Manon Bannerman x fem!reader
Synopsis: you and your friend decide to cross the line into a toxic, heart aching situationship. During an argument she confesses and makes things worse than they’ve ever been.
Chat im depending on making this a series but also some things just need to be one and done…idk if this gets a lot of attention I’ll turn it into a series 😭🙏
Contains: angst. Cursing. Drug use (weed), short fic, toxic situationship. Heartbroken Manon. Arguing. A bit of violence. A reader that’s hella toxic but Manon is more toxic..🤫
You and Manon sat across each other, hand in hand. A blunt resting between her index and middle like it just belonged, the hot red tip lit the dim room. Smoke dragged across the roof.
You stared at her, laughter falling from your lips as a thought popped into your head.
“You look like—like th-those moms at the beginning of those movies.” You stammered, inching your hand away from hers. Her eyes were low and blood red as she stared at you with utmost confusion.
“Girl, what?” She laughed, her head tilting. “You know! The movies where the mom dies and the dad is left yearning for years and shit.”
She giggled, bringing the blunt to her lips, inhaling the blunt like a weed addicted vampire. Her eyes glued to yours.
“Mhm!” She hummed, urging you to come closer. You knew what she wanted without her having to say a word.
You inched closer and her hands found the side of your fac pulling you closer until she was satisfied. Her lips parted slightly, smoking drifting out, you inhaled it perfectly.
“We’ve done better.” She muttered, her voice soft as she handed you the blunt ignoring the burning in her cheeks and the slick bliss that filled her heart.
“We’ve been better.” You whispered to yourself. You were insanely mad at the curly haired woman but you tried to hide the fury that was unfortunately written on your face.
“Puff, puff.” She grinned, dragging out her words. Clearly unaware of what you just said.
“Chillax,” you joked, taking a drag.
“I remember when we first met.” She murmured.
“I remember how nervous I was. You were like the cutest person I had seen since I stepped foot in this country.” She confessed, the words began flowing out her mouth.
Her head rested on your lap and her hands toyed with your belt. You looked at her with disgust, you just couldn’t handle her right now—not with the anger that built up in your lungs like mucus.
“You feeling alright, Meret?” You asked swallowing the god awful taste of bitter hatred. You stared down at the curly haired woman, her doe eyes staring right back at you and they sparkled brighter than any star you had ever seen.
She stared at you like you carried the world on your back, yet it felt so performative.
“Pretty girl,” you murmured, caressing her cheek. “My pretty girl,” you tried, yet it didn’t feel right.
Her eyes shined brightly, cheeks buzzing with a light shade of red. “Huh?” She sat up slightly.
“Was that wrong to say?” You asked, your voice softening.
“You never say anything wrong.” She mumbled, her eyes glancing around the decorated living room that was completely you.
You took another long drag before putting out the blunt inside the ashtray Manon made for you during a pottery class. The ashtray plus the class—one she took for the purpose of gifting you this ashtray—costed her so much money.
The ashtray was perfect though. A pinkish purple hibiscus flower, something that made you feel full besides smoking.
You’d strap a parachute around it and throw it out the window in case of a fire and let yourself burn. Would she do the same for anything you had ever given her?
“You cool?” You asked to which she nodded, sitting up and wrapping her arms around your neck.
“Let’s go out on the balcony.” You said, sick of the weed filled apartment and the closeness of the non sober girl.
You sat up from your brown leather couch, embracing her hand as you helped her up and led her to the balcony.
The stars were every color of the rainbow: red, blue and purple.
She leaned over on you, her eyes watching your lips while your eyes watched the moon lit sky. She was so intoxicated by your presence—to her it was better than drugs.
Yet, you couldn’t find it in you to feel the same—Manon was an notorious liar, she lied to you about stupid shit that you always told her to just be honest about, and she just couldn’t.
She lied about not seeing anyone else when in fact she was seeing twenty other people, mostly men. You always said you didn’t care if she talked to anyone else but twenty different people, how could you even compete with twenty people?
