s like to lose people you care about. But pushing them away? That’s only going to hurt you both even more.”

Wanda bit her lip, her breath hitching. “You don’t understand, Steve..”

“I think I do.” Steve’s voice was firm but kind. Wanda looked up at him, confused. “I lost Bucky, more times than I can count. I thought he was gone during the war, then I found him as the Winter Soldier. And every time I thought I had him back, something would happen. Hydra, the government, the Accords… it felt like I was always fighting to keep him in my life.”

Wanda’s expression softened slightly as she listened, her defenses lowering.

“But I never stopped fighting for him,” Steve continued, his voice steady. “Because the love I have for Bucky—it’s unconditional. Even if it was messy, even if it hurt, it was worth every second I got with him.”

Wanda’s eyes welled up with tears again, and she wiped at her cheeks, her hands trembling. “But what if I lose them, Steve? What if I love them, and then they get hurt, or worse—what if they die because of me?”

Steve stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “You can’t live your life afraid of what might happen. Love is a risk, always. But it’s a risk worth taking. Because the time you spend pushing them away, that’s time you’re losing right now. You’re hurting them, and you’re hurting yourself.”

Wanda swallowed hard, her throat tight. She could feel the weight of her own fear pressing down on her, suffocating her, but Steve’s words rang true. Every moment she spent avoiding you, every time she told herself it was for the best, she was only making things worse.

Steve crouched down to be at eye level with her, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t know what the future holds, Wanda. None of us do. But I promise you, shutting them out is going to hurt a lot more than loving them ever will.”

Wanda let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been so focused on her fear, on the possibility of losing you, that she hadn’t realized she was losing you right now. It was happening before her eyes, and it was her fault.

“I just… I don’t know if I can be that strong,” she whispered, her voice broken.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Steve said softly. “And you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve got us, and you’ve got them. But you have to take that step, Wanda. You have to let yourself love them.”

Wanda closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks as she nodded. She knew Steve was right. She had been running from her own feelings for too long, hiding behind the fear of losing you. But now she realized—by lying, she was already losing you.

“Thank you, Steve,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Steve gave her a soft, reassuring smile. “Go find them. It’s not too late.”

Wanda took a deep breath, gathering what little courage she had left. She had to fix this. She had to find you, tell you the truth, and face whatever came next—because no matter how terrifying it was, losing you completely would be far worse.

You were back in the training room, throwing punches at the bag with reckless abandon. Each hit sent waves of pain through your body, but you didn’t care. It was easier to focus on the physical ache than the emotional storm swirling inside you. Natasha’s words echoed in your mind: Wanda loves you, but she’s scared.

Scared. You let out a bitter laugh, swinging another punch that nearly knocked the bag off its chain. Why didn’t she just tell you that? Why did she make you feel like you were out of your mind, like you were stupid for thinking she could ever love you back?

You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as your thoughts spun in circles. The truth had been right there all along, but instead of being honest, she had let you spiral. You weren’t even sure what you felt anymore—anger, hurt, maybe even guilt for forcing her into this position. You had laid your heart out for her, and she crushed it, all to protect herself.

Just as you were about to throw another punch, you heard footsteps behind you. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Her presence was unmistakable, a warmth that always made you feel safe and now felt like a dagger in your chest.

“Y/n…” Wanda’s voice was soft, hesitant, and it made your skin prickle. You kept your back to her, clenching your fists as you tried to control the emotions bubbling to the surface.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me,” she continued, taking a cautious step closer. “But I—I need to explain.”

“Explain what?” You finally turned around, your voice sharp. “How you made me feel like an idiot? Like I imagined everything between us?”

Wanda flinched at your words, her eyes widening with guilt. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days—her eyes were rimmed with red, and her usually steady hands were trembling. “That’s not what I meant to do. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Well, you did,” you said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. The air between you felt heavy, suffocating.

Wanda stepped closer, her gaze pleading, but she still wouldn’t meet your eyes fully. “Y/n, please. It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple,” you snapped, your frustration finally boiling over. “Stop beating around the bush, Wanda. Tell me the truth. Just say it.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated again, her eyes flicking away from yours. You let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through your hair. “For once, just be honest with me. You owe me that.”

There was a long pause, and you could see the conflict in her eyes, the way her whole body tensed as if she was fighting herself. Finally, she took a deep breath, her voice shaky but louder now. “I lied to you. About everything.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “What?”

Wanda took a step closer, her eyes brimming with tears as she finally let her guard down. “I lied. When I said I didn’t love you—I was lying.” Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I’ve been lying to myself, to you… I’ve been so scared of losing you that I thought it was better to push you away.”

Your mind was reeling, trying to process her words. You took a step back, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions—anger, relief, confusion. “So you do love me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda nodded, tears falling freely now. “Yes. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, but I was terrified.” She wiped at her cheeks, her breathing uneven. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you too. So I did the only thing I knew how to do—I pushed you away.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and your vision blurred with unshed tears. “Do you have any idea what that did to me?” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, fighting to keep your composure. “I told you I loved you, and you made me feel like a fool. I was terrified too, Wanda. I didn’t want to lose you, but I had to tell you because—because I couldn’t keep pretending. My feelings for you—they consumed me.”

Wanda took another step closer, her hand reaching out but hovering in the space between you, afraid to touch you. “I know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting both of us, but I was wrong. I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as all the pain you had been holding back came rushing out. “You were my best friend, Wanda. My best friend. And I lost you the moment I opened my mouth.

Wanda’s face crumpled, her own tears falling faster now. “You didn’t lose me. I was the one who messed everything up. I was scared, and I made all your worst fears come true.”

There was a long silence as the two of you stood there, both of you crying, both of you broken by the weight of your own fears. Finally, Wanda moved closer, closing the distance between you, her hand finally resting on your arm. Her touch was tentative, soft, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Not like this.”

You looked into her eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability there, and it broke something inside you. All the anger, the frustration—it melted away in that moment, leaving only the overwhelming love you had always felt for her.

Without thinking, you reached down and cupped her face in your hands, pulling her close. Wanda’s breath hitched as your lips crashed together, a mix of tears and desperation. The kiss was soft but intense, full of everything you had both been holding back for so long. It was tender, warm, but laced with the pain of everything you had gone through.

Wanda’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, both of you pouring your hearts into it, trying to mend what had been broken. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you breathing hard, tears still slipping down your cheeks.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice raw but full of conviction. “I’ve always loved you.”

Wanda let out a shaky breath, her hands gripping the back of your shirt like she was afraid to let go. “I love you too. I’m so sorry for everything.”

You pulled her into a tight embrace, burying your face in her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “We’ll figure it out,” you whispered softly, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Wanda nodded against your chest, her arms tightening around you. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your voice full of the kind of love that you knew would last forever.

The two of you stood there, holding each other, the weight of the past weeks slowly lifting off your shoulders. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could breathe again. The fear, the pain—it was still there, but it didn’t matter. Not when you had her in your arms.

“Come on, you need a shower and some rest,” she mumbled tearfully.

“Are you saying I stink,” you joked hands going to her own.

She smiled, missing your childish jokes, “I’m saying we’re both exhausted and I’ve missed cuddling with you.” she pulled you towards the exit as you laughed following her, “and Steve told me what happened..Idiot,” she finished as you mumbled something about hitting steve.

Eventually, you both made your way back to your room, neither of you wanting to be apart any longer, you took a brief shower as Wanda found a movie to play. You curled up together on your bed, Wanda resting her head on your chest, her arms wrapped around you like she was afraid to let you go, legs tangled together.

As you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, the nightmares seemed far away. For the first time in weeks, you felt peace. Wanda was with you, and that was all that mattered.

#enhanced!reader #marvel fanfic #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff x you #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda angst #hurt/comfort

289 notes · View notes

blissfulflw · 1 month ago

Text

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝐴𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠

Pairing- Kim Chaewon x fem reader

Genre- Angst, fluff

Word count- 6597

Requested: @kangshxrtie

You hadn’t expected to see her again.

The moment you stepped into the practice room for your first day as the new vocal coach, your heart had skipped a beat. There, standing in the corner, with her back to you and her familiar pink hair tucked under a cap, was Chaewon.

She wasn’t the same girl you had once known — that girl who would steal kisses in hidden corners and laugh into your shoulder after a long day of training. This Chaewon was polished, poised, and cold. She didn’t look up when you entered, but you could feel her stiffen, the subtle tension that pulled at the air around her.

You wanted to turn and walk out. To leave the past behind. But the weight of her presence, the years of unanswered questions, made it impossible.

The other trainees looked at you curiously as you made your way to the front. You’d trained vocalists for years, but today, your role felt unfamiliar. You weren’t just a coach now. You were an ex-lover standing in front of someone who had erased you from their life.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, trying to push the tightness in your throat down. “Let’s get started. We’ll start with group exercises before we focus on individual sessions.”

Chaewon hadn’t looked at you. Not once. It was as if you didn’t exist. You’d seen her perform on stage countless times, watched her grow into the idol she was today, but in that moment, all the air in the room felt stale. How had it come to this?

She wasn’t supposed to be this person. The girl you knew was gentle, sweet, and full of laughter. But now, she was just another idol. Just another trainee.

A perfect stranger.

The first few hours were spent navigating through the technicalities of the vocal warm-ups and choreography. You kept your distance, avoiding her gaze. When the group began to break for a short lunch, you tried to slip out quietly, but the sound of footsteps behind you made you pause.

“Y/N.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper. You didn’t turn around at first. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, the floodgates would open, and you didn’t have the strength for that.

“You’re still here,” she said, sounding almost like she was talking to herself. There was a bitter edge to her voice, a hint of disbelief.

You swallowed hard before finally turning to face her. “Of course, I am. I was hired for the job.”

The silence that followed was thick with unsaid things.

