Tumgik
#there's less of these toxic and painful memories
knightjpg · 9 hours
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landslide
Ghost grits his teeth and fights it down; wrestles the images back into the coffin and puts his full weight on it. Back into the dirt. If he can repress it hard enough he won't have to feel it. He won't have to think about it other than just another nightmare. Just another bad night.
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tags: ghost/reader, finding each other again after years have gone by, reader has a toxic boyfriend
chapter 1 | next
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Ghost rarely sleeps well. 
Magnesium, painkillers, valerian, melatonin, passionflower—they make him sleepy and slow, but don't do much for actual rest. White noise gives him headaches; weighted blankets sleep paralysis.  
He's come to accept the ever-present dull throb behind his temple, the constant foggy weariness that only fades on his third strong cup of Earl Grey.  
It's not like he's unfamiliar with pain. Part of the job. 
But that doesn't make it hurt less. Most days Ghost feels as though his mind is a landscape fenced off with barbed live wire; do not touch. Do not go here. 
Do not trespass. 
In daylight he compartmentalises; he puts the fear and the stress and the adrenaline away in their coffins and buries them deep. It lets him keep his head level, keep his patience, keep his anger and spite to fuel his body. Keep moving.  
But in dreams the boundaries grow muddled. Memories, both false and real, mix with the present; a torrent of rain batters on his shoulders. Back into the ground. He tries to walk and finds he can't, feet stuck in the sludge. 
When he wakes he tastes the silt stuck behind his teeth. 
Years have gone by, and the scar is no longer a raw wound. It has grown new skin, thick and gnarled, though Ghost can't think about it too hard. He can't look at it— 
(the pain) 
—or it'll be real. 
“How'd that last run of sleep meds go for you?” 
Ghost shrugs. “Bad. Quit 'em after three weeks.” 
The man before him hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. “What was bad about it?” 
“Look, Jo-boy! There's uncle Simon!” 
Simon ruffles the snow out of his hair and stomps his boots on the mat again for good measure. He has to reach around the Christmas decorations to hang up his jacket; the shiny foil crinkles under his fingers. 
“Alright, Tommy?” 
Simon steps into the living room. The floorboards creak under his weight. Joseph laughs up at him and garbles, waving tiny little hands in the air. 
Beth pokes her head out from the kitchen. It smells warm. The oven hums; there's the scent of good meat, of new candles just lit. Home. 
“Simon! Oh, I'll be right there—we're almost done. Can you set the table, honey?” 
“Sure.” Tommy stands, picking up Joseph and giving him a twirl as he does. Joseph shrieks in delight. Simon smiles; he and Tommy clap each other's backs in greeting. 
While Tommy wrangles Joseph into his highchair Simon sets off for the plates. There's four of— 
Four— 
Four plates? 
Simon pauses, counts in his head. Yes, that's right. Four plates. 
The front door opens and closes again. A flash of winter wind chases through the gap. Another set of footsteps, a high voice that's not Beth's— 
Simon turns around— 
and wakes drenched in sweat. He's panting, desperate for air; a violent shiver rolls over his spine and suddenly he scrambles upward, dry heaving off the side of the bed. Nothing comes out. 
He squeezes his eyes shut, but the afterburn of three charred corpses clings to the back of his eyelids. One no bigger than Simon's arm, cradled in the arms of— 
Acrid smoke in his nose, eyes stinging with tears. 
Three—there was—there were four— 
Another dry heave. 
No. Ghost grits his teeth and fights it down; wrestles the images back into the coffin and puts his full weight on it. Back into the dirt. If he can repress it hard enough he won't have to feel it. He won't have to think about it other than just another nightmare. Just another bad night— 
“Is that the first time you've had recurring nightmares?” 
“No.” 
Ghost is looking down at his hands. He picks at a hangnail. He hates this.  
“But you did say it was different this time around, wasn't it?” 
Another shrug. 
The man in front of him taps his pen on his clipboard in thought. 
“If you're not against it I'd recommend you keep at it a little longer. That might give us a better idea of how you're reacting to it. Maybe we need to up your dose...” 
“Wine, Simon?” 
...have yourself a merry little Christmas, the radio sings. Let your heart be light... 
A glass is poured. Cutlery clinks against plates. The candle flames dance, shimmering under the sparkle of everyone dressed in their best. Joseph makes a mess on his face of spaghetti and marinara sauce; people laugh. A photo camera clicks and flashes. 
“A toast!” 
Four glasses raised to the light. The wine filters through Simon's glass like deep red petals, a ruby halo ring smattered against the surface of old wood. 
“What a shame your boyfriend couldn't make it,” Beth says. “What was his name again?” 
An answer, blurred. Simon looks down; the person on his right has slender hands. No ring. 
“More for us,” Tommy says with a wink. He looks so happy. He looks so in love. Simon feels more than anything— 
This was worth it. Everything he had to do to have this was worth it— 
“Simon?” 
Tommy's not looking at Beth anymore. He's looking at Simon, brows furrowed. His lip curls the way it does when he's worried. Why? Things are good. Things are... 
“Are you alright? Simon—” 
Simon's hand clutches at his side. A hook pierces through his flesh, glinting in the candlelight. There's wine— 
blood— 
spilling everywhere. 
“Where are you going?” Roba's voice rasps in his ear.  
“Did you think you could leave?” 
The scar on Ghost's side burns when he wakes; he grabs blindly at the nightstand for his painkillers. Swallows them dry, grimacing against the bitterness. Feeling his stomach clench and protest, sweat rising to his temples. Wine, Simon? 
He never drinks wine. Hates the stuff; prefers bourbon, whiskey. Beer on occasion. 
Ghost presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. It's not real. A dream. It's just a bloody dream. His mind is making shit up and those fucking sleeping pills have been making it worse— 
A photo camera clicks and flashes. 
Ghost breathes out through his nose, going through breathing exercises with gritted teeth and clenched hands. Relax. Fucking relax— 
“Do you want to hold him, Simon?” 
Simon wordlessly holds his hands out. Joseph blinks at him, brown bighuge eyes and a wet nose. His rosy little cheeks glow under the lights of the Christmas tree. 
Simon keeps holding him like that, hands firmly tucked under his little arms. Beth laughs a little when he doesn't move. 
“On your lap, Si, like that.” Beth gently guides Simon to cradle Joseph in his arms, tucked against his chest. Joseph reaches up and swats Simon's chin. 
“No, no, no hitting, honey,” Beth says, catching Joseph's sticky little hands. “Be nice to uncle Simon, yeah? I'll pop on the kettle.” 
Simon can't answer. Jesus, he's so small. Soft. Something catches in his throat when Joseph gurgles and yawns, sagging into Simon's hold on him. 
“She's a good person,” Tommy said when he first told Simon Beth's name. “The best kind of person.” 
Cigarette smoke curled up into the night sky. Cold out. 
“If I ever...” 
Tommy hesitated. 
“If I ever... fuck up again. You set me straight, yeah? I wanna—I'm gonna do it right. For—for myself, but also—to be someone that she...” 
“’Course,” Simon told him. 
“Thanks.” Tommy's lip curled. “You know. You're a pretty good person too.” 
Simon blinks back into the present when someone asks him, “He's so little, isn't he?” 
“Yeah,” Ghost says in his sleep, and wakes himself up. 
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You drain the last of your complimentary water because your hands are starting to itch for having something to do. You pointedly look away to the wall when you tip the glass; if you catch the waiter's eye by mistake again you're going to burn a hole in the ground from shame. 
You set the glass down. Tap against it. Notice, and stop. Fold your hands in your lap. Bounce your leg. Eye your phone—you've checked it every other minute since you got here and know there's no point; it's set to buzz. There's no way you'd miss a text. 
... 
You tap in your passcode and slide open the screen. It's still open on your texts: delivered, unread. 
17:34 Just got here! Are you on your way? 
17:48 Can you let me know when you leave? xx 
(1 outgoing call, missed) 
18:15 Is everything okay? I'm worried. Please text me back? 
(2 outgoing calls, missed) 
18:25 I'm really worried babe, can you please let me know you're okay? 
Another ten minutes have passed. You give the restaurant's entrance one final desperate glance, then get up and leave. You pay for the drink you felt obligated to get on your way out with a stiff smile. 
Just when you've reached the station—and have resigned yourself to an uneasy end of your night—your phone buzzes in your purse. 
You stop straight in your tracks; someone bumps into you from behind and grumbles at you as you make your apologies and squeeze yourself off to the sides of the grimy London Underground. 
“Dave?” you ask upon picking up, voice tense with stress. 
“Hey babe. Saw you called. What's up?” 
For a moment you're at a loss at what to say. The gift bag dangling in your free hand weighs a million pounds. You swallow. 
“We had a date tonight and you weren't—you weren't there. You weren't responding to my texts, and you didn't pick up, and I thought—” 
“Slow down,” Dave says. “What d’you mean we had a date? I don't remember making plans.” 
You close your eyes, begging whatever is up there looking over you for strength. “We did. Make plans. Why—where are you?” 
There's muffled laughter on the other end of the line; faint shouts, fragments of music with a fast beat. “Just out for a few drinks,” Dave says. His voice drifts; he moves away from the speaker and says something to someone else. You can't make out the words, but you can hear his tone. Nonchalant. Unassuming.  
Completely, totally relaxed. 
You stay silent. 
After a too-long pause Dave speaks up again. “Cool, guess we'll see each other next weekend?” 
“I want you to apologise.” 
Dave sighs. “C'mon, don't be so uptight. I forget a date one time and you get so fussy. I'm fine, don't be worried, just go home and sleep, yeah?” 
“This is the third time, actually—” you start to say with a tight throat. 
“Gotta go, babe. Bye!” 
The line goes dead. 
You stand there for what feels like a long time, looking down at your phone. Strangers shouldering past you in a blur.  After a few minutes a venmo notification pops up; Dave sent you twenty quid. For the dinner x. 
You cry a few silent tears on your way home on the tube. The reflection in the dark windows mocks you; a sad, pathetic little girl wearing grown-up clothes. 
What are you getting so wrong?
Is it unreasonable to expect your boyfriend to remember your anniversary? To show up when you buy tickets for a film he said he wanted to see? To be excited when you tell him about a promotion at work? 
Dave's never shouted at you. Never hit you, never called you cunt or slut or stupid little whore. It could be worse. That's just what men are like, your girlfriends say. Dave pays for your dates? He got you something for your birthday? He popped to the pharmacy when you were sick? 
You're so lucky! 
Lucky.  
You sniffle, wipe your nose on the back of your hand. You miss Beth. 
When you get home you don't bother turning on the lights. You flop onto your mattress still wearing your pretty dress—new, the snipped tags still on your desk—and close your eyes. 
Kettlebell hops up the bed moments later, and despite everything you smile a little when his whiskers tickle your cheek. “Hey, buddy,” you whisper. 
He chirps back. Another dip in the mattress signals Mim has come to give you a welcome-home sniff as well. 
You roll on your side, stroking your cats’ fur. You wish you could be petty and vindicative. Not show up next time Dave arranges an outing. Ignore him when he reaches out. Tell it to him straight—that he can be a real jerk sometimes. 
But just like all the other times you know you'll crumble when he comes over with flowers. “Movie night for two?” he'll ask with a smile. Cheesy pizza and inside jokes, falling asleep together on the couch. 
Comforting. Familiar. 
“I never asked, but these people aren't family, right?” 
You look over your shoulder from the kitchen. The microwave hums in front of you, corn popping arrhythmically against the bag. Dave is leaning over the arm of your sofa, looking at the few photos you have in your apartment while he waits. 
“Not by blood, no.” 
“You've never told me about them,” Dave says, craning his neck back. “Who are they?” 
You abandon microwave duty and move closer, perching on the sofa next to Dave. “That's Beth—next to her is her husband Tommy.” You point to a laughing, chubby baby smearing spaghetti sauce over his face. “That's their son, Joseph.” 
“Huh.” Dave cocks his head. “When was this?” 
“Long time ago. Seven—no, eight years?” The microwave beeps, and you get up to get the popcorn. “They died in a horrific accident a few months after this photo was taken. Gas leak. The explosion took out the whole apartment complex they were living in at the time; Tommy's brother, too. He was there when it happened.” 
It's long enough ago that the loss is no longer paralysing. You miss your best friend—you miss the family she'd built that welcomed you so warmly. You miss little Joseph, and you miss Tommy, too—from the moment you first met him you could tell he'd fallen head over heels for Beth. 
Who wouldn't? Young and beautiful and vibrant, filled with so much hope and dreams for the future. A dull sadness washes over you sometimes while doing the most mundane tasks. Laundry. Loading the dishes. Filling a bowl with popcorn. 
“Jesus,” Dave says. “That's awful.” 
“Yeah. I miss her every day. Miss all of them.” You put the popcorn down and look at the smiling faces in the photograph. The telly hums quietly in front of you. 
You startle when Dave suddenly claps his hands. “Alright, let's turn that frown upside down. Deadpool to the rescue.” He grabs the remote and presses play, music blasting from the speakers on cue. 
You settle in beside Dave silently. You've never cared much for action movies; prefer romance. Fantasy. Something you don't have to flinch away from—where explosions are the outlier and not background noise. 
The photo frames reflect the colours on the telly, jumping from bright white to red to white again. Illuminated in its glow, cut off at the neck at the right edge of the frame, a man holds up a glass of bourbon forever frozen in time. 
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corignem · 6 months
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ereborne · 4 months
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Song of the Day: May 14
"Diamond on a Landmine” by Billy Talent
#song of the day#buckle up babes this one's a nice showcase of how my brain retains memories which is to say it's a long path to a close destination#in early 2011 when Leverage's season three had recently wrapped#one of my friends was writing a character study piece for Eliot with a partial focus on his toxic relationship with Damien Moreau#and they made a writing playlist for the fic that included this song#(and also 'Laughing with a Mouth of Blood' by St Vincent. absolutely killer song)#and I like the song but for whatever reason I never looked up anything else by Billy Talent#(I was at the time not spending so much time looking up new music but more just letting it come to me#in 2017 St Vincent came out with 'Los Ageless' and I was like oh I know her!! and I started paying attention to her albums#which is good because then in 2021 she released the Daddy's Home album which has 'Pay Your Way in Pain' /and/ 'The Melting of the Sun'#which are absolutely incredible tracks and my life would've been less without them)#and then today I saw a Call of Duty post with lyrics from Billy Talent's 'Afraid of Heights'#and I didn't recognize the lyrics so I went and pulled up the song as how I do#and as it played I was like. do I know this? no. I know something like this. what is it?#and at first I was convinced I'd just been listening to it but then why couldn't I place it? and then I realized I hadn't heard it recently#but I had been /thinking/ about something /related/ to it--which I had been. sort of. there's a Damien Moreau post queued for tomorrow--#and then in Afraid of Heights the chorus was wrapping up#'you're the only one I'd follow til the end of time / if we fall we fall together baby don't think twice again'#and something clicked and I dragged 'Diamond on a Landmine' up out of the depths of my various-artists folder#it's a great song got an excellent build to it#'alone at last / I can't wait til we're alone at last / all I wanted was a second chance / a second chance / to hold you in my arms at last#and the visual of 'better watch your step / she's a diamond on a landmine' is fantastic#anyway! I made giant scotch eggs with my family's spicy sausage ball mix instead of the normal breading and they're amazing#a good day#two weeks into May already can you imagine
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adragonprinceswhore · 12 days
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Rumours
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Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife
Chapter VI: Storms 🎼 Masterlist
Summary: Aemond’s wife left him following an explosive fight last week, and he hasn’t been able to find rest since.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, depictions of a toxic relationship, possessive Aemond, shitty and useless coping mechanisms, reference to violence and injuries
Word count: 2300
A/N: Thank you always sweet sweet Justine (@theoneeyedprince) for looking this over and giving me ideas 🤭 ILY! The lyrics are interwoven with the story in this chapter, hope it makes sense! As you can tell, this is set a week after his wife left him, and before he wrote his new songs for Rumours…
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‘Every night that goes between, I feel a little less’
8 hours and 25 minutes.
That’s how much sleep he’d gotten in the last week.
Since the fight.
Fights. Plural.
It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into a physical altercation with his brother. His childhood memories are tainted by endless disputes, especially after their father died, back when Aegon would sneak out to get drunk while their mother worried sick at home.
Why was his brother seemingly incapable of behaving well? Aemond saw how his mother worried herself sick over her oldest son, while also having to deal with grieving the loss of her husband, and navigate the internal political turmoil the death of such an influential man left behind. And Aegon couldn’t even spare her further heartache.
Fucking pathetic excuse of a man.
It was, however, the first time he had hurt his wife. Physically, that is. She’d told him he’d hurt her before, when his jealousy got the best of him.
He knows he’s crossed a line. As soon as he lost his temper and threw that plate against the wall. Dangerously close to where she was standing.
He regrets it all. Why did it even have to happen in the first place? If she had just cooperated with him; worked with him instead of against him. Instead of hiding things from him, talking with Tyland behind his back.
He always knew that she’d leave. One day.
He’d never leave her.
Frustrated, Aemond lets out a quiet sigh and gets up from the bed, moving to sit on the edge, slouching as he places his head in his hands. He suddenly notices how quiet the room is; the loud thoughts echoing in his mind momentarily disappear as he ponders what he could do instead of sleeping.
He moves quietly to not wake Alys next to him, whose heavy breathing provides the only real sounds in the room. It is almost eerily quiet now that he thinks about it; such a stark contrast to the insufferable buzzing of thoughts roaming around in his head.
Rest doesn’t come to him anymore. 
His mind can’t provide him with any repose. Not even for a second.
He closes the door to the bedroom with a quiet ‘click’ and exits, moving towards the balcony connected to the large, open-plan living room.
She had picked this apartment, together with him.
Our home.
The memories of going to look at cabinets for the kitchen together, choosing a sofa together, fucking on said sofa, overtake his mind before he can distract himself.
‘As you slowly go away from me’
When he realised that she’d left and wouldn’t come back, he tried to erase her from the space, shoving all of her belongings into one of the wardrobes in the spare bedroom.
He couldn’t bear to throw them out. He couldn’t bear to see them either. She’d left behind everything he’d ever given her; all gifts he’d carefully picked out for her. Seeing her wedding ring on top of the kitchen island, next to the divorce papers and the shattered plate on the floor had made his stomach turn when he came home from the hospital.
‘This is only another test’
He’d suffered much harsher trials than this.
When he lost his eye in a car crash at only 10 years old, he suffered through the most excruciating pain of his life. He had to relearn everything; how to focus his gaze, how to read and write without developing a headache, how to play his favourite sports without running into his opponents. 
He’d managed all that, yet this time he felt consumed by an aching sense of dread.
A hopelessness deep in his chest.
‘Every night you do not come’
It was all too late. No turning back.
‘Your softness fades away’
He knows that the aching dread is the longing he feels for her. The thought of never touching her again, never being close to her again. 
Never being in her embrace again.
He feels a chill run through his body as he settles on the armchair placed by the wall, overlooking the bright lights of King’s Landing.
Reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nearby table, he takes one out and lights it before taking a long drag, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to rest against the back of the chair.
She’d chosen the patio furniture as well.
He fucking resents himself in this moment. Why is his body, his mind, incapable of doing what he wants? Forget her. She sure as hell wants to forget him.
‘Did I ever really care that much’
‘Is there anything left to say’
When she left during the fight backstage last week, he had wanted to run after her. But then he threw one quick glance at his older brother, and could barely see his expression due to all the blood smeared over his face.
He called out to him, but Aegon didn’t answer, laying limply on the old leather sofa with one arm hanging from the side and his mouth open. That was when Jace had come back in, face turning white in an instance as he was confronted with the scene before him, pulling out his phone from his pocket with a shaky hand to call an ambulance.
Aemond went with his brother to hospital, waiting by his side until he regained consciousness while trying to calm his distressed mother and wide-eyed sister. They had looked at him in the same way she had; eyes filled with animosity. He could barely meet their gazes as shame left his cheeks scalding.
‘Every hour of fear I spend’
‘My body tries to cry’
All he could think of at that moment was coming home. Home to her. To her warmth.
‘Living through each empty night’
‘A deadly call inside’
He takes another drag of his cigarette. Not being able to sleep, to eat, to think clearly is so foreign to him. It’s like when he lost his eye; he has to relearn everything. How to fucking breath.
There’s this restlessness inside him that won’t disappear, no matter how hard he tries to exorcise it. He’d tried going for walks; his usual go-to when he needed to clear his mind.
On one of those walks he’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.
How much time had passed? How long had he been out? He could hardly remember where he’d gone, what he’d seen or what time of day it’d been.
He’s lucky to have grown up in the centre of King’s Landing, knowing every street by heart, intuition leading his steps as he eventually finds his way back home. To an empty flat, haunted only by the memory of her.
She haunts him worst internally though, through his own mind.
There, in the eye of his mind, he sees his greatest fear; her with another man.
Any time he closes his eyes, the same image greets him; her, naked in the arms of another, throwing her head back in bliss.
She sighs and moans, letting her new man know how good he’s making her feel. She tells him too; that he’s the best she’s ever had.
She runs her hand down his cheek, unmarred and smooth. No harshly red scar, no unpleasant raised skin. Someone pretty, like her.
‘I haven’t felt this way I feel’
‘Since many a years ago’
He tried drinking; Aegon’s lobotomy of choice.
After downing two bottles of the Dornish red he’d received from some business associate when he was still working with his grandfather, he found sleep for 1 hour and 12 minutes before waking up with a racing heart and body covered in a slick sheet of cold sweat.
He would have tried talking to someone, if the only person he wanted to speak to hadn’t blocked his number. He’d realised that after being connected directly to voicemail each time he called her. That didn’t stop him from leaving messages though. First, they were filled with apologies and promises of never losing his cool again, of being better for her, of reassurance that he loves her. But as he grew to understand that she wouldn’t come back, his frustrations got the best of him.
He called her just to scream at her, into the nothingness that was her disconnected voicemail.
“I always knew you’d leave me! You fucking liar”, he spat as he threw his phone against the same wall he’d smashed the plate against.
It doesn’t matter. She’ll never hear them anyway.
The tiny bit of relief he felt afterwards hadn’t made any significant difference. He still couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find even a moment of tranquillity.
He places the cigarette between his teeth as he reaches forward to grab the notebook on the patio table next to his seat.
There’s one thing he still hasn’t tried.
As he plucks the pencil from where it's hanging on the side of the hardcover, he begins writing without thinking too much of what’s coming out, letting his hand guide his thoughts as he brings his plagued mind down on the paper.
‘In those years and the lifetimes past’
‘I did not deal with you, I know’
‘Though the love has always been’
His most recent attempt at finding respite from his mind was sleeping in his bed.
Our bed, he corrects himself with a wince.
He’d met Alys Rivers, manager at Riverland Creative Agency, earlier that day when he stopped for a drink during his quotidian nightly walk. She recognised him instantly, swiftly approaching him to mask her true intentions with some saccharine small talk. He knew she wanted to inquire about his band’s management; if they were satisfied with Tyland or if they’d be persuaded into joining her instead.
But all he could focus on was her hand casually placed on his shoulder as she spoke, her large, green eyes locking with his as she playfully teased him about his stoicism.
The heat radiating from her palm alone lit a fire inside of him, but rather than lust, he felt something akin to longing.
Yearning.
For warmth.
He asked her if she’d like to have a drink at his house, and when she replied with a wink and a cheeky retort, he knew she’d give him what he craved.
‘So I search to find an answer there’
‘So I can truly win’
Alys didn’t feel like her. Didn’t set the fire within him ablaze. Nor did she extinguish it. He didn’t feel better; he felt the same.
Restless.
Uneasy.
Different.
Broken.
‘Every hour of fear I spend’
‘My body tries to cry’
‘Living through each empty night’
‘A deadly call inside’
His hand moves on its own accord, words pouring out from him without having a chance to pass through his consciousness.
‘So I try to say goodbye, my friend’
‘I’d like to leave you with something warm’
Maybe he never gave her comfort?
Maybe all he did was take?
No. He knows he’s been a dutiful husband. He’s always been by her side, supporting her no matter what.
Unlike his own father; a shitty husband who was more of a burden on his mother’s shoulders than a pillar to lean on. Aemond knows that he’s nothing like his father. He gave his marriage his all; he never neglected his wife. 
He gave her all of him.
‘But never have I been a blue calm sea’
‘I’ve always been a storm’
But she didn’t want his love. She didn’t appreciate all he’d done for her. She didn’t understand him, not really. If she did, she wouldn’t shut him out like this.
Fuck her selfishness.
When he left his grandfather's firm to pursue music full-time, Otto Hightower had threatened to disown him, telling him that he’d make sure all ties Aemond had to the Hightower name would be cut off.
All he knew was how to be a good son and grandson. How to please his grandfather and mother. But when he confided in her about his predicament, asking her for advice on how to handle his grandfather's wrath, she’d cupped his cheeks and gazed into his eyes as she reassured,
“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other” 
Liar.
He feels bile rise in the back of his throat as he keeps writing, allowing the feelings he didn’t know how to express some outlet. The thought of her now makes him feel sick.
‘Always been a storm’
‘We were frail’
He feels stupid; blinded by the light of her love.
‘She said, “Every night he will break your heart”’
‘I should have known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted’
Being given such warmth from another person. That’s what made him addicted to her.
He’d never experienced that before, not even from his mother or sister. There was always this restraint; this rift between them, for as long as he could remember.
But she let him in with open arms; let him into her comfort without resistance.
And now she’d taken that away from him.
‘I loved you from the start’
Looking at the lyrics written down in front of him, he doesn’t feel better. His shoulders don’t feel lighter. His chest doesn’t feel less tight. All he knows is that she did this. She promised to be by his side forever and broke that vow.
He leans back in the chair, fiddling with his lighter in one hand as he reads over the text again. What would she say if she saw how much she hurt him?
Would she come back?
The fleeting thought makes a tight knot form in his throat and he swallows forcefully to make it go away.
She’ll never come back.
He picks up the paper, letting the fire from the lighter in his other hand grace over the bottom corner, and sets it alight.
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A/N: No, this is not a song form Rumours 🤭 but technically he doesn’t record it, so I think it’s fair! Tysm for reading 🩵
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kisscara · 2 years
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am i sinking or swimming? [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fatui!scaramouche, angst, no comfort, toxic relationship, blood
songfic based off of late night drive home's song stress relief
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his words shook you to your core.
this wasn't kunikuzushi. where did you go wrong? you stood by his side and felt his pain every time he lost a close one to him and yet he chose to turn into this... this monster. he was never home and whenever he was, he acted as if you didn't exist. he acted as if you were there for, what, emotional support?
scaramouche talked to you when he felt like it. when he felt like he was about to lose it, his mind flooding with the heart wrenching memories of them. it's always been them, but never you. why can't he see you? he says something along these lines during these moments. "(name), what do i do? i can't do this anymore."
were you his lover, or his therapist?
you gnaw down on your bottom lip, restraining pained sobs as you soothe your husband from behind him with your hands comfortingly rubbing his shoulders. "it's okay, kunikuzushi. you're okay, because i'm going to be here with you," you reassure him, planting a kiss against his tear stained face.
scaramouche's fist ball up the sheets of the bed as tears continue to pour from his eyes. without looking at you, he turns around and holds you in his embrace. "you won't leave me, right?" his voice is small and full of sorrow. one would think he was manipulating you in this situation and in this case, maybe he was.
your eyes widen. oh, oh no, what were you thinking? your poor lover was just in a hard place at the moment, so of course he holds mutual feelings for you, he's just feeling down! it's your job to help him find his happiness again and he'll go back to his old loving self.
his loving self...
it's stress relief from everything.
what exactly is his happiness? right, letting him take out his anger on you. after that, he'll definitely apologize and go back to loving you. he says the most hurtful things and his words slice like a blade. you could say that if his phrases were physically harming you, you'd be six feet under.
it's okay, because this is his way of coping. it's not the healthiest way, sure, but would you rather have the only important person to you feeling sad and lonely? no. no one would want that. you went through his mental abuse in a state of being completely lovesick with the man.
it will strengthen your bond with him and show him that you're never leaving, that he can finally put his trust in you and see you as his spouse. how much can you take though?
your friends always tell you stories about their spouse, from how they cook, to the type of plans they make for dates... it's endless. and whenever the conversation puts you on the spotlight, you're speechless. what would you tell them about your beloved kunikuzushi?
"he's sweet like usual..."
they would playfully laugh at your comment.
"that's what you said last time, (name)! come on, anything new? are you guys going on a date sometime?"
you simply shake your head and direct the topic of the conversation elsewhere.
tell me, tell me you love me.
you're on your knees of the living room in your shared house with scaramouche, hands against the floor as broken sobs break past your lips. how long have you been holding this in? how long... has he been holding back the urge to hurt you?
scaramouche blankly stares at the hand that roughly grabbed your arm before moving his gaze to your figure. his nails had dug deep into your flawless skin, creating bloody crescent marks. hesitant, he moves towards you with one step, and then two...
"sorry, (name), but i have to go back to my fatui duties."
of course. you'd expect nothing less of your loving husband. "is that all, kunikuzushi?" you croak out, voice scratchy from your cries. scaramouche narrows his eyes. "you were willing to take this head-on, weren't you? so take what you bargained for." his gaze lingers upon you for a few moments before he leaves the house.
you cry out in anguish. you aren't sure whether it's because of the pain he inflicted upon you, or the feeling of your heart being torn apart by his ruthless hands. you stagger to the kitchen, hastily running your wound beneath cold water and wincing at the sting. you wrap it with bandages and heave large breaths.