You couldn’t fucking stand how much she lied, you fucking hated it.
How she claimed she liked you so much when she was seeing other people, lots of people.
“I know you’re still mad.” She muttered, her voice drained of any hint of happiness.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Look, I stopped talking to all of them, they mean—“
“Meret, I don’t give a fuck! Do you hear me? A single fuck about those bitch ass boys you were entertaining while in my fucking bed,” you scolded, jabbing your finger in her side, her body flinched away.
Anger spat from your lips, your veins piercing through your skin. “I care about how you lie to me about so much stupid shit. Like, you choose to hide your phone instead of just being straight up.”
She hung her head, listening as you scolded her for the seventh time since the incident happened. You explained time over again that you didn’t care about who she entertained, yet she knew the truth.
“You know? It’s like how? How? How can you fuck that many people?“
“Then come to my house and say that you want to turn this into something serious.”
“So-so me talking to a few people because you won’t take me seriously is the reason you won’t take me serious? What the fuck.”
You sighed, inching away. “I don’t want to get serious with you because you’re a fucking known liar and slut, Meret.”
She scoffed, rubbing her eyes. “We’ve been arguing about this bullshit since last night—when you went through my phone—which, by the way, has your birthday as the password and your face as the lock screen.”
“So you want me to oo and ah at the bare minimum?”
“My face is the lock screen of your phone, I can watch you get fucked by boys with tiny dicks, yip yip hoo fucking ray!” You said with sarcasm dripping from your tongue.
Her face twisted and twitched with disgust and disbelief. The bliss she had just felt was overshadowed by reality that you were a pain in her ass.
“You’re a jealous bastard.”
“Watch your fucking mouth, girl.” You warned, jabbing your hand into her chest.
When you were a bitch, when you put your hands on her, slapping her, pushing her, she took it because she knew you didn’t know how to express yourself without violence.
“God, just say that you’re jealous!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Two words, two! You send me paragraphs with two thousand words, I know you can say two words.”
“I am everything but jealous, Meret.” Her first name always rolled off your tongue with anger, pure hatred at times.
“God, you’re so.” She murmured, her face falling into the palms of her hands, a loud sigh exiting her mouth.
“I only lie because you make me feel like I have to.” She says.
“Yeah, blame your mistakes on me, perfect.”
“Why don’t you want to be with me? Besides the lying, why? Because I know it’s not just the lying.”
You bit your lip, glancing at your shaky hands. You were tired, too tired to keep yelling and screaming.
“I don’t know anymore, Meret. I just don’t want you to lie to me anymore.” Your voice cracked embarrassing as you spoke, like you were a teenaged boy.
Manon stood in silence, leaning against the railing. Listening as the city spoke for the two of you. The city hummed with sadness and pain. The air began tasting like endings.
She turned to you, her eyes were filled with a mixture of desire and fear. “I love you.” It came out quieter than she had wanted, so quiet the wind almost swallowed it but you heard.
You didn’t flinch. You just stared past her, like the words were dropping straight through the cracks of the concrete below.
She repeated it like a prayer, loud and firm.
You snapped out from your daze, the words flew from her mouth so rapidly and heavy, it felt like she was punching you with them.
“I hate you.” You murmured.
“I love you.” She murmured back.
You shook your head, your anger spattered out, spilling between you two. “You’re a fucking liar, Meret. Why would I ever believe that bullshit?” You shouted, raising your arms.
“You put me through hell! You put me through fucking mental hell. You ask why I don’t want to be with you and it’s because you act like a fucking little kid.”
“So, no. Fuck that I love you shit. Because I hate you and you hate me just as fucking much.”
“Because I lie? I lie to you a few times and now I treat you like you mean nothing?” She scoffed, stepping back. Her eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion.
“I hate you! I fucking hate you.”
Now you were the liar. How things could change..