She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, avoiding eye contact. “We should talk,” she said, finally meeting your gaze.

Your heart ached, but you fought to keep your composure. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/N—”

“You ended it, Chaewon,” you said, your voice a little too sharp. “You left without a word, without an explanation. Do you really think there’s anything left to say?”

Her eyes softened, but the distance between you felt too vast to close with mere words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought it was the only way.”

“Why?” You asked, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “Why did you leave? You think I’m just supposed to forget? Like none of it meant anything?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” she said quietly, her hands shaking. “You think I didn’t love you? You think it wasn’t killing me too? But I had to let you go. I couldn’t risk your career… my career. We weren’t supposed to happen.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the pain of those years pressing on your chest. “So, what? You just decided for both of us? Without saying a word?”

Chaewon took a step forward. “I thought it would be easier. For you. For me. I didn’t want to drag you into this life. I didn’t want to be the reason you couldn’t make it. I couldn’t risk losing everything I worked for. But losing you was harder.”

The vulnerability in her voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to yell at her, to demand answers. But there was something about her eyes — the way she looked at you now, with regret, with a flicker of the girl you once knew — that broke you.

You took a step back, swallowing the knot in your throat. “I never stopped loving you, Chaewon. But you broke me. And I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was an honesty there that made your heart ache. “But I’m not the same person anymore. I can’t fix everything, but I’d like to try.”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at her. All the years that had passed, all the unsaid words and lingering feelings, hung between you like a fragile thread.

Then, you spoke softly, almost to yourself, “I’m not sure where we go from here.”

Chaewon nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground for a long moment before meeting your eyes again. “One step at a time.”

The days that followed felt like walking on a tightrope. Chaewon was still there, lingering just at the edge of your life. But there was a constant tension between the two of you that you couldn’t ignore. She seemed to want to rebuild what was lost, but every time she came close, there was something that stopped her. And something that stopped you, too.

The rehearsals grew more intense as the comeback drew closer. It was as though the work gave you both an excuse to avoid what was really happening. You’d steal glances at her when she wasn’t looking, watching how her eyes flitted around the room, but never resting on you for long. And when they did, it was always a brief moment before she turned away again.

She was keeping her distance, but it wasn’t the distance that hurt the most. It was the silence.

You remembered the way she used to hold you at night, her whispers brushing against your skin, the way she’d say your name like it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever said. The sound of her laughter, her soft touch, the way her eyes would brighten whenever you were together.

But now… she barely spoke to you. The gap between you seemed to widen each day.

⸻

She was keeping her distance, but it wasn’t the distance that hurt the most. It was the silence.

But now… she barely spoke to you. The gap between you seemed to widen each day.

⸻

It was late one night, well past midnight, and the practice room was empty except for you and Chaewon. You were finishing some vocal runs for a final check before you left. The quiet buzz of the air conditioning and the distant hum of the city outside filled the empty space. But you couldn’t ignore the feeling in your chest. The way Chaewon’s presence felt more like an absence than anything else.

You stole a glance at her as she stood at the mirror, adjusting her ponytail, her back to you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said quietly, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

She didn’t turn around immediately. Her shoulders stiffened, her hands pausing mid-motion. For a long moment, she said nothing. You watched the way she held herself together, the way her jaw clenched slightly before she finally spoke.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she replied, her voice tight. “I just… I don’t know what you want from me.”

You shook your head. “You know what I want.”

Chaewon finally turned to face you, her eyes searching yours. “No, I don’t,” she said, voice shaking. “I thought I did. I thought I understood everything, but now… now I’m just not sure anymore. I can’t keep pretending that nothing happened, Y/N.”

The air between you both felt like it was closing in, and the words you had both been avoiding were now spilling out. Chaewon’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, and you could see the cracks in her facade.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she continued, her voice breaking. “I thought leaving was the right choice. I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. But I was wrong, and now… now I’m lost. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know if I can.”

Her admission hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. The confession she’d kept buried for so long felt like an avalanche, crashing down between you both.

You took a step back, your chest tightening, the hurt in her voice resonating deep within you. “So what, Chaewon? You think this is all just going to go away because you admit that you were wrong? That I’ll just forget everything and we can go back to the way things were? You left me without a word! I waited, and I waited, and you never came back. You didn’t even try.”

Her face crumpled at your words, a tear escaping down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She stood there, frozen. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She looked so small, so lost, like she was drowning in the mess she’d made of everything.

“I was terrified,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Terrified that if I stayed, I’d ruin everything for you. I thought if I left, you’d have a chance at a normal life. One where you weren’t tied to me… one where you didn’t have to watch me disappear behind the stage lights. I thought you’d be better off without me.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you couldn’t stop it. “Is that what you think? That I needed to be ‘better off’ without you? Chaewon, I never wanted a ‘normal’ life without you. I wanted you. And when you left… I didn’t know how to keep going. You were everything to me.”

Her eyes widened at your words, and she took a hesitant step forward, but you stepped back. You couldn’t bear the closeness, not when it felt like she was still holding herself back.

“I thought you moved on,” you continued, your voice cracking. “You were out there, living your dream, while I… I was stuck. I couldn’t move past what we were, and now… now I don’t know if I can even look at you without remembering how you just walked away.”

The silence stretched between you both, suffocating. Chaewon was crying now, her shoulders shaking, but she didn’t wipe away the tears. She let them fall.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she repeated, voice breaking. “I thought if I let you go, you’d be free. But now I see… I see what I’ve done. I ruined everything, Y/N. I ruined us.”

Her words hit like a slap to the face, and for a moment, everything felt like it was crashing down around you. You wanted to scream, to yell at her for the years of hurt, the time you’d wasted. But instead, you stood there, feeling empty.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you whispered, looking away. “I want to. But I don’t know if I can.”

Chaewon didn’t say anything. She just stood there, broken, her tear-streaked face etched with guilt.

You turned away from her, walking toward the door. “I need time. I need to figure this out, Chaewon. I don’t know if I can do this again.”

Before you left the room, you paused, the final words heavy in the air.

“And maybe we never should’ve happened in the first place.”

You could feel her eyes on your back as you walked toward the door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. Your heart was pounding in your chest, each step feeling heavier than the last.

When you finally reached the door, you hesitated. The words you’d just spoken echoed in your mind, and you felt a lump form in your throat. But you couldn’t take them back now.

You stepped out into the hallway and leaned against the cold wall, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You hated how much it still hurt. You hated how much of yourself you had left behind when you walked away. And, deep down, you hated that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to forgive her.

The door creaked open, and you didn’t have to turn around to know she was standing there, just behind you. You could feel her presence, the weight of her gaze on your back. But you didn’t turn. You couldn’t.

“Y/N…” Chaewon’s voice was trembling, quiet, like she wasn’t sure if you would even listen. “I know you need space. I know I don’t deserve anything from you right now. But please… just let me try. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to turn and look at her. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The pain was too much, the rawness of the betrayal too fresh.

“I don’t know if I can believe you anymore,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “You told me you loved me, Chaewon. You promised you wouldn’t leave me. And then… you just left. Without a word. You gave up on us. On me.”

She took a shaky step forward, her voice cracking with desperation. “I didn’t give up on you. I didn’t give up on us. I was selfish. I thought I was protecting you. But I see now… I see now that I only made it worse. I ruined everything, Y/N.”

The tears that had been building up finally escaped, and you wiped them away angrily, hating the weakness. “You didn’t even give me a choice. You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us. You just… walked away, and I was left wondering what happened. Why.”

“I was scared,” Chaewon whispered. “Scared of how much I loved you. How much I needed you. I thought if I stayed, I’d drag you into this world of chaos. I thought I’d ruin everything for you. But the truth is, I’ve ruined us already.”

Her words hit you like a hammer to the chest, but still, you couldn’t turn to face her. You couldn’t let her see how much you were still hurting.

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” you said quietly, choking on the words. “I don’t know if I can ever forget the way you left me, Chaewon. It’s too much.”

There was a long silence between you both. You could feel the weight of her gaze, the weight of the apology hanging in the air. But the distance between you, both emotionally and physically, felt like an insurmountable wall.

“I know,” she said finally, her voice raw and broken. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve anything from you. But I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll spend every day trying to prove to you that I can be the person you need me to be. The person I should have been from the beginning.”

The words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. She was so close, yet so far away. You wanted to believe her, wanted to let go of the pain and just embrace the girl you once loved, but the hurt was too deep. The betrayal was too fresh.

“I can’t do this right now,” you said, your voice trembling. “I need time. I need to figure out if I even want this anymore.”

Chaewon let out a shaky breath. “I understand. I’ll give you time. But please, don’t close me out. Don’t close us out completely. Please, just give me a chance.”

Her voice was pleading now, but you couldn’t give her the reassurance she wanted. Not yet. Not when your heart felt so torn, when the anger and sadness were still too raw.

You turned toward the door, but before you could leave, she spoke again, her voice quieter now.

“I’ll wait for you, Y/N. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

You didn’t respond. You just walked out of the practice room, the sound of the door closing behind you ringing like a final note in a song you couldn’t quite finish.

_____

The next few days passed in a blur. You kept your distance, avoiding her whenever possible. Rehearsals felt colder, emptier without Chaewon’s presence beside you. The silence between you both was suffocating, and it was starting to drive you mad.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to her, or that you didn’t still care. The truth was, you cared more than you had ever let yourself admit. But the pain — the betrayal — still lingered in your chest like a wound that had never fully healed.

You spent nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she was out there somewhere doing the same. Wondering if she was hurting the way you were. If she was waiting.

One evening, as the end of another rehearsal approached, you found yourself walking toward the rooftop — a place you and Chaewon had often gone to escape, to talk, to just be.

