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pedroshotwifey · 2 days

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To the Flame chapter 16

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 3k

Chapter warnings: mentions of physical abuse, talk of suicide, manipulation, mental abuse, description of injury, controlling behavior, comfort, crying, javi being a dick, javi being "nice", reader being ✨delulu✨, idek how to tag this shit anymore, i think i might be gaslighting myself 💀

Chapter Summary: You get a glimpse of the man you used to know while you try to sort out your feelings in the hospital. You're faced with a tough decision---did you make the right one?

A/N: Don't know what to say about this one. Yes, we all want to scream at reader, yes, we all want to scream at Javi. Scream at me if you'd like and I'll happily scream back 😭 Love you babes!

******

You’re not dead, but you really wish you were. Your body aches more heavily than it ever has. Every breath you take is a massive effort and every twitch of your fingers sends a twinge through your entire body like a shock of electricity. You don’t know what’s easier—breathing deeply or taking in shallow breaths. Deeper means that your chest has to rise and fall painfully with the movement, but shallower makes you feel like you're not getting an efficient amount of air. You don’t want to decide, so you just lay on the kitchen floor and let your body do it for you.

You don’t think Javi’s here with you, but you honestly could care less if he is or not. All you have to do is turn your head and look around, but you don’t think that’s possible for you right now. You can feel the way your throat has swollen and would pull tight if you tried. You just want to lay with your pain for a while and let it consume you so you don’t have to think. Though your head pounds painfully, it’s the clearest it’s been for weeks. You know you’ll have to get up at some point, but that point is not now.

You can feel every organ individually, the way they struggle to work with every second that passes. Your lungs heave and sputter as you try to suck breath into them, and you’re suddenly curious to how they’re working at all. There’s no way for you to tell how long you were out or how much water you consumed, but you can only assume it was close to your limit. You thought you were going to die, you really did.

You have no idea how long you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, before you hear the click of the door opening, then several sets of footsteps making their way inside. Their voices are muffled by the staticy noise in your head, and you frankly don’t care enough to try to figure out what’s going on.

Javi’s blurry figure comes first, leaning over you as more people crowd in.

“Sweetheart?”

His dampened voice sounds panicked. You couldn’t give less of a fuck. You know that you’re probably going to be fine at this point, but you almost wish that you weren’t just to spite him. Suddenly, the light comes on, and your head starts to pound even harder. You close your eyes.

***** When you open them again, you’re in a bed. Not yours, though, you can tell immediately. There’s daylight in the unfamiliar room coming from the window on the other side. So you know you’ve been out for a while.

It takes a moment for you to remember what happened—why you’re probably here. And it’s with that realization that the pain returns. It’s more dull this time, immediately making you thankful for whatever meds they have you on. Just the underlying tightness throughout your body is enough for that.

You blink and look around a bit, trying to scan your surroundings without moving too much. But when you spot the chair in the corner closest to you—who’s sitting in it—your adrenaline spikes. Javi sits up out of the chair as soon as he sees your eyes open and on him. He moves to the side of your bed and your body jerks away from him on instinct.

“Get away from me,” you bite, though your voice is so strained it’s nearly incomprehensible.

You can see hurt flash in his eyes for a split second, but it’s quickly replaced by anger. You don’t have time to dwell on that short moment of vulnerability before he has his hands on you, trying to hold you steady as you thrash and try to yell for help. He knows you won’t be able to muster up enough noise to be heard.

“Fuckin’ stop and listen to me,” he spits, and you do, letting your body go limp before it gets any worse. You lay there and look him in the eye as silent tears sting your cheeks.

“You’re going to tell them you tried to kill yourself,” he says calmly. You don’t realize you started shaking your head until he grabs your chin and stills you. “You’re going to say you couldn’t handle the stress of the move and you tried to drown yourself in the sink when I got home and found you.”

You say nothing, because you know there’s no point. Why waste your breath and hurt your throat even more?

“You tied a scarf around your neck, attached it to a weight, and threw it into the sink.”

Oh, God. It makes you want to throw up, how elaborate his lie is. That would explain the bruising on your neck. He thought of everything, covered every track. You know you must be looking at him with pure disgust, but you don’t dare change your expression. You want him to see you, what he’s done to you, how he’s made you feel.