"i can't... i can't do this anymore!" you groan and wipe at your tears but they just kept on coming like an endless waterfall. "i've done all that i can for you, but i can't do this, kunikuzushi."
you were right all along. you're a toy to him. a toy to satisfy his greedy needs and wants as he lulled you into staying by triggering your guilt with his hypnotizing voice and solemn cries. you're a toy that he never cared for. but if that toy were to be taken from him, would he contemplate the way he treated it then?
come back, come back to haunt me.
scaramouche returned home with bandages. he just couldn't find the person he needed to put the bandages on. he wandered around the house for quite a while, thinking nothing of it. he brushes it off; you probably went down to inazuma city to see your friends.
he goes into the kitchen to put the bandages away, but finds an empty roll of bandages on the counter. oh. 'i guess they won't be needing this anymore then,' scaramouche thought to himself, putting the bandages into the cabinet and tossing the roll aside.
scaramouche goes back outside and decides to wait for you. he hopefully removes his hat from his head so you could see his face first thing when he caught you in sight.
soon enough, night falls. he rubs his eye with one hand, the other one sore and aching from holding his heavy hat. he won't go back inside until he's seen you. like any other dilemma the two of you had, he'll apologize and console you with his words as you fall asleep in his arms.
that day would never come for him, not again.
won't you, won't you let me be myself?
"have you seen..." his voice trails off when he realizes the looks of disgust your friends give him. his eyes go dark as they continue to whisper, acting as if he wasn't there.
"i feel bad for them but seriously, a harbinger?"
"it's fine, we should look after them. i'm glad they finally told us about him, it's no wonder they were so off lately."
scaramouche's shoulders sink. "s-so, you know where they are, right? can you please tell me, i just want to talk-" he's stammering in between gasps, not even realizing he's on the verge of bursting into tears. one of them grimaces at his look of agony. "leave them alone, you've done enough damage to them."
if scaramouche, had a heart, he swore it would have skipped a beat in that moment. "damage? no, no, you must be mistaken! i love them!" scaramouche's temper began to rise. who were they to tell him how you felt for him?
"stop it, please. they told us to tell you that they don't want to carry on with this relationship."
"archons, they were right, he really would chase after them. what a psycho..."
scaramouche felt the air knock out of his lungs almost instantly. 'they've got it all wrong, we're going to be okay, (name). i love you, i love you, i love you-' he stands there, watching your friends leave him heartbroken and in pain.
i was holding on but you didn't see my shots baby.
"i'm going to make it up to you, but i don't want to sleep alone." scaramouche whimpers to himself, curling into a pathetic position on the cold bed. his hands cover his ears as he shudders, startling from the booming noise of thunder and the creaking of the house.
his eyes are tightly shut, scared that if he opened them, he would see a horrid figure in the dark. what a child...
he blindly reaches around for your hand like he usually did, to tightly squeeze it to reassure him that you were there; you would keep him safe from any dangers within the night. you even said it yourself. "i may not have your strength, but i'm good at handling the night, alright? whatever scares you, i'll take care of you."
"take care of me, (name)... stay with me..."
all the times that I couldn't speak my thoughts well maybe.
at the tsaritsa's palace, scaramouche's fatui subordinates would be lying if they said the balladeer wasn't different. his eyes clearly showed signs of exhaustion and he was much too tired to even shout at them for a change. they thought he was a total ghost.
always moping around, mumbling your name and writing what seemed to be countless letters. it went from asking you about your day, to telling you about his day, to him writing paragraphs of apologies and so, so many 'i love you's.
whenever one of the fatui subordinates were in his office, he'd suddenly smile with empty eyes and ask, "do you have a partner or a spouse, perhaps?" scaramouche would lean back in his chair and add, "i have my own spouse. you see, they're very special because they love me even though i messed up a lot."
"i love them more than they love me. do you agree?" scaramouche would tilt his head and his aura sent shivers down the subordinate's spine. say no, he dares them.
for now, he hasn't chosen to send out a search party for you because he wanted to prove that he wasn't a psycho like your rude friend said. but still, the pain was eating away at him. every sleepless night and the guilt that was weighing him down was catching up to his mental health.
well this is what i wanted please don't feel so bad.
give him another chance. he's laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, mindlessly muttering, "our anniversary is soon. we can go anywhere you like. i have a special surprise too, so you better look forward to it and tonight, i can stay home. the tsaritsa told me to go on a break for today since..."
scaramouche turns on his side and closes his eyes. "i don't really know, but it's fine. we can have a date and i'll show all of your friends that i'm much more better than their spouses. or maybe, we can stay home and i'll cook for you. you never tasted my cooking before, but it's good, i promise you."
little conversations with no one. he hates the reality of his life and he wants nothing more than to be with you. he wouldn't care if you shouted at him or hurt him; seeing you was more than enough.
"you didn't like it when i talked about them, right? i'll talk about you, and only you this time, i promise..."
in love with a ghost please won't you come back...
© kisscara
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sinsatmidnight · 8 months
Text
30 Years Later
Pairing – Kim Minji (JiU) x Male Reader
Words - 3101
Sins – Smut, oral, sumata, shower sex
So...it's been a while. I have not been keeping up with what goes on Tumblr, I have to admit, and nor have I read any (most? I may have read a couple during this period) of the many stories that people have started after I stopped. I'm inevitably rusty, but I had this draft I started a long while back that I somehow got into the mood to finish, so I figured I may as well post it, just for fun. Maybe someone will enjoy it. Hopefully you like it if you read it! And no, I don't expect a significant uptick in activity from me, but I may pay more attention to some of the other stories being written. Working on this was not quite the healthiest thing (because uh, I may have overused a certain part of my body the last couple of days) and let's just say one of the reasons I'm posting this is because it already had a significant bit written. But I kinda wanna subject myself to more of this...abuse(?) now. Ugh I'm rambling, but anyways, hope everyone has a good day (or night)!
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(2130 hours, 20 September 2220, Eternity)
It started out muffled. The droning sound breaking into your consciousness, jolting it to life. You have no idea what it is. Or where you are, for that matter. Your eyes are closed. But your ears are sharper now that your mind is actively concentrating on listening.
A voice. Female. You can’t make out words but she sounds calm. And then your eyes slowly open, almost as though forced open by an outside force. That’s when you remember.
“Condition is stable, consciousness gained, cryo pods are opening.” That calm, droning female voice comes through clear to you now. There is a soft hiss as the transparent door of your cryo pod slides to the side. The light outside your pod is quite soft, and yet at the moment to your eyes, it is blinding. Disoriented by your awakening, you lay in the gel bed as you try to get your bearings.
“Eden? Status update…oh, and what is the current date and time?”
The ship’s AI, Eden, responds in the electronically generated calm tone that all shipboard Ais use. “Welcome back, Commander. All of the Eternity’s systems are currently running optimally. All crew members are in good health. It is currently 2130 hours, 20 September 2220.”
Your mind does the math easily despite just coming back from the induced cryo-sleep. Thirty years. Well, that would be right. Crew members were supposed to be woken up after thirty years to run manual checks on the ship’s condition and look over all data collected automatically by ship sensors and the AI. They stay up for two weeks and then go back into cryo-sleep. And after the first thirty years, this is repeated every five years.
Your mind remembers that crew members aren’t woken up alone, they’re normally woken up in pairs as an additional safety measure. One person who can handle technical or mechanical issues on the ship, which in this case is you, and one more person who is medically trained to check on the sleeping crew and in case of medical emergency.
Your gel bed is softening; rapidly melting as you defrost and becoming less of a gel and more of a slime. A marvel of human technological ingenuity; the clear gel froze quickly, was non-toxic in case of accidental ingestion, while also serving as a shock-absorbent and anti-bacterial bed for cryo-sleep.
You need to get out and check who else was awakened with you. As your hands reach and hold on to the sides of the pod, you realise that you have an erection. Your mind immediately jumps back thirty years prior, to the minutes right before the crew enter cryo-sleep. It might have been from thirty years ago, but those are your last waking memories and they feel like just minutes ago instead.
You remember undressing before you enter your cryo pod; cryo-sleep has to be done naked and trying to unpeel clothing frozen to a person for years is painful. And that was when your eyes caught sight of the occupant of the pod opposite you.
With long dark hair and incredibly kissable lips, combat medic Kim Minji drew attention wherever she went. She was tall, gorgeous and had a body that drew a reaction from your own. As you watched her unzip her white bodysuit and slip out of it, stripping off her underwear and getting naked, you felt the blood rush to your penis and you were glad that she was too preoccupied with her own cryo-sleep preparations to look over at you. You ended up getting frozen before your erection could soften.
Back in the present, another female voice that definitely wasn’t Eden’s cuts into your thoughts. “You’ve had that for thirty years, Commander?’
As you stumble out of the pod, the melting gel dripping all over the floor, your eyes immediately catch sight of Kim Minji’s naked body standing outside her pod, the clear slime dripping off her body and giving it a shimmering sheen under the soft white lights of the cryo chamber. You quickly realise two things: that Kim Minji is your medically trained partner that you’re going to be alone with for the next two weeks and that your erection won’t be going down anytime soon despite your embarrassment at getting caught. You technically outrank her, but that doesn’t matter when there’s just two people awake on the ship.
Minji’s gaze is fixed upon your groin and very obvious erection and a smirk plays on her red lips. “Oh, Minji, I-“
Before you can think of an excuse, Minji cuts in. “Thanks for the compliment, I guess. I’ve never had a guy have a boner for me for that long.”
You smile sheepishly and try to change the subject. “Let’s go wash up before we start work.” At the far end of the cryo chamber was the doorway to another smaller room. A shower chamber with a row of showerheads which to wash off the slime with warm water before you got dressed. There were no partitions, they didn’t bother with them, given that everyone is naked in the cryo chamber anyway. And anyone outside the showers can see into them, given that the walls and doors are made of transparent shatter-proof glass.
You drip clear slime onto the silvery metallic floor beneath your bare feet and the metal doesn’t feel cool to your touch, but given that you were completely frozen minutes ago, that’s understandable. The two of you make your way towards the shower chamber, walking past the other cryo pods which stand up at 45-degree angles, glancing at the naked bodies of other crew members stored in cryo-sleep within them. The water from the shower feels warm to you, a nice comfortable temperature. Minji is next to you, the water flowing over her naked and fit body. It's not helping your erection. Her voice cuts into your thoughts. "I can feel some slime on my back still, could you help me scrub it off?" You hesitate for a moment but then your hand reaches forward and runs over her smooth back, swiping the slime off. You feel Minji's body shiver at your touch, and she lets out a soft moan.
You are sure that your erection is pointing straight up now. Not that it wasn't before, but this situation is just prolonging it.
"Oh, that's nice. Can you do it a little lower, please?" She asks, and your hands move further down. Your hands are caressing her pert ass now, the soap lather coating it and making it feel smooth. Minji is letting out soft moans and you are enjoying touching her. As you wash her ass, your fingers stray between her legs, rubbing against her dripping vaginal folds. She is wet and it is not the water causing this.
"You're doing a great job, Commander. But there's a lot more I need you to wash for me." You turn her around so that she is facing you. You look into her eyes and she is biting her lower lip. Minji has a perfect pair of breasts, firm but soft and a nice handful. They are covered with soap lather now and you find your hands moving forward to massage her tits. You pinch her pink nipples, feeling her tremble as you touch her. Minji leans into you, her wet body pressing against yours. She feels hot to the touch, as though her temperature has gone up.
"Look, I really feel like I should help you with that boner of yours." Minji whispers breathily. "Can I do that for you, Commander?" She has already reached down and taken your hard length in her hand, her thumb rubbing the head of your cock, spreading the precum that had gathered. She gives your cock a gentle tug, and it takes all of your willpower to not cum on her right then and there.
"Fuck, Minji, that's- that's fine." You let out an odd mix of strangled gasp that ends in a muttered assurance, as her soft hand continues to firmly stroke your erection.
"Thanks, Commander. I appreciate it." Minji presses those incredibly kissable red lips up against yours, and her tongue hungrily comes out to play. You reciprocate, even as your hands are busy continuing to explore her body. Her hands, on the other hand, are one of the most pleasurable experiences you’ve ever had as your wet cock is deftly and smoothly pumped and stroked.
With a wink, Minji drops to her knees, the water from the showerhead splashing her face and wetting her long hair. She presses her tits together and wraps them around your throbbing shaft.
It feels good and your body instinctively thrusts forward, your hips rocking back and forth, fucking her breasts. Your balls are tensing up, and you can tell you aren't going to last long. It is smooth and slick between her breasts and the tip of your cock is rubbing up against her lips with her tongue comes out to tease the tip. Your eyes stare at her as she looks back at you and with a smirk, Minji parts her lips, taking the head of your cock into her mouth.
The tip of her tongue swirls around the sensitive head, licking up the precum that continues to leak. Then, she starts bobbing her head forward and back, taking more and more of your shaft into her mouth, eventually releasing your cock from between her tits. Minji hums contentedly as she sucks and swallows your cock, and her hand is wrapped around the base, pumping you in time with the movements of her head. Minji’s other hand has drifted between her legs, and she starts to furiously masturbate as she blows you. Her slender fingers plunge in and out of her leaking vagina as she keeps her thumb vigorously rubbing her engorged clit.
As you lock eyes with the gorgeous medic on her knees in front of you, she gives you a sultry look, her lustful eyes peering into yours as she sucks you off. Minji’s expert tongue swirling around your shaft and the vibrations of her moans as she takes your dick deep into her throat very quickly becomes too much for you. Your hands need to grab something, to get control.
Your fingers run through her long hair and roughly grab hold of her head, pulling her towards you as you thrust into her mouth hard. You hear her gag a little, but she doesn’t stop with her movement. You feel the pressure building up, and your hips are moving of their own accord. Your cock is hitting the back of her throat, and your balls are tightening.
With a moan, you cum in her mouth. Thick spurts of cum erupt from your dick and fill her throat. She swallows it all, and stands up, licking those red lips. "That was tasty. It’s not every day you get to taste cum stored up for thirty years."
You barely register her words, breathing heavily. That was the most intense orgasm of your life. Your cock is still hard, but Minji is seemingly satisfied. For now.
Or maybe not. She steps away from you, and turns around, bending over. Her shapely ass is facing you, and her pussy is glistening. She looks back at you and wiggles her hips. "Can you help me clean down here too, please?"
You can't refuse Minji’s request. You have to return the favour, after all. You move towards her and rub her pussy. It is dripping wet, and her juices are flowing freely. You stick a finger inside her and feel her walls clench around it. She lets out a gasp, and pushes her hips back, as if wanting more.
"Oh, I really need it, Commander." She pants, as you continue to finger her. You pull out, and she lets out a groan. "Why did you stop?"
"Just making sure you're ready for me." You reply as you give her pert ass a quick spank, drawing a low moan from the medic. You position your cock at her entrance and push inside her.
She gasps and whimpers as you enter, and you feel her pussy walls tighten around your shaft. You start to thrust into Minji’s soaked pussy, and she groans while pushing her hips back to meet your thrusts. You grab her hips and pull her closer, helping her out in an attempt to get ever deeper inside her. She cries out in pleasure, as you fuck her as hard and fast as you.
It doesn’t take long before you are getting close to climax, and she is too. You can feel her walls tightening around your shaft, and her breathing is getting faster. You grip her hips tightly and pound her harder.
"Commander!" She moans, as she orgasms. Her juices flow over your cock, and you can't hold back any longer. You pull out of her and explode all over her ass and back, creating a sticky mess there. And then you plop down on the ground, all this exertion so soon after coming out of cryo-sleep has taken a lot out of you.
You both pant, catching your breath. Minji crawls over and kisses you deeply. "Thanks, Commander. I can't wait to work with you for the next two weeks." You can only nod breathlessly in response, your tongue wrestling with hers. Minji breaks the kiss and stands up, with her back to you. “Well, going to need your help with this mess here. Your fault, so you clean it up, sir.” Your gaze goes over her cum-glazed skin and you stand up to grab a sponge from the side of the room, lathering it up with some body wash from a dispenser. You start to work on cleaning her up, using the sponge to get your semen off her skin. But Minji is inherently distracting. It is clear whenever you touch her that she is affected by it. You hear some sighs of pleasure, even the occasional whine when your hands leave her.
This inevitably affects you and you are somehow hardening again down below. You make a split-second decision and suddenly press Minji's wet body up against the wall. You swiftly follow that up by sliding your semi-erect dick in between her soaked creamy thighs. You start to thrust in between her thighs, making sure that you brush against her pussy fold throughout.
"Oh, you're naughty, sir." Minji pants lustfully. You can feel the warmth of her vagina radiating through your thrusting member. You are quickly erect once more. This feels even better than her sucking and giving you a titfuck. "How is this, Minji?" You whisper into her ear.
"Fuck, Commander. That's… that's really good. Really, really good." She whimpers breathily, her body pushed up against the transparent wall, tits first. Your cock continues to slide between her thighs, teasing her pussy. You are both covered in soapy suds, the water from the shower spraying and splashing on the both of you. Her skin feels silky smooth and slippery to the touch. With each thrust, her ass and thighs clap loudly. You reach forward and fondle her tits, her nipples hardening and her breathing quickening. You keep thrusting, enjoying the feeling of her soapy thighs wrapped around your shaft. Minji is moaning and gasping with each thrust, and her breathing is getting faster.
Her legs are trembling, and her juices are flowing freely, mixing with the soap suds and water. Your balls slap against her clit, and she cries out in pleasure, her whole body shaking. You reach forward and grab her wrists, pinning her to the glass wall. She lets out a moan and arches her back. You kiss her neck and shoulders and continue to fuck her soapy thighs. She is whimpering and moaning with every thrust, and her juices are flowing freely, making her inner thighs and your cock very slick and slippery.
Your thrusting becomes faster and more urgent. Minji is definitely close to climaxing; you hear her moans and whimpers are getting less coherent and more urgent; you’re sure you catch some lust fuelled whining and babbling about wanting your cum and something about being fucked hard. Your cock is slamming against her pussy, and her walls are clenching around it, her juices leaking out. She is breathing heavily, and her legs are trembling.
You release one of her hands and guide it down to her clit, prompting her to start rubbing it furiously. Her fingers are a blur, and her moans become louder and more urgent. You continue to fuck those soaped-up milky thighs of hers, and she is practically screaming in pleasure, her voice echoing off the walls of the shower room. Not that you had to care about anyone hearing you. You did have an odd sort of audience in the rest of the crew outside in cryo-sleep, just beyond the transparent wall you have pressed Minji against.
Your cock is twitching and pulsating, and you can feel the pressure building up. You are both close to that final edge, and the only sounds are your heavy breathing, the splashing water, and the loud clapping sound of her ass and thighs slapping against your cock and balls.
You thrust forcefully into her thighs a few more times, and then you erupt. Your thick, creamy load sprays onto her thighs and the transparent wall, coating them in your semen. Her body shudders, and she cries out, reaching her own climax. Her juices flow over your shaft, and she slumps down, exhausted. You follow suit and collapse next to her. You both lie there for a while, trying to catch your breath. You do catch out of the corner of your eye, that Minji takes a few licks of your cum from the wall.
The two of you eventually manage to finish your shower and dry up, with you eyeing Minji the whole time as she puts that white bodysuit back and zips it back up. She catches your eye, bites her lip, and then smirks naughtily. You’re both relieved and regretful that your cock is worn out and needs rest. That would have brought it back up. You and Minji are both very well aware that you don't actually have much to do over the next couple of weeks, other than the occasional diagnostic check of the ship’s systems and such. The ship’s AI, Eden was there to handle the heavy lifting. And so, you're very much looking forward to the next couple of weeks alone with Minji.
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vandnana · 2 years
Text
In Love With The Enemy [I]
Chapter 1: Why So Blue?
pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader
summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.
genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part 
highlights: [lo’ak already having a crush on the reader after LITERALLY almost trying to kill her, jake and reader have their tearful reunion!, quaritch still in his toxic dad era, and lo’ak admiring reader in the bioluminescence of the forest]
word count: 9,332
note: hello! thank you all again for waiting for this part! a couple things...when i was writing, i got soo carried away, but i couldn’t help writing in moments of reader with lo’ak in their first encounters cause shes totally intrigued and he has an effect on her, but both of them are in that awkward staring phase??? with that being said, i hope you enjoy!!
[Prologue] [chapter 2]
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Light infiltrated your senses, invading your shut eyes as you heard voices around you, the sounds distant at first, but slowly heightening as you came to. Opening them, the fluorescent lights stunned you, your hand instinctively finding its way to the front of your face. You pulled it away, the sight so shocking that you figured you were in hell, punished to be what you had failed to protect.
You were blue, a Na’vi, adorned in hospital gowns with wires attached all over your body. 
You felt sharp pains in your head and pangs in your heart, endless memories flooding your mind in swarms, the happiness, the pain, the loss...you remembered it all as you took in your surroundings. 
You got up instantly, pulling off the wires as you searched around, your vision becoming less blurry as you continued to blink. 
You looked for Grace first before you realized she was gone, murdered by your father, the agony once cauterized now festering into an open wound as the memory sunk stones in your heart. You were looking around for Jake, Norm and, Trudy, but they were nowhere to be found. You were alone, heartbroken, and confused. 
“Whoo! Looks like the baby’s awake!” You heard from behind the door, other blue figures walking in wearing full camo, all of them strutting over to you. 
In your newly awakened shock, you had a delayed reaction to your body just waking up, your muscles suddenly feeling like jelly as you kept yourself steady on the bed with your hands. As everyone filed in, you hoped that at least one of them would be Jake, but you sunk your shoulders as you realized who they were.
Wainfleet, Warren, Zdinarsk, and Fike. They were the soldiers you grew up training with, all cut from the same obnoxious and arrogant rock. 
Wainfleet shook your shoulders, laughing loudly as he looked at your expression, your teeth gritted as you did your best to hide how much you despised all of them, “Hey y/n, why so blue?”
The rest of them laughed aloud with him, and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you aggressively, which only made him erupt with more laughter, “Still as feisty as ever.” Wainfleet sighed. 
Lagging behind, one last person walked through the door, and unlike the rest of the regiment, he was wearing hospital gowns like you were. When he turned toward you, you recognized him right away.
It was Quaritch, your father, the man you owed your life to when you were human. 
But it wasn’t really him. 
He had become his worst nightmare and in seeing him, you were convinced that you really had been damned to hell. He was Na’vi too and a real sight for sore eyes, his movements awkward and almost repulsed as he approached, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The only comfort that he seemed to take refuge in was seeing you, his daughter, his prodigy.
He hugged you and for the first time, he smiled. “My little girl, real nice to see you.”
You hardly shared the same sentiment, the comfort you should have felt replaced by torment and pain. Your memories with your father were consumed by both, and in that moment, that was all you could feel. It was rare for him to ever hug you like this. You never felt any warmth from his embraces, just a temporary sense of relief that you had done something right, that you didn’t disappoint him. You had endured it all your life, desperately clinging to the good things he did, your gratefulness to him for saving you from a worthless life overwhelming any rational thought.
Your father seemed to be the one savoring the feeling of holding you, the roles unexpectedly reversed as he, for the first time in his life, clung to you, like you were the only tether to who he once was. 
Before, you would have considered yourself lucky, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and savoring that feeling. But as you sat on the bed, you kept your arms at your sides and your eyes glued to the ceiling, biting your cheek as you fought every urge to give into your anger, to push him off you and make him pay for what he did to Grace. 
You took a deep breath in, relaxing as you faced forward again, “I’d be stupid to believe that we were brought back for a simple reunion. Why are we here? And how are we avatars?” You had a firm tone, almost emotionless besides your lifted syllable at the end to indicate your question.
Quaritch let go of you, a proud, satisfied grin on his face as he pulled back, “Perceptive as always.” 
He crossed his arms, “All of us got our ticket punched the last time we were on Pandora, and for the sins of our past we have been brought back to life in the form of our enemy to complete one simple task.”
“What’s the mission?” You remained stoic, mirroring your father as you crossed your arms. 
He chuckled lightly, his tone suddenly confident as his eyes reflected his renewed sense of purpose, “We’ve been ordered to eliminate the leader of the Na’vi insurgency known as Toruk Makto.”
The emotion you held in burst out in the surprise you showed in your widened eyes. Unfolding your arms, you felt a flit of relief settle in your heart, “Jake’s alive?” 
He turned his head, the rest of your regiment whooping with excitement, their smirks irradiating a sinister aura as they gathered around your father. 
“That’s right, y/n. Sully’s alive.” Your father gloated, his eyes ferocious with vengeance, “And we’re gonna kill him.”
He gave you no chance to protest, walking out with the rest of the regiment as he pointed to the clothes beside you, “Now, go on and get dressed. We got an hour before Pandora insertion.” 
You grabbed the clothes from the table, your hands tightening around them and your breathing ragged as you could feel your frustrations finally spill out. 
You had been born again, but at what cost? 
The same people that sent you to Pandora were the same people that made an unholy decision, reaching into the past and plucking you out of the comfort of death just to reclaim the glory they still believed was theirs.
When you had awoken, you had figured you had damned yourself for all eternity, and in learning about your new mission, you were right. You were thrust back into your own nightmare, a horrible repeat of the life you had once known, your orders betraying what you had in your heart, just like it did before.
You wanted no part in reclaiming glory and rewriting your father’s failure, but it was the only reason why your heart was even beating. Your mind was only just catching up on your grief, the loss so fresh and so vivid that you felt guilty to have that heartbeat. 
You were the Colonel’s daughter. 
Why did you deserve to live when Grace was dead? Why did you get a second chance at life when your only reason for breathing was to destroy Jake?
Everything about your life now was born from selfishness, the selfishness of Sky People that had no respect for philosophies regarding life and wholly disregarded the notions that dead things should stay dead.
You didn’t know what happened to Trudy or Norm, but you naturally thought the worst, and that made your mere existence even more unbearable. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you died, but for you, you never felt that time pass, never felt the pain of being gone from those you love. It felt cruel to be alive, the torment of it aching you as you thought of how Jake must have felt when you died and how much it must have hurt. 
You looked up, your eyes catching a glimpse of your reflection in the metal lining of the walls. You touched your face lightly as you stared, so bewildered by how you looked. You weren’t the old you anymore, only the shell of your humanity in the semblance of your features. 
And for the first time since you woke, you smiled, “If only Grace could see me now.” You mumbled to yourself, the sadness of losing her still lingering behind the calm that settled over you at having thought about her. 
You got up, finally deciding to change out of your gowns, and you could have sworn you heard Grace’s voice in the back of your mind, telling you what she always loved to tell you, how you were smarter than you let yourself believe and how you had a heart bigger than the soldiers you were surrounded by.
You took a look at yourself again, those words that felt as if they were just spoken yesterday shrouded over you. It felt unfair to be alive, and that guilt was deep inside of you, but you pushed that feeling aside as your own sense of purpose triumphed over it.
Whatever it took, whatever you needed to do, you were going to save what was left of your family.
You were going to save Jake. 
~
It was two minutes until Pandora insertion, your breather on as you waited for your descent onto the planet. You were quiet, keeping to yourself as you rode along with everyone else, absorbing every detail of the plans until you could figure out the best way to help Jake. 
When you had finally reached the ground, the hatch opened and getting up, you walked out, expecting to find yourself surrounded by the forest you loved so much. 
Pulling your breather off though, your smile dropped, your eyes unwilling to process the inconceivable truth. In front of you was the reckoning of humanity in full form, its destructive touch creating an unhallowed grave of the once-rich earth below it. Flashbacks filled your mind as you remembered your early life on earth, the desecration of the forest mirroring the desolation that you had escaped when you left for Pandora. Sky People had killed their Mother, holding onto the little that she could provide before finally destroying Her integrity.
Back then, Selfridge was all about the money, and while greed was still very much a part of the new frontier you had found yourself in, humanity’s motives had suddenly become desperate for something else--a new home.
The air no longer held a healthy vigor, a gray density taking its place and expelling a putrid, metallic smell that filled your nose. You were in horrid disbelief, the sight in front of you giving reason to the smell as you rubbed your eyes, still not wanting to believe that the damnation in front of you was real. You were witnessing an entire infestation, complete with insect-shaped machina, their hardware programmed to build the towers and towers of future buildings that would make up what would be known as Bridgehead City. 
Behind you, you felt slight relief to see that forest still remained in the distance, but with how quickly the machina bugs were building, it was only inevitable that their work would continue southward and beyond. The General in charge, General Ardmore, although satisfied with the progress that they had made in a year, was still taking losses thanks to Jake’s raids, his forces the only reason that the land had not been fully conquered.
You were looking at the footage from his recent raid, Ardmore’s hands on her hips as she explained the situation, “Jake’s raids are becoming bolder and more frequent.”
Putting a hand on your chin, you let out a weak chuckle, “Looks like Sully’s giving you a run for your money.”
Wainfleet nudged you in the ribs with a disapproving look, but you shoved him away, crossing your arms, “I’m only speaking the truth. He was a Marine, guys. I’m not surprised. He knows exactly how you all think.” Your tone was condescending as you glared at General Ardmore, who seemed to only tolerate your consistent interruptions.
She glared back at you, “Are you questioning my methods, Lieutenant?”
Quaritch was taken aback, putting a hand up to your chest, to stop you from continuing. You looked at your father and defiantly you spoke again. “I am questioning your methods, General. You may have been able to tame this frontier in a year with your bionic bugs, but these...savages with their bows and arrows still have you all by the balls.”
She scoffed, “I’d watch that tone, Lieutenant,” She paused as you kept your glare on her, and she turned, another holographic projection of the Hallelujah Mountains emerged, “Although, what you said does hold some truth. We’ve come to believe that he’s holed up somewhere in these mountains within one of its cave systems, but every time we go up there, we take losses. Can’t be more than ten minutes in enemy airspace without stirring up the hornets’ nest.”
You watched as helicopters were swarmed with hoards of ikran, and you were instantly fascinated, your mind querying the possibility of such a hive mind response by animals, “How odd. They never used to do that before.”