When you reached the door, you froze. Chaewon was already there, sitting against the railing, looking out over the city.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there, watching her in the dimming light.

“Why did you come here?” you asked, your voice soft.

She turned to look at you, her eyes still red from crying, but there was something softer about her expression now. “I didn’t want to leave things the way we left them. I can’t just… walk away anymore. I need you to know how sorry I am. How much I love you.”

You took a step closer, the space between you both still uncomfortable. “Chaewon…”

“I won’t beg you,” she said, voice trembling. “But I will wait. I will wait for as long as it takes, because I need you, Y/N. I need you in my life. I don’t care how long it takes to rebuild, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You stared at her for a long moment, your heart in turmoil. You could feel the weight of the past pressing down on you, but her words — raw and honest — were pulling at you in a way that nothing else had.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you,” you whispered, feeling the tear that finally slipped down your cheek. “But I’m not ready to let go either.”

Chaewon’s face softened, and she stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Her hand reached for yours, but you hesitated before you let her touch you. She squeezed your hand gently, and you felt her warmth. The warmth you had once missed so much.

“We’ll figure this out,” she whispered. “Together.”

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to believe it.

The days after that moment on the rooftop were a delicate balancing act. Chaewon respected your space, but she didn’t pull away entirely. Instead, she made small gestures, quiet efforts to show that she was still there — that she hadn’t given up, even if she didn’t know how to fix what had been broken.

It was like walking a razor’s edge, trying not to lean too much into what had been, and at the same time, not wanting to forget the possibility of what could be.

Every time you saw Chaewon, you felt your heart waver. There were moments when you thought you saw the old Chaewon in her eyes — the girl who had once held you close, laughed with you, loved you. But then you’d remember everything she’d done, everything she’d said when she walked away. And you’d feel the cold rush in again.

But still, the space between you both was shrinking, even if it was slow. She was careful with you. And you, despite the anger, despite the hurt, were still careful with her, too.

_____

One evening, a week after that conversation on the rooftop, you found yourself alone in the practice room after everyone else had left. You’d spent the whole day avoiding Chaewon, not because you wanted to, but because you weren’t sure how to be with her anymore.

The room felt too quiet without the usual chatter of your group. The silence pressed in on you, heavy and full of unspoken words. You were packing up your things, mindlessly moving from one task to the next, when you heard the door creak open.

You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

“Y/N,” Chaewon’s voice was soft, but there was an urgency behind it that made your heart flutter against your ribcage. “Can we talk?”

You set the papers down, your hands shaking slightly, but you didn’t look at her yet. You couldn’t.

“About what?” you asked, your voice strained, trying to keep the distance between you. “We’ve talked enough, haven’t we?”

There was a long pause, a heavy silence before she spoke again. “No. I don’t think we have.”

You turned, slowly, your eyes meeting hers. The sight of her hit you harder than you expected. She was standing there, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes wide with something — something desperate and vulnerable.

“Y/N, I… I’ve been thinking. A lot. About everything. About what I said, about what I did.” Her voice faltered, and for a moment, she looked like the girl you once knew. “I didn’t just hurt you, I hurt me too. I didn’t just leave you. I left a part of myself when I walked away.”

You stayed quiet, the words she’d just spoken digging deep into your chest. You’d always wanted her to feel the weight of her actions, to realize what she’d done to you. But hearing her admit it — hearing her voice crack with emotion — made something in you break.

She took a step forward, but you instinctively took a step back, your eyes lowering to the floor. You hated the way you were still torn between anger and the love that refused to die.

“I know you don’t trust me,” she said quietly, taking another step, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I understand that. But I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes. If it takes a lifetime to make it up to you, I’ll do it. I just need you to see that I’m not the same person I was when I left.”

Your heart twisted. You knew she was sincere — there was no doubt in her voice. But the hurt, the betrayal, was still so fresh in your mind. You weren’t sure if you could ever let go of the pain, if you could ever forgive her for walking out on you when you needed her the most.

“How do I know you’re not going to leave again?” You said the words before you could stop yourself. You looked up at her then, your eyes searching her face for any sign of what she might say.

Chaewon’s breath caught in her throat, and she closed the distance between you with one final, deliberate step. She reached for your hand, but this time, you didn’t pull away. You let her hold it.

“Because I’m here now,” she said, her voice steady but full of raw emotion. “Because I’ve never wanted anything more than to be here with you. And if I lose you… I’ll lose myself, too. I won’t do that. I won’t walk away again.”

You looked at her, your heart pounding, and the vulnerability in her eyes pierced you like a thousand needles. You saw her. You saw the weight she was carrying, the remorse, the regret. You knew she meant it — that she would never make the same mistake again. But that didn’t change the past. That didn’t change the girl who had disappeared from your life without a trace.

“I don’t know how to trust you anymore, Chaewon,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I want to. But I don’t know how.”

Her hand tightened around yours, and her face crumpled in anguish. “I know I don’t deserve your trust. But I swear to you, I’ll earn it back. I’ll show you every day that I’m not going anywhere. Please, Y/N… give me a chance. Please.”

You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to believe her, wanted to reach out and pull her into your arms and make everything right again. But the fear, the doubt, still lingered, like a shadow you couldn’t outrun.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was the way she was looking at you, the way her voice wavered with the rawness of her words. Maybe it was because, deep down, you knew that you still loved her — more than you had ever loved anyone.

“One more chance,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “But if you hurt me again…”

“I won’t,” Chaewon interrupted, her voice firm now, though her eyes were still glassy with emotion. “I promise, I won’t.”

You looked at her, the weight of everything between you still heavy but no longer impossible. You still didn’t know if you could trust her fully, but this — this was a step. A step toward healing, toward letting go of the past.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of her hand anchor you.

“Okay,” you said softly, and this time, when you reached for her, it was with the hope that maybe — just maybe — you could both find your way back to something beautiful.

You’d told yourself you would be okay. That you could move forward. But some nights, when the world was quieter, the doubts crept back in. What if you were making a mistake? What if Chaewon wasn’t ready for what you needed? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartbreak?

A soft voice broke through the chaos of your thoughts. “You’re still thinking about everything, aren’t you?”

You turned to find Chaewon standing behind you, her eyes warm and filled with a mixture of understanding and uncertainty. She had this way of knowing exactly when you were holding something inside, even when you tried to hide it.

“I can’t help it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much… so much to figure out.”

She took a step toward you, standing beside you at the railing. You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching the city below. The two of you were silent, but it wasn’t the painful kind of silence. It was just… comfortable.

“Can I ask you something?” Chaewon said after a long pause, her voice quiet but full of hope.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Do you think we can ever really go back to the way things were?” Her voice cracked slightly, as if the question itself hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

You felt a lump form in your throat. You wanted to say something reassuring, something that would make it all okay, but the truth was, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you could ever fully let go of the pain, of the betrayal. You didn’t know if you could forget how she had walked away without even looking back.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know if we can ever go back. But… I want to try. I want to figure this out, Chaewon. I don’t know what that looks like, but I don’t want to lose you again.”

The vulnerability in your words seemed to break something inside of her, and for the first time in a long while, she stepped closer, closing the distance between you. Her hand reached for yours, and for a moment, you hesitated, but then you let her take it.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Chaewon whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to keep hurting you. But I need you to know that I’ll keep trying. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

You closed your eyes, the words she spoke settling deep in your chest. She had hurt you. There was no denying that. But standing here now, with her hand in yours, you could feel the weight of her sincerity — the depth of her regret, and the strength of her desire to make things right.

You weren’t sure if you could forgive her yet. You weren’t sure if you could ever forget what had happened. But for the first time in a long while, you felt the smallest sliver of hope — the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could rebuild what had been broken.

You opened your eyes to look at her, and for a moment, there was no one else in the world. Just the two of you.

“Okay,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “I’ll give you that chance. We’ll figure this out together.”

Her face softened, and she took a small step closer. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know what else to do. I was scared. But now, I’ll spend every day trying to make it up to you.”

You squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t need you to make it up to me, Chaewon. I just need you to be here. To be real. To be present. That’s all.”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “I can do that.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like maybe you weren’t so broken after all. Maybe, with time, things could heal. Maybe you could find a way to move forward together.

_____

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Chaewon began to settle into a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. You began to rebuild, piece by piece, what had been lost.

There were moments when the past would resurface — moments when the hurt and betrayal would threaten to tear you apart again. But every time that happened, you would both talk it through. Slowly but surely, you learned to trust each other again. It wasn’t easy, and there were times when you both stumbled, but it was in those moments that you realized how much you wanted to make it work.

Chaewon was patient, her love unwavering. And in turn, you found yourself allowing her back into your heart, piece by piece.

And one night you’d caught her alone, in the practice room

The trainees had all left, and the studio was empty except for you and Chaewon. You were wrapping up some final vocal exercises when you noticed her standing off to the side, watching you with that quiet intensity.

“Are you staying late again?” You asked, trying to keep the conversation casual.

She shrugged, though there was something almost nostalgic in her eyes. “I never really left.”

There was something about the way she said it — as if it was a reminder of those late nights you used to spend together when she was still a trainee. You both worked through the hours, the world outside fading into the background.

Chaewon lingered in the studio as you finished packing up, and as you turned to leave, you saw her looking at you again.

“Y/N,” she called, her voice softer now, not laced with fear, but with something else — something tentative.

You paused, your heart beating faster than you’d care to admit. “Yeah?”

“I know I can’t undo the past, but I’m here now. If you want me here.”

Her words hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, everything felt suspended in time. The weight of her confession, of the years spent apart, felt too heavy to carry alone. But this time, it was different. This time, you weren’t walking away.

Without thinking, you crossed the room and stood in front of her, your heart racing in your chest. Chaewon looked up at you, eyes wide with hesitation — as if waiting for something, for you to make a decision.