There’s suddenly a knock at the door, and Javi’s expression changes to something almost tender. The hand tightly gripping your face moves to cup your cheek, the other to pet your hair. You feel panic and frustration crawling under your skin, consuming your body until you think you might scream. This is your chance to get away from him, but you know you won’t.

All you have to do is tell the doctor you want to speak alone, tell them what’s happening, and you’ll never have to go back. But what if he didn’t believe you and you only make it worse for yourself? Or worse than that, what if he does, and you’re taken away from Javi. Exactly what you want, but also the last thing you can ever imagine happening. He’s still there, you can’t leave him. He’s still there.

So, even as it crushes your soul and makes your heart jump wildly in your chest, you say nothing as Javi calls for the doctor to come in, and a man in a white coat steps inside with a clipboard. He smiles at you, his eyes full of so much pity that it makes you swallow.

“Glad to see you up, honey. We were real worried for a second there.”

You say nothing, just watch the doctor as Javi continues to stroke your hair, then places a kiss on your head and backs away for the man to check on you. He comes to your bedside, opposite of your husband, and places his hand on your forehead.

“Still no fever,” he mumbles to himself, jotting something down on his clipboard. He brings a hand to your neck next, lightly pressing on the skin there with three fingers. He grimaces slightly. “Throat’s still very bruised and swollen. How bad does it hurt when I touch it here?”

He moves his hand up and places his fingers on a spot right under your jaw and to the left, putting a small amount of pressure there. You try not to flinch. It’s not a lot of weight at all, but it hurts like hell. You can only guess that’s where most of the bruising ended up.

“Hurts,” you rasp. The doctor puts his lips into a thin line and brings his hand back away. He writes something down and then sets the clipboard on the nightstand.

“How long have I been here?” you question, voice barely a whisper.

“You’ve been in and out for about forty-eight hours now,” the doctor tells you, glancing at his watch. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember it, you weren’t very cognizant.”

You nod, resisting the urge to look at Javi. Instead, you let your head lay back on the pillow and inspect the water-stained ceiling tile above your bed.

“When will she be cleared to come home?” Javi asks from where he’s sat in the chair.

The man sighs contemplatively. “If all her vitals stay about the same as they are now for the next few hours, hopefully tonight. We would like to have somebody come talk to her to see where she’s at mentally first, since you’ve said that you work and she stays home. We don’t need her trying something like this again while she’s alone.”

“I can take time off,” comes Javi’s quick reply, making something twist in your stomach. If you weren’t so mentally exhausted, you might be surprised about that. He had told you before that it was hard for him to just take days off. Though you suppose it would make sense for him to be able to request time for a family emergency.

“I think that would be best, but we’re still going to have someone in to talk. We need to assess her cognitive functions as much as we need to make sure she’s not planning anything drastic.”

Even though you’re not looking at him, you know Javi’s jaw is clenched. You know he’s smart enough to hold his tongue to not give himself away, even though he wants to protest more. He doesn’t trust what you might say while you’re alone, and frankly, you don’t either.

“Can he stay in the room with me?” you croak.

There’s a beat of silence as you look back to the doctor. He looks at you, then to Javi, then back to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk alone? The social worker we have on staff is very—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off. “I want him here.”

There’s a sickening sense of betrayal coming from yourself as you decide your fate. You don’t know why you’re doing this, but you do. It hurts your head to try to decode what you’re thinking half the time these days.

The man watches you for a few seconds, obviously trying to gauge how much of a mistake it would be to let you make this decision. “If that’s what makes you comfortable, we can do that.”

There’s a wave of relief as Javi leans forward slightly to cover your hand with his.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he comforts. You visibly relax, letting your body slumping down into the mattress. You let yourself zone out for a bit while Javi and the doctor talk for a minute more, just savoring the warmth of Javi’s hand touching you so gently, so caring. You know you have his approval right now, and it feels so good to bask in it.

You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep when the doctor leaves, trying to have Javi like this for as long as you can. You’re transported back to one of the first dates you went on with him, leaning up to him in his truck, his free hand over yours as it is now. The smiles you exchanged, the kisses, the laughs. It hurts so fucking bad. To think you’ll never have that again.