“Our only hope of finding Jake’s base is you guys. We think that you will be perceived as indigenous and won’t trigger the immune response, but that’s only our theory.” General Ardmore 
“And how might we test that theory?” You asked, crossing your arms.
Tight-lipped, she sucked a breath in, “The hard way.” 
Quaritch snickered, a cocky smirk on his face, “Outstanding.” 
“Good. No time to waste. Let’s fly.” She replied with a pleased grin.
Ardmore ordered for a helicopter to be prepped and escorted you toward the hangar. When you entered it, the pilot was just getting into the helicopter and you instantly thought of Trudy, your best friend who loved to raid the caf late at night with you and begged you to fly with her all those years ago.
Quaritch interrupted your thoughts as he pulled you back, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t talk to your superiors like that again, you understand me?”
Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes sir. I understand.” 
“You better. Now get in.” He let go of your arm, motioning for you to enter the helicopter. 
Wainfleet had a dumb smile on his face, asking curiously, “Where we headed first, Colonel?”
“Where it all started.” He replied, his eyes lighting up with his inspired rage, “W
Touching down on one of the mountains, a stream of nostalgia flowed through you as your mind replayed the first day you had ever landed there with Trudy. Site 26 was only a couple meters away, but each step was like a remnant of the past, scenes flashing in front of you as if you were only there yesterday. 
You suddenly felt like you were home once again. 
The forest had grown so much, the plant life around you like a warm blanket as the trees enveloped your figure everywhere you went. The soft earth squished down as you took a step while the intertwining branches and brambles gave you a hearty challenge as you maneuvered. Your ears twitched at the range of sounds, some delicate and others obvious, those ones keeping the rest of your crew on edge, their guns readied pointedly in every direction.
You were merely keeping protocol, not planning on shooting anything as you trudged carefully through the forest. Even with all that you had learned about Jake, you still had no plan. Any hope you had of going out to find him alone was futile, knowing that Quaritch would notice your absence instantly.
Approaching Site 26, Wainfleet took his place beside your father, joining him as they both stepped into the clearing. You hesitated, yet to brush past the infiltrating brush as the gaps in the leaves gave you a skewed view of the shack, which had clearly been abandoned, any sign of life nonexistent. 
You could hear slight rustling in the trees, the movement calculated and quick. Craning your neck, you looked upward, catching an unmistakable shimmer of blue as you watched the figure of a young man maneuver behind a thicket of green foliage above.
There was no use in hiding, you had already seen him and in his boldness, he brushed the leaves away, staring down at you with his bow already drawn back in his hand, and behind him was a younger girl, the side of her face only visible to you. 
As he continued to look at you, you put your gun down, your figure still as you squinted up at him, his face holding so much familiarity to you that you fell silent.
He was unusually hesitant to kill you, convincing himself that he was only being strategic, but truthfully, he just thought you were pretty, unable to contain a  flush in his face. The younger girl he was with, looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched his odd behavior. He looked hardly older than you, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you knew that the longer they were there, the more danger they were in.
You put your hands up, whispering as you spoke to them in Na’vi, “You both shouldn’t be here. Go back. They’ll kill you if they see you.”
He kept his bowstring taut, conflicted as he faced you, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Why not let them kill my ass then?”
“I’m not your enemy.” You replied simply.
Quaritch looked over, seeing your figure behind the brush, calling you through his telecom device, “You got eyes on something, y/n?”
Placing your fingers on your own device, the young man drew his bow back again upon instinct, “No sir.” You shook your head, “There’s nothing but trees here.”
Giving them both one last glance, you made your way into the clearing, the young man’s eyes following you as you left, glued to you as you made your way to your father.
“Why are you just staring, Lo’ak? You heard her. We should go.” She pulled at him, trying to get him to budge.
“Not yet Tuk. I have to see what they’re up to.” He warned, glancing at her from the side and shushing her.
Carefully, he advanced forward, climbing to a higher branch with Tuk following behind him quietly. From a higher spot, Lo’ak watched as you, Quaritch, and Wainfleet gathered near your father’s AMP suit.
You were towering over it, your father frowning as his eyes were glued to his own battered skeleton staring back at him like an undead taunt. He put his hand on the arrows sticking out of his body, the two of them embedded into his chest mocking him scornfully too.
You looked down at the AMP suit, a relic of your father’s failure and you noticed his dogtags, pulling them off his skeleton. Your father always wore his, but he always had a copy of yours too. Handing them to him, he took them, his fingers gently brushing the metal and reading the engravings before he put them around his neck.
He looked up at you, “Check the old shack. Wainfleet and I are gonna look around some more.” 
You nodded, obeying the order. Pushing away the vines, you hopped in through the broken window. You were too big to stand tall, crouching as your eyes settled on everything, no longer seeing the reality of the wreckage in front of you, but rather the scenes of your memories. 
You felt as if you had traveled in time, back to the best days of your old life as you trailed your hands along the pods and going further toward the west-end you stopped, seeing your old bunk. You had decorated the frame with a few pictures and removing them, you wiped the dust away.
You held them up to the peeking light in the shack as you traced your hands over the pictures. One of them was just of you and Jake flipping off the camera, making you laugh to yourself. The other was your whole family, you squished between Jake and Grace, Norm and Trudy standing behind you, all of you grinning widely, your happiness caught in the stillness of one shot. 
That was the thing about happiness, it could vanish in an instant, the once pristine shack you had always remembered disappearing as you were faced with the reality of what it actually was. You were in a wreckage, your despair sinking into the broken glass that littered the floor. You hugged the pictures to your chest, savoring the memories before putting them in your pocket.
“Roll out, roll out! We got movement!” An urgent shout rang from outside.
Hopping back out, you followed after Wainfleet and the Colonel, both of them charging toward the forest.
Multiple shots were fired as you navigated through the forest floor and above, you saw the two Na’vi that you had seen earlier, frantically running through the branches and dodging bullets. 
Climbing up the tree, you chased after them, hoping to put enough distance between them and the rest of the regiment, “Ardmore was clear about what she wanted. If they know where Sully is, these two are no good to us dead.”
You were pleading on the side of reason and logic, lying through your teeth as you pretended to be on board with a mission that you only saw as immoral insanity. 
Quaritch rattled off commands, “Secure the girl! We only need one of them to draw Sully out. Kill the other one if you have to.”
You were catching up to the both of them, impossibly fast as you navigated through the branches, keeping your balance as you hopped from one to another. The younger one looked behind her, her foot suddenly catching on one of the branches and and sending her plummeting to the ground below with a hard thump.
Watching her fall felt like everything was happening in slow motion, your mind teetering on what to do as you continued to run after the young man, watching as Zdinarsk and Warren took her by the arms, dragging her off toward the shack per your father’s orders.
“In pursuit of the Na’vi male. No need for back up.” You quickly let out in your telecom, sprinting toward the young man as he was about to jump off the branch.
You tackled him, his back landing harshly on the bark as he yelled for his sister, “Tuk!” 
His eyes immediately went to you, enraged as he hissed at you first, maneuvering himself from under you and pushing you into the bark, his hands pinning your arms down.
“I’m trying to save you both.” You retorted, kicking from underneath him, inflicting a sharp pain in his legs that loosened his grip.
“Like hell you are. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He wrestled you down again, but you punched him hard, catching him off guard as he placed his finger to his lips, now bloodied.
“Then you’d be dead and so would she.” You spat, grabbing his arm and securing him onto his back once more, your grip on him strong as he fought you off with all his might. 
You brought your knife to his neck, forceful as you pushed it against his skin, “I’m not your enemy.” His eyes were fearless, challenging you as you stared into his eyes. 
You huffed, lifting your knife from him and striking the bark so close to his ears that you nicked him slightly, blood drawing from where you had caught him.
You put a firm hand on his chest, catching your breath as you calmly talked to him, “I don’t want to fight you, okay?”
He placed his hands on your waist, swiping his leg from underneath yours to press you back into the bark, his eyes narrowed at you, his face smug, “Then what do you want to do? Dance?” 
You scoffed at his arrogance, “I want to help you.” You put a finger on his forehead, your teeth gritted, “You need to get it through your thick skull that if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”
“I need to save my sister.” He was panting, still stubbornly persistent, but in his desperation, reluctantly loosened his aggressive grip on you.
You lifted yourself up too, your face so dangerously close to his as you glared at him. “You have no fear. I see it in your eyes. But that won’t save you or your sister. Even with all that courage, you have no chance against my regiment. Not alone at least.”
Your voice sent goosebumps down his whole body, his cheeks reddening as he tightened his jaw. He scoffed listening to you, his pride too great to acknowledge that truth. You stood up, putting a hand out. He hesitated to take it, and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to pull him up. He blinked at you, the feeling of your hands in his warm and kind, a sudden stark difference to how they felt when you were fighting.
You had a determined expression on your face, your speech hurried as you cautiously looked around you, “I’ll keep your sister safe. You have my word, but I can only think of one person who’ll know how to deal with my regiment.”
He sighed, your hands still intertwined, “Who?”
“Your Olo’eyktan, Jake Sully. My father, Colonel Quaritch, has orders to kill him, and your sister is his best bet at drawing him out.”
The young man’s face paling in shock, his mouth parted in utter disbelief, “Why does your father want to kill mine?”
You withdrew your hand, blinking as your brain could hardly process what he had just said, his reason for feeling so familiar slowly being committed to truth. In your shock, your mouth spewed your thoughts in an almost inaudible whisper, your face paling as you stared at him, “Had I really been dead that long?”
You couldn’t help but stare at him and looking down, you scolded yourself for not noticing his hands before, too encapsulated by that initial familiarity you felt about him. 
He tilted his head, squinting at you, “How do you know him?” 
“Look I-” You began, but your father’s voice in your ear interrupted you, startling you out of your deep thought, “Y/n, what’s your traffic?”
Putting your hands to your telecom you answered, “Returning to the rally point.”
You grabbed your knife that was stuck in the branch frantically, giving the young man one last look, soft and reassuring even amidst your seriousness, “Don’t worry about your sister. You have to go now! Hurry!”
Without another word, you jumped off the branch, your pocket snagging on it and sending the photos you had put in them flying into the air. The young man caught them in his hands, and seeing you, he was taken aback. He had seen your face before, but as he searched his mind, he found nothing to satisfy your mystery. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his head, pocketing the photos as he ran in the opposite direction of the shack, calling his ikran and darting away back to base.
When you had arrived at the shack, Tuk was bound to a nearby tree branch while Fike held her by her hair, ignoring her squirms as she tried to keep her cries silent. 
Quaritch walked over to you with a satisfied grin, patting you on the shoulder, “We got a prisoner thanks to you, but you were gone a while. That savage didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”
“No, sir. I let him go.” You responded simply.
“You what?” Quaritch yelled at you, furious.
“What good would he be dead? Eclipse is almost nearing and we’re in enemy airspace. We don’t have time for a full night-op. If I had let killed him, then who would be the one to tell Jake?” You argued back, your voice poised as you spoke.
“And how can you be so sure they won’t just leave this brat to die?” Wainfleet interjected, the question marking curiosity in everyone.
You glared at Wainfleet, biting your cheek as you hesitated for a moment. You didn’t want to reveal their identities, but with how bloodthirsty they looked, you knew that they were practically begging for any excuse to kill her. 
You sighed, “They’re his children.”
Quaritch’s expression turned sinister, his eyes lowering toward Tuk, whose face was scrunched up in fear, “Is that right? This is Sully’s kid?”
You nodded, your father awed by his own dumb luck as he looked up at the sky, laughing, “It must be my lucky day.”
Looking back at you, he put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m calling for extraction. We take her on board if Sully’s late.”
Calling the general through the telecom, he confirmed the helicopter’s arrival and turning toward the clearing, he called out, “Lyle!” 
Wainfleet, rushed over to him, your father pointing to the suit, “See if you can pull some data off that suit, and y/n, keep an eye on our prisoner.” 
You nodded, walking over to her as your father and Wainfleet disappeared into the clearing once more. 
Fike who was snickering as he watched Tuk squirm stopped once you cleared your throat, “Piss off. I’m sure you’re tired of daycare duty.”
Fike let go willingly, “My arm was getting kind of tired. Thanks.” He replied jokingly. 
He walked over to the others, talking amongst themselves loudly. You crouched beside the girl, who hissed at you, her pain manifesting itself in her eyes.
You remembered her name as you tried to comfort her, “Tuk, your brother is safe. You don’t need to be scared.”
Hearing her hiss, Zdinarsk was about to stomp over, but you stopped her, covering Tuk’s mouth with your hand. She turned around again, slinging her arm around Fike’s shoulders as she continued the conversation.
When she finally looked away, you took your knife out, tampering with the binds on her hands and loosening the seal, “I sent your brother to find your dad. He was once of the Sky People, but now he is Na’vi. Only he can stop them. Do you understand?”
She couldn’t believe what you were doing, her gaze darting from you to her wrists, you continued to talk soothingly, “When the time is right, you’ll be able to get out of those no problem.”
“Is my dad really coming?” She sniffled, her expression begging for you to be telling the truth.
You met her eyes kindly, “Yes. He is. I made sure that he would. And as long as you’re here with me, you’re safe.”
She relaxed, her expression relieved, a smile adorning her face finally, “Thank you for helping me and Lo’ak.” 
You smiled at her warmly, “Ah, so that’s your brother’s name.” She nodded and you couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering your fight on the branches, “I’m y/n.”
“Y/n. That’s pretty. How did you know my name?” Tuk asked innocently.
“I heard Lo’ak call you. Your name is pretty too.” 
She blushed, “Thank you.” 
She looked at her wrists, “How will I know when the time is right?”
Returning your knife to where it was, you put a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll know, Tuk.” You smiled, “Your dad knows how to make an entrance.” 
As you looked at her, you saw more of her parents in her. You had been so focused on the thought of being brought back to life, that you didn’t even bother to notice how long you really had been dead. You felt it first looking at Lo’ak, but it had finally sunk into you. 
It felt surreal, and as you sat on the soft, rich soil, you realized that you had probably died somewhere in the forest, your body a relic of the past just like your father’s was.
Quaritch walked out of the brush with a disgruntled expression, his eyes irradiating with an unkempt rage. When you saw him, you stood up, placing yourself between him and Tuk.
"What happened? Why are you-” You stopped as your father pushed past you, kneeling as he put a knife to Tuk’s throat.
He pulled her head back, seething, “Listen here little girl, the only reason why you’re breathing now is because I wanna see your father’s face when I kill you.”
Tuk froze, petrified as fear overtook her body, so stunned that she couldn’t even utter a whimper. 
“What the hell are you doing? She’s just a child!” You yelled at your father, something you had never done before, the height of your voice making him lift his grip on her. 
Slowly he ascended, his eyes squinted at you in disbelief, “I don’t care if she’s a child. She’s his. Sully’s gonna pay for what he did to us. To our family. Nothing’s over. Not while we’re breathing.”
The hatefulness in his words trapped you as you felt his manic desperation suck the fresh air around you, the world feeling as if it was sinking into abysmal darkness as you couldn’t shield the horror in your eyes.
He took the dogtags you had given him earlier and put them around your neck, “This Na’vi blood’s making you soft. You wear this as a reminder, y/n, a reminder of who you are and where you came from.”
Quaritch stomped off, barking orders to Fike as he left the perimeter, leaving you with those dogtags on your neck, mocking you. You clasped your hands around the dogtags wanting to rip them off your neck and cast them far from you, but you stopped yourself, your shoulders sinking as you sat beside Tuk again.
Your expression matched the darkening sky, the light that cascaded through the trees slowly succumbing to eclipse, and unsure of how to comfort you, Tuk put her hands over yours, your hearts anxious for what was ahead.
~
“Where’s your sister, Lo’ak? Where’s Tuk?” Jake yelled, his tone abrasive as he aggressively took his son by the shoulders, Neytiri behind him, her eyes filled with worry. 
His brother Neteyam went to his side while his other sister Kiri took the other, both of them teeming with worry. 
 Lo’ak brushed them both off as he made eye-contact with his father, the urgency in his voice showing in his hurriedness, “Colonel Quaritch. He took her, but this girl, she’s keeping her safe and she told me to find you.”
Jake squinted at his son, enraged by such nonsense. He raised his voice in anger, “What the hell are you talking about? Quaritch? A-a girl? That’s impossible. Answer the goddamn question, Lo’ak! Where is your sister?”
"Where is Tuk?” Neytiri repeated, the slowness in her voice giving intense warning as she glared at him.
“Tuk is at the shack, but you have to listen to me, dad. They’re all avatars. They were wearing camo and they had guns.”
Jake and Neytiri looked at one another, unwilling to believe such a nightmarish thing. Still, they were sure of one thing. Tuk was gone, and whether they believed what Lo’ak had said, it didn’t matter. They’re daughter’s life was on the line.
“Let’s go get our daughter.” Jake said to his mate, who nodded, calling her ikran, Jake doing the same.
Lo’ak reached the edge of the camp, mounting his ikran and almost darting off before Kiri and Neteyam showed up at his side.
Kiri groaned in annoyance, “What are you doing? You’re gonna get in trouble!”
Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak’s arm, glaring, “Don’t, Lo’ak.”
Lo’ak shoved him off, mounting his ikran, “Just come with me and stop being such a wuss.”
Lo’ak flew off, Neteyam grunting as he followed his brother, cursing at him under his breath.
Eclipse had finally taken over the sky and with it came a steady rainfall, giving Jake and Neytiri an advantage. Neteyam and Lo’ak followed not long after, and in his fury, commanded them to both stay by the ikrans, Neteyam reluctantly obeying, while Lo’ak agreed halfheartedly.
Jake and Neytiri moved in silence, calculating every move with precision. Neytiri took to the trees and Jake covered the ground, his tomahawk firmly ready in his hand. Carefully and silently, Jake disarmed the soldiers guarding the perimeter while Neytiri waited for the opportune moment to strike. 
Everyone else took their positions when dusk fell, the usual calm of the forest becoming eerie, the slight movements of the nature surrounding you making the crew jumpy, their guns at the ready, expectant of any attack. Earlier, when no one was looking, you loosened the binds around her wrists, telling her that when the time was right, she would be able to escape easily.
Tuk kept that in mind, her eyes glued to her wrists as she waited that perfect time. The noises around you had been constant, the rain, the occasional rustling of the leaves, certain animal calls. But, a new sound broke in the wind, making your ears twitch. Tuk heard it loud and clear, looking up at you, and you understood what the sound was. It was a call, a signal that Jake had finally come. 
After the wake of that new sound, the unmistakeable twang of an arrow burst through the thick air, sending Fike backwards and killing him instantly. Bullets rang through the air from another direction, sending the other soldiers flying to the ground. Tuk, who had figured this was the perfect time to set herself free, squeezed her hands through the binds and ran in the opposite direction of the fire, screaming when she ran into someone, but sinking with relief when she realized it was Lo’ak and Neteyam.
Neteyam took Tuk into his arms, holding her as Lo’ak grabbed her by the shoulder, “Where’s the girl, the girl that helped us?” He asked her.
Tuk pointed opposite his direction, “Y/n! She’s over there!”
Lo’ak, without any hesitation ran toward where Tuk had pointed, carefully maneuvering as he approached. 
You and the rest of the soldiers took cover as bullets continued to sweep the forest floor, bullets that you knew could only be coming from Jake. 
Quaritch, who had taken cover behind a log, saw the arrow, his voice sinister as he attempted to draw her out. “Is that you Mrs. Sully?”
She instantly recognized the voice, but she kept a poised anger, despite the ghostly chill she felt down her spine, “I will kill you as many times as I have to, demon.”
Quaritch huffed out cockily, reloading his weapon, “Looks like you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone, but don’t worry Mrs. Sully. Pretty soon, you won’t have a family to protect.”
Looking at Warren and Wainfleet, Quaritch gave his signal, the two of them putting their eyes in their scopes to search for Neytiri as he continued to talk, taunting her with unbearable arrogance.
She was stuck where she was, any movement marking her for death as guns in all directions were targeting her. You used your scope to watch your crew intently from the opposite side. Warren’s eyes were fixed on the trees, and you knew he caught sight of her when he stopped, aiming as he pointed his gun at her. You aimed at Warren ready to pull the trigger, but an arrow came flying through the sky behind you, shooting through Warren’s chest and sending his body instantly to the ground. 
Wainfleet immediately turned toward the arrow’s origin and you followed his line of sight to find Lo’ak behind you. You stepped in front of the line of fire, attempting to stop Wainfleet, but he had already pulled the trigger. The bullet had landed above your clavicle, a seemingly fatal wound as your body dropped, Lo’ak catching you as you fell. 
Wainfleet’s eyes widened, turning his head to the Colonel, who hadn’t seen what had happened, and in his flustered state, Wainfleet backed away slowly,  running to your father’s side.
At that same instant, Quaritch took his shot, gauging where Neytiri was and releasing a detonation of bullets that bursted with deadly fire, the area engulfing in a massive explosion that ruptured the area, pieces of bark flying all throughout the forest like shrapnel. Taking her chance, Neytiri ran, and seeing her movement, Quaritch ordered the crew to follow. Jake followed too, disarming soldiers from where he had taken cover and using the last of his bullets to secure Neytiri’s safety. 
You were lying on the ground, Lo’ak breaking your fall as you both tumbled to the grassy floor, “Shit!” He yelled out once he noticed the blood dripping from the wound. 
Shifting to your side, he put pressure on it, talking to you gently, “Hey! Stay with me, okay?” 
When your mind finally caught up with your body, you let a deep breath in, sitting up abruptly, the boy retracting his hands as your own touched where your wound was, the blood smeared on your fingertips as more poured down your chest. 
Quickly, you ripped pieces of your shirt as he watched, eyes blinking in confusion as his face flushed, “What are you doing?”
You almost laughed, a smirk on your face, “Relax, I’m not getting naked.” 
Looking around, you took your knife out, slicing off a piece of the bark from a nearby tree, pressing the blade into its flesh as it seeped out sap. You wiped the sap on your wound, feeling the slight sting as Lo’ak watching in confused awe.
Lo’ak let out another question, “Where did you learn how to-”
“I had a great teacher.” You replied, “Yanna bark sap has great healing properties.” 
You gave him the pieces of cloth that you tore, “Just wrap the pieces around.”
He took the cloth from you, covering the wound, “Wrap it tightly.” You ordered.
“Ow!” You yelped as he pulled the cloth taut.
“You said to do it tightly.” He mumbled, continuing to wrap your wound. 
You took his face in your other hand, brushing his lip with your finger, the bottom of it cracked and the blood crusted from when you punched him, “Sorry about that.” 
He could feel his heart beat faster, your fingers still on his lips as he placed his gaze on you. The way he bore his eyes into you made you feel shy, and having never been looked at like that before, you pulled your hand away, but he grabbed it, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 
Blues, greens, and purples illuminating your shimmering skin as the plants around regained their bioluminescence. Anyone from the outside looking in would have thought you two were sharing affections, the plants livening around you, sanctifying the air you shared, that small, fleeting moment between the two of you peaceful amidst what had just happened. You cast your eyes away from him quickly though, unable to let yourself slip too deep into that peace, the horrible truth of reality striking at it like vipers.
Your ears twitched, voices coming through your telecom, immediately you turned around, craning your neck as you saw the bright, white lights of the extraction helicopter in the distance, snuffing out the glow of the plants. You could hear the general’s urgency as everyone was ordered to return to the helicopter.
“Get down. They might shoot if they see you.” You pulled him into the nearby brush, the tall, hanging leaves giving cover for you and Lo’ak.
As the helicopter neared and neared, its rotors whirred loudly, silencing the rest of the noises and filling your ears. Through the leaves, you saw the helicopter descend just above the tree line, multiple ropes dropping to the ground for extraction. Immediately, Quaritch stopped his crusade, falling back to the rally point, everyone else following after him. Grabbing onto the rope, he counted who he was with, but let go when he realized you weren’t there. 
“Y/n? Do you read me? Get back to the rally point.” He commanded in his telecom, his voice desperate.
You were about to put your hands on your telecom but you stopped, your fingers hovering over the buttons. You didn’t expect to hesitate. From the moment you woke up, you felt scorned by the presence of your father. But as you heard his voice calling to you so desperately, what was left of that old you, who loved him so much, found its hold on your heart somehow. 
“Y/n? Do you hear me? Get back to the rally point, now!” He yelled out. You could see him in front of you, frantically looking around.
General Ardmore was barking orders too, emotionless, “If she doesn’t come up Colonel. We’ll have to leave and come back tomorrow.”
Despite the whirring of the helicopter, your father’s voice was all you could hear in your head as he continued to scream out your name, the voice that taught you your every move and molded your every thought.
Still, you did nothing, eyes glued to your father in the distance, uncharacteristically panicky as he turned to the rest of his regiment, throwing his hands up, “Where’s my little girl?”
Lo’ak put a hand on your arm, his voice low, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go back. That guy over there shot you, then left you.”
You looked at him, feeling the guilt within you rise, “Am I not so different from him? From all of them? I don’t belong here on Pandora and I don’t deserve to. If I stay here, I’d still be endangering you all.”
He kept his eyes planted on you, the sadness in your voice reinforcing him to be strong, “And if you go back, then what will happen to you? Will you just obey orders and watch your dad kill mine?” You looked at Lo’ak, your expression still conflicted and too aghast by his boldness to offer any protest. Yet, Lo’ak knew he got through to you, your expression softening as you let him lower your hands gently to the grass. 
“Look, you chose to save me and my sister when you could have killed us.” He lifted his hand up, his palm grazing it as he took the earpiece out of your ear, his fingers traveling to your neck as he unclipped your telecom.
You froze, your senses wholly attuned to him as your mind could only focus on his voice, calm and slow as he spoke to you, “You told me yourself. You’re not the enemy.” He smirked at you, pressing a finger into your forehead, “Get that through your thick skull, won’t you?” 
You couldn’t help a light laugh as your lips upturned, “I got through yours, so it’s only fair right?”
About to lift your gaze back on the helicopter, you stopped, rolling onto your back instead, relinquishing the ties of who you no longer wanted to be, unwilling even to grant them your eyes as they left you. You felt as if the tether to your father was being severed as the helicopter flew away, its whirring becoming distant and distant until finally, the tranquility of the forest returned as the bioluminescence reawakened around you. The feel of the grass and the air immersed you into that bliss, and no longer focused on the anger and hurt, you only wondered how you endured it for so long, how that tether was able to mark trauma into your skin and bones.
Lo’ak, although confused by your actions held no qualms about joining you, lying down, his eyes only on you the whole time. You turned your head slightly to look at him, and you felt that peace from before, no longer skewed but welcomed by you as you smiled at him, your gratefulness emanating from it. 
Under your gaze, Lo’ak felt himself get shy, getting up quickly to hide the blush that would surely make itself known among the illumination of the flora around you. 
“W-we should uh...look for my dad.” In his awkwardness, he was seemingly unsure, his tone expelling his words like a question.
Lo’ak put a hand out and you took it, “Yeah, Jake and I have a lot to catch up on.”
Once you stood up, you heard bellowing rustles in the distance, and immediately you took your defensive position, taking your knife out. Lo’ak also had his knife out, his back against yours as you both searched your perimeter. The rustling became footsteps, the sound approaching closer and closer until you saw a flash of blue rushing toward you, the lifting of a tomahawk making you dodge immediately.
“Jake I-!” He swung again, your knife barely blocking the weight of his tomahawk as you staggered backward.
“Dad! Stop!” Lo’ak yelled out, and hearing the rest of his family come, Neytiri already drawing her bow, he ran to her, pleading for her to put it down. 
You ducked again as Jake continued to swing, backing away as you put your hands up, “Jake! It’s me! Y/n!” You yelled.
The adrenaline pumping in his veins was too prominent, not allowing him to recognize you as he continued to swing at you, each one more forceful than the last. Neteyam had also drawn his bow, but Tuk clung to his arms, disrupting his attempt at shooting you.
You fought back vigorously and when you had finally knocked the tomahawk out of his hands, you let go of your grip on him, kneeling on the dirt with your hands up as you spoke again, out of breath, “Jake. It’s me, y/n. You have to believe me.”
Blinking, he could finally hear you, your unmistakeable voice warping Jake’s mind, unwilling to accept the possibility, your appearance betraying the very memory of you, splicing who he remembered you to be from the mystery of who was kneeling in front of him.
He put a knife to your neck, his eyes pained as he tried to ignore the memories coming back to him in response to your voice, “You’re not! Y/n’s dead. She’s dead, okay? So, who are you?”
What proof did you have? Even if you showed him those photos, they wouldn’t be enough. All you had were your memories, and as you looked at Jake, so happy to see him again, you reached into your past in hopes that he would remember too.
“You know me, Jake Sully, and you know my father. He’ll stop at nothing to kill you and your family.” Jake gritted his teeth, his knife dipping into your neck more. You became teary-eyed as you continued to speak, but you were fierce in your tone, “Do you remember what I told you before the bulldozers came?” You asked.
“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.” You looked over at his family, their stares burning into you, “You have a family now, Jake. Let me help you protect them from my father.”
Jake dropped his knife, his mouth parting, the words he had lived by in all the time you were gone breathing life back into you, his eyes no longer looking, but Seeing. Every doubt he had in his mind disappeared into the night air as he said your name, the breath he expelled so soft in the wake of what he felt was another reality. You were alive, and when he had finally accepted that fact, he lifted you up from the ground, pulling you in for a hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before.” He said softly, “Blue never really was your color.”
You buried your face in his shoulder as you hugged him back, “Yeah well, it was always yours.” 
You felt tears brim in your eyes as you lifted your head up and you could feel your whole body relax for the first time since you woke up. In the midst of your comfortable silence you suddenly heard him sniffle. You became moon-eyed, pulling back to see that he had tears falling from his eyes too.
You smiled at him, your old joking self returning as you laughed, “I see fatherhood’s turned you into a sap.” You put your hands up to his forehead, “And look at all the wrinkles on your forehead. You’re ancient.”