“I’m not sure where we go from here,” you said, your voice quieter now, “but I don’t want to walk away either.”

Her breath hitched, and before you knew it, she stepped closer, slowly, cautiously. “Can we take it slow?”

You smiled softly, the last of the old tension between you beginning to dissolve. “Yeah. Slow sounds good.”

And when she reached out, tentatively brushing her hand against yours, it felt like the world was finally starting to right itself again.

Days turned into weeks, and the walls between you began to crumble. There were no grand confessions — no explosive moments. Just little things. Quiet conversations between rehearsals. Shared glances. Laughter that felt more like breathing than anything else.

You’d find yourself lingering in the practice room after hours, both of you too tired to leave but too eager to stay in each other’s presence. There was an ease now that hadn’t been there before, a comfort you hadn’t realized was missing until it was there again.

Then one night, after a long rehearsal, when the air was cool and the city lights flickered in the distance, Chaewon pulled you aside.

“I’ve never been good with words,” she said softly, the moonlight catching the gentle curve of her face. “But I’m trying to show you with my actions… that I’m not the same person who walked away from you. And I never want to lose you again.”

You stood there, your heart warm despite the cool night air. There was no need for grand gestures, no need for anything other than the quiet honesty in her voice.

“Chaewon,” you said, finally letting the words out, “you never really lost me.”

And when she kissed you then, it wasn’t a hurried thing. It was slow, tentative, but there was something so tender about it that it felt like you were both finally letting go of everything that had held you back. Finally letting yourself have the love you’d both been waiting for.

_____

Slowly, but surely, you and Chaewon found your way back to each other. Not perfectly, not without scars, but together. The cracks that had once torn you apart were still there, but you no longer saw them as marks of defeat — you saw them as proof of your resilience.

You’d learned how to talk openly, to be vulnerable in ways you hadn’t before. You learned to trust again, even when the past would sometimes come back to haunt you. It was difficult, yes, but each day felt like a small victory, and each laugh, each touch, was a reminder that love, though fragile, could heal even the deepest wounds.

One evening, as the moonlight filtered through the dorm room window, you and Chaewon sat side by side on the balcony, the city lights below twinkling like stars in the distance.

Chaewon broke the silence, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “Do you remember the first time we sat out here like this?”

You smiled, looking up at the stars. “How could I forget? You insisted we come out here to watch the city lights even though it was freezing.”

Chaewon chuckled, her hand brushing against yours. “I remember you complaining the whole time, but secretly enjoying it.”

“I was not complaining,” you teased, nudging her shoulder lightly.

“Mm, I remember it differently,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the cool night air gentle around you. It was a peace you hadn’t known in a long time, and the world felt a little smaller, a little kinder. For the first time, you realized that you weren’t just healing. You were growing — together.

“You know,” Chaewon said softly, her fingers brushing yours once more, “I never thought I’d get a second chance. And I don’t ever want to take it for granted.”

You turned to face her, your heart swelling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just love anymore. It was something deeper, something more secure. “We’re still figuring things out, Chaewon. But I’m glad we’re doing it together.”

She nodded, her expression softening as she reached up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to have it all figured out right now. I think the important thing is that we’re trying. We’re not giving up.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her hand on your cheek, a warmth that felt like home.

“I don’t want to give up,” you whispered, your voice steady and sure. “Not on you. Not on us.”

Her eyes softened, and she leaned in slowly, as if giving you the space to decide. When you didn’t pull away, her lips met yours in a kiss that felt like a promise — a promise of more days like this, of laughter and quiet moments, of love that would grow, even when the world around you felt uncertain.

The kiss deepened, slow and tender, and for that moment, all the hurt, all the fear, and all the doubts melted away. It was just the two of you, and everything else felt like it could wait.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with hearts full, Chaewon rested her forehead against yours.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice full of everything she had said, everything she had shown you, and everything she had yet to say. “I’m never going to stop.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you realized you truly believed her.

“I love you too,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

And in that moment, you both knew that no matter what life threw your way, no matter how many obstacles stood in front of you, you would always find a way back to each other.

Together.

#blissfulflw ❀ fics #kpop #kpop gg #le sserafim #le sserafim fluff #le sserafim angst #le sserafim x fem #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x you #Kim Chaewon #chaewon x fem #chaewon x reader #chaewon x you #fluff #angst

96 notes · View notes

solspina · 4 months ago

Text

To Take Away it's Pain

Luis Dante ⋆˙⟡ - for @justanothermemestrider

my very very late half of a writing trade! i am so sorry this took 3 months and may feel rushed, college paired with physical therapy and writers block is a deadly combo.

being the wife of the chapter master is no easy task, especially when your husband goes silent for days on end. after consulting dante's closest consul and finally finding her husband, dante must confess to his days-old hidden secret.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: trigger warning mephiston, red thirst and general 40k stuff

“And you’re sure, lord Mephiston?”

“Certain.” The lord of death replied, making it near obvious that he paid no mind to her concerned gaze. Her eyes remained fixated on the cascading crimson robes that adorned his lower half, or the way they flowed like a fountain of blood from his waist as he paced around his quarters, eyes closed, mind deep in thought. “I do not tell you this to bring you fear, just in hopes that you exercise caution, and understand that you have a safe place within the librarius if things are to go wrong.”

She nodded her head in agreement before her eyes met the floor instead. She sat perched atop Mephiston’s desk, quiet and still, for she had already spoken her piece to the chief librarian. He spoke very little, and the wisdom that fell from his lips spilled out in indecipherable riddles and in a jumble of accents she often asked him to repeat.

“I just don’t understand why he’s been so avoidant lately, Mephiston.” She spoke, finally finding the courage to cut the tension in the air. “He confided in you about something you’re not telling me. Please just tell me what’s wrong with my Dante. I am afraid.”

The lord of death shook his head. “It is not my place to tell you of things I have been trusted with.” he replied and watched her face contort into clear disappointment, perhaps anger. “But I can tell you that he is afraid too - of how you will feel when you know the cause of his recent… irritation.” said Mephiston with the slightest of smiles across his face.

His fangs very slightly peeked from behind his lips when he smiled. Beautiful, genuine, and dangerous all the same. It would be a lie to say that the chief librarian did not make her just as discomforted as he did Dante, yet her frustration toward him grew greater than the gnawing feeling within to avoid snapping at him.

“I need you to tell me what you know about Dante. I command it.” She spoke as she slid down from her sitting position on his desk. Her tone had become more hardened, her eyes narrow and her shoulders held in perfect noble posture. She tried to appear larger, to show her authority as the chapter master’s beloved, to show that she was not afraid; a façade that came crashing down the moment Mephiston stepped closer to match her display of command.

He kneeled to her height and cocked his head to the side, clearly amused by her attempt at standing up to something powerful beyond her comprehension. “Do not forget you are in my librarius, little angel. Dante has little command here.” His hair fell over his shoulders as he leaned down to her height, his face mere inches away from hers, eyes illuminated a gentle blue. She held her expression despite her hummingbird heart pounding in her chest. Whether it was from fear or genuine determination was his knowledge and his alone, a feeling not even her pitiful human mind could comprehend.

He pulled away from being so close to her after a few moments, satisfied with her lack of willingness to back down. “He is in his quarters, if I transport you there myself you can catch him before he attempts to flee again.” said Mephiston as he opened a small window into the warp with a wave of his hand, the elaborate door to Dante’s personal quarters a clear image a mere few feet into the portal.

She stared in awe at the window for a few moments before she turned to thank the lord of death, and yet the moment she met his gaze he had grabbed the back of her robes and tossed her through the portal with little effort. She landed on the opposite side with a soft thump, and the portal slammed shut behind her, the image of Mephiston on the opposite end faded with it. Impatient he was, as always.

She sat at the door to the Lord Regent's quarters and stared down at her hands for a moment before curling her fingers into fists and inhaling a deep breath. "I can do this," she told herself, expression filled with an incredibly calm determination. "Just have to talk to him."

She did not allow herself a moment of doubt before entering Dante's quarters, a place she treated as unfamiliar even though she too slept there each time she needed a place to rest. Dante himself sat on the edge of his massive bed, noticeably shocked at his wife's sudden intrusion and even more shocked she knew where he was after he had so carefully watched her daily routine and made sure it hadn't aligned with his over the past few days.

"My love..." He spoke, excited for a moment before he urgently buried his face in his hands and covered it, seeming to remember he had a dire secret to hide. "How did you know I was-"

"The Chief Librarian and I spoke. He tells me you aren't telling me something."

Dante flinched slightly, clearly taken aback by her incredibly harsh tone. She did not hesitate when it came to interrupting her husband's rather irrelevant questions. According to the lord of death, he had been hiding information from her for days. He could afford her at the very least a few moments of her own secrecy.

He would be a complete fool to assume his own wife was not suspicious of his hands covering his visage. A part of her softened at the sight of him shying away from her as if he were a dog that had been cornered, fearing punishment if it looked its accuser in the eye.

"Dante..."

Her facade of anger came crashing down around her the moment she heard the slightest of sniffles coming from the chapter master followed by what seemed like an endless slurring of explanations and apologies. "Don't look at me... I'm sorry... I didn't want to..." He wept gently into his hands, and yet not a single word told his wife the full truth she was after.

“My angel… what did you- “

“Blood… living blood…” He murmured as he buried one hand further into his face and gripped at the sheets of his bed with the other. His knuckles turned an incredibly pale white at the strength of his grip. “My oath… I…”

Dante finally allowed his tears to flow freely, and his wife simply stood still in front of him. She watched his chest rise and fall with sobs, and eyed at the bleeding claw marks in his arms left by none other than his own fingernails, likely something he felt was a much-deserved act of self-penitence.

"You are saying that you took living blood, Lord Dante?"