Tears trickle from your shut eyes, a quiet sob leaving your lips even as you try to contain it.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Javi consoles, genuine sympathy in his voice. It makes you want to cry more. You open your eyes and Javi gets up from the chair, coming to the bed as you begin to sob. You don’t know how to explain to him the grief you’re feeling over him when he’s right there, but you don’t have to. You sit up the best you can and he cups your chin again, watching you tenderly with furrowed brows.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos before tucking your head to his chest. “I’ve got you. Get it all out.”

And you do, you wrap your arms around him and cry into his chest until you can feel his shirt soaking your cheek. You shake and heave and clench the fabric until your tears go thin and start to burn your skin.

He’s patient with you, holding you the entire time, whispering reassurances and rubbing your back, holding your head to him. It feels like your Javi. Yours. But it only makes you miss him more because you don’t know if it’s true. Don’t know if he’s snapped out of this awful trance that’s consumed him, or if he’s only here momentarily when you need him most. Either way, you let his care overwhelm you, let yourself drown in the affection.

****

It’s only when you open your swollen eyes a few hours later that you realize you’d cried yourself to sleep in his lap. You’re laying down now, Javi in the same spot he was the first time you woke up. There’s a woman in the room talking to him, but you’re too groggy to think about what they’re saying. More nonsense about your mental state, you’re sure.

And just like that, the love that had consumed you a few hours ago starts to fade. Your mental state. The carefully constructed lies you’re about to tell this woman. She turns to you when she sees you try to sit up, rushing to your side with a gentle smile.

“Careful, don’t want you straining anything,” she says, placing her hands on your arms to help you. You nod at her, still trying to wake back up. Your eyes hurt from crying and your head is throbbing again. You really don’t want to talk right now, but you know you have to if you want to get out of here.

“You know why I’m here?” the woman asks gently. Her name tag reads Chloe. She looks a bit older than you and has the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen. You decide you like her.

You nod, then realize it’s probably better to be verbal. “Yes,” you tell her.

She nods understandingly, rubbing your upper arm in a comforting motion. “I’ve been told you’d like your husband to stay in the room while we talk?”

You confirm again, glancing at Javi, who seems to still be in whatever state he was earlier.

“Alright, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, and then we’ll get you out of here. Sound good?”

You nod, swallowing the thickness in your throat. “You mind if I sit?” Chloe asks, gesturing to the side of your bed. You shake your head no and she makes herself comfortable, clipboard in her lap. She doesn’t even look at Javi, which relaxes you a bit. Her sole focus is you.

“I know it’s not going to be easy, but I promise to be patient. You can take all the time you need. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” you reply before you change your mind about doing this with Javi.

“Okay. Can you tell me how you tried to take your life last Friday? In as much detail as you’re comfortable with.”

You take a deep breath, force yourself to not look at your husband, and pray you don’t mess this up.

“I tried to drown myself,” you lie quietly. “I tied a scarf around my neck and attached it to a weight. Then I filled the sink with water—.” You have to pause, emotion hitting you hard all of a sudden. You blink and swallow the lump in your throat. “I filled the sink with water and threw the weight in.”

Chloe nods somberly, watching you with the same pitying look the doctor had earlier. “It’s okay to cry, honey. It’s a hard thing to talk about. You’re very brave for doing so.”

You listen to her, bowing your head and letting your tears overflow. They’re slower than the ones you’d cried with Javi. More quiet. They feel more like defeat than grief. Chloe writes something down and looks back at you.

“And why did you feel like that was the best way to achieve what you were trying to do?”

You bite your lip, contemplating for a second. “Because I knew it would work over everything else. I thought it would.”

She jots something down.

“There are no firearms in your house?”

“Only mine, and it stays on me all day,” Javi provides before you can say anything. Chloe whips her head around to him.

“Did I ask for your input?”

“No,” you say, before whatever just happened could escalate. The last thing you need right now is Javi getting angry. “Just his.”

She turns back to you, gentleness returning to her face. She again scribbles something down.

“Two more,” she tells you. “We’re almost done. You’re doing really well.”

You nod at her, giving her a small smile.

“Do you wish you had succeeded? Why or why not?”

You answer quickly, maybe a little too quickly. You hate the way you still feel like you’re lying when you tell her no. “I was just overwhelmed that night. I was lucky that Javi came home when he did.”