Scoffing, Jake pushed your hand away, tousling your hair, “You come back from the dead, and you’re still a little shit.”
“Whatever old man. I know you missed me.” You snarkily replied, weakly punching him in the arm.
He scoffed at you, winding his arm to punch you back when his face dropped, noticing your bound wound, “What happened? Did I shoot you?”
Lo’ak piped in, “It was one of the other soldiers. He was trying to kill me, but she took the bullet instead.”
He looked between you and Lo’ak. If there was still any doubt in his mind about who you were, it was easily erased. What you had done for his son directly mirrored what you had done for him all those years ago, every detail so ingrained in him that goosebumps adorned his body as he thought of it. Neytiri, who took her place beside Jake softened her eyes, having felt grateful to you for saving Jake’s life before, and once again for saving her son.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I’ve already put yanna bark on it. It’ll be better in no time.” You put your hands up, attempting to ease Jake.
He glared at you, “We’re going.” Jake turned to his eldest son, “Neteyam, take y/n back to camp.”
“No! I’ll take her back.” Lo’ak instantly protested, earning a knowing look from Neteyam, “It’s the least I can do after she took the bullet for me.”
“Fine Lo’ak,” His eyes were ensnared with warning, “You fly straight and slow, alright? Don’t be reckless in the air.”
“Yes sir.” Lo’ak answered, although he hardly meant it. 
Everyone called their ikrans, all of them coming in like a swarm and gracefully descending to the forest floor. Jake flew off first, Neytiri, who was holding Tuk, followed after, then Neteyam ascended as well.
Making sure you were secure before taking off, Lo’ak looked over his shoulder at you, “Have you ever been on an ikran before?”
“Never.” You said, suddenly excited, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly, your chest hugging his back, “I don’t care what Jake says, I don’t want to go slow.”
Lo’ak couldn’t control himself as a satisfied grin took over his lips, “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to.”
The minute he kicked off, you felt the exhilaration of being in the air hit you as you flew through the mist of the night, Lo’ak taking extra detours around the mountain, commanding the wind as you felt it underneath you. You had merely felt free before, but as you embraced the touch of the swirling air, infinite and timeless in its beauty, you knew you really were. 
The day had felt excruciatingly long, and you felt so burdened by just being alive, the guilt, the hurt, and the pain encompassing you. But, being in the air with Lo’ak made those burdens feel like mere trivialities, and while you knew in the back of your mind that you would have to face them again, you let yourself feel that freedom you always longed to have and in its simplest form, you understood what it was you were really feeling.
You were happy.
But the thing about happiness is that it can vanish in an instant.
~
Your father was still out there, and having already been motivated to complete this mission by his own disposition, a new rage had sunk into his soul, catalyzing the torment he so desperately had to inflict.
Wainfleet finally admitted to your father what had happened to you, but in his deceitful cowardice, he left out one large truth.
“What did you say Lyle?” Quaritch asked impatiently.
“Sully. He shot her. She’s dead, Colonel.”
Author’s Note:
My lovers, 
LYLE WAINFLEET IS A BITCHHH ISN’T HE??? 
let me know how you felt about chapter 1!! i’d love to hear your thoughts :)
endless thanks for all of you who have waited and continue to wait for the next parts! 
for all those that wanted to be tagged for this next part, i’ve listed you all below! thank you so much!!
love, 
nana <3
~
taglist [tumblr wouldn’t let me tag some of the blogs, but i didn’t want to leave anyone out!] :
@fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30  @itsemy01 @23victoria @soobinsrose  @starjane312 @valentineoxox @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts@paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police  @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa  @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me  @strawberryclouds22@tsunchani @sully-stick-together @scarletrosesposts @local-mr-frog @pirana10 @usernumder67 @im-kai-scotty  @mae-is-crazy @ghoulbli @devil-on-acid  @neteyamoa @iamparou @nightfalldia  @a-queen-blr  @aeclark041-blog1@justpassinbxx @mochi-yu @persondoingstuff @melatonindaydreamz @ducks118 @macncheese69420666  @rotten-toenails  @rikidaily  @extreamlycutecuban @iizx7y @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @lovekeeho  @spicycloudsalad @perfectprofessorloverapricot   @kind45  @skyri-revia22@blueblushedflwr  @neteyamslovr  @coldlamaspersonspy @jayinthecloset @lunamochii @littlethingsinlife @ok-boke @donaldsmac @slut4sluttybooks @zatarias-pandora  @bol0-de-morang0  @dakotali  @bajadotcom  @bitchyzombienacho @siriusblackwh0re @wadiyatalkinabeetmate @eggyongies @galaxyfruits @kiricomics @fireflystoughts  @reallysparklychaos @bwormie​ @glitter-in-my-heroin @kirikuki @katkat1918 @0-0h-0 @imthefunniestpersonalive @my-name-duh @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @sometimesminsan @pearlrosegardener @aestheticcraze @animetrash12 @sbfandom @hrlzy @vhobuu @urforevermore @larkkyoris @usersjs-world @vampsclassiffied @razor-blayde @doromoni @lizzyloo22 @jimfiqs @hunylew @dreamergirljen
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carolinemoon · 21 days
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George's new post made me realize that there are people with very little criteria, people who are supposedly knowledgeable about this universe who were defending the adaptation tooth and nail and insulting those who argued that the season was bad and who now drastically changed their opinion because George himself very politely said that it's crap and will get worse, seriously didn't people see for themselves that the series is awful and that it took unnecessary liberties?
How many times have I read that this is the true version of the facts when they don't respect something as basic as the ages of the characters and their declared enmities. Most of the characters are the opposite of what George wrote, incoherent caricatures that don't even act like normal human beings.
The public has to start being more demanding with the content they consume, otherwise they'll just sell us crap as if it were gold, which is what's happening with this series. Having to see people say that it's the best thing they've seen in years when it's not even coherent with itself in the transition from one chapter to the next is painful.
People who still expect faithful adaptations of the original material written by George and who are looking forward to The Conquest should assume that what they'll see will be a bad fanfic, where Aegon is an evil creature that stands between the love of Rhaenys and Visenya, where of course Rhaenys hates him and is forced to marry him and where Aenys of course is not his son. One thing is to have faith in humanity and another is to be naive.
That said, I hope George continues to express his opinion, he has every right to do so, and even more so if his advice and recommendations are not listened to and they have the arrogance to think that their ideas are better when he is the author and the one who has a career as a writer. He's been polite and restrained, he hasn't gone into detail about the massacre of characters like Rhaenyra (I can't stand her she is just a selfish hedonist and she's a character I love in the book), Alicent (she's a caricature of true Alicent, flat and unambitious who just wants to be with her great love aka ShowRhaenyra) and Daemon (who's supposedly his favorite and is a pathetic and ridiculous character in the series,without a single redeeming quality). Aside from overlooking other butterfly effects that he doesn't specify, Ryan's excuse for not hiring young children is so ridiculous and contradictory when you remember that Aegon and Viserys were 7-9 years old in the book and not 2-4 like in the series (he used the excuse that it's very difficult to work with children of such a young age to eliminate Maelor) that you realize that this guy thinks he's very smart and that anyone will accept his reasons as logical and coherent.
Aegon will never ride his dragon, he will never feel guilty for not being able to take Viserys with him nor will he start to get depressed about it, Aegon will not suffer from the constant memory of his brother and will not instantly recognize him when they meet again 5 years later and the same will happen with Viserys who will not even remember who he is, much less his family. In short, many toxic butterflies are coming and if you thought that season two was bad (and it was and a lot) what is coming is a sequel to what was already very bad.
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makeyoumine69 · 3 months
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I Like It Rough
— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!OC (Angel💋)
— SUNOPSYS: "There is something special about this girl. Something I have always wanted to unravel."
— CONTAINS: Smut, Patrick's POV, toxic relationship, aggressive foreplay, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, degradation kink, praise kink and maybe something more :D
— A/N: This is for my beloved @mothhmannn! It was such a pleasure for me to write about your OC! 💕
— SONG REC: Lady Gaga — I Like It Rough
— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓
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The roar of the city was barely audible in the opulent interior of the limousine, and I could care less about the angry expression of the girl sitting next to me. Angel, my beloved, but a spoiled brat. Maybe it was not her fault at all, since I was the one who allowed her to feel special. As if she was not just one of the hookers I used to sleep with.
"Darling," I began, placing my warm palm on her knee. "I know things can be complicated between us, but please don't sit there with that face. It doesn't suit you at all."
Angel, sighing in frustration, just crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from me. 
"Oh, come on, baby, don't be like that," I urged in a stern voice before grabbing her wrist, causing the girl to whimper in pain. "Look at this beautiful bracelet. Do you think you will ever be able to acquire such luxury without me?"
This time, the blonde didn't dare ignore me and locked her big, sad eyes with mine. "Fuck you, Bateman," she hissed through her white teeth. "If you really think you're the only Wall Street man I sleep with, you're delusional and sick," she spat in my face, forcing the blood in my veins to boil, but I didn't allow myself to hurt her. Not yet. "And pathetic."
"Say it again." 
Angel trembled under my grip. I could feel the turmoil inside her, reflected in the way she stared at me, desperate and broken. "You..." she almost whispered, glancing down at the gleaming jewelry around her thin wrist, then raising her eyes to my lips. 
"...are so unbearable."
"Oh, I know, little one," I bridged the distance, snuggling into her like a snake in one swift motion, finding that sweet spot on her delicate neck. "And you love it, don't you? You've always loved that about me."
Whereupon, I kissed her hard, letting go of her wrist only to put her arms on my shoulders. Angel didn't respond to my initiative at first, but then, with a muffled moan, she got on top of me, letting me grope her great ass and pull up the hem of her dress.
"Ah, Patrick," she gasped into my ear as I pressed her harder against my groin, making her feel how much I wanted her. Angel squirmed on my lap before she kissed me again, plunging her wet tongue into my mouth, which I gladly sucked without shame. "Mmhm, fuck!"
With a cheeky grin, I relished the way Angel was grinding on me like a fucking bitch in heat. "That's it, sweetheart," I crooned in a husky voice, my cock straining against the confines of my Valentino pants. "You just need a firm hand."
At my words, I noticed that Angel's humping became less and less vigorous until she stopped moving at all. "Tell me," the obvious pain in her voice. "Tell me what happened last night was just an accident."
The lewd memories came to my mind faster than I could actually think about Angel's words. Closing my eyes, I indulged in the obscene image my brain produced: me lying on the bed with three beautiful girls, Angel being one of them. While two of them were busy with my cock, I sat Angel on my face and made her buck her hips towards me as I stuck out my tongue for her to use.
"Patrick!" A stubborn female voice pulled him out of the tantalizing haze. "Why did you do this to me?"
"Did what?" I asked, assuming she meant the way I slapped her face several times until her lower lip began to bleed. "I thought you loved pain, my fallen Angel."
The girl scoffed as I grinned. "Why did you treat other chicks better than me?"
Was she really jealous? Such an idea made my smirk widen and I couldn't help but squeeze her cheeks, forcing her to claw at my large palm. "How many times do I have to say it?" I whispered against her swollen lips. "No matter how many girls I have, you will always be special to me."
That was only half true, or at least I wanted to believe it, because Angel was just a hooker. But a very hot one. At some point I even wanted to tell her that I didn't want her to sleep with anyone else but me. I wanted to, but something inside me stopped me every time I opened my mouth. Angel kept bubbling something in my ear, but my own thoughts were louder.
As the limousine pulled up to a not-too-fancy looking building in Lower Manhattan, we both realized that this was a breaking point, but this time I let her decide if she wanted to be alone tonight or have my company. The blonde carefully got up from my lap and took a moment to fix her slightly disheveled hair, then she adjusted the hem of her short dress and looked at me with hope. But I didn't understand what she wanted.
"See you next week, I guess," I mumbled, pulling out a thick stack of $100 bills. "Buy yourself some new lingerie for the one I ripped off."
Perplexed, Angel took the money but she didn't move, so I opened the door for her, implying that no one was forcing her to stay. A cold breeze blew into my face as I did so, but the girl just clutched the bills in her hands, on the verge of tears—I could smell her desperation in the air.
"I hate you, Bateman," Angel hissed, her eyes devoid of emotion, shimmering like broken glass. "You…you just don't understand."
Annoyed, I looked at her indifferently, then at the pile of bills. "I think I pay you enough. You should be grateful, you know?"
The moment I heard her muffled sob, I knew it was over, so when she grabbed my hand and forced me to follow her, I was not surprised. Not even a little. Everything was going according to my plan, as usual.
In a few minutes we were in Angel's small apartment. Overwhelmed by the consuming last, I didn't pay attention to the surroundings, I only cared about the place I was going to fuck her while I was holding the girl in my strong arms and she was kissing me if I was about to vanish.
"Fuck, you're gonna stain my suit," I grumbled as she wrapped her legs around my waist, her wet panties rubbing against my expensive suit. "You're such a dirty little whore. My little whore."
"Patrick," Angel whimpered as I bent her over the back of the couch I saw in the living room. Being too impatient, I couldn't wait any longer and my hands were already undoing my belt with practiced ease. "Put on a condom-arhhh!"
Her loud moan echoed through the small room as I slammed into her supple body without any preparation, as I was sure she didn't need it, since she was soaking wet. 
So fucking needy for me. 
"Just like that," I purred with my eyes closed, reveling in the blissful sensation of her warmth enveloping my thick dick. "God, you're so fucking perfect for me, doll."
Blushing, Angel sobbed, but she didn't let a single tear slip down her beautiful but sad face. Even when I yanked her hair, fucking her really hard and forcing her to look at me. Her bright eyes stared at me without any judgment, all I could see was a pure, raw desire that I so eagerly wanted to fulfill.
"Spread your legs wider," my command was obeyed almost instantly. "Good girl," I snaked my fingers between Angel's thighs to tease her blushing clit before pulling down her lace panties and removing them completely. With a guttural growl, I rolled my hips against hers, hitting the most sensitive spot inside her pussy and indulging in the way she screamed for me. "I'm... I'm close, babe."
Arching her elegant back, Angel opened her mouth so invitingly that I couldn't stop myself from sliding a finger inside. "Mhmm," she moaned around my digit as I refocused my attention on her swollen little bud, rubbing it in sync with my thrusts, I could feel her inner channel contracting around me, about to milk me until I was dry. "Pat-Patrick..."
Panting, I pulled my digit out of her warm mouth to wrap both hands around her slender neck, ramming into her with all my might, her small form shuddering with each stroke. Angel was the first to fall apart, she could barely stand on her feet, clinging desperately to the couch, shaking as if from the electric shock. 
This girl. She was perfect. At that moment, she was mine, completely mine. And if I ever found the courage to tell her I wanted her forever, I would probably be free of the obsessive thoughts that had haunted me since I met her. 
My little fallen Angel. 
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mrwinterr · 5 months
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The Nerve
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Pairing(s): former!Steve Harrington x Female Reader; eventual!Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Summary: The nerves of some people. 
Warnings: Cliché af. Toxic behavior. When they go low, I go lower. Revenge. Not a girls’ girl here bc once you fuck around w/ another girl’s man it’s “yes, and?” from there. Implied smut. Language. We’re probably not gonna like Steve (or even the reader for a bit) here. 
Disclaimer: Typical !former and !eventual pairing. Some time hopping. None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up. 
Pre A/N: This is embarrassing. I was in my villain era. I was certainly in the business of misery. I was angry (still am sometimes), so I wrote this. We all cope differently.
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The nerve. 
She had the nerve to steal your boyfriend. 
It had been a few weeks since Steve broke up with you, only to start dating a girl you had harbored no ill will toward until that night. He even had the guts to reveal who she was and how long he had been losing interest in you. You weren’t going to lie, it hurt – a lot. Discovering his real need for “space” during the last two months of your relationship was painful to realize because in that time, while you were being understanding, he was finding a way to end things with you.
Looking back, you couldn’t help but dissect the memory. It was an ordinary day. School was let out for the weekend, and you were spending it with Steve, a cozy night in without interruptions since he was often left alone at home. The two of you lay on the couch, cuddled up, bodies parallel, his arms around you, the room dimly lit by the TV screen. 
“I have something I wanna talk to you about…and it’s been on my mind for a while,” Steve says, loosening his grip and pausing the movie that was mindlessly playing midway. 
“Okay,” you reply, pushing yourself up from the couch to make space for him to sit up. He shifted, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the carpeted floor, settling into a seated position and scooting aside to allow you room to sit back down next to him.  
The atmosphere shifted noticeably, and it made you nervous. The way he ran his hands through his hair and avoided meeting your gaze – it all felt ominous, and you couldn’t prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 
“I met someone,” he revealed. 
It wasn’t the news you expected, and you could feel your heart sink into your stomach as you absorbed his words.
“Oh,” is all you manage to say, now turning your gaze to the ground too, unable to look at him. 
A whirlwind of emotions swept through you – hurt, anger, brokenness, betrayal. The signs had been there. Why hadn’t you seen them? He had been growing distant – more withdrawn, fewer “good mornings” and “good nights”, less calls, more canceled dates. You had been looking forward to tonight, thinking he was just preoccupied with work or his upcoming graduation, believing whatever he needed space for was resolved. Turns out, he needed space from you. 
You had so many questions, even though you weren’t sure why you needed the answers. In that moment, you wanted to know what you had done to make him lose interest in you. You had thought the relationship was salvageable. 
What? He was breaking up with you. 
When? He’d been feeling like this for almost two months. 
Where? At work.  
Who? The other girl he worked with, also attends Hawkins High, but she's a year above you, therefore had more classes and events with him. 
How? It just happened. 
Yeah, that last one was a classic, but not as much as him telling you that you did nothing wrong and that you both could stay friends. Bullshit. With Steve, would come her, and you couldn’t believe the nerve of her to pursue another girl’s boyfriend. You’d seen her while visiting Steve at his job, but you hadn’t felt threatened by her. The hurting phase was brutal, but now all you could feel for her was anger – after all, who didn’t know that you were dating Steve Harrington? 
She had the nerve to act all innocent.
The school hallways were not pleasant for you. A few days after the break up, rumors circulated that Steve left you for someone else, though apparently their relationship hadn’t been made public yet, sparking widespread gossip. 
How would you have known that though? His business wasn’t yours anymore. In fact, you’d made a deliberate effort to distance yourself from them because the breakup was still fresh. Fuck trying to be friends. This time you were the one that needed the space. The last thing you wanted was to think about them together. 
Steve had the audacity to point the finger at you because you were supposedly the only one aware of the relationship. Even when you tried to explain, he left you hanging. The disbelief on his face hurt to witness. He didn’t believe you. 
“How do they know about us?” Steve demanded as he approached you at your locker, hands on his hips in typical, upset Steve fashion. No hey, hi or hello. He just went right in. 
“I don’t know,” you scoffed, continuing to unload your textbooks from your backpack.
“Well, you’re the only one who knows,” he persisted, leaning in closer, determined to get an answer. “And your name is going around.” 
“Look, Steve,” you finally turned to face him, your tone sharp, catching him off guard. “Your new relationship isn’t my concern.” This is a side of you Steve isn’t used to. “Why would I go around telling everyone that you left me for her? In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever given you a reason to think I’d do something like this?” 
You could see him reconsidering his accusation. The questions seemed to stump him, as if he knew the rumors were absurd and gossip wasn’t something you partook in. 
“Why don’t you go talk to your girlfriend and figure it out?” you suggested, turning back to your locker, not in the mood to continue the conversation. 
All Steve did was stare at you before shaking his head then going into a tangent of how some of the rumors were negatively affecting her when they weren’t true and how she shouldn’t have to endure them or receive any of its backlash…as if you did. But when he started saying something along the lines of how she wouldn’t do that because she told him she didn’t, you knew this was all a wasted effort on your end because he had already made up his mind. He believed her. 
Did he truly think you cared that much about them? Did he really think you'd stoop so low as to announce his new relationship? Did he ever really know you? 
She had the nerve to lie. 
Steve apologized to you when he discovered it was actually his new girlfriend that spread the news. He recognized his rash behavior and conceded that he should’ve believed you. Why would you waste energy on them? They weren’t worth your time anymore. 
“Hey,” a voice calls from behind, and you turn to see Steve standing there, looking contrite. Unlike before, you receive a greeting.
“Hey,” you reply, briefly acknowledging him before returning to organizing your locker, now cluttered by your chaotic friend’s belongings - stashing the shit that no one would suspect the good girl to possess. It didn’t bother you much, except for the occasional stench it left behind. 
“You were right,” Steve admits, hands in his front pockets and moving to the side to look at you. Pausing your task, you wait for him to continue. “She was the one going around telling everyone that I left you…for her.” Boy, that was awkward and lowkey stung. It hadn’t even been that long and he didn’t fail to remind you how you all got here. 
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he continues, visibly ashamed, “I should’ve known better than to believe that.” His apology didn’t really move you. The damage had already been done. You were branded as the ‘psycho ex’ and all Steve had to do was trust you from the start. 
She had the nerve to act like a girls’ girl. 
She never directly apologized, but she had the nerve to claim that she harbored “no hard feelings” toward you. Hard feelings? Why? Because you’re the ex? Was she fucking stupid? How did she expect the girl whose boyfriend she stole to feel? Everything that came out of her mouth infuriated you.  
It was no ordinary day – it was your birthday, and your friend had organized a night out to celebrate. You never liked to make a spectacle of your birthday, but it was also a good reason to go out, distract yourself, and avoid dwelling on unwanted thoughts. 
“You’re lying,” your friend responds, baffled by what you just told him, “she really said that?” 
“She fucking did!” you exclaim, still grappling with her impeccable timing. She wouldn’t know it was your birthday or would she care. 
“Jesus. Of all the days…” he says with a low whistle before attempting to lift your spirits, “But, hey, we’re not gonna let her ruin your birthday!”
“I know, and I won’t!” Your voice wavers as you try to convince yourself this wouldn’t affect you. You were determined to not cry today, but the truth was, it still hurts. Her little stunt reopened a wound that was almost healed.  
“He’s such a fool,” he remarks, followed by a brief silence. You were preoccupied with regaining your composure, fighting back tears, unable to respond. “He didn’t know what he already had in front of him. Lucky son of a bitch,” he added, and you’re not sure if he was speaking to himself or he meant to say that outloud, but you heard him nonetheless. 
“Stop,” you reply, turning your away from him. You’re not gonna cry. “I know what you’re trying to do, Eddie.”  
“What am I trying to do?” He asks adjusting to move to your line of vision, but you keep your focus averted.
“Hype me up, make me feel better…I don't know,” you answer, finally meeting his gaze, the tears now freely falling. 
He understood how hard you were on yourself, replaying what could’ve been avoided. Your relationship with Steve wasn’t something you anticipated. Steve pursued you, and initially, you were fine with a casual fling, but he insisted on something more serious. You had doubts about whether he was the right person, but what if he was? It’s a reminder that life isn’t planned; it’s lived.
Eddie’s support during your breakup was invaluable. He watched you cry a lot – at home, at his trailer, at school, at work. He watched you criticize yourself for the breakup. He watched the light go out and he was determined to reignite it. He simply wanted his friend back. 
“Sweetheart, I promise you,” he assures, hand over his heart, “everything I’ve said is sincere,” accompanied by that charming, stupid trademark Eddie grin. He was so endearing. 
“Well,” you begin, but he’s got you. He had a knack for flipping the script, leaving you wondering why you were arguing in the first place. 
Despite your curiosity about what attracted Steve to someone else and away from you, you had to accept that you probably wouldn’t ever know. 
If there was one thing you knew about Steve, it was that when he falls, he falls fast. With that realization, it sparked a wicked plan in your mind. If you could bag him once, you could probably do it again. 
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The nerve. 
You had the nerve to lie. 
The only person you had confided in about your breakup with Steve was Eddie, and you had the right to do so. You needed a friend. You also knew he had no interest in high school gossip, so it couldn’t have been him that told the whole school. You trusted him. 
People liked to talk and they didn’t hold back. Although the lies bothered you, you had a strong support system in Eddie and his friends. If any group could shrug off that nonsense, it was the Hellfire Club.
“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?” Steve asked, continuing to badger you, even suggesting Eddie as the culprit. You knew Steve well enough that he couldn’t take gossip about him for this long. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and not all of the rumors were in his favor. 
“Eddie?” You asked, confused but also guilty because you had done just that. 
“Yeah, I know how much time you’ve been spending with him lately.” 
“Why is that any of your business?” You countered, a bit snappy.  
“Because,” Steve began, grasping for an excuse, “people talk.”
“And you really think Eddie would? He doesn’t care about shit like this or you-”
“Please,” he interrupts with an eye roll, in the annoying way Steve always did. 
“You don’t know him,” you defended your friend, “so get off your high horse and go talk to your girlfriend about your problem,” leaving him questioning everything again.  
You had the nerve to act all innocent. 
The birthday incident, as you tried your best to keep thoughts of Steve at bay, she unexpectedly approached you, alone, feigning sweetness and innocence. You listened as she spun her lies – lies about overhearing people gossip about her, Steve, and you; lies about rumors allegedly started by you; lies about having “no hard feelings” toward you. It was all fabrication.  
Politely, you attempted to have her understand your side of the story, clarifying that you had not spread any rumors and had discussed the situation with Steve, as civil as that could’ve been, and ultimately, how she should address the matter directly with him. What were you now? A couples counselor? You didn’t have time for this or them.
You weren’t going to start lying to yourself now, but it angered you. All you saw was red. So, you gave it right back, feigning innocence yourself, doubling down on it, subtly planting a seed of doubt in her mind. 
“Watch out for him,” you said sincerely, your warning devoid of malice. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked genuinely curious. God she was fucking stupid. Did she think she would walk out of this situation without a scratch? She had just proven she was not a girl’s girl for actively pursuing your boyfriend while he was with you. The world is a jungle, and it was every woman for herself now. 
“Nothing,” you shrugged, maintaining composure, “...just a girl looking out for another girl,” you added, offering her an innocent, warm smile. 
“Okay,” she replied, sounding confused and a bit shaky. You could sense her discomfort, and she deserved to feel uneasy. 
Ultimately, you weren’t lying. Yes, she should watch out for Steve – what made her think he wouldn’t treat her the same way he did to you? However, if you were in her shoes, you’d watch out for yourself. 
You had the nerve to not act like a girl’s girl too. 
The sudden breakup with Steve left some unresolved feelings, but he was now with her, not you, yet that didn’t stop the urge to act on them. Steve was weak and you realized that soon enough. 
With your head turned to the side, you observed him, listening to his ragged breathing, how his lips parted, emitting small puffs of air, his chest rising and falling, the sweat that dripped from the top of his forehead, and eyes closed in post-bliss. Your gaze traces the freckles that speckled his skin as you studied his profile, wrestling with the questions swirling your mind.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Why fight for him?
He didn’t respond immediately, but didn’t linger too long before replying, “Not really.” 
“We’re gonna have to,” you said and it sounded almost pathetic. Why were you trying to hold onto him? 
“I…I think we shouldn’t talk for a while,” and when he said that, you knew that actually meant this was done. He was done with you. Why did you want to change his mind?
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew it had to end eventually. There was no intention or hope of remaining friends. 
That night, you went home feeling hurt, broken, angry, and disgusted. You knew what you did was wrong, a sad attempt on your part. He probably wanted that reaction from you. You were more than willing to feed his male ego. What guy didn’t enjoy the idea of two girls vying for him? If it was easy for her and it was easy for you, it would be easy for another. What made him so special?
You had the nerve to try to steal her boyfriend.
It was a toxic situation. You found yourself doing exactly what she had done to you. What did that accomplish? Bragging rights and a fleeting sense of revenge, perhaps, but it didn’t bring you and Steve back together. It only highlighted how destructive you both could be. You sought revenge at the expense of homewrecking a relationship. You were no better, yet in a twisted way, you didn’t care. You wanted them to feel the same pain you did, even though deep down, you knew Steve was capable of sabotaging his own relationships. 
You told Eddie of the misdeed, feeling ashamed. He wasn’t upset with you. He understood that you would follow your own path no matter what. He didn’t have the right to control you. Both of you recognized that this would only lead to your own suffering. Unfortunately, you had to learn this lesson the hard way. 
“I know you’re upset and that’s okay,” he tries to console you, “...your feelings are valid.  But I don’t think you need to find the answers to everything. They’ll just lead to more and it’ll never end.”
He was right. The more you held onto what happened between you and Steve, the more questions arose. He was living rent free in your head. 
“I just-” you struggled, trying hard to make sense of the situation, “I just wanna know. What did I do wrong? How did he get bored of me? When was I not enough?” 
“Have you ever heard of the 80/20 rule?” he asked, and you shook your head. “It’s basically a theory that when someone cheats, they are drawn to the 20% in another person that is missing in their current partner.”
You’re not sure how much that helped you because it begged the question…”And I know what you’re thinking, so stop that!” Eddie’s quick to read you, “you’re lacking nothing, alright?” 
“Everyone knows I’m not a big fan of Steve Harrington,” he said, scrunching up his face at the mention of his name, “...but he’ll regret this. His type always comes back…fucking roaches.” That last remark elicited a small cackle out of you. 
He then took your hand in his. It’s a stark contrast to your own hand – larger, a bit rough, warm and slightly clammy – but it provided a sense of comfort. You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at your hands clasped together until he gives it a light squeeze and says, “He’ll realize he was much better off with the 80% he already had.” 
Damn Eddie Munson. He was too good to you. It gave you a new perspective. Why were you being so hard on yourself? Why were you trying to convince yourself that the relationship’s downfall was your fault? It was Steve who started pulling away from you. It was Steve who did pull away from you. It was Steve who was actively pulling away from you. Everything that happened wasn’t solely on you. 