He stiffened under the use of such a title from his own wife, as if it were not one he heard at each moment of each day. Even in spite of his evident fear, he curled in on himself further and nodded frantically.

"Please," He whispered, his voice weak and muted underneath persecution - the consequences of his actions. "Forgive me."

Silence hung heavy in the air for more than a few insatiably uncomfortable moments. Dante's wife did not dare to speak underneath the weight of the realization that her husband had become weak, and Dante did not dare release his body from the position of one of old terra's aquatic crustaceans, lest she have to meet his eye.

The chapter master was almost certain that this matter meant divorce for him.

Not only had he hidden a great secret from his wife, but he had broken a centuries-old oath that would surely tarnish his reputation in the face of many, beginning with his chief librarian and beloved wife.

And yet, the very second he felt he were going to finally curl up and die, her laughter filled the room like a sudden and gentle symphony meant only for his ears. Not composed or pompous chuckles meant to impress for diplomacy, but genuine and heartfelt laughter. The shock alone was enough to catch him off guard and bring his sunken eyes to meet her form as she sat down next to him, her eyes filling with tears as her giggles failed to find any restraint.

"You hid from me over something so small?" She struggled to catch her breath. "Oh, oh forgive me my love. It's just that-"

"You are laughing..."

Dante tilted his head to one side as she took his face into her palms, meeting his eyes with her own and giving him a smile so soft he nearly forgot he had exsanguinated a baseline to the point of death.

"I could never hate you over something so small. You have been alive for a dozen lifetimes, tending to your own needs is not selfish, especially when what you need is freely offered."

Dante felt the grip of guilt release his mind ever so slightly and took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding and releasing his bodily tension as much as he physically could. He met his wife's smile with his own to the very best of his ability and allowed her to crawl into his lap. She settled on placing her stomach against his thighs, lying face down across his crossed legs, effectively trapping him sat on his own mattress as he rubbed gentle circles into her back, releasing short, silent, sob-filled breaths as days worth of emotional tension tied to a secret he had far overestimated fell from his cracked lips.

"No more hiding," She proclaimed, teasing and yet commanding. "I want you here when I wake from my sleep, this time."

Solspina's Scribellum✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

@astrohymn @moodymisty @undeaddream

@kit-williams @lemon-russ @egrets-not-regrets

@justeverythingnothingelse

(please comment to be added/removed from my taglist !!)

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #luis dante x reader #luis dante #space marine x reader

123 notes · View notes

sunlit-mess · 1 day ago

Note

I really really love your art!!

How did you learn to draw so well? Did you take any specific classes or watch any tutorials?

Do you use a mouse or a touchpad?

What hand postion do you use? Every time I try to draw my hand aches :(

Sorry for the all the questions, I just really love your art style

I've been drawing since I was a kid so majority of it i just self-taught and learn by experience. Influenced mostly by video games and outlet for emotions/thoughts. I used to draw with only a mouse and a shitty old computer (I loved it anyway), the same way you just browse and stuff, except you have to control your own hand's stability.

I was drawing with a mouse for years and it does tend to give me wrist and elbow pain, however, this is why it's important to rest, stretch, and exercise it to avoid carpal tunnel and other major problems.

Nowadays, even with a pen and tablet, I control both movements from shoulders and wrist depending on what I'm doing, using the whole arm for movement. I always have stabilizers set to ZERO, but that's because I've grown used to it and comfortably a long time ago.

#messyr #there are alot of great teachers and tutorials out there and online. but the best teacher you're gonna get is experience.

55 notes · View notes

secret-agents-found-my-diary · 19 days ago

Text

Top Gun x Reader — “Crash and Burn” (Maverick x Injured!Reader)

Set during the original Top Gun timeline (1986)

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

You weren’t supposed to get hurt. It was just a routine dogfight exercise. Simulated, safe, controlled. But “safe” didn’t always mean flawless, especially not when Hollywood decided to showboat and pull a risky maneuver—right in your flight path.

You’d tried to veer off, tried to avoid him mid-roll, but the sudden shift had thrown your jet into a sharp stall. The emergency eject triggered—more instinct than thought—and the explosion had torn through the sky, hurling you into open air before your chute deployed.

You hit the sand hard. Pain shot down your left side instantly, sharp and fiery, and when you looked—you saw it. A gash. Starting from your shoulder, running jagged and angry all the way down to your forearm. The torn metal of your own cockpit had sliced you open on the way out.

By the time the medevac came, you were conscious, cursing like a sailor, and refusing to let anyone touch you.

Anyone but Maverick.

⭒

Back at base, you sat on the edge of the sink counter in the med bay, scowling through the sting as Maverick crouched in front of you, focused and quiet.

The top half of your flight suit hung around your waist, arms limp in the sleeves. All you had left on was your regulation bra, white and soaked in sweat and grime, but you didn’t care. Not now. The blood mattered more.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asked lowly, unwrapping another roll of gauze. “The corpsman’s outside. They can—”

“No.” Your voice came firm. Strained. “I trust you, Pete.”

His jaw clenched at your use of his real name. He nodded once. Wordlessly.

You hissed as he began to dab antiseptic across the open wound. The cut ran long and raw, barely missing muscle. Angry red and already swelling around the edges. It was a miracle it hadn’t hit an artery.

“Hold still, baby,” he muttered, voice quieter now. “I got you.”

You bit your bottom lip to stay silent, trying not to wince, but his fingers—usually featherlight and teasing—were now careful, precise. Confident in a different way. His hands were warm as they worked, and even though the pain made your eyes sting, you watched him instead of looking away.

“Hollywood’s getting benched for this,” Maverick said, the calm tone barely masking the rage simmering underneath.

“He didn’t mean to,” you murmured.

“He was reckless. And it could’ve been worse. You—” He paused, fingers slowing as he ran the gauze down your forearm, pressing gently. “You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t.” You touched his wrist with your good hand, blood-smeared fingers brushing the cuff of his sleeve. “I’m still here.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked up at you with those piercing eyes, filled with a thousand things he wouldn’t say—not here, not now. Then he leaned in slowly, pressing his forehead against yours for a second.

“You scared the hell outta me.”

You closed your eyes, letting your breath steady.

“I’m sorry.”

He stayed like that for a beat longer before pulling back, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize it.

He kissed your shoulder, right above the top of the bandage, and whispered, “Next time you get thrown out of a plane, make sure you land on me.”

“You’d break my fall?”

He looked up and grinned. “I’d break anything for you.”

And you believed him. Every word.

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

#top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader #injured reader

41 notes · View notes

dreamwavesexploringreality · 11 months ago

Text

NIGHT IN THE LIBRARY

Niragi Suguru x YN. Pre-Borderlands.

TW: Bullying

This text contains themes of bullying, including physical and verbal abuse, intimidation, and emotional distress.

The sepulchral silence of the late-night university library was the only thing that seemed capable of soothing Niragi on those days when darkness seized his mind.

He had dreamt of the day he could leave for university ever since the first beating. He remembered it well: one of his classmates in high school had demanded he do his math homework during recess. Niragi had always liked math, enjoying the ability to solve problems logically and coherently, without involving his soul or heart in the process, just right or wrong, without half-measures or personalism. That day he focused on doing the homework of the taller boy who had tripped him in the hallways more than once, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't finish the last exercise before the bell signaling the end of recess rang like a sinister omen. With trembling hands, he handed the notebook to the boy who, accompanied by his friends, laughed at Niragi's trembling hands.

"I thought I asked you to finish my homework," the bully began, a sinister look on his face as he carefully reviewed the three handwritten pages.

"I-I... didn't have time to finish, but they're all done except the last one," Niragi said, looking at the ground and nervously adjusting his glasses.

"All done except the last one means it's not finished," the bully pushed Niragi to the ground with a strong shove, then turned to his friends with laughter. "Didn't you guys tell me he was the biggest nerd in the class? He can't even do that right," they laughed in unison.

Niragi still remembered the pain he had felt that day from the multiple punches and kicks they had given him while he writhed on the ground, and that was just the beginning of his hell. From that day on, no matter how hard he tried to avoid his abusers, they seemed to find a sick pleasure in making the boy suffer.

When he finally managed to leave high school, graduating with honors, he enrolled in the university farthest from his hometown to study Computer Science, and he did so without looking back or reconsidering it twice. Still, there were days when the hallways of the faculty seemed longer and narrower than usual, and the few people who might be there felt suffocating and intimidating to him. Niragi spent days looking over his shoulder, on alert, preventing any subtle movement that would make him jump and his breath catch in his throat.

That's why the library at night, mostly empty, was the best option for those days when darkness threatened to take over his mind.

YN's soft steps, contrasting with Niragi's rhythmic typing on his laptop, disturbed the cocoon of peace surrounding Niragi.

"Do you mind if I sit here with you?" the girl whispered, a stack of psychology books in her arms.

Niragi looked her up and down and remained silent for a few seconds. He had met the girl on one of his many nights in the library; they were usually the only ones in the room, and for some reason, the girl had taken this as an invitation to approach and introduce herself to the Computer Science student.

"Sure, it's not like I own the place," the boy said, returning to his work. He didn't intend to sound blunt or rude, but his instinct, honed after years of abuse, warned him that it was best to keep his distance.

If the girl noticed this, she didn't show it. She sat down carefully, dragging the chair and opening one of her books, immediately starting to read.

The constant typing on the computer was all that could be heard in the library until, suddenly, YN lowered the book, closing it softly and looking at Niragi boldly. The student noticed the girl's eyes on him and stopped typing.

"You've been here every night this week," YN began. "You look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"

Niragi didn't answer immediately. His conversations with the girl had never been longer than a brief greeting, sometimes just a nod.

"It's this project. It's demanding a lot from me," Niragi hesitated, torn between the instinct to evade and the fragile thread of trust he felt between himself and YN. He had always been good at hiding his true feelings.

