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sterifels-blog · 16 days ago

Note

Last night I had a thought about Simon but I'm not creative enough to come up with a good scenario, so I'll just skip ahead.

Imagine that Simon and Reader had a thing for 1 or 2 months but they never ended up dating, and then Simon disappears and doesn't respond to Reader's messages. A while later Johnny takes Simon and Kylie to spend the week at his house after a mission and there Simon discovers that Reader is Johnny's younger sister, and that the 1 year and 7 month old boy who is very attached to her is actually his son. As if Reader looks a lot like Johnny but her son is identical to Simon.

Feel free to ignore this 👀 Any language errors are Google Translate's fault. Either way I'll spend days thinking about this 🤸‍♀️

this is definitely not a prompt i'd usually cover, but i'll attempt it nonetheless. i had such a hard time trying to conceptualize what an appropriate reaction to this sort of situation would be, but there are so many different ways to validate a reaction. this is the best take i can offer you! ⤵️

A mess of things to fix.

Simon had never imagined that he would be standing in Johnny’s kitchen, staring at a child. A child that he couldn’t fathom, whose heartbeat was unmistakably his own, though he'd never had the chance to know him. The sticky summer heat of a mission’s aftermath still clung to him, sticking to his body in cloying sheets of sweat and travel-worn leather. Simon was a contradiction in flesh: battle-hardened, skin soaked in salt and iron, and yet standing awkwardly in the glow of the kitchen’s overhead light, as if someone had poured an entire century's worth of regret down his throat.

And there you were— you— who had once been just the woman who had made his bones hum beneath the skin. A weekend, a couple of months… something like that. Something forgotten by time, but carved into the ether between you both like graffiti in an alley only the broken remembered.

You were Johnny's younger sister. Johnny, the one who'd so effortlessly pulled him into this twisted little family. But now? Now everything was mangled and unspooled.

His son.

He tried not to blink too hard when he first saw the boy. You were holding him, cradling him in your arms. The little thing was bundled in too many blankets, chubby cheeks peeking from under his small beanie, his large eyes a mirror of someone Simon had never really been sure he wanted to meet. But there they were, those eyes—those identical, goddamn eyes.

Simon didn't remember this. He didn’t even remember the night. But here, in Johnny’s kitchen, surrounded by mugs and heavy laughter that seemed too far off to touch, everything started to settle in his chest like lead.

You didn’t know how to look at him either. There was the hesitation—splayed, unsaid—heavy between you both. The moment when his presence meant more than just the passing shadow of the past. The truth had settled and clung to your face like old makeup. You didn’t want him to see, but you knew. He knew. He knew because his blood had turned to ice, and in his veins, a cold panic spread.

You had a child. His child.

Johnny, ever the oblivious one, smiled as if he didn’t see the earthquake unfolding. “She looks just like me, right? Gave her my best traits. Don’t let her tell you otherwise.”

But it was clear, wasn’t it? Your son. He looked like him, even if the years had stolen what could have been.

“What’s his name?” Simon’s voice was gravel, rough with an unfamiliar edge. He felt nauseous with the knowledge. He couldn’t escape it. The knowledge of a past he’d left behind, unspoken, unresolved, and now here it was—too real to ignore. His son.

You swallowed thickly, keeping the boy close to your side. You told him the name, and Simon didn’t even register the syllables. The truth was louder than any name could be.

"Charlie."

Johnny clapped Simon on the back, misinterpreting the silence. “Oi, mate, just don’t look too long at her kid. He’s already on a first-name basis with trouble, trust me. I’ve seen the future, and it’s got a lot of broken windows in it.”

Simon forced a smile. A bitter curve of his lips. “..Right.” The awkwardness slithered around the table like some beast with too many eyes. Conversation flitted, fragile and half-formed, until dinner had ended and the quiet remained, stretching longer than it should have. The little boy yawned, and it was cemented in the moment it was time for bed. Simon barely heard the clinking of silverware, until Johnny was cooing a cheeky goodnight to his nephew- re-stating that his "favorite uncle" would be there to see him in the morning.

You stood, giving him no choice but to follow. The weight of the moment anchored his feet to the floor like gravity had decided it needed a joke at his expense. As you ascended the staircase with the boy in your arms, Simon’s boots followed behind in a trance. There was something haunting in the way you moved, like a shadow threading through space, one that should’ve been broken long before this— one that felt like a single thread was holding it together.