These kinds of things happen to everyone every day. Feeling hurt, broken, angry, betrayed and ashamed were normal and acceptable emotions. You just have to learn to swallow your pride and accept this as part of life. You live and learn – not necessarily forgive or forget, but move on in your own way. 
You were once happy without Steve, and you could be happy again. You gave up or changed a lot for Steve, losing sight of what made you happy. Now, you were committed to reclaiming your happiness. Fuck, when did you start crying? 
“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice laced in concern, bringing his other hand up to wipe the stray tears running down your face. 
“How do you do it?” you asked, looking down to compose yourself. 
“Do what?” he responded, amused. You didn’t answer verbally, but twist your hand in his to thread your fingers between his. The small smile on your face conveyed your question, softening his features. It’s a rare emotion from Eddie, mixed with vulnerability accompanied with a newfound awareness. 
He brings your now interlocked hands to his lips but not before saying, “...because I’m a big fan of you,” and kisses the back of your hand gently.
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The nerve.
Steve had the nerve to lie. 
Several months have passed with minimal communication from Steve. Occasionally seeing them together around school and town didn’t bother you anymore – well, not entirely. You can’t deny it still stirred up certain feelings, but you didn’t give it a second thought and eventually they weren’t a blimp on your radar. The past no longer consumed you, but unexpectedly, it started consuming Steve. 
Evidently, he still knew your schedule and had been desperately trying to find a chance to talk to you – just the two of you, without Eddie, other friends, teachers, classmates, or family around. When he approached you, you were confused; unsure if he was still with her or anyone else. You intentionally tuned out gossip and never paid attention to their situation. Besides, you had a better reason to not care about Steve anymore. So, when he starts pouring out his feelings, you take it with a grain of salt, this time with a clearer mind. 
“Hey,” Steve calls out as you step out of your front door, ready to head out with your ride nearby. 
“Uh, hey, Steve,” you reply with uncertainty. 
“Can we talk?” he asks hesitantly. 
“Now might not be the best time,” you respond with unease. 
“Please, just give me five minutes,” he begs, his eyes full of hope and pleading. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Despite your instincts telling you to stand firm, you reluctantly agree to hear him out, which you soon regret. 
Steve begins with an apology and offers to explain his actions. What more was there for him to explain? You no longer desired an explanation. It was simple – he grew tired of you, became interested in another girl, and left you; perhaps grew tired of her too and now he’s back. You had moved on from your failed relationship with Steve months ago. However, he felt he “owed” you an explanation. Was this all a joke to him?
The more he spoke, the more you got lost in your thoughts trying to comprehend the reality that he was standing before you, admitting to his mistakes, and seeking a second chance. His voice started to fade into the background as you felt the weight of deciding how to respond, all while knowing your ride would arrive at any moment. When the pressure got too much, you finally managed to step up. 
“Steve,” you interrupt, “I don’t know what you want me to say to you.” 
“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just–” he’s cut off by the sound of loud, muffled music, causing both of you to turn your attention to the bulky van that just pulled up in front of your house. 
You glanced at Steve sending him a tight lip smile before taking the short few steps to the curb, not looking back, knowing you were never going to get that "owed" explanation.
Steve had the nerve to try to act all innocent.
The atmosphere in Eddie’s van is tense the moment you climb into the passenger seat. Neither of you expected to see Steve today, let alone right before a date. And it happened. The lingering feelings had unearthed between you and Eddie and you welcomed it, a testament to your decision to move on from Steve. Right when things are looking up, life throws you a curveball in the form of your ex. 
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously, stealing a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. 
“Yeah,” you reply unconvincingly, then quickly retract, “no,” followed by a sigh, “I mean, I was…I am. I’m just annoyed at Steve right now. I swear I had no idea he was stopping by.” 
“You’re fine,” Eddie assured, dismissively waving his hand to convey that it wasn’t a big deal to him, though his mind was racing with a million questions. When he saw Steve with you, he couldn’t help but wonder: Why was Steve there? What were you two talking about? What did Steve want? Had you been in contact with him and not mentioned it? Not that Eddie could control who you talked to, girlfriend or not. 
“I can’t believe he had the nerve to say he ‘respects’ my feelings!” Your emotions spill out as you unload on Eddie, “After everything he did to me, does that look like someone who ‘respects’ my feelings?” 
“It is a pretty shitty thing for him to do,” Eddie agrees, not just coming from the boyfriend perspective, but from any perspective. 
Steve thought that by acknowledging your feelings upfront, it would ease his case. However, upon reflection, you realized it was more about saving face for the hurtful way he left you, attempting to depict himself in a more favorable light.
“Right?!” The audacity Steve had to arrive at your door, unannounced, just before your date with Eddie. God, Eddie. It was a brief but uncomfortable moment. Steve knew you were friends with Eddie, he never bothered to understand the depth of your relationship because he didn’t care enough to meet your other friends. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say, feeling remorseful.  
“For what?” he chuckles softly because can’t believe what you're apologizing for.
“I didn’t expect to see Steve today,” you explain. 
“That’s not on you,” he assures, “remember, I told you they always come back.” 
“True,” you agree, “but that’s not what I want.” 
“What do you want, then?” he asks.
“You,” you admit, “just you, Eddie,” reaching for his free hand to hold for assurance. 
Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to fool you.  
Steve had the nerve to try to steal you from your boyfriend. 
During the initial months, Steve made attempts to regain your favor. You questioned repeatedly whether you could genuinely consider being just friends with him. That had been his original intention after breaking your heart, but he failed to uphold his end of the deal. Was it worth attempting to rebuild a friendship with him? Would it reflect poorly on your judgment if you did? Could you bear being around Steve in any capacity? If Eddie hadn’t arrived on time for your date that evening, you didn’t know how much more of Steve's admission you could take before you hit another breaking point. 
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” Steve begins, pausing, his mouth opening and closing as he carefully chooses his next words, “I miss you.” He observes your lack of response before continuing, “I miss us. We worked…and I really want to try and get to that again…to what we had.” 
You can see it was difficult for him to admit this. Seeing your unphased reaction, he begins to ramble and talk out of his ass, “I mean, only if you want to. I can understand if you don’t. I do respect your feelings.” 
You knew you didn’t have the mental or even emotional capacity to deal with Steve at that moment, and fortunately, the interaction didn’t progress any further. More importantly, it didn’t ruin your date with Eddie. 
Steve’s graduation, once an event you looked forward to celebrating, was now a canceled event on your calendar. While you wished you could’ve joined in celebrating, Eddie had unfortunately not passed his exams again. Hopefully, on his third attempt, he will be able to graduate and walk the stage with you next year. 
You had started working at a music store, which you enjoyed because it allowed you to be surrounded by something you loved – music. Eddie particularly appreciated the employee discount, a place to hang around during your shifts, though he seemed less excited about the store’s proximity to a certain video store.
It was inevitable that Steve would eventually walk in. Initially, your classmate and presumably Steve’s co-worker, now friend, Robin accompanied him. Over time, Steve started coming in alone, conveniently when Eddie wasn’t hanging around. 
It wasn’t that you were afraid to be alone with him, and Eddie trusted you; he simply didn’t trust Steve. Despite Steve not being the same person from high school, multiple events humbling him, his efforts to revive your past relationship persisted. Although his approach was more subdued than before and masked as friendship, there was still an underlying motive. It was no secret either that you were in a relationship with Eddie. 
Given the small-town geography of Hawkins, you accepted Steve wasn’t going to just disappear. You managed to adapt to his presence. While you couldn’t deny that this attention boosted your ego, you were resolute about not revisiting the past with him. 
“So, I’ve got a copy of Pretty In Pink hot off the press,” Steve announced, showcasing proof of the video tape during another lunch break he spent at your workplace with you on a slow day. “Interested in watching it with me tonight?” he asked, trying to sound smooth and hopeful, adding and emphasizing “as friends,” though not convincingly considering you haven’t agreed to any plans with Steve let alone as that. 
You glanced at him, then at the tape in his hands, and then back at him. “Thanks, but I’m not really into rom-coms,” you replied with a small smile. 
“What? Since when?” he asked, visibly surprised. 
“Since forever…” you answered with a light laugh that almost sounded like a scoff. It internally annoys you because as a former partner, he should’ve known that.
“Oh,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter between you. 
“Yeah,” you drawled, trying to fill the ensuing awkward silence. Fortunately, the door chimed, signaling a new customer – saved by the bell, literally.  
“Babe, you’re gonna love me! I convinced Robin to save me a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and she fucking delivered,” Eddie exclaimed excitedly about tonight’s movie, barely noticing Steve’s presence until he reached the register. “Oh, hey, man.” 
It’s amusing yet endearing to see Eddie straighten up and square his shoulders around Steve, as if they were in competition. You couldn’t blame Eddie for feeling that way, though he really had no reason to worry he’d lose. 
“Hey,” Steve replied, shoving the copy of the romantic comedy aside, embarrassed that he had forgotten your preference for horror movies. 
As you and Eddie enthusiastically discussed the sequel, Steve felt out of place, as if you and Eddie were in your own little world, completely forgetting he was still standing there. He couldn’t contribute to the conversation because he hadn’t seen the first movie and didn’t know anything about it to share in the excitement. Eventually, he quietly slipped away with the tape in hand, on the short trek back to Family Video concluding his lunch break. 
The notion of ‘forgive and ‘forget’ was bullshit. While you could be civil, deep down, you still harbored hurt and anger over what happened. Much of the past year was spent in an emotional decline that affected various aspects of your life – home, social interactions, physical and mental well-being. Now, however, you were focused on reclaiming your happiness. Places and things around town that once reminded you of Steve and your past relationship no longer brought sadness; you were forging new memories with someone else.  
Whether it be in a friend or significant other, Eddie was like your rock. He was there from the start, witnessing your first date with Steve and even expressing his reservations about him. Yet, he knew he had to let you navigate life, love and mistakes on your own. Despite any reckless choices you made, even those that disappointed him, Eddie remained a source of comfort and support because he genuinely cared for you. 
Growing closer to Eddie was a breath of fresh air compared to Steve. You didn’t feel the need to impress Eddie; he was always impressed by you. Reflecting on it, you realized how much you had changed to fit in Steve’s world, which now seemed almost pathetic. With Eddie, you don’t have to change anything – your clothes, your diet, your friends, or your interests. He respected you for who you were. 
It’s ironic that just as you’re back on track and happy, Steve wants to interfere. What’s even sadder is that he promised an explanation but hasn’t delivered, yet he’s actively pursuing you. So what? You tell your ex you still have feelings for them and miss what you both had. What did he expect? That he was Steve Harrington and you’d jump back into his arms? No. He had moved on, supposedly, and so did you, finally. 
Part of you cherished early memories with Steve, and you weren’t going to fail to admit that during the initial attempts, you entertained the thought of what if you got back with him. However, he’s the reason why you struggled to move on and became recluse. Who knows? Maybe he learned from his mistakes or not. What he did to you, he did to her and would likely repeat to others. He only proved that second chances sometimes didn’t matter because rarely do people change. You concluded you couldn’t be more than what you currently were to Steve. 
He was the one who chose to end the relationship. He was the one who decided you weren’t enough for him. He was the one who chose to engage with another woman. He was the one who strung you along. He's the one who decided to cut you off. And now, he’s the one seeking a way back in. It was comical because all the tactics he used the first time he convinced you to go out on a date with him didn’t work this time. It had him trying harder and he was failing miserably. You were now the one living rent-free in his head. 
The events of this whole situation have allowed you to build emotional strength and learn to love yourself and someone else again. You were happy, and happy with Eddie. You weren’t going to let something silly as an 80/20 rule or a past relationship with Steve interfere with that happiness.
Yet, it goes to show the nerves of some people. 
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Post A/N: I wish I had this happier ending in real life. Please like, comment and/or reblog. It’ll motivate me to write more and you know also help my self-esteem.
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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year
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Maya and reader were together for 2 and a half years before Maya lost her job as captain of station 19, and reader broke up with her due to Maya's distance and behaviour toward the team and reader. reader than transfers to another firehouse, Maya goes through therapy and turns down the captain position and fights to get reader back.
I Wish I Was the Moon
Fandom: Station 19
Pairing: Maya Bishop x fem!reader
Words: 9.7k+
Genre: Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Smut
Summary: Maya hit rock bottom and along the way she lost the most important thing to her. It wasn't captain, she realized that quickly into her downward spiral. No, it was you. She had to do something to fix this, but she knew it started with herself. Would Maya be able to fix herself in time to win you back? Would you ever be willing to give her just one more chance?
Warnings: Alcohol mention; toxic relationship-ish depiction; mental health and therapy is a big theme; fingering (r!receiving); top!Maya, bottom!r; nipple play; marking.
A/N: Okay, this isn't exactly the same as the prompt so bear with me... but it's really close. Also did I put my own twist on an existing scene? Yes, yes I did. Also, the fic is named after the song with the same name that gave me inspiration. It's by Ewan J Phillips. Maybe listen while you read!
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Maya was doing better. She really was. It was the first time she could say that in months, maybe even years. She was working on herself, she was putting in the effort. 
Therapy had a lot to do with this. From regular sessions came the ability to regulate her emotions when things felt too intense. It helped her process trauma, not just the trauma she experienced as an adult either, but childhood trauma too. It shocked her, how healing it could be to process everything. It was hard to really fully come to terms with all of it. Memories that she had hurt, but she didn’t have a word for why. Now it felt less painful since she finally understood herself and what had happened throughout her life. 
Of course, therapy itself was something she was originally reluctant to do. It was something she was too headstrong to think she needed it, until she finally tried. She didn’t try for her though. No, if she was being honest, what got her to first make an appointment and then— after three cancellations —to finally show up, was you. 
When you left, Maya told herself she didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you. That quickly became obvious to her that she was seriously lying to herself. You left because she pushed you away when she lost her position as captain. She became irritable when you asked for her to be more open. This irritability led to fights and fights led you to distance yourself from her eventually too. Then, after one night of fighting back and forth, you left to cool off. When you came back in, Maya rounded on you without skipping a beat. That was the last straw for you. 
Maya still winced at the thought of the words that left her mouth that night. Accusing you of cheating, that the space you were taking was just to fuck someone new. She had thrown in your face that you two weren’t fucking, so it only made logical sense that you were out finding someone else. Of course, the words Maya used were more colorful.
She could still see the hurt in your eyes when she said them. She still remembered the way you didn’t yell back, instead you just stood utterly silent. The next thing she knew, you were packing up your things and officially moved out of her apartment. 
The weeks to come, Maya didn’t run after you. She didn’t try to call or talk or anything. Maya had foolishly convinced herself that you needed her more than she needed you; that you’d be back. She wasn’t going to call first. You had to. But you didn’t and it made Maya spiral even more. Things got worse for her. At work it was a constant reminder of her loss of captain. At  home, her apartment reminded her too much of her loss of you. So, she went out to bars in the evenings often. A little too often. 
That drinking led to bad decisions. One particular night was definitely her rock bottom. She had decided to call you. Drunk off her ass and angry she was stumbling into a dark apartment without you had her thinking irrationally. Her hands moved before her mind really comprehend what she was doing. Maya saw your name on the screen and immediately hit call. 
“You just gave up,” she slurred into the phone the minute she heard your tired, confused greeting from the other line. “How could you just give up?”
“M… Maya?” Your voice sounded exhausted. Somewhere in Maya’s drunken brain she knew she shouldn’t be calling you at 2AM, but at that moment she didn’t care. 
“You left and now I come home to nothing,” Maya pressed. “I lost… I lost my dreams and then— then you left me. You gave up on us. What was it? Because you’re ashamed I got demoted?”
“Maya, I did not give up on us.” Your voice sounded clearer now and Maya’s mouth snapped shut at the frustration she heard on the other end of the line. “You pushed me away. You forced me to leave.” 
“That- I-“ Maya was at a loss for words. The way you sounded, it wasn’t broken like Maya had thought, it wasn’t sad. It was angry. In those few words, drunk or not, Maya knew you were absolutely right. 
A sigh came from the other end and Maya turned her attention to her phone again. “Look, Maya, are you okay? Are you home?” You didn’t have to be there to know she was very much not sober. She might have made the last few months with her hell, but you still cared. You couldn’t just easily erase the history you had with her or turn off your feelings. 
“I’m… yes, I’m home.” Maya couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her hand dropped and her phone slid from her palm onto the couch. Her thumb tapped the screen to hang up and then she just sat there. Her mind spun from your words and from the alcohol. Even in her inebriated state, she knew from your tone of voice, just how hurt you were by her. 
The day after was no easier. She had curled up on the couch that night, not bothering to change or move before she passed out. There was a small hope in her drunken mind that she would forget those devastating words you said, but of course she didn’t. They replayed in her mind from the moment she woke up and nursed her hangover to the minute she went to bed. 
It was after that night that she decided to fix herself. You never called to follow up. Your silence was something that Maya knew she deserved, but still wished was otherwise. So, Maya became determined. She would fix this, but it started with her. No more drunken calls, no more lashing out. The next time she saw you, she’d prove she was a better version of herself, one that deserved your love again. 
Logically, Maya realized this transformation wouldn’t happen over night. There were times where she wanted to be impatient and reach out. Her therapist worked with her on this though, advising her to wait until she was sure she was ready. Therapy helped her be honest with herself, and so many times she wanted to see you, but she knew she wasn’t ready.
Until she finally was. She had discussed this in detail with her therapist. There was a plan being made, one she was eager to implement. Months had gone by, so this wouldn’t be easy. But Maya had a newfound passion and knew that this new outlook, this better version of Maya, wasn’t complete until she had her love back in her arms. 
So, she planned to show up at your door. Flowers in hand, ready to beg on her knees for you to hear her out for even just one minute. She knew she didn’t deserve that for what she put you through, but she was willing to try. She had to try. From the moment she met you, she felt like you and her were meant to be. When she finally was to enact her plan, it had to go well. But things really never are that simple. 
Running into you totally disarmed her. You looked vibrant. The last time she saw you, like really saw you, you were just so… broken. She knew, deep down, that she did that to you. But now… Now you’re glowing, you’re thriving and it made her disgusted with herself. All these negative feelings that she had worked through for months suddenly bubbled to the surface the minute her eyes landed on your face. 
There you were, on the other side of the cafe Maya had stopped at, smiling at someone she didn’t recognize. How much time really has passed? Maya knew it had been months, but she was trying not to dwell and count. Apparently enough time had passed for you to move on. At least that’s what it looked like. Obviously, you would move on from her. Maya knew, realistically, you had every right to move on, but she hoped you’d wait for her to right her wrongs. God how she hoped. 
But clearly, you didn’t. Maya treated you like shit so you left. It made sense. You gave her chance after chance after chance, of course there would be a breaking point. Of course, there would be a process that Maya didn’t see where you would pick yourself up from the wreckage she left you in and find someone else who would give you all the things Maya promised. The reality of it was that Maya failed to follow through on every single thing she said to you. Well, all but one. She told you she would never stop loving you. This promise happened once on a night when she held you tight and was scared you’d slip through her fingers. She remembered the ways your breath hitched and your eyes shone as she looked down at your face in the moonlight and made that promise. 
She remembered that promise so vividly. When the storm was coming down hard and you both listened with the window open, wrapped in each other’s arms. The setting was quiet, calming even despite the thunder booming outside. The feeling of you wrapped in her arms warmed her heart and she had never felt more complete than in that moment, so she said, “There’s never been someone I loved more completely than you.” You looked up at her with wide eyes filled with the most hopeful emotions. Then she followed “And I promise, that won’t ever change.” And it didn’t. Even if you didn’t look at her the same way, or at all now, she still loved you with her entire heart. Despite all the ugliness of your last few months together, it still was the truest feeling she’s ever had. Each night she laid down in an empty bed she ached for not just another body next to her, because that wouldn’t suffice. No, she ached for you and you alone. 
When Maya saw you, you didn’t see her. She had decided she needed to get out of there as fast as possible. After her order had come out, she snatched her coffee as fast as she possibly could. Her head stayed turned from you as she made her way past your table and to the exit. Of course, she was trying so hard to avoid your gaze that she didn’t pay attention to where she was going.
She fully bumped into another random man, her coffee falling to the floor and spilling all over the place. Apology after apology flew from her lips as she still tried to keep her head down and clean up her mess. When she popped back up with a handful of coffee soaked napkins though, that’s when her eyes met yours.
You were shocked, staring back at her with eyes wide. “Maya?” Your voice was full of surprise and not resentment, which relieved Maya for a second. But then your eyes flicked to the confused person next to you and Maya’s eyes followed before landing back on your face.
The look you gave her next killed her. It was a look of guilt and pity. One that crushed Maya’s heart into a million pieces. So, she fled. 
If you had followed her, Maya didn’t notice. She walked with as much speed as she could without breaking into a full blown sprint. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. 
This whole encounter threw off everything for her. She had to rethink everything she planned. Was it still possible to win you back? Was it too late? Should she even try?
Those were all the questions she flung at her therapist the moment she sat down for her next session. What she was reminded of was that she had no answers for what was going on and who she saw with you. Therefore, she had no answers for the previous questions she posed. 
The new plan was still to reach out, but be more casual about it. Ask for coffee and discuss all the ways you may have changed and how Maya had been doing. Focus on you first and then perhaps Maya can move onto her proposal to restart. This plan positioned herself so that she could learn who that person was and what the situation might be before putting her heart right on the line. 
She wasn’t ready for all of that just yet though. There was a greater potential for rejection now. Maya told herself she was too scared to know the truth so she would wait a bit longer. Even if waiting was knowing she could possibly be pushing you closer to this mysterious person, she just couldn’t muster up the courage. But, much like the coffee shop incident, life had other plans. 
In the months you two had been apart, Maya hadn’t run into you at all. Now, suddenly, she bumps into you two weeks in a row before she was really ready to. It was like some kind of cosmic cruel joke. 
Again, when she saw you, she felt utterly disarmed. She was just trying to enjoy a nice run when she ran straight up to you. Not intentionally, of course, she was off in her own little world. Her mind was wrapped up in you, so to hear your voice say her name as she passed had her utterly freeze in shock.
“Hi…” Maya said hesitantly as she turned to see your face staring back at her. This time, thankfully, you appeared to be alone.
“Hi.” Your voice had just as much hesitation as hers. “How… um, how are you?”
“Good,” Maya nodded, trying to catch her breath and calm her heart rate. She didn’t think it was the run that was elevating it. “Yeah, I’m good.” And it was true to an extent, even if she was internally panicking.
She hadn’t thought it would go this awkward. Maybe it was naive, but she assumed everything would just… click when she was one-on-one with you again. But instead, you were anxious and she was tense. 
Maya took a deep breath, remembering the exercises given to her in her sessions. It helped ground her and get her bearings. “How are you?” Maya finally managed to ask after a long, awkward pause. 
“I’m okay.” If there was one thing Maya knew, it was how to read your eyes. Your tone sounded fine, but that answer didn’t reach your eyes. In fact, as Maya looked on at your face, she thought you looked tired. Maybe even quite a bit sad. She wondered if she read you wrong at the coffee shop. If maybe you weren’t as happy as you seemed. Did your smile reach your eyes that day? Maya was too taken aback by suddenly seeing you that she didn’t pay much attention then. 
“Yeah?” Maya questioned. 
You nodded and for a moment that awkward pause was back. “Maya, about the other day…” you finally broke the silence.
“You don’t need to explain.”
“Yeah, but— I don’t know, I feel like I should.” Your voice got quieter as you spoke and Maya shook her head. She offered you a sad smile and more guilt washed over you. 
“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Maya honestly hoped you wouldn’t give one. Not yet, she still wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “It’s okay really.”
But then, as you both stood, shuffling awkwardly and trying to find the right words, or any words for that matter, Maya felt the nagging curiosity bubble up in her. Maybe if she did ask, it would be better now than later. She could rip off the bandaid. She didn’t want details, but she just wanted to know. It could determine if there was hope. If she had a reason to hold on to it; to you. So, she asked the scariest, but most simple question to end this internal debate that she could think of.
“Is it serious?” Maya tried to play it off as a casual question, but deep down the answer you would give her would hold an important weight in her heart that you were entirely unaware of.
“No,” you gave her a small, sad smile. “We just met that day.” 
Maya couldn’t help herself, she really couldn’t. She had to know. As much as your answers could rip her heart right out, she just had to. “Has there been anyone serious?” 
“No, Maya,” you sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of frustration, but one that sounded just so disheartening to Maya’s ears. “Not since…”
“Me,” Maya finished. 
You just nodded in a response. The look on your face said it all. The pain was still right there on the surface. There’s a discomfort between you two. Things were still broken. Of course they would be, Maya thought. It’s not like you two tried to talk after you walked out. She just let you walk away and she was sure you probably held that against her even today. You two didn’t try to be friends, you didn’t try to be anything after it all went down. It was just radio silence apart from that drunken night. But Maya could feel that there was still so much left unsaid. It wasn’t just her that wanted to talk, but she could see in your eyes that you did too. If you didn’t, you could’ve just walked on. Yet, you stayed. It was awkward and public, but you still stood in front of her, shuffling your feet, as you waited for more words to come. So a talk was definitely necessary and obviously overdue. The question is, would you be willing to actually sit down and talk with her?
She had to try, right? You were, well, you. The person on Maya’s mind every single day even if you weren’t currently in her life. Her greatest love that still held all of her heart. She had to try. 
“Could we… I don’t know.” Maya was really struggling to get these words out there. No matter how many times she practiced this in her head after running into you, doing it was harder. She had to be brave though. She knew this moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It had been so long since she saw you. Last week didn’t count, this meeting was different; face-to-face. A rare coincidence that suddenly presented her with so many options. What would happen if she let this chance pass her by? When would it come next? Would that girl you were with still be nothing serious? Maya couldn’t risk that. “Could we maybe grab dinner sometime?”
“Why?” It wasn’t a harsh question. You weren’t being defensive when you asked, but you were being cautious. Maya understood that and honestly she appreciated it even. But the question still took her aback.
“I just- I think we should talk.” Maya searched your eyes for any type of negativity to her request. She was really putting herself on the line. Not just with asking you to talk, but actually telling you that she was willing to. And talk she would. She would say everything that was left unsaid and she would let you say what you needed to say too of course. Maya could show you that she’s different, that she’s better, that she changed. Maybe then you’d give her just one last chance. She had no right to ask you for any more, not when so much time had passed. But god fucking dammit she wanted you back so badly. 
“I’ve been seeing a therapist and working on myself,” Maya continued. “I just want the chance to— to show you how far I’ve come.” The mention of therapy shocked you. It was something you asked her to consider, but all you were met with was a scoff. As your eyes searched Maya’s face, you realized how sincere she was. She seemed to be very honest about her claims. 
You wished you could relate. That you could say you worked on yourself in the time you two were apart. Truthfully, when Maya saw you it was the first time you decided to stop drowning in your heartbreak and find someone new. The sight of Maya that day had ruined that resolve.
Secretly, after that day, you hoped to see her again. Part of you wished she would call, but she didn’t. If you called, you felt like that was betraying every promise you made to yourself after leaving her. She needed to change to make it work, to stop hurting you, but you were scared she wasn’t capable of that.
So, you didn’t call. But when you saw her running towards you, on a route you knew she took, you couldn’t stop yourself from stopping her. Part of you still felt shocked to see her again, but really it was you lying to yourself. There was a strong chance you’d see her, and you knew that. You told yourself you needed the walk for fresh air, but there was more to it. The need to just talk to her, for even a moment, was too great. You wanted to know how she was doing, if she was okay. That drunken call still ran through your head and made you sick with worry.
When you saw her at the cafe, though, you thought she looked good. There was an inkling of hope, which is why you found yourself here trying to “accidentally” bump into her. And it all played out how you wanted.
But then she wanted dinner and to actually talk and you realized you were playing a dangerous game. If she hurt you all over again, honestly you didn’t think you could survive it. All you’ve done for months is lay in an unfamiliar, empty apartment you managed to find when you left. It didn’t feel like home, it felt depressing. You were sufficating in your heartbreak and just starting to pick up the pieces. If she was lying to get you back, only to treat you so badly again, it would destroy you for good this time.
“I don’t know…” Your eyes fell as you tried to find the right words to let her down.
“Just one dinner and then, if you want, you never have to hear from me again.” Maya’s plea had squeezed at your heart. The moment you made the mistake of looking back up at her, your resolve broke. She was so hopeful and yet so scared at the same time. “Just one dinner,” She repeated and you shocked yourself when you nodded in agreement. 
“One,” you whispered. 
“Good.” Maya’s smile was hesitant, but her eyes sparkled as she realized you were giving her a chance. Maybe it wasn’t a chance to get back together and make up for all the pain Maya caused, but it was a start. “This weekend, let’s go to that Italian restaurant… the one you love so much.” 
You knew the exact one. Maya wasn’t subtle. It was your first date, which is possibly why it was your favorite place. It was romantic and intimate. A good place to talk, but also a good place to get lost in Maya’s presence and lose your resolve even more. 
Still you couldn’t help but agree. “I’ll meet you there.” You knew if you drove there at least you wouldn’t be going home with her even if you wanted to. Maya nodded, giving you her most charming smile that used to make you swoon. It still did, if you were being completely honest. 
Your smile was nervous as you returned it, but still there was a flutter in your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The last time was before Maya got demoted, when that bright smile was turned your way almost every day. Seeing it again, you didn’t realize how much you missed it. 
Both of you parted after a moment. Maya’s jog continued but this time instead of spiraling in anxiety about potentially losing you forever, she was happy. Her plan was to talk, really it was, but as she ran her mind daydreamed about all the romantic possibilities that could happen after.
You, on the other hand, were preoccupied with very different thoughts. Ones of re-lived heartbreak and broken promises. The rest of that evening you spent spiraling and consumed in regret and fear of the what ifs. 
---------------------------------------------
The weekend came faster than you expected it to. In the days that followed your last encounter with Maya, your mind was fixated on so many worst case scenarios. Maya, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. 