"Mmm," YN hummed, nodding with understanding. "I don't know much about computers, but maybe I can help," she said.

This earned her a subtle laugh from the man.

"If you don't know about computers, what makes you think you can help me?" he said, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"I'm sure I can't help you with your project," YN laughed as if she hadn't noticed the boy's teasing. "But I think I can help you in other ways. I can keep you company and even give you conversation during your free time. There are studies that claim you can be more productive if you work in a good environment... accompanied," she asserted softly, as if reading aloud a passage from one of her books.

YN's unbreakable empathy and genuine interest in his well-being caught Niragi's attention, causing him to open his eyes slightly in surprise.

YN, as a psychology student, had managed to see during the time she had spent with Niragi a vulnerability beyond his reserved behavior, and she had chosen to act as a silent pillar of support in the midst of the internal turmoil threatening to engulf him. She found him a curious character and longed for the day he would trust her enough to open up instead of her pressuring him for details.

After a moment of uncertainty, Niragi managed to articulate the words that wore down his defenses and opened up to a vulnerability he had never shown:

"That sounds good."

YN drew a smile on her face, and a flash of happiness crossed her gaze, squeezing her heart as she understood that her study partner finally seemed to be starting to trust her. In a burst of confidence, she extended her hand to gently take his. Niragi's heart warmed by YN's genuine compassion.

"Coffee. My treat," she said, quickly getting up while still holding her partner's hand, urging him to get up too.

"That sounds good," Niragi repeated, mentally scolding himself for repeating the exact same words as before.

YN laughed softly, and a genuine warmth spread through Niragi's tired body.

The couple left the library, still holding hands, their steps resonating in the quiet of the night and a promise of brighter days floating in the air.

Until that fateful day, of course, when the fireworks lit up the Tokyo sky...

¿Part 2?

#alice in borderland #niragi x reader #niragi suguru #aib x reader #fanfic #aib #ao3 #chishiya shuntaro #aib niragi #niragi alice in borderland

259 notes · View notes

stellar-haikyuu · 5 months ago

Text

start somewhere ☆ nishinoya yuu x reader

synopsis: second-year reader sometimes feels like their physical education class is out to get them. but maybe, their classmate might help turn things around. details: mild hurt/comfort | romantic/platonic relationship | ~1.6k words | gn! reader | my entry for @phantasmaebg warnings: this is based on my insecurities related to exercise and sports back in high school, so please be cautious if it’s sensitive for you!

Physical education could be fun at times, but if there was one thing you dreaded every period, it was the warm-ups.

They were necessary, sure. You’d heard all the reasons: injury prevention, elevated body temperature, mental prep—the whole spiel.

The problem was that your physical education teacher seemed to enjoy torturing your class. Or maybe it was just you.

It always started the same way: some stretching and light jogging that lulled you into a false sense of security. But then came the dreaded laps. Ten relentless minutes of running around the court.

It also sucked that for this school year, physical education happened to be your first period—the prime time of your lethargy.

You at least had the foresight to fuel yourself with breakfast, but it still felt like an entire day had passed by the time 9:00 AM rolled around.

And now, at 8:00 AM, your class is walking to the school gym, chattering normally as if your impending doom wasn’t looming ahead.

You sigh to yourself when your teacher waves at all of you, far too cheerfully.

“Alright, you know the drill. We’ll be practicing handball again before our practical exam in two weeks. But first, our warm-up laps.” She grins before continuing. “Remember, if I reach the last person and touch their shoulder, one additional lap!”

As always, the class groans in unison. You avoid making eye contact with anyone.

You’ve always wondered if anyone was secretly annoyed by how slow you run; it’s just a miracle that you’ve managed to avoid adding any extra laps so far.

Everyone lines up their water bottles against the wall, proceeding to do some stretching and jogging in place. You follow suit, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Eventually, your classmates situate themselves behind the makeshift starting line: a long strip of masking tape on the hardwood floor. You drag your feet, trying to position yourself somewhere in the middle, a little closer to the front.

The sound of the whistle blows, and everyone starts running.

Despite the “head start” you give yourself, you’re reminded of why your attempts are always futile.

One by one, your peers start to pass you by the halfway mark. By the time you’ve completed one lap, you’re dead last. Again.

Your lungs start to burn, your breath turning ragged. The sharp and constant inhale-exhale rhythm makes your throat dry.

Internally, you scream at yourself to keep going, noticing the gap between you and the classmates in front of you starting to make itself clear.

You survive three laps before your teacher yells, “Let’s go, guys! Keep it up!” And at this point, you think she must be a sadist as she picks up the pace.

By now, your heartbeat pounds wildly in your ears, drowning out everything else. You lose count of the laps, just desperate for it to end.

A small pain also starts to stab you in the side. How unfortunate it is to get a stitch now, of all times.

“I’m almost there!” When you look behind you, your PE teacher is just a few feet away, laughing as the other students yell in protest. “Finish the lap! Come on!”

Cursing internally, you grit your teeth and keep running.

You will not be the reason your classmates will be inconvenienced.

You can’t, even if you feel like you’re going to drop to the ground any second now.

Though the starting line felt impossibly far, you managed to step over the tape through sheer willpower.

Cheers erupt from the class. You’re not sure if they’re celebrating the end of the warm-up or your miraculous escape. You’re too exhausted to care.

Whatever it is, it’s over.

“Good job, everyone! You survived.” Your teacher announces. “Now, take a little break, I’ll just call the staff to help get the rest of the equipment.”

You barely register the rest of her words. At last, the agony for the week is over.

The world spins for a while as you wait for your heartbeat to slow down. All you can do is collapse onto the floor, breathing heavily.

A dry itch rises in your throat and you cough to relieve it. However, you hold yourself back from overdoing it—you’d prefer if your stomach’s contents don’t make a reappearance.

Man, you hate this feeling.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The unfamiliar voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you. You blink, vision still a little spotty.

“Huh?” You breathe out, disoriented.

You vaguely see a hand extended toward you, and you take it. Your classmate helps you to your feet, guiding you to a nearby bench where you can sit down.

“Here.” He hands you your water bottle. You thank him before taking a long, long sip. Briefly, you wonder how he knew it was yours.

“I thought you passed out on the floor! Are you feeling dizzy or something?”

Putting your bottle down, you come face-to-face with Nishinoya Yuu.

Oh.

“Uh…” You’re a little overwhelmed by his concern, as no one usually bothers to ask. “Well, kinda, but I just need a breather. All that running is, um, a lot for me.”

You avoid his gaze.

Nishinoya was always behind or right next to your teacher. You remember how he’d ask for permission to run ahead, only to have his suggestion turned down every time.

You were in his direct line of sight these past few weeks.

What would he think of you?

“That’s alright.”

At his response, you freeze.

“What?”

“I said it’s alright,” he gives you a gentle smile, a contrast to his usual exuberance. “Running isn’t easy.”

You pause, unsure of what you could even say. He seems to notice your shift in mood.

“Is something wrong?” He tilts his head. “You feelin’ anything weird?”

“No, it’s not that.”

When you take a hesitant look at Nishinoya, there’s something about his expression that seems so…welcoming.

It feels like you could tell him anything.

“Then what is it?” His tone is laced a with genuine curiosity.

Just like that, you cave.

“I know I’m unfit,” you admit quietly, your eyes falling to the floor. “I know it’s not great for my health, and I’m trying my best. But it’s hard when… when everyone can see how far behind I am. I feel like they’re judging me.”

He doesn’t interrupt, patiently waiting for you to finish. You feel the weight of his stare as you continue.

“Maybe I’m just making excuses. Everyone else seems to be doing fine, it might just be me. And that probably sounds insulting to people like you.”

“People like me?” His voice softens as he moves a little closer to you.

“You play volleyball, right? I assumed that’s where all the bruises on your arms are from.” You gesture to them.

“Ah, yeah. You’re right.” He lightly brushes his arms, mottled with small purple and yellow marks. “But, what do you mean, insulting?”

“Well for one, you’re a school athlete,” you state. “You’re exempted from PE, yet you still-”

“Wait,” he cuts you off. “Exempted?”

“Yeah?” You turn to see him wearing a very perplexed expression.

“That’s a thing?”

A silence falls between the two of you.

Does he not…

You clear your throat. “You didn’t know?”

“I don’t actually know what exempted means?” He chuckles nervously.

You blink, momentarily stunned at the sudden turn in the conversation. “Um, it means that because you’re an athlete, you’re not required to participate in PE classes.”

“But why?” His disbelief is evident, like the idea of skipping PE is absolutely incredulous.

“Well, you already do a lot of training, don’t you?”

He nods. “Morning and late afternoon. But a short PE class doesn’t hurt, though.”

You stare at him, speechless. Wow.

“Anyway, that’s the rule I know of,” you reply. “They started it this year after the other sports teams complained.”

“Oh,” Nishinoya says blankly, trying to take it all in.

“You really had no idea?”

“Nope.” He scratches the back of his neck.

You nearly chuckle yourself at the absurdity of it all. “No wonder sensei looked so surprised when you asked to join PE. I thought she seemed hesitant when she let you in.”

“Yeah!” His eyes widen, as if he’s just pieced it together. “I thought it was weird that she kept double-checking, but I didn’t think much of it.”

There’s a brief pause before he grins at you. “Anyway, sorry, what were you saying earlier?”

It takes you a second to remember what he’s talking about. “Ah, right. Um. It’s just that I feel a little stupid making excuses when athletes like you do so much physical activity every day.”

“But you’re not an athlete?”

“Ah, yes, but-”

“Then no one expects you to train like me.” He frowns slightly. “Unless that’s what you want?”

Your breath hitches.

What do you want?