He hovered by the doorframe of the child’s room as you placed him gently into the crib. The boy squirmed for a moment, settling into the warmth of his sheets, but his little fingers gripped at your sleeve, unwilling to release. Simon watched, his throat tightening like an iron clasp.

You turned to look- and for the first time that night, you made eye contact. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. The weight of the silence between you both felt like it had grown too heavy, and there, in the doorway, he lingered, as if you had just invited the storm into the room.

You couldn’t escape it any longer— the elephant sitting in the room had too many sharp edges. The question hovered between you, thick and suffocating. He was trying to push it back, but it was there, in his eyes, tangled with guilt and regret. Until, finally, he broke the silence.

"..Love. Can I… can I see him?" Simon’s voice cracked the air, raw and desperate, as if he had the right to ask something like that after all this time.

The words felt like they had shattered the air between you. There was an edge to them—like a plea wrapped in anger. He was furious, but at what? Himself? You? The situation? The fact that he was asking this, now—it made everything too complicated, too impossible.

It made your blood boil. Made your chest tight with a heat you couldn't contain. How dare he? How could he stand there and ask, knowing nothing? Knowing how many nights you’d spent alone, how many times you had to bite back tears, pretending you weren’t breaking under the weight of it all? You didn’t even tell him. You couldn’t. You hadn’t. And now, after all this time, after all the silence, he had the gall to ask for what was his—when he hadn’t been there to help raise him.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms, but you didn’t snap at him. You couldn’t. You didn’t know how to explain it— the hurt, the fury, the helplessness. He didn’t know. And you hadn’t given him the chance to.

You swallowed hard, biting your lip to keep your voice from shaking. "Yeah," you muttered, cold as ice, before stepping aside. The words stung like salt on an open wound, but they slipped from you, like a wave crashing over the rocks. You didn’t know if you could even trust yourself to speak. "Yeah.. Just— don't hurt him.."

Simon’s eyes softened— too late— and he stepped toward the crib slowly, uncertain, like the boy wasn’t his own flesh and blood. Like he had no right. But he was there. He was looking, and you couldn’t stop it.

You stood by the door, back against the frame, arms crossed, watching as he hesitated, before reaching down to lift Charlie, awkwardly at first, as if he were holding something breakable. It was almost a joke— the way Simon held him like he was a piece of glass, fragile and unworthy of the comfort the child had never known he needed from his father.

And then, like a dam breaking, Simon’s face crumpled, his shoulders shaking, and you saw it. The first tremor of realization, of loss, of guilt— flooding over him in waves too powerful to stop. His hands shook, the child still clutched tightly in his arms, and he cried. A tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another, each one a crack in the wall he’d built around himself, and your heart twisted.

The bitter taste of resentment clawed at your throat, but it was drowned out by the ache you’d been carrying for so long. For so, so long. Watching him finally hold Charlie— the son he’d never known— made something snap inside you, something raw and real. And though you were furious— though a part of you wanted to hate him, to blame him for everything that had been missing, you couldn’t. Not entirely.

The tears fell freely now, down his stubbled chin, mixing with the slow, shuddering breath that escaped his lips. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t even apologize in the right way, but you saw the regret in his eyes, and it twisted the knife a little deeper. He was sorry— more than he could ever express— but it was too late.

"You should’ve been here," you whispered, but Simon couldn’t hear you. He was lost in the weight of it all, too consumed by the moment, holding onto your son like he was the only thing left to hold onto in this shattered mess. He didn’t know how to fix it. Neither did you.

But you couldn’t take him back. Not like this. Not now.

And so, you let him hold him. And Simon wept.

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cherryblossompink303 · 3 months ago

Text

Patience: ~The twins fight!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: The twins get bored and decide to play around with the two girls of the host club and chaos breaks loose. ➼ what to expect: "I'd look out , for a moment there it sounded like you care" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Four | Part Six

"Let's Play the 'which one is Hikaru?' game" The twins chime out, introducing the game that they have played with the clients ever since the host club started.

"So? Can you tell which one of us is Hikaru?” the twins tease in unison.

“Well, it’s hard to say!”

“You’re identical!” The guests gush over the twins in awe.

“Many ladies have tried to tell us apart, but so far none have succeeded.” they wag their fingers in a demeaning fashion.