She was nervous, sure, but she was also confident. She had her foot back in the door, she could try to convince you that she had changed. Logically, she knew jumping back into it all with you would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t like she wasn’t ready for that or for you. She knew she was ready to have it all with you, to have you back home and in the bed you once shared with her. It was all she wanted now. Screw captain, she had dropped the fantasy of getting it back somewhere in the second month of regular therapy sessions. Recently, it had even been reoffered to her and it was just as much of a shock to the station as it was to herself when she rejected the opportunity to snatch the position again.
Somewhere in the process of self improvement, she realized that wasn’t actually what she wanted. What she did want was her life back. That wasn’t possible, she decided, without you. But, not only did she want her life back, she wanted it to be better. For you. It’s what you deserved and she realized that now. She had taken you for granted and she was going to spend the rest of her life making it up to you if you’d let her.
That was another thing. Part of her plan was ambitious. She had wanted to eventually prove her dedication to you with a ring she had long hidden in the drawer next to her side of the bed, waiting for just the right chance. This was part of her plan that she had in mind before she saw you on that coffee date and if she was being honest, it was a part she tried to let go of again before she saw you on her run. When she saw you at the coffee shop, she had tried to calm herself, realizing the minute she felt ready that she was getting a little too excited. She had expected you to be hesitant, mad even, but she had held onto this naive idea that you were waiting for her to better herself. 
Even if she tried to calm herself down and not get her hopes up, she couldn’t help it. The closer she got to Saturday the more hopeful she got. Her mind wandered to the daydreams she used to have about a future with you, a wedding, a house… All those big things. There were butterflies in her stomach that she hadn’t felt since she got demoted. It really felt like everything was coming together for her.
That is, until about two hours before you both had agreed to meet.
While she was eagerly getting dressed in the nicest possible outfit, you were sitting frozen on your bed, staring at the clock tick away closer and closer to when it was time to see her. Your mind was running in circles about how you were setting yourself up to get hurt again, how you were going along with this all too easily. It was a big step to see Maya and who’s to say she really has changed? Or what if she has changed, but would stop working on herself the minute she had you back? She could lean on you, sure, you were always there to support her, but you didn’t want to be her emotional punching bag again. You didn’t want the cold shoulder when she came home, the accusations, the walking on eggshells. You didn’t know what was worse, living with a shell of the woman you loved or being without her completely. But as these months went on, and that emptiness sunk in, you had gotten used to it. Maybe it was better than the constant pain, rejection, and resentment Maya had directed towards you? Or maybe you just got comfortable in it?
Either way you were scared, so you made a choice. It was one solely made out of fear, one that you chose without truly thinking over it in a logical way. You sent a text on impulse.
Maya saw her phone light up as she was out already, trying to pick up a few of your favorite things before the date really started. With your favorite flowers in hand, she opened the text and her stomach dropped. 
I can’t see you tonight. I’m sorry.
That was all you gave her and honestly, Maya understood. She really did, but she was still crushed. 
The flowers she had in her hand were left forgotten on the cashier counter as she just walked straight out the door. 
The minute you sent that text your heart sank. You saw the three dots on the text thread start for a moment and then nothing. There was no reply, all it said was that it was read about a minute after you had sent it. You fell back on the bed, regretting the decision almost immediately and knowing just how much that had to hurt Maya. But it was for the best, right? That’s what you were telling yourself. It would save you both pain in the long run. It would save her from seeing you leave again, seeing you not be strong enough to stay by her side when she’s going through the worst of it. 
The guilt was killing you.
Eventually, about three hours later and what would’ve been an hour into the dinner you were supposed to have, you got tired of wallowing. You needed to eat, you didn’t have the emotional energy to cook, and maybe it would be good to get yourself up and moving. That way you couldn’t break your resolve, which for three hours had been seriously slipping. You lost count of the amount of times you typed and deleted an apology text to send to her. Of course, none of them got sent. If you sent one then there would be a possibility to reschedule and that reschedule would lead to all these feelings again. You couldn’t do that and you couldn’t put Maya through that.
So, by some miracle, you got yourself back out of bed. You walked, on autopilot, to your favorite pizza place to get some food. Honestly, you were probably quite the sight. You didn’t bother to do much other than get dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and jeans. There were probably still tear stains on your cheeks from how overwhelmed you felt by your emotions over tonight and your hair was definitely a mess, considering you buried yourself between two pillows and willed yourself to sleep off the horrible feelings. Sleep never came, so here you were. 
As you made your way into the restaurant and got in line to order, you really didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. So, when you completely missed Ben Warren with his family sitting at a table, it was only understandable to take no notice. But he definitely saw you.
His head perked up and his eyebrows arched high in surprise. Maya had been talking all week about tonight, so to see you here and also in such a state of dishevelment was really shocking. But then he put the pieces together. You looked rough, but he didn’t think it was because of your interaction with Maya.
What he should’ve done was mind his own business, but he had a soft spot for you and Maya and once he saw how dead on your feet you looked, he couldn’t stop himself. With determination, while you remained completely oblivious to his presence, he walked up behind you and cautiously tapped your shoulder. 
You turned slowly, not really thinking about who was behind you or what they could want. The emotional exhaustion was too strong for you to honestly care much about anything. You really just wanted to get food and go. Even then, you weren’t sure you were going to eat it. At least you’d try though.
Then, as you turned and realized who it was, that’s when you jumped out of your skin. This was the last thing you wanted– Well, maybe not the last thing since it wasn’t actually Maya who was standing in front of you– But still, seeing someone she worked with was not much better. God, you hoped he didn’t know that you had plans with Maya. If he did, then it would be very obvious that you blew her off. He was her friend before he was yours. In fact, you weren’t sure if he really was your friend. Ben was kind and caring of course, but he was like that with everyone. 
The last thing you wanted was for him to look at you with any sort of disappointment or disapproval. What if his reaction was worse? That kind and welcoming side you had learned to associate with Warren could go away completely if he knew where you were supposed to be tonight. You really couldn’t get chewed out by him for hurting his friend. That wasn’t something you had the emotional capacity for tonight. Surely, Maya didn’t tell everyone. She wouldn’t, right? Thinking back to the dynamic you witnessed between her and her station and how everyone was a big family… the odds weren’t in your favor.
“What are you doing here?” Warren’s question was gentle, he waited to ask when the shock of seeing him finally washed from your face and was replaced with one of hesitation. He didn’t seem mad and, in fact, it was almost like he already knew the answer, but your heart still sank when you heard the question either way. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Maya? It’s all she’s talked about this week.” 
So he did know. Of course, he knew. “Warren, hi… I- she told you about it?”
“It’s all she’s been talking about,” he said with no hint of humor in his voice. You swallowed hard at the look on his face. Not disapproving, but still serious.
“I- I couldn’t go,” you stammered. “It didn’t seem like a good idea. She said she changed— I don’t know. Look I should go.” You took a step back and your eyes darted to the exit. It was a bad idea to come out, you were seriously regretting that now. Food be damned, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed. 
Seeing as Warren didn’t seem to want to stop you, you turned to leave. Even if you came here to get your comfort food before you spent the night, yet again, wallowing in heartbreak, your appetite was gone. Plus, you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you right now, the guilt of it was making you feel nauseous.  
“She gave up captain.” Warren’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
“What did you say…” Your question trailed off as you turned to him again.
“She gave up captain for you.” He repeated. What he said was something Maya didn’t even plan to tell you, not yet anyways. It was the last part of her process before she realized she was ready to try again with you, ready to show you she was better. And it was also the one thing you never thought you’d hear, one Maya knew would shock you to your core. She didn’t want you to know until she actually had you in her arms again, lest you think it was a tactic to get you back the easy way without even proving herself first. But, as Warren stood and saw how terrified you clearly were to jump into things with Maya again, he knew he had to nudge. 
“Warren…” It felt like the wind got knocked out of you. “That can’t be true. She wants that more than anything.” 
“No,” Warren shook his head. “There’s something she wants more.” His face said it all, he didn’t have to tell you what that thing was. It was so clearly you.
You were at a loss for words. Your heart was beating faster by the second as realization washed over you. 
“I suggest,” Warren’s voice was gentle now, “ you go see her. Tonight.”
You nodded, your feet backing away from the man yet again, but this time when you turned for the door it was for a different reason.
A million questions ran through your mind and you felt even worse about canceling on her now. You should’ve given her a chance to talk. You should’ve heard her out. If what he was saying was true then it changed everything. There was nothing bigger than the claim he just made. Warren didn’t lie either, you knew he was a trustworthy man. So you knew, deep down, the claim was true. 
Your feet carried you home faster than you thought capable. It was like your body was on autopilot while your mind raced. You stopped to grab your car keys before peeling out of your apartment parking lot and speeding towards your destination. You knew exactly where you wanted to go before you even really processed that you were already heading that way. It was rash. You had just spent the whole week worrying about being close to Maya again, hearing Maya out, opening yourself up to heartbreak. Now, though, everything was different. Now, you were suddenly ready to throw caution to the wind. 
Ben said the exact words you needed to hear to let go of any of your hesitations. Yes, you should’ve heard Maya out and yes, what you did wasn’t the best. But you were going to listen now, or try to. Even if your mind was in a million places at once, the only thing you knew was that you needed to see her. 
So when you found yourself at her apartment, you didn’t think to text or call her to warn her you were coming or to tell her you were there even when you slammed the car door and rushed to her unit. There was no hesitancy in the way you went straight to her door and knocked profusely. 
You definitely seemed like a crazy person, but you didn’t really care at that moment. Did you have a plan? No, but all you knew was that you needed to make this right. You’d hear her out, you’d listen for hours, you’d do whatever it took later. But as you waited anxiously for her to come to the door, this feeling inside you grew. It was one that told you to just fling yourself into her arms. Warren gave you all the reason you needed for you to let go of your trepidations. So if you could get her to open the door for you, you might just do exactly that. 
Finally, the door swings open and Maya’s irritated face twisted into utter shock the moment she saw you on the other side. It was almost comical to see just how flabbergasted she was. But then, as you took her appearance in, you realized she was probably wallowing in the same way you were the moment she read your text.
“(Y/N), hi what are you-”
“I have some stuff to say and I need you to just listen.” You interrupted her. She nodded immediately and stepped aside to let you in. You walked right past her and into the middle of her apartment. An apartment you used to share. The strangeness of being back here settled in your stomach like a storm and it just added so much more to your anxiety and confusion. Again, you really didn’t have much of a plan as to what was to come next. You should talk, you really should talk, but also you didn’t want to talk you just wanted… her. 
Maya walked in behind you and waited. You paced back and forth in front of her. With each step you took both yours and her anxiety was rising. She had no idea what you were going to say or if it was going to break her heart into tiny pieces. She was already hurting from your actions earlier today. The last thing she expected was to see you show up at her doorstep.  This could go either way. But honestly, she was gearing up more for you to say you never wanted to see her again rather than say anything good. But she hoped beyond hope that she was wrong to prepare for that. 
Your mind was racing and your heart was pounding in your chest. Ever since you let Maya back into your life (if you could even count the encounters you had as that), you were so afraid of her and the hurt she could possibly bring on top of the hurt you were already feeling from what happened before. But now you get this news? That the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world was offered to her and she said no. That one thing she wanted so badly it broke the both of you was no longer the thing she wanted and it felt like you were living in another reality. How were you supposed to react when Ben, the most honest man you knew, looks you in the eye and says it was you that she wanted most of all now? What do you say to him or, even more importantly, to her after learning that fact?
“We have a lot to talk about,” You were repeating yourself, but it was all you could think of to break the silence.  
“I know,” Maya nodded as she watched you pace the room.
“And a lot to work through.”
“I know,” she repeated.
“With this dinner was I… Was this your way of getting things back to the way they were?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Not how they were. A new start.”
“Maya, I- I’m still hurt. You hurt me and I haven’t healed all the way yet. It’s not that easy.”
“I know,” Maya hung her head. “I know, I hurt you. And I know it’s not that easy.”
“But even then… even…” Your words were escaping you and the battle in your mind was fizzling out to just one thing. You were so fucking tired. Tired of hurting from Maya. Tired of working through all of this and “staying strong” whatever the fuck that meant. Fuck sticking with your decision and standing your ground. Fuck being apart from the only woman you think you ever truly loved and would ever love. Fuck all of that. “Even after everything, even after months have passed… God, Maya can you just be kissing me now? Please?”
It didn’t even take Maya two seconds to process your words. In two quick strides she was in front of you, with her hands on either side of your face, pulling you in. It felt like a hurricane of emotions exploding inside you the minute her lips crashed into yours. But god was it just so… so everything. It was painful, it was incredible, it was messy, it was earth shattering. The way she was pressing her lips to yours with so much need, so much love, and so much desperation. And you met every emotion she was giving you into that kiss with your own tenfold. God, this was all you both wanted.
Maya felt like she was about to explode with joy. She knew there was work to be done, she knew you were hurt and the both of you were still broken, but finally there was hope. When she asked you to dinner, never in her wildest dreams did she think this would be happening right now. Especially after the text she received. But this. This moment right here was a sign that those pieces she broke back then could start being put together and that was all she had hoped for the minute you walked out the door. She was going to do everything she possibly could to fix what you two had. 
Your hands moved to tangle into Maya’s hair and hers moved to wrap around your waist and pull your body to press against hers. The kiss grew more and more heated with every passing second. It was like you had been starving for her and now finally you got to have a taste again, but it was going to take so much more to satiate you. Maya was in the same boat.
In the back of your mind, you thought maybe you should stop at kissing her and start talking at some point, but then your back hit the wall and Maya’s hands were dipping under your shirt and scratching at your sides. The way she was pressing herself so completely into your body, while also pulling you impossibly closer had your head swimming. A small moan fell from her lips as she kissed you harder and any thought of stopping was totally gone. The overwhelming need to be even closer (if that was possible at this point) overtook you. Plus, you didn’t want to go another night without having her next to you. The thought of going back to your empty apartment, falling asleep alone in bed, without her strong arms around you was the last thing you wanted. Tonight, you wanted Maya and you weren’t going to deny yourself of that any longer.
You were melting into her, your hands gripping at her back desperately as she kissed you with everything she had. The way your tongue ran over hers had both of you groaning against each other’s lips. Maya too thought maybe she should take it slow. Her reasoning was that she was worried she’d scare you off, but then you held her tighter and let her kiss you deeper and she knew that she couldn’t hold back. She’d only stop if you told her to stop, otherwise she was going to finally indulge. 
Eventually, Maya’s hands gripped tightly at your waist and she pulled you to walk backwards into the bedroom with her. Not once did she break the kiss and with each step you took with her, she just felt more eager to have you completely again. When both of you crossed the threshold, her hands were immediately tearing at your clothes. Both of you only broke the kiss for her to remove your shirt and bra and then her own, before you both leaned back in.
This time, when she kissed you, she slowed a little. Her tongue licked into your mouth and your nails dug into her bare shoulders. Her hands trailed down your stomach until they reached your jeans. She slipped her fingers into your belt loops and, in one swift move, she had you turned around until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell backwards. 
You landed with an umph but she didn’t seem to mind, neither did you. She followed you down with her knees resting on the mattress on either side of your hips to hold herself up. Her lips moved from yours to lick and nip down your neck. You were breathing hard and small whines were falling freely from you now. 
All the while, Maya was in a state of disbelief. This all felt too good to be true, but then here you were. In her hands, on her bed, laying right beneath her. The very thought of it all just made Maya’s need for you rise. 
Her teeth sank into the tender flesh between your neck and collarbone a little harder than she had been nipping at you before. A loud gasp filled the room, but quickly turned into a desperate moan as her tongue ran over the bite mark she left behind.
Usually, when you two were together before, you would complain about her leaving marks and the efforts you’d have to take to hide them the next day. This time was different, though. You didn’t mind her doing it, in fact you wanted her to. In a weird way it was a reminder that Maya seemed to have changed and that she was here with you tonight. So if anything happened after this encounter, at least you had this moment with her. This moment of completely throwing caution to the wind and letting Maya have you completely as she once did.
Maya’s hands tugged at your jeans as her lips and tongue made their way down to your chest. When she lowered her head past your neck, she was finally met with the sight of your perfect bare chest. When Maya had managed to rip off your jeans and toss them somewhere, one hand shot right up to palm at your breast while the other pushed your thigh until you had no choice but to spread your legs and let Maya adjust to kneel between them. 
With the way Maya was palming at one nipple, rolling it between her fingers and teasing you, your head was swimming. Then, she took your other in her mouth and your own hand flew to her hair, pressing her closer to your bare breast as she lightly sucked and nipped at it. 
Your head had already fallen back onto the pillow, your body already overwhelmed by all the things Maya was doing to it. It was like she never missed a beat.  She knew what you liked, she remembered every sensitive spot, every way and place to touch that drove you crazy. When her fingers finally left your inner thigh and moved between your legs to just barely trace the outside of your folds, you couldn’t stop the whimper.
That was one thing about you and Maya. The sex was always amazing because she always paid attention to your body. But she also loved to draw things out, which is exactly what it seemed like she was doing tonight. The way she continued to pay attention to your breasts while just barely ghosting the tips of her fingers over your clit was her way of taking her time. It was also driving you crazy. You didn’t think tonight, of all nights, you could let this be drawn out.
It had been months since you left Maya and even longer since she actually touched you like this. Drawing it out was torture for you. Even though Maya was enjoying this, enjoy your body, she still knew you well. She didn’t miss the frustrated huff when she only traced your entrance but didn’t do much else. She heard the pleading whimpers when her fingers rubbed lazy circles against your clit. As much as she wanted to take her time and absorb every little detail about your body, she wanted to fulfill your needs first.
So, when she entered you with two fingers without warning, the way you gasped out her name felt like the most rewarding sound Maya had ever heard. You still had one hand tangled into her hair and the other moved to wrap around her back as she began to move her fingers inside you. 
Maya managed to position herself in a way that whenever she entered her fingers into you, she put her whole body behind it. She rocked into you with each time her fingers pumped inside you. The whole bed creaked and groaned as she continued to fuck you at a steady, but strong pace.
As her pace sped up, Maya buried her head into your neck. Her emotions were high right now. To be with you like this again finally was everything to her. The way you held onto her, the way you felt around her fingers, the way you were about to fall apart at any second because of her— it was so beautiful to her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she ignored them, knowing they were just a result of how happy she finally was. Her lips reattached to your neck, leaving marks on your skin as you turned your head into the pillow and gave her more access. 
When her fingers curled inside you and you cried out her name again, she groaned into your neck. Her free hand moved to grab one of yours and entangle your fingers as she started to pump the two inside you even harder. At this point, she knew you were close. She could feel you tighten around her fingers.
By now all you were doing was moaning her name. Every part of you was overwhelmed by Maya and the intensity was nothing you had experienced before. To go so long without the woman you loved, to not know if you’d ever have her again, made this experience so much more intense.
Your body shook as Maya continued to press her fingers against just the right spot inside you. The hand that was now in yours held tighter and you squeezed back as your body started to approach that edge.
White hot pleasure burst through your whole body finally and you felt yourself tighten even more around the fingers inside you. You let out a pathetic whimper of Maya’s name as you came. She kissed at your neck and your face, murmuring different things about how good you were, how beautiful you looked, and other praises.
Your body relaxed underneath her finally and she slowly and carefully slid her fingers out of you. Maya’s body rested more fully on top of yours once she had and you still struggled to regulate your heartbeat.
A hand came to press against your cheek and Maya leaned up slightly to look at you. You were still panting a little from the intensity of the orgasm, but you managed to focus your eyes and look back. The expression you saw from her took your breath away. Never had you seen her so happy, so radiant in all the time you’ve known Maya. She was smiling down at you with the softest, but most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Her eyes shined as she stared back at yours and all you could read in them was admiration and happiness. 
She leaned down then, her lips pressing against yours in the most gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned up into it, overtaken by the softness that Maya was displaying. 
“I know we need to talk,” Maya whispered when she pulled away. “But would you stay the night, please?” You nodded and Maya’s smile only got brighter. “I just want to hold you for the rest of the night. Is that okay?”
“I’d like that,” you managed to say, your voice still rough from the intensity of the events just moments ago. 
“Good,” Maya sighed happily. She adjusted then, rolling off you and shimmying out of the rest of her clothes. Then she settled beside you, pulling you into her strong arms where you adjusted until you felt comfortable. There was so much intimacy in this moment, your bare bodies pressed to each other and your head on her chest so close you could hear the beat of her heart. Before you left, before Maya lost captain even, this kind of intimacy was hard for Maya to express. You had learned and accepted that it was a feeling that would come when it did, and that was rare.
But tonight, as Maya’s fingers raked gently through your hair, it felt so natural and easy for her. There didn’t seem to be any difficulty in the affection Maya was showing and your heart skipped a beat as you realized just how much truth she had spoken when she said she changed. 
You felt content in this moment, like everything would be okay. No matter what all you had to talk through, no matter the work that still needed to be done, things between you two would be okay. You were right where you were supposed to be and both of you felt that sentiment now more than either of you ever had. 
“Maya,” you whispered into the peaceful silence the room had fallen into. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Those words had so much emotion, they held so much promise in them, and you hoped Maya understood all of it in the conviction you put behind them.
Maya’s hand paused in your hair for a moment, but you felt the arm around you tighten and pull you closer. “I love you too,” Maya finally said, clearing her throat to avoid the obvious signs of tears that threatened to spill. “I will always love you with everything I have, if you let me. I promise you that.”
It was a new promise that Maya was making to you. What felt like so long ago Maya had held you and said she never loved anyone more completely than you and promised that never would change. Now she is promising you that she will give her all to loving you and being the partner you need. Maya has broken promises, she’s let you down and hurt you in the past. It’s what broke the both of you before. But as you took in her words, you knew, just as she held onto the one promise, she’d hold onto this one as well. 
There was healing to do, but Maya was ready to rebuild with you if you’d let her. And as you pulled yourself closer into her body and pressed a kiss over her heart, she knew you were all in to rebuild with her too.
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animeyanderelover · 7 months
Note
I’m so glad requests are open again! 😄 I was wondering if I could request more members of the akatsuki (of your choosing) as vampires. I really enjoyed the last one did
Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, stalking, clinginess, sadism, manipulation, threats, isolation, violence, death
Vampire AU
Obito Uchiha
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🔥Years, decades, centuries. Obito has stopped counting the passage of time. It has become meaningless to him ever since he was turned into a vampire. Yet the hole in his heart still feels as fresh as ever. The images still haunt him today. The lifeless look in his love’s face, the feeling of her cold skin and the sticky blood on her body. Brutally murdered and then sucked dry by a vampire hidden among the villagers. Yet no one in his old village had ever dared to go after the vampire, too afraid of angering them. So Rin had just become another victim to appease the vampire for a while, the same who had also murdered his parents. Cowards. All of them. The death of Rin has shattered Obito and the consequences of this incident have influenced him until this age. With her death, his heart has died too. That’s why he didn’t feel anything when burning down the village he had learned to despite ever since that day nor did he feel any less horrified when confronting the vampire who had killed his parents and Rin despite having only been human that time. Obito left victorious yet scarred and as a vampire.
🔥You are a naïve young thing. Don’t you know better than to approach a stranger in the rain and offer him cover under your umbrella? A silly sickness you may worry he could catch if he would continue sitting beneath the pouring rain is the least thing you should have to concern yourself about. He could kill you within the blink of an eye yet Obito doesn’t do anything. He just sits there quietly, eyes hazy as he is with his thoughts far away. He’s thinking about Rin again and ignores you in favor of drowning in memories. You aren’t distracting him after all as you are considerate enough to notice the unspoken sorrow draped around his heart. You spend your time with him, even though he is barely acknowledging you yet clearly it doesn’t bother you. A considerable amount of time passes by until rays of sunshine fight their way through the rain clouds. That’s when you finally take your leave, say your goodbye to the strange man and apologize if your presence should have annoyed him in any way. You don’t notice the black eye trailing after you for the first time that day. What a funny human you are…
🔥There is a certain appeal, an attraction, a thrill whenever you spot the mysterious man. No one in your village seems to know of his existence. You are the only one and you can’t deny the feeling of specialness that accompanies this knowledge. The town you live in consists of a small community where everyone knows everyone and everything. But this man is your secret and selfishly you hope that you’ll be the only one who he ever shows himself to. Obito has grown to tolerate your presence at worst and enjoy it somewhat at best. Perhaps that is just because he appreciates that you aren’t annoying him with any persistent questions. You seem to be happy just to silently spend time with him and even if he knows that it’s because visitors are so rare in your town and that he’s only shown himself to you, he doesn’t bother to think too much about it. Maybe, just maybe your presence and personality is something refreshing to him and the hollow pain he has been calling his companion for so long now. It is comforting and even soothing to just spend time with you, although he has never exchanged a word with you.
🔥Curious and kind eyes that stare so intently at him and study his scarred visage without a hint of fear melt his cold and dead heart. A feeling is stirring awake inside of him. A feeling Obito thought had died on that day together with Rin. It manages to fill a hole in his heart that has been empty for too long. With the feeling of fulfillment soon comes a paranoia though that will soon burn everything in its path. With the gradual feeling of warmth and love that pulses through his body comes the immense fear to lose the source of his love once again. Obito fears the loss of you, fears the hollowness that would befall him again if that were to happen, worse than ever before. His body starts reacting whenever you get too close to him, itching to feel your warm skin against his cold skin and feel your heartbeat against his dead one. He despises your absence that tears open the gaping wounds on his heart that you just managed to soothe with your mere existence. He hates the loneliness he now has to endure because of your absence and so he starts stalking you. A silent shadow that watches every step you take and admires your sleeping form at night.
🔥Even through all of his paranoia, everything is still somewhat stable. Because you’re still there with him. He can never let go of the image of your face when he finally reveals his name to you. The look of astonishment and wonder in your eyes as you hear his voice for the first time before it turns into giddiness and joy before you excitedly tell him your own name. He’s known your name already as he has heard other people call you by it whenever he has been watching you without your knowledge. As long as he has you, Obito feels somewhat alright. But then those people try to take you away from him. In such a small village rumors and gossip get around quickly. An arranged marriage between you and the child of a farmer. The mere whisper of those words shatters something within him but it’s your tears that give him the final blow to his sanity when you come running to him the very next day. Your eyes are red and puffy as you sob as you have just gotten the news from your parents and feel utterly powerless as you can’t defy them. The feeling of muscular arms pressing you against his cold body surprises you. He’s never touched you before.
🔥His tight grip on you doesn’t loosen for a while as Obito clings onto you, promises you that everything will be alright. That he’ll take care of it.There is something that unsettles you about his voice and so you look up at his face. When your teary eyes meet his own, a look of lovesick infatuation crosses his face, one of his hands wiping away your tears as he starts cooing over you. You remember his black eye turning red before you lose consciousness. When you wake up again, the sky above you is dark… So why is it still so bright? You slowly stand up, sleepy and confused, as you start walking into the direction of the light. Fire. Your whole town swallowed up by the flames. You want to let out a scream but the horror silences you, only the cackling of the flames filling the air. There is a tightness in your chest, your hands trembling and your vision blurring with a new set of tears. The feeling of familiar arms wrapping themselves around you from behind nearly stops your heart, his sickening sweet voice telling you that he’s got rid of all of them. Icy lips trail across your neck, murmuring promises of eternal protection and love.
Konan
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🤍Konan’s childhood has been filled with suffering and hardships that some adults will never reach within their lives. She has grown up in a time of civil war where the community fell apart and groups with different beliefs emerged and fought against each other. Her own family who tried to stay out of the conflict unfortunately became a victim of the raging war as Konan was only a young girl when she witnessed both of her parents being killed right in front of her. From that day on, she was forced to learn how to survive on her own. Whilst other children spent their time dreaming and playing around, Konan had to survive on the streets. With no money available to buy anything, she had to learn how to steal food, clothes and everything else that she might need. She can’t even count all of the times she was caught and beaten when caught in the act of stealing, only spared because she was a young child. Forced to run, hide, steal and kill for survival. Perhaps that is why she shows courage in front of a vampire when even whilst mortally wounded. She does not fear death as she has never truly lived anyways. What courage.
🤍Up until this day she doesn’t truly know why the vampire chose to save her life. Was it admiration or pity that moved them to turn her into an immortal being? She will never find the answer to that as she hasn’t seen her creator in nearly 300 years. Time has passed within the blink of an eye and the war is long over. What used to be a destroyed graveyard of a town is now a modern city and the brutal civil war is now part of history books. It is strange, to see all those smiling faces who have never experienced anything even remotely close to what she has gone through. Drawn to the place that used to be her home though, Konan still visits this place every few years to see how much it has changed once again. Truly nothing seems to be eternal except her kind as even empires crumble eventually. She enjoys visiting libraries and reading books in a quiet and peaceful environment. It is during one of her visits that she meets you for the first time. You’re a student majoring in history with your nose literally stuck in loads of books as you nearly walk against her, unable to see behind the pile of books.
🤍As you are aiming to major in history by the end of university, the library is one of your sacred places. Konan spots you quite often there, borrowing books and giving them back or just sitting on one of the tables and scribbling quickly down everything you can write down. You’re diligent and quick but she can sense that your studies stress you out. You smell constantly of coffee, the caffeine keeping you late at night alive to finish your paperwork and the lack of good sleep has led you to be more clumsy and accident-prone. It’s such a pity that you stress yourself out to such an extent because Konan genuinely likes you. You’re adorable, scatter-brained and somewhat shy as you are in an awkward phase in your life. Most admirable is your genuine interest in history though as you find it fascinating to research the past and compare ideas and ideologies from back then with current developments today. Sometimes you get so excited that you dump a short history lesson on her but she just listens intently, sometimes correcting you when you got something wrong.