You swallow, shaking your head slowly. “No. I just…I just want to do well enough.”

“Well enough?”

“Just enough to stay active. Or maybe…enough to catch up to the rest.”

Nishinoya grows quiet for a moment, and you rush to explain.

“Sorry, I don’t really know the specifics-”

“Want me to help you out?”

You nearly give yourself whiplash as you look at him. “What? Help me?

“Yeah,” he says like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Wanna run in the morning together? Could help you with endurance. We’ll start slow, see what you can handle, and go from there.”

Your jaw drops at his offer.

“You want to…but wait, you have training and-”

“It's fine! I’m always happy to help anyone out!” He beams. “Plus, training is always more fun with a partner. What do you say?”

Warmth blooms in your chest.

“You’d really help me?”

“Of course!” He replies earnestly.

Would it be crazy to think Nishinoya was sent by the gods?

“You sure?” You lower your voice. “I don’t want to bother you over something that seems so simple.”

“Nah.” There’s a convincing glint in his eye that gives you hope. “Besides, we all start somewhere.”

masterlist

116 notes · View notes

customboytoyz · 3 months ago

Note

You know what, now that I think of it with that “monsters other than werewolves” ask I sent months ago I didn’t give possessed by a demon that makes you take hrt enough development.

Like imagine a social media influencer. She’s pretty, but not the scalpel-enhanced doll-pretty of the most popular on her website of choice. She doesn’t have the money for that, she’s never had the money for that, but what she does have is her grandfather’s grimoire. Despite all she’s clawed and scraped and kicked down ladders to get where she is, she does still have a soul and she’s willing to trade it for the perfect body.

She’s shocked when the demon tells her he doesn’t want it. Instead he holds up a single clawed finger.

“You have good bones, but I’ll need significant time to make the necessary adjustments. I want one year in full control of your body.”

She blinks at that, one year with a monster steering her around. She decides he’s probably some fucking pervert and shrugs. A year of ogling her own tits would be worth it if she hits 1 million by the end of it.

“Fine,” she agrees. “One year.”

As they shake on it, he melts into her skin and she begins her year as a passenger.

The demon begins a daily course of injections. Some glowing red shit she doesn’t figure would have any earthly counter part. He keeps posting to maintain her online presence. Lots of shots of them drinking pre work out, going to the gym. She hadn’t been a wellness influencer beforehand but she guessed it was fine, they were getting a decent amount of engagement. She tells the demon to lay off the creatine she doesn’t want to get too bulked up but he always just laughs and insists in her voice that he knows what he’s doing.

The panic hasn’t set in quite yet, that only comes when she helplessly watches her own thumb hover over the edit button of her bio.

“What are you doing?”

The demon clicks it. Removes her carefully crafted bio and replaces it with “need some time to think. Taking hiatus” before replacing her profile pic with a blank red circle and her screen name with a single period.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m moving to the next stage. We want them to think this was surgical not supernatural.” He says flatly. Tossing her phone on the couch as he finishes. She can’t help but notice her voice is huskier than it used to be. The explanation makes sense but she can’t help but feel like something’s wrong.

Even without being online they still go to the gym. They’re starting to get more and more stares. Looking at herself in the mirror as the demon exercises she can’t help but notice that her jawline has gotten sharper. Her cheek bones more prominent. It gives her hope. She’s going to look fucking snatched.

After the gym she watches him order a pair of clippers online.

“What are you planning to do with those.”

“Your hair is too damaged to work with properly.”

She desperately tries to wrench back control of her body.

“You’re going to make me bald?!”

“That’s part of why you’re going on hiatus. I’m giving you time to grow it back.” He assures her. Still she fights him every single day to no avail until the clippers come.

He sheers all of her hair off as if it’s nothing. It becomes nothing. Just a pile on the cut open garbage bag he had been using as a make shift tarp. He runs her hand over the remaining bristles and she wretches uncontrollably.

“Don’t be a baby,” he sneers. Her voice is definitely deeper.

He begins upping their dose to two injections per day and the changes start to become more radical, but he refuses to let her see. He begins covering every single mirror in her house and working out there to avoid her catching a glimpse in the gym mirrors. But even if she can’t see it she can still tell. At night she feels it as she lies awake but paralyzed. Her shoulders cracking, her ribs aching, the sharp pain in her shins. During the day she starts sleeping more often while the demon moves about. It’s easier to sleep when she isn’t in pain.

One day he walks them over to a mirror and wakes her up. She hardly has time to shake the rest from her mind before he whips the cover off. She doesn’t recognize what she sees until the figure in the mirror shifts the way her hand shifts gently turning his face so that she can see. She stumbles back and the demon lets her, ceding control. She’s grown strong lean muscles that complement her broad frame, her jawline is sharp and darkened with five o’clock shadow, her short dark hair is neatly combed away from her face, framing her harsh brow and piercing eyes, her breasts are completely gone. If she saw herself on tinder she’d say she had the perfect body, but the face in the mirror makes her scream.

It’s suddenly cut off as the demon takes back control. He stands, picks up her phone, takes a new profile picture and types up a new bio.

“What do you want your new user name to be?”

“FUCK YOU!!!”

He shrugs and types something new in himself, before drafting an announcement post.

“CHANGE ME BACK RIGHT NOW!”

“I can’t do that.” He answers calmly continuing to type. “I’m not done making your body perfect yet.” He hits post. “And even if I was, I still have 6 months.”

ohhhhhhhhh ohhhhh WAITER WAITER MOOORE POSSESSION FORCEMASCCCCC dude this is the first long scenario in a WHILEE that ive been sent on here thats making me crazy. 😋😋😋 thank youu

also do you think after the reveal the demon jacks off their cock in front of the mirror as she protests internally. i think he would. :)

#sighs. its funny to have people dedicated to serving you #ask #forcemasc #force masc #forced masculinization #ftm hypno #ftm nsft #transmasc nsft #fav #i loooveee possessionnnnn

64 notes · View notes

simply-whump · 4 months ago

Text

The White Olive Tree (白色橄榄树) - Whump List

Whumpees : Li Zan played by Chen Zhe Yuan and Benjamin played by Wang Tian Chen

Synopsis : During an interview mission in the turbulent East Country, Liang City satellite TV's female reporter Song Ran encounters danger. Fortunately, she is rescued by Li Zan, a Chinese explosive engineer who volunteers in the East Country. Li Zan's gentleness and childlike heart deeply attract Song Ran. With the same ideals and compatible souls, a spark of love ignites between the two. However, a sudden bombing attack puts a halt to this budding relationship. (MDL)

Genres : Military, Romance

⚠️Trigger Warning for PTSD and heavy mental health topics⚠️

Warning! Possible spoilers below!

Li Zan

Ep 1-3 : None

Ep 4 : (39:20) Jumps out of a car, hits his back, manages to avoid an explosion but still seems affected

Ep 5 : (12:45) Lifting some heavy debris, shoulder bleeding — (18:35) Hand injured, bandaged

Ep 6 : None

Ep 7 : (05:15) Slight wound on his neck, concern for him, wound treated

Ep 8 : (35:30) In a dangerous situation, very near an explosion, concern for him, unconscious, wakes up coughing, exhausted

Ep 9-11 : None

Ep 12 : (05:00) Was heavily injured in an explosion (off screen), in the hospital, back full of injuries, hearing damaged, told it will be very difficult to make a full recovery, suffering from PTSD, concern for him, curling up on himself (very very unwell, even more psychologically than physically) — (24:30) Crying

Ep 13 : (06:35) Scar on his chest, ears ringing (ptsd) — (14:40) Ptsd triggered, ears ringing, flashback of him getting blasted by the explosion — (19:30) Ears ringing — (31:00) Crying

Ep 14 : (05:05) Ears ringing — (11:15) Ears ringing, stumbling, ptsd, collapses, finally decides to go see a psychiatrist — (19:35) Diagnosed with severe ptsd, anxiety and sleep disorder — (39:05) Ears ringing, remembering his dead friend

Ep 15 : (13:00) Ears ringing, remembering his dead friend, crying — (23:15) Ears ringing

Ep 16 : (26:30) Crying — (40:40) Crying

Ep 17 : None

Ep 18 : (29:15) Ears ringing, unwell (ptsd) — (30:50) Ptsd triggered during an exercise, remembering painful memories, blaming himself, crying, concern for him

Ep 19 : (11:45) Teary-eyed — (17:30) Having a nightmare, wakes up, sweating — (32:15) Teary-eyed, punched

Ep 20-21 : None

Ep 22 : (37:40) Practicing diffusing a bomb, ptsd, fails, sweating, remembering painful memories

Ep 23 : (19:50) Snaps momentarily, remembering painful memories, crying, blaming himself — (39:45) Learns a devastating news, crying

Ep 24 : (24:00) Wakes up from a nightmare, ptsd

Ep 25 : (18:30) Wakes up startled

Ep 26 : None

Ep 27 : (11:20) Grabs a blade with his bare hand, bleeding — (21:14) Ptsd, breaks a glass with his bare hand, bleeding

Ep 28-29 : None

Ep 30 : (25:00) On the battlefield, ears ringing, ptsd — (35:35) Slightly injured, concern for him

Ep 31 : (20:00) Crying — (24:05) Crying — (30:05) Injury treated

Ep 32 : None

Ep 33 : (20:15) Has to dismantle a bomb, ptsd, sweating, under intense pressure, concern for him, hands shaking, hugged, eyes red, crying — (34:40) Exhausted, sleeping in the car, looked after

Ep 34-35 : None — If you don’t wanna get too depressed, just stop at episode 35

Ep 36 : (02:55) Stabbed, concern for him, bleeding — (06:55) Pretends to be unconscious — (14:20) Shot, collapses, concern for him, his loved one gets stabbed in front of him, devastated, screaming, fighting, stabbed, captured — (27:30) Hanging by his wrist, bloody (was probably tortured), barely awake, rescued — (31:35) Shot while protecting someone, fails to escape — (34:46) Brought to the hospital, heavily injured, unconscious, bloody, concern for him — (35:55) CPR, oxygen mask, concern for him