"That's the dumbest game i've ever heard" Haruhi comments, sat with you having coffee. "They've always done this, it is silly but the girls seem to like it" you shrug.

"You just don't like it because you never guess right y/n" Hikaru appears out of seemingly nowhere as if they heard you from across the room. "No, I never guess because you lie, statistically someone should guess right 50% of the time and yet they never do, I wonder why that is" You taunt, Kyoya chuckles from a nearby table.

The twins gasp dramatically in offence "We would never lie!" the two of them exclaim in unison. "You're jealous because we are so popular" Kaoru accuses, sticking a finger in your face "I'm not even a host, why would I be jealous?"

"Apparently you don’t understand the merits of having a pair of twins as members of the Host Club.”

"Other than you driving Tamaki up the wall?" you tease, knowing what they meant, your the host club's manager you've seen the numbers of it all, next to Tamaki the twins were extremely popular, although you never fully understood the appeal.

“Listen up! Having a couple of good-looking guys with homosexual tendencies earns the club high points. It also helps if the two struggle between their attraction and their friendship.”

You nod, trying to turn away and out of this conversation but they follow your gaze. "And in our case, because we’re twins, our relationship is taboo, and therefore more intriguing.” you grimace, you never try to put too much thought in Hikaru and Kaoru's relationship for the sake of your job, so saying it directly wasn't fun to hear.

The twins appear surrounding a guest. Hikaru tilts her chin his way, whispering into her ear.

“And besides, who hasn’t fantasized about twins? Having two lovers is better than one, don’t you think?”

Kaoru replaces Hikaru’s hand with his own, directing the guest his way, “It’s a young woman’s romantic fantasy.”

The guest stammers, “Well, I- um… yeah, you’re right! I can’t take it!” other guests join in on her squealing. "So you see y/n-"

"Don't, I get the picture, just get back to work"

"Hikaru! Kaoru!” Tamaki appears screaming

The twins mirror each other, hands perched on their hips, “Hm?”

Enraged, Tamaki continues, “When I have control of the club’s website, I did so on one condition! That you take it seriously!” Tamaki shrieks in mortification.

“We take our job very seriously, Boss,” Hikaru assures.

Kaoru waves his hands eccentrically, “In fact, last night we worked on it till dawn.”

Tamaki opens his laptop aggressively, “Is THIS what you worked so hard to create?!” He smacks the keyboard, showing images of Haruhi and You pop up.

"What the..."

Haruhi had been photoshopped- Suprisingly well- to make her appear shirtless, although it was obvious that it was fake since obviously Haruhi does not have the chest of a guy. Meanwhile the twins had edited pictures of you to show more collarbone, one photo being taken from behind had you with a completely exposed back.

"Hm, I didn’t notice that change in the website.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice adjacent to you. None other than Kyoya stands emotionless beside you, observing the picture on the monitor.

“Please don’t tell me you were involved in this.” You plead, knowing that if anyone were to supply the photos used to create these it would be Kyoya. "No, but they are doing remarkably well"

It takes all the strength within you not to hit Kyoya up the back of his head. "Why did you even do this! I'm not even a host, not to mention the fact that the host club has an all female demographic!" You cry, voice increasingly getting higher.

You were going to lose your mind, you know the body in the photos wasn't yours but you were uncomfortable showing a lot of skin regardless, even if it wasn't technically your skin.

“You look great, y/n-Chan!” Honey exclaims from behind you. You make a quick movement and cover his eyes with your hand, much to his confusion.

“Oh! We never see much of y/n! I wanna see!”

“That’s why.” Kyoya points with his pen to the girls fawning over the revealing photo of you.

“Plus, I’m sure our male hosts don’t mind taking a glance at it from time to time.” he shrugs. Oh you were going to kill him.

“You-!”

Tamaki snatches the laptop from you and hands it to the awaiting girls. You exclaim in protest and reach for it, but it’s too late.

“Tell me when!”

“Huh?” the twins tilt their heads.

“When did you take naked pictures of y/n and Hruhi?!”

“Oh, dear god.” You shove your face into your hands and resist the urge to scream.

“You bribed her, didn’t you!” Tamaki starts to cry, grabbing at his hair anxiously.

“You’re imagining things.”

“It’s obvious that the photo’s been altered.”

“It was photoshopped?” Tamaki whimpers, facing the twins with dread.