🤍Konan has remained detached from humans ever since she was turned. She knows the bad reputation vampires have, even if most people nowadays only view them as a legend. Her eternal lifespan is only additional weight she has to carry as she knows that a human’s life is but a mere blink for her. She knows that she shouldn’t spend so much time with you, knows that she shouldn’t start catching feelings. Yet feelings remain the same, no matter whether she is a human or a vampire. Maybe it is also the loneliness of 300 years talking out of her that makes her enjoy your presence so much. Your curiosity is refreshing and your willingness to accept the wrongdoings of the country you grew up in and the conviction that it’s important to learn from the mistakes of the past impress her and your excited rambling whenever she shows interest in your studies only adds to everything. Those growing feelings make her all the more worried for you though. She senses how much you start stressing yourself out as exams come around. She watches you without your knowledge skipping sleep in favor of not missing the deadline.
🤍Just like that you suddenly get a secretive caretaker. Someone who somehow manages to slip notes in your apartment , especially in your own bedroom, to remind you to go to sleep in time. Someone who buys you food and drinks and places them in front of your door. Someone who always seems to know what you are doing and where you are. In modern terms you would call that a stalker so despite the kind intent behind those actions, you start freaking out. Whilst Konan understands your increase in paranoia, she can’t deny the tinge of sadness when she sees how negatively you react to her gifts. She decides to stop though in order to not add to your increasing stress. The damage seems to be already done though as she doesn’t see you anymore in the library. You have decided to stay inside your apartment out of anxiety to be followed again. Instead you start working like a maniac to finish your essays and to study for your exams. When she finally breaks into your house after a few days of not having seen you, she finds your unconscious form hunched over your desk. You’ve fainted from overwork.
🤍No one can tell you who it was that contacted the hospital. You can’t remember anything either. It is a mystery that haunts. It must be the same person who wrote you notes and bought you stuff. With a high fever due to malnourishment, you don’t have enough time to worry as much as you could. You decide to take the time in the hospital to just rest properly. It’s night already when you stir awake from your ill slumber, a gust of wind caressing your hot face. Has someone opened the window? You recognize a silhouette standing in your room, highlighted by the silver light from the moon reaching through the window. Cold fingers reach out to touch your heated skin, the contrast almost pleasant if it wouldn’t be for your fear. Who is that? You can recognize golden eyes glowing in the dark, the voice of a woman soothingly talking to you. She seems familiar… From where do you know her? Your mind in your ill state works too slow to process everything properly as the cold touches lure you back into your sleep. When a nurse enters your room to check on you, there’s only the chilly wind and the empty bed greeting her.
Deidara
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💥Deidara has grown up in a family known for being passionate artists yet unfortunately no one around him seemed to value the art that his family created. Everyone was only focused on money, riches and food as the service of his family was rarely requested. There was only little money that his parents were able to earn and it was barely enough to get by. Going to bed hungry without any food in his stomach became a common experience for Deidara yet he knew better than to complain and whine for something he knew his parents couldn’t give him. As he grew older, he eventually parted ways with his parents when they decided to finally give up their dreams. Even if they had down it to earn enough money for the family, Deidara has never been able to forgive them for throwing away their passion for such a crude thing such as money. He set out to find his own special art and it was on one of those journeys that he had his deadly encounter with the very vampire who ended up turning him. Yet strangely enough Deidara never mourned the loss of his humanity. After all with his time limit now removed, he could truly perfect his art.
💥Deidara hasn’t been a vampire for that long. It has only been a few years. His level of self-control still isn’t nowhere near as good as it could be. That is why his throat feels dry and thirst suddenly overcomes him when he picks up the scent of blood on one evening. His pupils widen and he bares his sharp fangs ever so slightly as he follows that irresistible aroma. He’s sure that he would have killed you on that night if it wouldn’t have been for you lighting up those fireworks despite accidentally cutting yourself. The colorful explosions and the sounds of the fireworks going off is what forces his senses to focus on something besides the smell of your blood. And just like that he is in awe of what he sees as explosions are something Deidara has discovered for himself too in those past few years where he has become a vampire. He’s just standing behind you and watching the fireworks in silent admiration before a startled shout from you disturbs his admiration when you suddenly spot him in the darkness. He apologizes for his unannounced appearance before he quickly walks away to quench his thirst elsewhere.
💥Yet Deidara isn’t going to leave you just like that. Not after what he has seen you lighting up fireworks, something that is still a new invention in the human world and for that rare. He hunts down someone from a village close to where he is, the village where you most likely live, before he approaches you again. He’s quite excited when he spots you again after searching for you, eager to talk with you about what you have done yesterday. You on the other hand look mildly mortified when you recognize him, your eyes nervously darting around when he mentions that he is the person who saw you yesterday in the forest. Before he can say anything more though, you usher him quickly somewhere else. It isn’t until you are sure that no one is around anymore, something that he can confirm with his enhanced senses, that you’re willing to engage in a conversation with him. You make it very clear that Deidara should never tell anyone about in the village what he has seen you do yesterday. The blonde man is confused but just agrees out of curiosity for you to continue explaining to him and because you look cute when you’re nervous.
💥You confess to him that the creation of fireworks within your village is strictly forbidden. It is not only because in the rural area you live in such an invention is still foreign and largely unknown but also because everyone, especially the elder people who still make a lot of the rules within the town, fear the dangers of accidents that might happen. That’s why you have to make everything your own in a secret place you created within the forest and have to keep it a secret that you create something the villagers have forbidden anyone living here to make. As a fellow artist with the same fascination and love for explosions, Deidara’s heart goes out for you. Why must the ignorance of others hold back an artist’s passion? He quickly offers to help you, to help you to perfect your dream of creating the most beautiful and perfect firework. Even if you would try to tell him that he doesn’t have to lend you a hand, he doesn’t listen to you. He’s far too stubborn to listen to anybody as he volunteers to get you every tool you need to build fireworks in secret. As a fellow artist, it is his duty to help you to perfect your creation.
💥Far too quickly you seem to recognize that he has caught feelings for you. How could you not when he constantly looks at you either that stupidly infatuated smile on his face? Deidara feels like he has found his soulmate, his princess to protect in you. Both of you are after all stuck in the same dilemma as artists under-appreciated and misunderstood by the public. He’s set on showering you all the more in praise and love in return for every little thing you do. He’s going to help you to fulfill your passion as he assists you in making everything and even happily shows you his own art he has been working on. As an artist you approve of it but in his already delusional mind he takes every compliment as another confession of love from your side. He despises it whenever you have to leave him, cold arms thrown around your body as he whines and begs for you to spend some more time with him. You remain firm in your decisions to leave him though, giving him no other choice besides stalking you. He can’t help but develop a passionate hatred against your town though as he views them as oppressors who hinder your art.
💥Soon that hatred turns into a twisted idea. Why doesn’t he free you from your shackles? Both of you could create wonderful art together. Enraptured by this idea and his sick delusion convincing him that you’ll show him only gratitude for it, he starts scattering his clay bombs everywhere within the village. He even gifts some of them to people in the village under the disguise of them being only sculptures. That same night he excitedly drags you up a hill further away from the village with a huge grin on his face. He has something amazing to show you. As soon as both of you have climbed the hill, he uses the abilities he had gained since becoming a vampire to activate all the bombs. You can only watch in horror, Deidara only in ecstasy as every bomb goes off. The sight of your tears confuses Deidara, a frown on his face as his palms try to wipe them away yet new ones keep on flowing down your face. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Through your tears you catch a glimpse of his sharp fangs and suddenly freeze in shock. What now? Oh, that’s right… He totally forgot to tell you that he is a vampire.
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sstardustt3 · 1 month
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Star yaps abt what would i do from falsettos
(copy and pasted from her school paper…)
Over the course of the year I’ve had many obsessions (ranging through days to months) and my current one being from June, Falsettos by William Finn and by extension entire Marvin trilogy. If I could explain why I love this musical and all my thoughts on it I would but today I would like to focus on one in particular “what would I do?” The final of the song (or second depending on if you count Falsettoland reprise as a song).
The song begins after Jason’s bar mitzah; where whizzer after thanking Jason turns away and goes limp. From there he is carried off and the hospital room is stripped away and it is just Marvin alone standing in the same position to reflect.
Now this shot alone says so much. The set of falsettos is made mostly out of grey foam blocks that are made to represent Marvin’s mind state and I think by having everything stripped away shows how Marvin is mentally. He’s alone, he hasn’t moved on from where he was when whizzer died, he can’t. And for the audience it helps set in stone the reality of the situation and it stings.
In the religion of Judaism (which I’m not Jewish but the characters are so I think it’s important to mention but again I may be wrong ) it says that everyone, both good and bad gets what they deserve in the end. Even with that ideology he still feels robbed, and that whizzer died young and unfairly.
According to the World national heath organization people would die only weeks or months from their diagnosis. Assuming that whizzer died closer to the weeks mark it would’ve made less time to really grasp the situation even more so that AIDS wasn’t something with a lot of information. There was no real explanation to the violent death that killed his lover.
A very important fact is that whizzer is Marvin’s first real love. Marvin’s main issue and arch in the trilogy is that he can’t figure out love properly. He tries to love his sweetheart, but only ends up putting her on a pedestal and neglecting her. He thinks he loves ms. Goldberg but only an idealized version of her. He tries to learn to love Trina romantically but can’t bring himself to and ends up neglecting her. Whizzer is the first person he truly loves.
So he wonders to himself if he was never in his life, what would happen? Who would he blame everything that happened on? Whizzer states that he ruined the life Marvin had. Which is technically true.
If Marvin had never met whizzer he wouldn’t have cheated and he wouldn’t have gotten a divorce. If he never got a divorce Trina wouldn’t have went to Mendel (Marvin’s therapist) and they wouldn’t have gotten engaged. If Trina and Mendel never got engaged then Marvin wouldn’t have hit Trina in a fit of rage and hit her in front of Jason and he wouldn’t have seen how wrong he has been and how much he is hurting everyone around him especially Jason who he cares most about and been pushed to change.
Whizzer, who comes out later in this song about halfway through as what I believe to be a further representation of Marvin’s mental state; asks if Marvin regrets the time he spent with him and all he went through to hold him and Marvin says if he could he’d do it again. Which is in reference to a song earlier “love is blind” where at the end Marvin speaks on his of love. That it being messy and dysfunctional and something to never even consider doing over again and it shows how much Marvin has really grown and learned that love doesn’t have to be toxic and painful.
Another thing to be noted is that whizzer comes out in a white button up and brown pants like he had on at the start of act 1 except the shirt is white and not green. What I think this is meant to show is that Marvin is slowly forgetting details about whizzer which supports the idea that most people agree on that Marvin also has aids and dies soon after the ending since memory loss is a symptom of dementia which sometimes a result of aids.
Going back to an earlier point of Marvin and his grief he asks himself how could he move on? How could he face the future without him? Especially knowing that he’d most likely die the same way whizzer did. He wishes whizzer was there with him which is why whizzer shows up halfway through. He wishes whizzer was there with him to live a much longer life and talk to him. Whizzer died young and unfairly and so will he and they’ll never have the chance to better themselves.
The song closes with Marvin recognizing that there are no definitive answers and all he can do is wonder what could have been.
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lalal-99 · 7 months
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of new friendship {h.j.} | track 3
©June 2023, March 2024 by lalal-99
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Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 3.8k
Synopsis: The one where you go to a Jackson Wang party.
Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings
Note: As promised, this chapter is much shorter than the last. The next will, again, have 6k, but after that, chapters will be shorter (I think). Also, I wrote the most angsty and heartbreaking chapter yesterday and I can't wait to post it when it's due. Hope you enjoy this :)
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You couldn’t remember the last party you had been to.
A real party, with crates of alcohol, loud music, and drunk people, that was.
Throughout your early teen years it had been a regular part of your week. Getting drunk, befriending strangers and making mistakes. You left no party within reach unattended, no matter the people or their willingness to provide alcohol to minors. You had figured out ways to always get what you wanted in the end. And what you wanted at that time was to drink away any and every one of your brain cells.
With a little luck it would be the very one that made you remember the grief of losing a parent.
Whenever you told people about those days, it was as an explanation to why you rarely drank now. Most people also thought Jisung had helped you overcome that part of your life. It would have fit right into their version of a romantic love story—girl sad, girl meets boy, boy fixes girl. Happy end.
Most people couldn’t have been more wrong.
Jisung, like yourself, was plagued by his very own share of suffocating pain. And he too wanted to forget, desperately. In meeting you, he found someone who was right as troubled, maybe even more so. Thus, a toxic relationship formed, the two of you soon becoming the life of every party you attended.
Any party you went to, you became the centre of. Be it a friend’s party, a friend’s sibling’s party, or a stranger’s party one of your mutual friends had heard about god-knows-where. Surrounded by a crowd of people, both your age and older, you became the main source of entertainment. Making people laugh and providing them with memories they wouldn’t forget. Because which other two 14-year-olds could keg-stand and funnel like grown-ups?
You weren’t proud of it, but at the same time, it was as much part of your story as everything before and after. The darkest part, filled with pain, rage, and the simple desire to forget, yes. But a part never less.
Those times were long gone; life had caught up to you at some point.
Despite your party-animal-past, a shiver ran down your back when the frat house appeared on the horizon.
People gathered on the porch, on the stairs leading up to it, and on the lawn, smoking, drinking, and making out. Whatever stereotypical frat-party scenario you could have come up with played out right in front of your eyes.
You lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold. Unsure how to approach the evening or if you even still wanted to. Hadn’t it been for Yuqi taking matters into her own two hands and dragging you inside... Well, you would have turned around and chosen the safety of your room instead.
Your partying days sure had passed.
When you entered the house, a thick veil of warmth and sweat hit you, a breath of nausea taking over your being. A sea of people was stumbling from room to room, up the stairs or towards you, in a desperate search for fresh air. If you planned on staying here for the next few hours, you’d need a drink. Or five.
Yuqi turned towards you, excitement evident on her face, “Wanna look for Jisung?”
“Drinks first!” you yelled back, her nod telling you she had understood. Surprising, seeing someone had cranked the bass right up to 11.
With your hand in hers, Yuqi pulled you through the crowd until you reached the kitchen. It was less crowded than the rest of the house, meaning you had a safe haven you could come to if things got too much. Judging from the tension in your back not even five minutes in, you’d need it at some point.
You didn’t pay too much attention to the people around you. The couple making out on the counter or the group chatting on the other side of the room. Instead, your gaze focused on the beers in the ice-filled sink. A sigh of relief escaped you as the cold, bitter liquid ran down your throat. The first half of the bottle, you emptied in that initial gulp.
You must have needed this more than you noticed.
“Impressive,” Yuqi praised you, her lips wrapping around her own bottle for a less eager sip. “Remind me never to face you in a drink-off.”
“Trust me, my drink-off days are far behind me.”
Your voice startled one of the people standing by the side, a familiar face snapping towards you. “Y/N?”
You found Hwasa leaning against the counter, a surprised expression taking over her features.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Your roomie had told you she’d be going out tonight too. Although you hadn’t expected her to be at the same party you had been dragged into. Pulling you into a hug, a few of her locks tickled your nose. “Jisung got invited by an old friend.”
“And you brought my new favourite person! Hi!” Hwasa greeted Yuqi with another bone-crushing hug. To an outsider, it must have looked like you hadn’t seen each other for years rather than yesterday.
“Don’t call me your favourite person, or I will cry.”
The smile on Yuqi’s face spread from one ear to the other as she let go of your roommate. After a few shorts hours spent with her, she had opened up to you about how difficult it usually was for her to make friends. Similar to Jisung, her quirky persona more times than not scared people off. Befriending not one but two people within the first week on campus, her happiness was understandable.
“So, who’s the mystery friend that invited you here? Wait, don’t tell me! I’m gonna guess. Is it Chris? He knows, like, everyone.” You shook your head, never having heard that name in your life. Scratching her chin with two perfectly manicured fingernails, Hwasa pondered. “Matthew? He’s been around for a while.” Again, you didn’t know who she was talking about.
This game could have taken forever. There were about 300 people who could have invited you, judging from the crowd inside this house. Though the fun was cut short when the door to the kitchen opened, and a familiar face entered the scene. Just like you remembered, he was followed by a crowd of eager people. Ever the centre of everything.
“No way! Am I dreaming? Y/N! I can’t believe you came.”
You startled when he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him with reluctance. You hadn’t seen him in over two years, and this was how he decided to greet you? A hug? Thinking about it, you had probably hugged him only a handful of times in your lifetime. Your birthday, maybe. Or Christmas.
“Hi, Jackson.”
He let go of you, momentarily staying in your proximity before stepping back.
He looked good, face clean-shaven and hair pulled back by a baseball cap. His clothes told the same story they always did. Rich guy with swagger, Gucci earrings somehow accentuating his baggy clothing. Jackson, for all you remembered, had always dressed like this. Drenching his aura in handsome.
“How is everyone? How’s the fam?”
“Everyone is perfect. Healthy, happy.”
Despite your best efforts to sound nonchalant, you couldn’t help the undertone of spite. Jackson seemed to understand the secret message, nodding as his lips pressed into a thin line.
You wanted to be nice to him as you were aware he was a good person at heart. But after everything, you couldn’t help being a little bitter still.
Hwasa—oblivious to a fault—interrupted the awkward shift this conversation had taken and you silently thanked the heavens. “You know each other?”
“What? You do, too?” Jackson replied, pointing between the two of you, ever the Spiderman-meme. “How?”
“We’re roommates.”
Emptying your first bottle, you pulled a second one out of the sink, opening it on the marble of the kitchen island. A party trick from back in your heyday you never quite unlearned.
“What? That’s crazy!” Jackson seemed genuinely surprised. He pulled his baseball cap off his head and repositioned it over a few loose strands. “Small world.”
“How about you?” you threw the question back to them.
“We’re—” Jackson cut himself off, eyes meeting Hwasa’s as they toasted their bottles. A quick wink, and he finished his contextually unbelievable description of their relationship. “Friends.”
Hwasa choked on her drink, laughing at his words as if it was the funniest thing she had heard all year. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
You remembered Yuqi, who was leaning against the counter beside you, perfectly quiet as she listened. Probably the quietest you had seen her since you met her. And that included the courses you visited together.
“Fine. We used to hook up. Happy?” Jackson corrected his previous statement. The wink he had sent Hwasa made way more sense now.
“Almost. You seem to have forgotten the part in which you fell hopelessly in love with me.”
Your eyes focused on the two of them. Could Hwasa be the girl? No way! That would have been too big of a coincidence.
“Okay, you are blowing that way out of proportion.” Chuckling at her words, Jackson positioned himself so that he was now facing her. “I had a little crush on you.”
“Exactly. What I said.”
Huffing, Jackson shook his head, pulling Hwasa into a side hug of sorts. Good thing Wheein wasn’t around to witness this flirtatious moment. Her absence explained why Hwasa even let someone come close to her like this. Her girlfriend’s presence seemed to put her a little on edge. Like Hwasa was in constant hope she wouldn’t do something to offend Wheein. Or, God forbid, make her think she was anything but faithful.
“We broke things off, and now—”
“We’re besties,” Hwasa ended his statement, patting his chest as they smiled at each other.
It couldn’t have been silent for more than five seconds before Jackson unwrapped his arm from his bestie. He fetched himself a fresh bottle out of the sink.
“Anyways,” throwing you and Yuqi a kind smile, Jackson turned to his friends. They were still gathered behind him, talking over each other with loud laughter. “It was nice seeing you again. I hope you and Sungie have a great night. Let me know if you need anything.”
Making his way out of the room, he left you to yourselves, sipping on your bottle like you hadn’t just emptied the last one. “Good luck finding him if you need anything. Jackson won’t be in the same room for longer than a minute.”
There was no need to tell you that.
At every party he had ever thrown, Jackson had always been nowhere and everywhere, all at once. You distinctly remembered searching for an hour once before eventually finding him where you had started. How he did it, no idea, but he sure was a pro at it.
“Let me get back to my friends. I’ll see you later?”
Nodding, you turned towards Yuqi, who had about 100 questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. The second you were on your own, she erupted like a waterfall.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” As if she would buy that. There was no way you didn’t know what she was talking about. Your body language had been very see-through throughout that whole interaction. Arms crossed, lips tight, brows cocked.
“Don’t play me, bitch!” A term of endearment, you had learned. “There was so much tension, I thought I was in Riverdale for a sec.”
You laughed at her words, shaking your head. “I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
“Alright.” Yuqi accepted, but not before getting at least one last statement out in the open. “He’s smoking hot, but whatever he did to you, I would not want to be him.”
The two of you left the kitchen on a seemingly impossible quest to find your boyfriend. You forced your way through the crowd until you reached a less dense section of the room. Only then you noticed a group of people a little further back, right by a window.
You motioned for Yuqi to follow you as you approached the couches. Your boyfriend’s mop of brown hair remained the centre of your vision.
Jisung was deep in conversation with a boy beside him while Felix listened to them. Apart from them, a handful of other boys spread over the couches. The ones that didn’t fit, sat comfortable on chairs. Seeing Jisung in a sea of people he didn’t know, talking like it’s all he was born to do, you almost didn’t want to intrude.
“Bro! Babe Alert!”
The boy next to Jisung was the first to notice you approaching. It took a lot in you to push your amusement at his obliviousness down.
As Jisung’s head followed his friend’s gaze, he gasped out a loud “Yah!” before giving the boy next to him a slap against the bulky arm.
“Dude, that’s my girlfriend.”
“Oops.”
All eyes were on you as you waved at the group. You introduced yourself while sitting on the armrest beside your boyfriend. Yuqi joined your other side, and introduced herself before leaning against you.
“I’m happy you’re here,” Jisung confessed, hand coming to your thigh, squeezing it in adoration.
“You are?”
When you looked at Jisung, you noticed the guy beside him, eyes threatening to bulk out of their sockets. Staring at Yuqi, no less. After a few seconds, he realised he’d been caught and blushed. By pulling Felix into a conversation, he hoped to cover up his interest in your friend.
The girl in question was too deep in her interaction with one of the boys on the chairs to notice. He soon offered her half of his seat, which she accepted while discussing his choice of—footwear? She really seemed to know her way around the closet.
“Yes. Because someone didn’t believe you were real.” Jisung’s eyes darted towards a boy on the other couch whose blonde tresses were pulled into a loose ponytail. “What do you say now, Hyunjin? My hot girlfriend is real.”
“That’s how you describe me to people? Hot?” You didn’t know whether to be mad or flattered.
“Just so we’re clear,” the boy, Hyunjin, chimed in, “it wasn’t the hot part I didn’t believe. It was the whole concept of a girlfriend I was questioning. But you are real, apparently. So I owe Felix ten bucks.”
Laughing at Hyunjin’s cluelessness, your boyfriend couldn’t hide his amusement. “Felix already met her, stupid! You got pranked good, dude.”
Hyunjin’s jaw was on the floor at the new discovery, gaze dramatically cutting to the boy in question.
As the two of them exchanged money and ridicule, you caressed Jisung’s thigh in adoration. A sense of pride filled you at how he had somehow already found a way out of his shell. University seemed to have a positive impact on him, the first week progressing smoother than you had anticipated. Regardless of how he made so many friends this early on, you were glad he did.
“So, who are your friends?”
Gaze wandering through the circle, Jisung introduced the boys one after another. Starting from the one sitting next to Yuqi.
“That’s Seungmin. He’s an English major.”
The boy conversed with Yuqi as though they had known each other for years. He had puppy-brown hair, parted in the middle and cut even on all sides in a fashionable bowl-cut. Two strands of light-blonde framed his face, rounding off an otherwise innocent appearance. His clothes were simple, t-shirt and cargo pants hanging loose on his lean shape.
“Next to him is Jeongin. He’s studying to become—something biology. Honestly, I didn’t understand what he does. It’s all about mitochondria and other boring stuff.”
A little more on the shy side, Jeongin followed Seungmin and Yuqi’s dialogue instead of creating his own. Like Seungmin, he clothed casual. Standing out was his thick pink hair, which contrasted his initial timid demeanour. A something-biology student with pink hair? Very eye-catching.
“On the couch, that’s Hyunjin, Minho and Chris. Hyunjin is studying art history, and Minho majors in dancing. Chris is a Music major.”
Hyunjin, the one who got pranked out of ten bucks—by Felix, out of all people—was clad in a more fashionable outfit. His grey jeans he had paired with a white button-up, a multitude of jewellery decorating his fingers and neck. Minho wore his hair in a lavender tone, a tight-fitting shirt and black leather pants. Showing off his very toned legs—a dancer, indeed. And Chris. Well, he liked his arms the size of logs, apparently. They were an unexpected contrast to his cutesy laugh, nose scrunching up as he joked with Minho.
“And the boy who can’t keep his eyes off Yuqi, that’s Changbin. Sports major. If you tell him your weight, he will send you a video of him benching it.”
“Yah, I don’t do that for just anyone. Consider yourself lucky,” Changbin interjected. Thankfully, he had only overheard the second part of Jisung’s description.
Ignoring his friend’s words, Jisung concluded his introductory round. “And you already know Felix. He’s studying to become the best teacher in the whole wide world.”
Felix ignored the mocking tone in his friend’s voice, only one of the reasons rendering him perfect for a teaching position. He stood calm whenever needed, not a word taken out of proportion. That much you had already learned from hanging out with him a handful of times. It wasn’t hard to believe, he handled children the same way he did his drunk friends.
“I’m glad you have so many friends with majors now. Maybe, they can help you decide on yours.”
Rolling his eyes at the subject you somehow couldn’t let go, Jisung pulled you from the armrest onto his lap. A tiny yelp escaped your throat, his action surprising. The two of you usually didn’t exchange PDA like that. His advances, therefore, you understood as a sign of the amount of alcohol he had already consumed.
“You will never let this go, will you?”
“Not until I know you’re not just going to university because I’m going.”
You had been gifted with so much drive to go to uni, study, become a manager. Sometimes, you forgot that some people weren’t as lucky to know what they wanted to do with their lives. Your boyfriend was one of those people.
Sure Jisung had hobbies like singing, sports and the occasional guitar session. But other than that, he was pretty clueless about his future. The two of you used to joke about it. Kidding how all the ambition and focus had gone to his sister and once he was born, there was nothing left of it. An innocent joke for as long as it hadn’t been reality.
Now that you were here and for the months leading up to your move, the joke was underlined with more seriousness.
For the longest time, Jisung hadn’t been sure he even wanted to go to university. He had debated going to work right away. Learn something handy, like electric work or nursing. That he didn’t even know a direction to go in didn’t make the decision any easier. In the end, he figured that while you were studying to go into management, he might as well join you. If anything, it could potentially give him an overview of possible fields of work.
After many discussions about your joined future and his role in it, he seemed to be over it. He wanted to explore his options—that’s what he had told you when you two enrolled. And yes, you were proud of him for getting his grades up in the last year of High School. Even if only to share this adventure with you. Though you still needed him to be a little more serious about it. Otherwise, university was four years of him exploring, ending in no degree. Four years wasted, in your eyes.
“I just want to make sure you’re thinking about it.”
“Right now, the only thing I’m thinking about, is taking you to one of the empty bedrooms upstairs.”
His breath fanned over your neck as he whispered into your ear. Goosebumps rose all over your skin, his fingers gracing over your exposed hip. You hadn’t even noticed how your shirt had ridden up before his careful touch. Repositioning yourself to sit sideways on his lap, you bit your lip at his suggestion. Your hand came around his neck, fingers running through the hair at the back of it.
“We just got here,” you chuckled as his arms wrapped around your thighs.
“So?”
“Let’s enjoy the party for a bit, yeah?” Jisung knew a final decision when he heard one, a pout overtaking his face. Good thing you had already taken measures to soften the blow. Years of being with each other gave you the confidence to play your plan as you intended. “I might know a way to make the wait worth our while.”
You smirked as you retrieved a round object from your pocket and pushed it into Jisung’s hand on your thigh. A kiss to his cheek concealed your action, his eyes widening once he realised what you had handed him. A remote control. And not just any old remote control. Connecting the dots, Jisung soon understood that it controlled the matching vibrator inside you. The very same one you had bought for his most recent birthday.
Happy Birthday, indeed, and to both of you.
Judging from his expression, you figured your plan to make his patience worthwhile erected the awaited reaction. Then again, that could have also been him pocking you from below.
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Saving my Angel
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PAIRING | Chris Evans x Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 6.2K
SUMMARY | You are in a toxic relationship with your boyfriend, and even though he's always there for you, Chris can't take it much longer to see you like this. When your boyfriend makes you cut all ties to him, Chris will do everything in his power to make sure you'll get safely to the other side.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Major angst, toxic (ex)boyfriend, abusive (ex)boyfriend against Reader, extreme physical violence used against Reader & Chris, swearing, very degrading talk against Reader, multiple badly broken bones.
A/N | This was a very difficult one to write, but I want everyone who is currently going through it to know, that there is help if you need it. You are stronger than you know, and you will get through this! To everyone who has gone through it, I am so sorry that you had to, but I am so proud of you for making it to the other side 🖤
Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist
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''I'm sorry Chris, but I can't do this any longer. I think it's for the best if we don't see each other. If we don't have any contact at all actually,'' you say, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill onto your cheekbones and into your neck. All Chris could do was look at you with a pained look, he was well aware it wasn't your choice to do this, your boyfriend set you up to do this. ''It was an honor to be your friend,'' you say before turning around and walking back to your boyfriend, who was waiting in the car for you to get back. He couldn't believe it, you didn't deserve to be treated like this, nobody did. But especially you, his best friend. The woman he loved more than anyone in this world, you didn't deserve to be treated like trash, because you were the most perfect human being in his eyes. His angel didn't deserve to be treated like that, by someone worth less than nothing.