She nods, writes something down, and asks you the last one.

“You’re not going to try to take your life again?”

“I’m not. I don’t want to die.” It almost hurts to have to say it. You don’t even know if that’s true. You put on a brave face though, needing her to believe it even if you don’t.

She writes the last thing down and smiles at you. “Okay, I’m going to go talk to some staff and get you ready to go home. It was very nice to meet you. I hope things go well in your future.” She holds her hand out for you to shake, and you do.

“Thank you, it was nice to meet you, too,” you tell her honestly.

You wait to hear the click of the door before you look at Javi. He doesn’t look angry exactly, but you can tell he didn’t like Chloe at all. But he still nods approvingly at you, taking your hand again.

“You did good, sweetheart,” he says.

***** A couple of nurses come in about an hour later to take you out to Javi’s truck. They watch as he helps you in, waves his thanks, and gets in the driver’s side. You cuddle up next to him like you used to, and a calm feeling starts to ebb its way into you. He holds you tight the entire way back to the apartment, and after cooking you dinner, holds you tight as you fall asleep. This. This is why you stay.

*****

What are we thinkin'? 👀

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frickingnerd · 1 day

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i’ll lie & you'll believe it

pairing: sayaka maizono x gn!yandere!reader

summary: sayaka ends up kidnapped by an obsessive fan of hers. but is that really that bad…?

“you're just as pretty in person as you are on tv…”

your fingers gently traced over sayaka's face. lifting up her chin, running a thumb over her bottom lip and softly caressing her cheek. you had dreamed of this for so long. and sayaka was every bit as perfect as you had imagined.

“p-please… don't hurt me…”

sayaka whispered underneath her breath. she didn't dare move. she had been still ever since you put those chains on her. she really was as obedient as you had always imagined. even if those teary eyes were annoying you a little…

“hurting you is the last thing i'd do. you know that! i love you, sayaka! and you love me too, don't you?”

you smiled at sayaka, eagerly awaiting her answer. but she didn't reply. she just sat there, as still and stiff as those figures you owned of her.

“DON'T YOU–!?”

you raised your voice, causing sayaka to flinch, before breaking out into tears. immediately, you regretted your actions, panicking a little. you wrapped your arms around sayaka, trying to comfort her again.

“i-i'm sorry–! i just lost my temper, i didn't mean it… please, i can't take it when you cry! smile for me again, sayaka. you're so pretty when you smile… p-please…”

sayaka quietly sobbed in your arms. she didn't dare move again. she was clearly frightened and you hated seeing her like this. why couldn't she see that you were harmless? that you'd never hurt her! sure, you kidnapped her and locked her away, but that was out of love!

“sayaka, please forgive me… i-i'll do anything if you stop crying… please please please…”

slowly, her sobbing stopped. you carefully pulled away from her again, eagerly awaiting her to tell you that everything was alright. to smile at you again. or at least tell you what you could to make her happy…

“i want those cuffs off…”

sayaka mumbled, raising her cuffed hands.

“you know i can't do that. you'll run away.” you sighed. “let me do something else for you, please. anything but taking off the cuffs”

sayaka remained silent. you could see she was thinking and you hoped this could be a request you could fulfill her.

“then… proof to me that you truly love me”

her request caught you off guard.

“y-yes, i do! i mean, i'll do it, of course–! just tell me how i can do it and–”

“there's someone i want you to get rid of for me…”

you thought you didn't hear right. your precious, innocent sayaka wanted you to kill someone for her. if she wanted someone dead, they must be a truly vile person.

“tell me all about them! i-i promise, i'll kill anyone you want for you, if it means you'll trust me and believe that i truly love you!”

a small smile hushed over sayaka's lips. so quickly, that you could barely even pick up on it.

getting you to do her dirty work really was too easy. sayaka might've been the ones in chains, yet she still held control of this situation. you weren't a threat to her. if anything, she was a threat to you!

but you were too blinded by your love for sayaka, to realize that she had let this all happen, for this very moment. so her hands stayed clean, while you did the killing for her. so that she'd be saved once you were caught and could play the victim.

why else was it so easy for you to kidnap her, if not for sayaka wanting to end up here?

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