Ep 37 : (03:40) Unconscious in a hospital bed, hand bandaged (lost two fingers), wakes up, very weak — (09:05) Doctor says he should be sent to a psychiatric hospital, his ptsd is too severe, pretending to be okay — (32:05) Ptsd triggered, concern for him, crying — (41:50) Bumped into, ptsd triggered

Ep 38 (⚠️TW for implicit suicide⚠️) : (01:50) Ptsd triggered, scared, completely out of it, concern for him — (06:40) Crying, afraid of hurting his loved one — (34:35) Crying — (Ending more or less open but it is implied that he might have killed himself)

Benjamin (He has a very nice bromance with another character, Sa Xin)

Ep 1-3 : None

Ep 4 : (29:40) Shot in the arm while protecting someone, bleeding

Ep 5 : (28:20) Arm injury treated

Ep 6-10 : None

Ep 11 : (29:05) Someone dies in his arms, crying

Ep 12-13 : None

Ep 14 : (05:55) Arm slightly injured, ignores it

Ep 15-20 : None

Ep 21 : (03:00) Head and arm bandaged — (07:35) Stitches about to be removed, pretending to be in pain

Ep 22-30 : None

Ep 31 : (05:20) Shot in the leg while protecting someone — (06:40) Leg treated, wincing in pain — (39:15) At the hospital

Ep 32 : (01:55) In a wheelchair — (11:00) At the hospital

Ep 33 : (39:10) Hitting someone with his injured leg, wincing (semi-comical)

Ep 34-35 : None

Ep 36 : (32:25) Shot at while trying to save Li Zan, shot, bleeding — (33:00) In pain, sweating, driving, crashes the car, concern for him, on a stretcher, passes out — (37:55) Was too heavily injured, dying, wakes up, concern for him, dies (I was really attached to this character, even more than the main lead… I really wanted him to have his happy ending 😭)

Ep 37-38 : None

This isn't C-Drama... More like C-Trauma 😭😭😭😭

>> More Whump List

#the white olive tree #asian whump #whump #whump list #chen zheyuan #wang tian chen #cdrama #chinese drama

102 notes · View notes

alloftheimaginesblog · 3 days ago

Text

at world's edge - chapter fourteen

plot: Cassidy 'Cass' Vega is losing the fight with herself and with the Infected when Tommy Miller finds her and brings her back to safety. There she finds a new purpose; to live. Along the way, she makes friends and starts to find herself falling for a man almost thirty years older than her.

character: female!OC x Joel Miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show)

cast: joel miller - pedro pascal, cass vega - adria arjona, ryan winnick - brandon sklenar

note: cass is 28, joel is 51, ellie and dina are 16/17, jesse is 19, ryan is 31, tommy is 46

Cass had tried, she really had fucking tried, to ignore Joel Miller and ignore everything that had happened but she couldn't. Every time she closed her eyes, his panicked expression and urgent "Did it bite you?!" was the only things she could think of.

He cared about her.

But he wasn't brave enough to let himself love her.

And that felt like a punch to the gut.

Cass stretched her aching limbs, her shoulder better than yesterday but still painful to move too much, before getting out of bed and starting her day.

Ellie showed up at her door just after breakfast, a bowl of porridge with berries on top, a tired look in her eyes, "You didn't show," she shrugged, "I brought you something to eat. Heard it was rough out on patrol yesterday."

Cass took it with a soft, grateful nod and stepped aside to let her in. Ellie didn’t ask permission—she never did—but this morning, her silence felt a little softer than usual. They sat at Cass’s small table. The steam from the oatmeal curled into the quiet.

“You look like shit,” Ellie said, not unkindly.

Cass gave a humorless huff. “Feel like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

"What do you know about yesterday's patrol?" Cass asked, curious to know if Joel had spoken to Ellie about it all.

“Not much. He hasn’t said a word to me,” Ellie clarified. “Since yesterday. He was... different. After you got back. All wound up. Didn’t even go home. Just disappeared after giving his report.” Ellie leaned back, watching her. “Whatever happened out there—he’s not letting it go... It was Tommy this morning that filled me in. Don't know if Joel's told him everything but said a Clicker nearly got you."

Cass swallowed, "Yeah."

"But that's not all?"

Cass took another spoonful of her breakfast before she spoke again, "That scared me, course, but the thing that really scared me was Joel." Ellie frowned, "Ells, the way he looked at me once he'd killed the Clicker; the panic that was written so clearly over his face and in his words. He was terrified."

"... Why's that a bad thing?" Ellie asked with a frown, "Isn't it good that he's finally cracking and showing you how he feels?"

"Because I tried to talk to him after, twice no maybe three times, begging him to just say it. To stop being such a damn coward and say what he's been holding back."

"And he didn't." Ellie concluded.

"Correct."

"He's going to push me away again and Ellie, I'll be honest, I don't know how much more of this push and pull I can take."

They didn’t say much more after that.

And neither did Joel.

For the rest of the day, he was like smoke. Cass saw the back of him once, disappearing around a corner near the main hall. Another time, she caught his profile in the distance near the stables, talking to Tommy. Each time, he walked the other way before she could get too close.

He was avoiding her.

And it was working.

The silence in her house was unbearable.

She'd been back to the infirmary, they gave her more meds for the pain and gave her some exercises to do for her shoulder - painful but in the long run would be helpful. She'd gone for lunch in the main hall, spoken to Tommy and Maria about her injuries and how they'd take her off patrol for a few days until her shoulder was better and just arrange for her to do small time, easy jobs for the time being. She'd traded with Seth, a knife for two books in pretty good condition.

She thought that she'd have tired herself out enough to sleep. Wrong.

She paced her living room for ages. Tried to read, couldn't get past page one. Rearranged her furniture (slowly and carefully so as not to hurt her shoulder further). Took inventory of her clothes and figured out what she'd need to find more of or trade for. Her skin felt too tight. Her brain wouldn't shut up.

At midnight, she gave up trying to sleep and pulled on her boots. She didn't know where she was going, she just needed to get out the house and move.

Jackson was quiet, peaceful. She felt like she could breathe better being out here under the stars. A dog barked in the distance, laughter came from the bar. A cold breeze bit through her jacket.

Eventually, her feet carried her towards the stables to see her favourite girl, Lemon, but that's not all she found there.

She hadn't been looking for him but she found him anyway.

Joel.

He was in one of the stalls, brushing down one of the mares in slow strokes. The lantern light cast harsh shadows across his face. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff. He was a walking contradiction. His face was furious but his touch was gentle.

Cass froze when she saw him.

Joel looked up. His eyes widened slightly—but he didn’t say anything. Just went back to brushing.

She should’ve turned around. Left him to his brooding silence. But something inside her cracked.

“Really?” she snapped.

He kept brushing.

“You’re just gonna act like nothing happened?”

Joel’s hand stilled.

He didn’t look at her when he said, “Nothing did happen.”

That broke the dam.

“You screamed at me like I was already dead,” she said, stepping into the stall. “You looked at me like I was your goddamn worst nightmare. And now you can’t even look me in the eye?”

Joel’s head turned slowly. “You think I wanted that? You think I wanted you out there—bleeding, covered in mud—scared outta your mind?”

“I didn’t ask you to come after me!” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t ask you to care!”

“But I do! Jesus, Cass—what do you want from me?”

She stepped closer, shaking. “I want you to stop pretending like I don’t exist when all I fucking do is think about you.”

Joel’s mouth opened like he might say something, but nothing came out. His breath hitched. She could see his fists shaking, "You're too damn young to understand-"

"So that's what this is about?!"

"I'm damn near thirty years older than you, Cass!"

"Twenty three years not thirty." Joel rolled his eyes, "And anyway, how dare you act like I'm not 'worthy' of your time, attention or love just because I'm younger than you!"

"That's not what this is about. You've got your whole damn life ahead of you, Cass, you've not experienced-"

"Don't finish that sentence." He'd never seen her shake with anger before, never seen fury in her eyes like that, "I've experienced loss. I've experienced heartbreak. I experienced the world before it turned to shit. I've experienced people I loved dying, getting bitten; I've experienced it too. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't know."

Joel didn't say anything, he glowered at her, chest heaving.

She swallowed. All that anger evaporating instantly leaving her feeling meek. Her voice was small. “Do you feel anything? Or am I just making a fool of myself?”

He didn’t speak.

He just looked at her—like she was killing him from the inside out.

Then he moved.

One step. Two.

His hand wrapped around her waist and the other cupping her cheek.

And then he kissed her.

Hard. Brutal. Desperate.

She gasped against him, stumbled back into the stall wall with a thud. He moved with her, pressing his body flush against hers. He kissed her like he was mad at her—like he hated her for what she made him feel. His hand came up to cradle her jaw, his body pinning hers.

She kissed him back. One of her hands moved up his chest and beneath her fingertips she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. The other hand gripped his shirt collar, pulling him to her.

Days of tension, fights, anger. Weeks of yearning, denial, pain. Months of wanting had led to this moment.

It was messy. Furious. Raw.

And then—

He pulled away.

Like he’d been burned.

Joel stared at her—breath ragged, eyes wide. She reached for him again, brows furrowing, but he stepped back, shaking his head. His mouth opened like he might say something—anything—but then he turned.

And walked out of the stable.

Leaving her breathless, trembling, and completely alone.

#tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou imagine #tlou #imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x oc #joel miller #cass vega x joel miller #cass vega #at world's edge #oc #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us #ellie williams

26 notes · View notes