''I told him, are you happy now?'' you say to Luke, your boyfriend, with a snarky tone. This immediately earned you a slap across your face, making you gasp in both pain and fear. ''Why the fuck do you think you can talk to me like that? You should be thanking me for making you do this, he was trying to take you away from me. And what do I get as a thank you?'' he spat the words out and landed another slap on your face, making the tears that threatened to spill earlier now stream down your face. You didn't want to do this, but he forced you to. He threatened your parents if you didn't do what he said, so you went along with his wishes and told Chris you didn't want to see him anymore. You just ruined a nearly 30-year relationship in a matter of minutes, and that hurt more than anything Luke could ever do to you.
Chris was looking at what happened and saw you getting slapped by the asshole you call your boyfriend. Every bone in his body was aching to do something, but he knew that if he did, he would only make it worse, and he didn't want that to happen to you. He flinched the second time he hit you, and quickly turned around, so he could let his tears flow without anyone seeing. ''I'm so sorry, Angel...'' he whispers to nothing, his tears now falling down his cheeks. ''I'm sorry I couldn't do more to protect you...'' and he sat down on his couch, grabbing his phone, without unlocking it. On his lock screen was a photo of the two of you at the premiere of Captain America: The First Avenger. The two of you looked so incredibly happy in that moment, and he thinks back to all the fond memories you have, like the moments you came to visit him on set whenever you had the chance. All of his costars took an immediate liking to you, just like he had almost 3 decades ago. All of that was gone within a matter of minutes.
Luke quickly pulled the car away from the curb, but that didn't stop you from seeing Chris' face before he left, you saw the hurt in his eyes and knew he witnessed all of it. Your cheek was throbbing and burning from the pain, when you were home you would just get some ice to get the swelling down. ''I can't believe you're such an ungrateful bitch, I just did you a fucking favor!'' he yelled at you, and you looked out your window, not wanting to face him now. You were well aware this couldn't go on any longer this way, but you were also too afraid to do something about it, so you stayed with him to keep him happy. Just like the last 4 years, you stayed with him to make sure he wouldn't hurt you, but it would only get worse and worse.
The relationship started perfectly fine, nothing overly crazy or anything like that. The two of you met at your old job and were working together frequently. During this time, you two grew fond of each other and started a relationship. It seemed like a perfect relationship on the outside, but what no one knew is that after about 6 months, everything completely turned around. He started getting mad faster, swearing more and calling you ungrateful. About 6 more months after that he started to get physically abusive, grabbing your bicep and squeezing if you didn't do what he wanted, hitting you in your face, ribs, on your legs, everywhere he could reach, and eventually that led to getting slapped in the face too. When all that still wasn't enough for him, he made you stop seeing your family and friends, and as a last effort today, he made you stop seeing Chris, the person you leaned on most when it got too much.
Now, you have absolutely nothing left. Nowhere to go, no one to talk to. Luke took everything away from you, and somehow it would never be enough for him. A few tears escape your eyes, and you pray that he won't notice, it would usually end badly for you when he saw you cry after what he did to you. God, you needed Chris now, but that wouldn't be an option anymore. He would be someone in your past now, a chapter you would always look back on with fond memories. But no new ones would be formed, not with him. From now on, he was out of your life, because of your boyfriend's jealousy. Nothing ever happened between you and Chris, but that didn't sink in with him, he was positive you were cheating on him with Chris. But you would never do that to anyone, not even after everything he had done to you.
~ The night Chris came to your rescue ~
''I can't fucking believe you, Y/N, why would you do this to me?!'' Luke yelled at you, for the umpteenth time, yet you didn't know what you did wrong. ''Why the fuck would you go to his house, when I told you you weren't allowed to go there?'' he spat the words in your face, ending it with a hard slap across the face, to emphasize his point. ''I-, I don't know,'' is all you could manage to say before he pulled you up from the couch and squeezed your arm until you could feel the bones in your underarm snap, making you scream out in agony. ''That is what you deserve for being such a whore, you're nothing more than a cheap fucking whore,'' he said with a chuckle and a grin on his face. He was enjoying this way too much. He pushed you away and you fell to the floor, trying to scramble away but there wasn't much space for you to go.
''Where does my fucking whore think she's going? You have nowhere to go, do you? Such a lonely little bitch you are. Good, because you are right where you need to be,'' he said with a layer of disgust laced throughout his words. He wanted you all for himself, do whatever he wanted to you whenever he wanted. When you said no, he had reached his breaking point, and so did most of your bones. He kicked you multiple times in the ribs, and the scream you let out wasn't even human anymore, the sound of more bones cracking ringing through your head. ''I- I'm sorry...'' you said sobbing, feeling pain everywhere at once, barely able to breathe. He wasn't done with you yet and put his foot with a heavy boot on it on your leg, making sure you couldn't walk away from him. When the bone snapped, you screamed another animalistic groan, right before the door was barged in by the police.
Luke tried to run away, but he didn't stand a single chance of going away. When he got dragged away he managed to get in more kick towards you, landing on your jaw, breaking it too. By now, the pain was so overwhelming you were unconscious, but there was a medical team helping you on a gurney, before taking you to the hospital. The police found your wallet and your ID, making sure they knew who they were bringing into the hospital. The ride there wasn't pretty, you lost a lot of blood, and all of the breaks were very nasty. At the hospital, you were immediately rushed into emergency surgery, so they could get you fixed up as much as would be possible at that point, but they already knew you were going to need multiple surgeries. One of the nurses called your emergency contact, and that person was at the hospital in less than 20 minutes. Chris would always show up when you needed him most.
''My name is Chris Evans, I'm here for Y/N Y/L/N, I got called because I'm her emergency contact,'' he tells the man behind the front desk, and he looks up some information. ''She's in surgery right now, but you can wait in the waiting room. As soon as we have more information, a doctor will come and find you,'' he said, pointing him towards the waiting area of the emergency room. The first surgery took about 6 hours and didn't exactly go according to plan, you coded a few times and lost a lot of blood, but for now, you were stable and alive. That's all Chris could care about right now, he wanted his Angel to be alive. When the doctor told him what had happened, and how you were doing, he couldn't help but start crying. By the time you were back in your room and settled for a little bit, he was allowed in and he started sobbing next to you. ''Oh my fucking god, Angel, what did he do to you?!'' he said between sobs, taking your hand softly into his, giving it a soft kiss to show him you were safe now, he was with you.
When you were finally coming back to consciousness, Chris was sleeping by your side, so you squeezed his hand a little to show him you were awake. He didn't sleep all that deep, so he woke up almost instantly. ''Angel, you're alive...'' is all he could get out before tears were streaming down his face out of pure relief. He was extremely grateful his Angel was still alive, his best friend made it to the other side. ''I came as soon as they called me, Luke is currently locked up. Your neighbors called the cops and I'm glad they did, otherwise, I might not have you here right now,'' he explained. You felt tears welling up in your eyes, you were eternally grateful for your neighbors, that they dared to call even though they were well aware of what Luke was capable of. You tried to talk but you had your mouth wired shut, to help your broken jaw.
''Don't talk Angel, they had to wire your jaw shut, he broke your bottom jaw, so for it to heal properly they had to do that. You also have both the bones in your right lower arm broken, as well as 5 ribs, and your tibia is broken too. He did a number on you this time, and I wish I was there to stop him this time...'' he said, but all you could do is put your hand on his and look at him. You wanted to tell him you would be okay, you wanted to tell him how much you love him, but he knew. Chris knew damn well how you felt about him. ''I love you, Angel, I always have and always will,'' he said before getting up and placing a small kiss on your forehead, signifying to you that it will be okay now that he's here with you. ''When you're allowed to go home, I will take you to my house, so you can recover with both me and Dodger. You don't ever have to go back to your apartment, I promise,'' he said. But he knew it was one he wouldn't be able to keep, not as long as Luke would be free once more.
After a week in the hospital, you were finally allowed to go home, after being carefully instructed how to take care of yourself, but it would be Chris who would be doing most of the caring for you. ''Ready to go home, Angel?'' he asks and gives you a look full of adoration, proud of how well you're doing in your recovery so far. You nod slowly and Chris pushes your wheelchair out of the room and thanks all the nurses for the good care they gave you. When he wheeled you out of the hospital, you got tears in your eyes, the realization of what happened finally dawning on you a little bit. Chris notices you tensing up a little, and puts his hand on your shoulder, showing you he's still there. This simple gesture makes you lose the battle against your tears as they slowly slide down your face and onto your neck. He keeps walking you to his car, when you're there he places the wheelchair in such a way that he can help you get in.
When the wheelchair is on its brakes, Chris opened the car door and went to your side, going to pick you up. ''I'm so sorry Angel, but I'm going to have to pick you up and it's probably going to hurt. Try and hook your arm around my neck and I'll try to be as careful as possible,'' and he wasn't lying. It did hurt, making you whine out pretty loud at the pain, and your face scrunches at the feeling of his arms on your body. ''I'm so so sorry, I am...'' he said when he put you down. When you were buckled in he started folding the wheelchair and put it in the trunk of his car, so you could use it again at home whenever you needed it. When he sat down at the driver's side of the car, he looked at you and you were just looking out your window, not wanting to be reminded what happened, but you wouldn't be able to escape it. You would never be able to escape what Luke did to you. Chris drove the both of you to his house and helped you out of his car and into your wheelchair. At this moment you were extremely grateful his house didn't have steps in front of his door, unlike yours. He could just wheel you into the house.
''Hey Dodger, we have to be very careful with Y/N for a while, buddy!'' he said as the dog came running up to them, shortly followed by Scott, who has been taking care of him for the last week when Chris was with you in the hospital. ''Oh fuck, it's even worse than I thought...'' Scott whispered when he saw you, and you saw the pained look on his face. All you did was nod a little, you couldn't do much else. Dodger walked slowly up to you and wanted to get some love, so you extended the hand that you could still use, softly petting him on his head. You were grateful for all three of the boys currently standing around you, wanting to help you wherever they could. ''I got it from here, Scott,'' Chris said and he said goodbye to his brother, thanking him again for looking after Dodger. He wished you a good recovery before walking out the door. ''I had Scott set up a bed in the living room, so you don't have to go up and down the stairs to sleep,'' he said, wheeling you to it. You signaled you wanted to lay down for a while, and he softly helped you into the bed, pulling on his sleeve notifying you wanted Chris to lay with you for a while and soon Dodger joined as well. You hadn't slept so well in years as you did now.
~ The night something shifted within you ~
''Luke?'' you started, asking for your boyfriend's attention. He hummed notifying me he was listening. ''Ava just asked if I wanted to go to the club with her and Isabelle,'' you say, showing him the message she just send you. ''Can I go?'' you ask, feeling stupid about the fact that you asked him permission to do something, but you didn't want to not do it, the consequences would be worse than the last time you ended up in the hospital. ''Where are you going? And who else is coming?'' he asked, always wanting to know where you were and with who. Sometimes he'd even show up unannounced to make sure you weren't lying to him. You never were, but it still made you feel very worthless some nights. As if you couldn't take care of yourself, but he always argued he did it for your safety, ''I'm just looking out for you sweetheart, it's for your own good,'' he would say. And at some point, you almost started to believe him. Almost. ''We're going to Joe's Pub, and I'll just be going with Ava and Isabelle. We're going for a few drinks, nothing more. I'll be home before midnight,'' you say to him. ''Okay, you can go, but you better not be meeting someone else while you're out there!'' he said with some anger laced in his voice.
You texted them you were in, and changed into a dress you knew Luke would approve of, he bought it for you after all. You picked out your floral, short sleeve dress and paired it with a pair of black Converse, simple jewelry, and minimal make-up. You looked perfectly fine for a few drinks with friends, and you showed your outfit to Luke, who approved. ''Looking beautiful, sweetheart,'' he said as he gave you a soft kiss on the lips. You didn't kiss him back, but he didn't seem to notice. Ever since he picked you up from Chris' house a year ago, it hadn't been the same between the two of you. Both Chris and Luke got into a huge argument, and it turned physical when Luke swung his fist toward Chris. Luckily you were able to pull the pair apart, but not without getting a few more punches yourself in the process. After this, you went with Luke, since you didn't have a choice. You didn't want him to hurt you, but even more, you didn't want Chris to get hurt. You had convinced yourself you deserved everything he did to you, but not Chris. He didn't need to be dragged into this.
When it was time to go out the door and towards Joe's Pub, you called an Uber and Luke walked to the car with you, making sure the Uber Driver is taking you where you said you were going. But he already knew you were going to check up on you later, he didn't trust you not to go meet with another guy when you're there. ''Have fun sweetheart, and don't drink too much!'' he said in a mocking tone before the Uber drove off. It was a short ride to the pub, and once you arrived you found both Ava and Isabelle already there. You hugged them, happy to see both of them again after not being outside the house alone for a few months. Usually, Luke came everywhere with you, never letting you go nowadays, so you were glad he did let you go alone, although you had the suspicion he would turn up later tonight like he used to do. You got drinks for all three of you and when you were waiting at the bar, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
''Looking gorgeous tonight, Angel!'' Chris said with a deep voice and you quickly turned around to face him. You extended your arms to hug him, and he happily hugged you back, you haven't seen him in a while since he was away to film another movie for a couple of months. ''Oh my god, you're back!'' you say excitedly and can't believe he's here, right now with you. ''How was filming?'' you ask and he tells you it went well, but it wasn't the same without you there on set. ''Everyone on set missed you, you know. They asked if you would be coming to visit, but I told them you were busy with work...'' he said, and you heard the sadness in his voice. Usually, you loved to come to visit him and his friends on set, especially when he was filming Marvel movies. ''I'm sorry, I couldn't-'' is all you said, but he knew what you were going to say. Luke wouldn't have allowed you to see him on set. Chris was well aware of the way he thought about him, especially since the night the two of them had the fight when he came to get you from his house. ''It's okay, angel. It isn't your fault,'' he said.
''Put her drinks on my tab, please,'' he told the bartender when you were going to pay for them. ''Chris, you don't have to do that!'' you said, but he didn't want to hear it. ''It's my treat, to celebrate your night out without him for once,'' he said with a wink. You thank him and walked back to your friends, who were looking with slack jaws at the fact that you just hugged Chris fucking Evans. ''DID YOU JUST-'' ''YOU KNOW CHRIS EVANS?!'' they both said at the same time. You have told them about your friend named Chris, just never that it was him. You were used to the fact that he was famous, but you knew him since you were kids, so it wasn't weird for you. ''Oh yeah. I'm used to it, I've known him since we were kids,'' you said and shrugged it off. The girls, however, would not let it go. ''Could you maybe introduce us to him? Can we ask him for an autograph or a selfie?'' They asked both very excited. This is something you would never get used to however, this is exactly why you didn't tell them you were friends with him. With a sigh, you told them you would see what you could do, and you looked around the pub trying to find him.
Eventually, you found him in the back of the pub at a table with Scott, Carly, and Shanna, which you all haven't seen in forever. When Chris saw you he immediately waved you over to the table. ''Oh my god you guys, I missed you all so much!'' you exclaimed when you saw his siblings and there were a lot of hugs exchanged. Scott hugged you just a little tighter and longer, especially after seeing what Luke had done after you came back from the hospital. ''It's good to see you again, Squeak,'' and you heard the worry throughout his voice. ''Scott, I'm okay, I promise,'' you said before letting go. ''Did you want to join us? You're more than welcome to, you know,'' Chris offered, but you said you were here with your friends. ''Speaking of them, they wanted to know if I could ask you for a favor, but it's okay if you say no. They want to know if they could maybe get a selfie with you or an autograph since they found out I'm friends with you,'' you said, a little bit of outrage through your tone. You hated asking this of him, but you also probably knew he would say yes. ''Of course Angel, anything for you,'' he said and he got up. ''I promise I'll bring him back to you soon. It was nice seeing you all again,'' you said before walking after Chris.
He found your friends and you practically saw them melt right then and there when he talked to them. He took a selfie with both of them and he signed both their phone cases, after getting a sharpie from the bartender. ''Thank you so much, you're amazing!'' they said at the same time, and you couldn't help but laugh at it. ''I'll see you later, Angel,'' Chris said and kissed you on the cheek, but he would regret that immediately. ''WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY GIRL? Didn't I tell you to stay the fuck away from her, you asshole?!'' Luke said before shoving Chris away from you. ''Luke, don't-'' is all you said before he slapped you square across the face, and this made Chris see white, instantly swinging himself towards Luke, and punching him wherever he could reach. The fight really got out of hand and Scott finally managed to pull Chris off of Luke with 2 bartenders, and Luke was pulled away by 3 other customers. The last bartender called 911, saying they needed police and an ambulance over at the bar. When they arrived both Luke and Chris were taken into police custody, but released soon after.
Tonight's events shifted something inside you, you had the realization this couldn't go on like this any longer. ''What the fuck were you thinking?!'' you yelled at Luke and started crying, you couldn't believe he is such a horrible person. You found a glass vase and threw it at his head, you were so angry you didn't care anymore. This was a huge mistake, since Luke grabbed your arm and broke the bones again, just like the last time, but he didn't let you go to the hospital. He made you swear right then and there that you would break every form of contact with Chris. ''I can't fucking believe you would cheat on me with that asshole,'' he said, but you didn't have it in you to argue anymore. ''I'm sorry,'' is all you could get out, sounding broken. You didn't have it in you to fight, so you decided to do whatever he wanted, so you wouldn't get hurt again. When he took you to Chris' house a few days later, you walked to his door with lead in your shoes. You knew you were going to throw away a 30-year friendship over a toxic relationship. And even though you knew how wrong it was, you couldn't stop yourself, he would kill you if you did.
~ The night you won the battle ~
Not being able to talk to Chris was killing you inside. Luke made you block his phone number, and his e-mail account, and you had to block him on every single social media account you had. Everywhere you went, Luke went with you. You had to start working from home because you couldn't hide your bruises, your wounds, and your broken bones from your colleagues. This meant you were completely cooped up in your apartment every second and every minute of every day. Even though you did exactly what Luke wanted you to, it still wasn't enough, and you just couldn't give anymore. Your breaking point was officially reached after 5 years of this abuse. After not speaking to or seeing Chris for over a year. You knew he wouldn't forget about you, just like you never forgot him, but it still hurts that you dragged him into your mess. And you were both paying for it. Because Chris never stopped looking out for you, even though he didn't get to see you anymore. He knew you went to your mailbox every single afternoon at the same time now, and he slipped a letter in there one day. Don't let him find this is all it said on the front in Chris' handwriting, and you hid the letter when you walked back up to the apartment. You handed him all the letters, so he could see who you received letters from and about what.
That night, when you went to the bathroom when Luke was watching tv, you found the letter that you hid on your bedside table, where he wouldn't find it. You softly opened it, and when you saw the words on the page, you couldn't stop the tears from falling.
My Angel,
I want to let you know that I miss you deeply, not being able to talk to you hurts me so much. I miss your smile, your laugh, and the way the lines around your eyes crinkle every time you laugh at one of my stupid jokes. I miss your hugs, I miss your voice, and I miss the way you can make me laugh without even trying. But most of all, I miss your love. I miss you, Angel. I want you to know that I am doing in my power to get you out of the situation you're in because this isn't healthy for you. You never deserved to be treated like this.
On the bottom of this letter is a phone number I want you to rip off and remember. If you ever get the chance to call it, I will be there to answer it, no matter what. It is specially reserved for you, so I will be there whenever you need me. I will come and save you, no matter where I am or what time it is. I love you, and I will always be there for you.
For now, I need you to hold on just a little longer. I miss you, and I will see you soon again, my Angel.
Love,
Your Bubba.
Knowing that Chris would still want to help you no matter what gave you the strength to stand up to Luke once and for all. You ripped the letter up in small pieces and flushed it down the toilet so Luke would never find it, and you walked into the living room, ready to confront him. ''This needs to stop,'' you say and gesture between you and him. ''What the fuck are you talking about?'' he sneered at you. ''The way you treat me, Luke. This is stopping now because I'm not a fucking toy you can play with when it suits you, and throw me away when you're done with me,'' and it felt so good to finally tell him how you feel. All of these years you pushed it away, but Chris' letter made you snap out of it. You were stupid for going along with it all this time. All the pain, all the broken bones, all the violence, and the isolation. That was the worst of it all. ''You fucking hurt me every chance you got, and it has to stop!'' you yell at him and tears start to flow. ''I never deserved to be treated like this, hell, you never even deserved ME,'' you spat out as you started throwing stuff at his head. All your anger coming out all at once.
When you heard sirens coming closer, you knew your neighbors called the cops again, and you were thankful, because you don't know how much longer you could do this. But something inside you had shifted a long time ago, and it would finally be over. You would be free, and the thought of that is what kept you going. The thought of seeing Chris again is what kept you going all this time. ''You're such a stupid bitch, you know that?'' Luke said laughing and he launched himself towards you, but he didn't get far before the police kicked down the door and got a hold of him. When they got him you sank to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably at the fact that it is finally over. This chapter in your life is finally done. You were officially free, and you couldn't believe it. It was still so unreal, but you couldn't stop sobbing right now. When a female police officer sat down next to you, you leaned into her and she softly held you in her arms, letting you get out every single emotion you need to. ''C-Can I b-borrow your p-phone? I- I need to call s-someone,'' you stutter out and she agreed.
Quickly you punched in the number Chris gave you, and within 3 rings he picked up. ''Angel, are you okay?'' Chris said worried. ''It's over, Bubba, he's gone,'' is all you said before you burst out in uncontrollable sobs again. Chris was currently away to film another movie in LA, but that didn't matter. You needed him most, so he took the first flight out to Boston, to you. When the police officers left, your neighbors - Max and Stella - took you in, and took care of you after everything. They called the cops, and have always been there for you. ''We're so sorry all of this happened, Y/N. You never deserved any of it,'' Max said, while Stella was soothing you. For the past few days, you never stopped crying, even though the police updated you and said Luke would be going to prison for good. You were incredibly relieved, but the one thing that was still missing was your best friend. He was all you needed right now. Not even 24 hours later, he stood in front of your door, knocking on it.
''Angel, are you in there? Are you safe?'' he kept banging on the door, and Stella went to him. ''I assume you're here for Y/N?'' she asked. ''Do you know where she is?'' he asked, tears welling up in his eyes. ''She's safe, and she is with us. We live next door, we were the ones to call the cops a few nights ago and she has been staying with us ever since,'' she explained, and Chris let out a huge sigh of relief. ''Can I see her...?'' he asked, and she led him to their apartment. ''Y/N? There is someone here to see you,'' is all she said, and Chris stepped out from behind her. ''Bubba? You came...?'' you said, tears still flowing down your cheeks at a steady pace. ''You called, so, of course, I'm here. I'm here to save my Angel as I promised,'' and you quickly ran to him and into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. ''I- I-'' is what you could say, but Chris knew exactly what you were going to say. ''You don't need to apologize, Angel, you're safe with me now. It's not your fault, I promise,'' he said and the two of you stood there for a good while, but neither Max nor Stella minded. They saw how much you needed him, and they let the two of you be.
''Did you want to stay here, or do you want to stay at my place?'' Chris asked you. ''As much as I love it here, I think I'm gonna stay with you for a while,'' you said with a little smile, you already felt like enough of a bother towards Max and Stella the last few days. ''I can not thank both of you enough for taking me in and taking care of me. I am deeply grateful for both of you and even though I probably won't see you guys again, I want you to know that it meant the world to have you two as my neighbors,'' you said and gave each one of them a big hug as a thank you. ''We understand, Y/N, we're just glad you finally got out of that place,'' Max said, and after saying your last goodbyes, you went back to your apartment to get most of your clothing and other important stuff, before leaving for good. Everything else is stuff you didn't want or need, and someone else could take care of it, you never wanted to set foot in that place again.
When you were back at Chris' house, you found that Scott, Carly, Shanna, and Lisa were all there, welcoming you back after everything that happened. After more than 30 years, you were part of their family now. ''I love all of you guys so much,'' you said as you grabbed every single one of them for a big hug, not letting go for several minutes with each of them. They all stayed over for dinner and everyone watched a movie afterwards. You cuddled up to Chris, and none of them mentioned it. The two of you were always close, but they were also well aware you just needed to be with him right now. ''Thank you again for saving me, Chris,'' you whispered, and Chris got a small smile on his lips. ''Anything for you, my Angel,''. You fell asleep during the movie and Chris didn't move you, not even when everyone went home. The two of you stayed right there on that couch until the morning, when Dodger jumped onto the couch and into your lap, waking you up. ''Hi Dodge, I missed you too,'' you said and Chris was very happy right now. His best friend was back, and he would never let anything happen to you ever again.
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sleepingdeath-light · 3 months
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yandere hcs ; loki laufeyson
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requested by ; nobody / self indulgent
fandom(s) ; marvel
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; loki laufeyson
outline ; “general yandere hcs for loki”
warning(s) ; yandere!loki laufeyson, kidnapping, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, taking advantage of class divide to control the reader, physical violence, gaslighting, manipulation, isolation, controlling behaviour, implied murder
catching the eye of the god of mischief himself is pretty much guaranteed to bring you some sort of trouble whether his interest in you is genuine or born from a place of toxic infatuation and obsession — the only difference is that the latter is sure to bring you much more pain, trauma, and isolation than the former as once you’ve become this jotün’s obsession there’s no chance of you slipping through his fingers and escaping for good unless he’s already dead by the time you leave
… and even then, even after verifying through countless avenues that he’s truly gone and it’s not just another of his tricks, you’ll still spend the rest of your life running from his memory and seeing parts of him in the people you meet, leaving you completely paranoid and untrusting of anyone else, and thus truly alone in his absence (just as he’d planned)
he’s not above kidnapping you if you refuse to accept him as your beloved — earlier in life, before his attempted take over of midgard, this would have taken the form of an ‘arranged’ marriage wherein he used his status to force your family to give you up without too much of a fight, while later on in his life he’s much more likely to just outright take you and lock you up in the castle until you’re too broken to fight him and are starting to show some signs of stockholm syndrome (he’s not above using complete isolation to make you dependent on him if it comes to that, but really he’s much rather you come to him willingly if he has the option)
being known for his silver tongue across the nine realms, it goes without saying that loki is nothing short of a master of manipulation — using just the right ratio of outright lies, gaslighting, emotional blackmail, and magical trickery to isolate you from your loved ones and push you further and further into his arms
maybe he’ll build up a friendship with you and establish a level of trust before feeding you these lies under the guise of a concerned companion, maybe he’ll shift into your loved ones and use illusions to have you find out these false-truths on your own, but either way you’ll be left with no other option but to turn to loki for comfort and reassurance — he’s the only one left now, he’s the only one you need, and now that there’s less competition for your affections and attention he’s going to slowly start taking steps to court you
(as unhealthy as his feelings for you may be, loki was still raised to be a gentleman and once he’s gotten rid of his rivals he’s going to treat his future spouse with all the respect and reverence that he was raised to have)
and if you happen to be an asgardian citizen as opposed to some random midgardian he fell for? well then he’s certainly not above leveraging his status as your prince and one of your gods to get you under his thumb — alternating between presenting himself as an altruistic figure that knows what’s best for you by merit of his title and age in order to get you to be more receptive to his manipulations, and guilting you for being so doubting and avoidant of him because he’s going so far out of his way to help a peasant like you so really you should be thanking him for all he’s done (don’t you know how many of your peers would kill to have his attention like you do? don’t you know how lucky you are? don’t worry, loki is a patient god and he’ll help you understand)
loki doesn’t enjoy punishing you, but when you keep on acting out and being defiant you leave him no choice but to punish you in whatever way he deems fitting of the offence — usually he’ll just isolate you in a dark prison cell away from everyone else so that he’s the only person you see during your imprisonment (he’s the only one who visits you, feeds you, and speaks to you, and otherwise you’re left only with that dark empty room and your thoughts for company) and he’ll only let you out when you start showing signs of accepting and even craving his company. for particularly severe offences he has been known to strike you, but he hates having to do so and will apologise profusely afterwards as he cleans and tends to your wound (this is only done as a last resort for something like repeated attempts to escape or attempting to cheat on him, and it usually only takes one instance for you to learn your lesson… he may be weaker than his brother but loki is still a god in his own right and more than capable of causing you real damage if he wants to)
(these more physical punishments, while extremely rare and always followed by apologies and efforts to make it up to you, aren’t usually planned and are more the result of loki’s anxiety and fear getting the best of him which results in him physically harming you)
this goes without saying for a yandere version of loki, but unless the offender is his own drunken sibling he will torture and kill anyone who tries to meddle in your relationship — he’s lighter on others in the earlier stages of your relationship, such as your friends and family, but once you’re fully under his thumb he becomes much more possessive and much quicker to violent bouts of jealousy (and also much more likely to reward you for doing things to enforce your loyalty to him as your husband)
he’s extremely controlling and you’ll barely be left with any room to breathe once you’ve accepted your fate and are finally allowed to live with him in his quarter of the palace — everything from your appearance to your diet to the minutiae of your daily routine is decided by him with little to no room for adaptation or alteration unless you’re actively too unwell or injured to follow his decided schedule for you (and heaven forbid you talk to someone without permission or want to have a bath that’s hotter or colder than your permitted temperature, because then you’ll be subjected to the scolding of a lifetime and the staff assigned to your care will be punished in your place)
if he can help it, loki prefers to stick close to your side during the day — not letting you out of his sight for longer than the time it takes you to go to the bathroom, or for him to retrieve some object or another at your request — and when he’s in your company he proves himself to be nothing short of a gentleman in his efforts to make you more comfortable and to help you get used to your new role as his spouse
(of course your relationship is still nowhere near healthy or equal or right, but at the very least you won’t ever have to worry about being able to survive or losing yourself and your personality in addition to losing your freedom to him — he adores you for the person you are, after all, and what kind of husband would he be if he didn’t set aside time for you to do the things you love? … just so long as your hobbies and interests don’t involve you interacting with any individuals he doesn’t approve of without him being present, that is)
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