"Trust me Tamaki I knew nothing about this"

“We did a pretty good job, huh?” Hikaru slides next to Tamaki with Kaoru, shrugging identically.

“We’ve got some major photoshopping talent.” Kaoru brags unabashedly.

“You idiots! That’s a waste of your skills! Have you no shame?!”

Tamaki’s attitude takes a swerve, now kneeling before the twins, pleading, “But if you’re going to do it anyway, can you photoshop Haruhi into this idol photo book?” He presents the twins with the photo book excitedly.

This time, it’s Haruhi’s face that pales, becoming white-faced. You can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Boss, why don’t you just-”

“-ask her if she’d wear an outfit like one of those.” the twins suggest, much to Haruhi’s dismay.

Tamaki glances at Haruhi with hopeful eyes, “I never thought to ask her…” he tip-toes behind her and presents her with a pink, frilly dress.

“What do you think about this, my dear?”

“What are you doing with that dress?” Honey tilts his head.

“I would have to agree with Tamaki; I’d love to see what Haruhi looked like if he dressed as a girl!” A guest abandons the laptop to pay attention to Haruhi and Tamaki’s interaction.

“Oh, he’s so cute! I’m sure he’d look great no matter what you put him in.”

Haruhi sighs in exasperation, turning to look at Tamaki with a half-assed glare. Tamaki bursts into tears and drifts away.

You snatch the laptop while it’s unattended and slam it shut, irked. "Okay that's enough, no more creepy photoshops of me and Haruhi you perverts, what do you take us for anyway?"

The twins share an identical smirk with a hum, “Isn’t that obvious? You’re our toys.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

As we were saying, in order to entertain one’s self in this otherwise boring life-”

“One must find himself stimulating toys.”

You and Haruhi groan in unison “we are not your toys, okay?” The twins shrug with mischievous chuckles.

Suddenly, a door appears behind the three of you, revealing someone cloaked in darkness and peeking out from behind them.

“You want a toy?”

The voice calls your attention as well as the twins’, the three of you glancing over with a chorused confused, “Huh?”

“Toys, toys, if you like toys, then you should come and visit my black magic club.” the figure with a deep voice holds a candelabra.

The pieces fit together in your brain, and you realize the intimidating figure only to be Nekozawa-Senpai. You sigh heavily.

“We’ve opened a marketplace that boasts black magic items from across the globe. We’re also holding mass around the clock.”

Neko’s voice pricks the hairs standing straight on the back of Tamaki’s neck, drawing his attention and fear over to him.

“If you visit right now, I’ll even throw in a free curse doll. You can have Beelzenef as your free gift.”

You snort at the mere name of the doll. The twins struggle to hold in their laughter as well.

“Why is he talking to us through a crack in the door?” Haruhi asks from beside you.

“Wait a second, has that door always been there-?”

Kyoya meanders to the four of you with his infamous folder, “Nekozawa-Senpai likes to hide, he doesn’t really care for brightly lit places.” he clarifies at Haruhi’s question.

You raise your hand childishly, “I still have a question about the door-”

Tamaki stalks up behind Haruhi and speaks abruptly, “Don’t get involved with that guy, Haruhi.”

Haruhi leaps into the air with a yelp at his sudden appearance.

Tamaki isn’t phased in the least, “If you do, you’ll end up being cursed!”

“Do you have any basis for that?” you can’t help but snicker at Tamaki’s attitude toward the clearly harmless elder student.

Dramatically, “Yes! And you should know that! It happened during final exams at the end of the last school year! It’s terrifying just to talk about it.”

“On that fateful day, I accidentally stepped on that weirdo Nekozawa’s cursed doll, Beelzenef. Afterward, I took my exam and the entire test was written in some strange lettering! I looked to the others around me for help and realized I knew none of them! I was all alone in a different dimension!”

Honey cries in the backdrop, “Scary!”

“Did that really happen to you?!” Haruhi gasps.

Kyoya clarifies, “That only happened because you were so scared you accidentally walked into the beginning Greek class and took their exam.” he rolls his eyes.

“No, it was a curse! I know because three days later, I woke up and my legs were as heavy as lead! Just how do you explain that?!” Tamaki challenges.

"your legs were heavy because you ran a marathon the day before, remember?” you point out

Nekozawa appears near you, Kyoya, and Tamaki with a warning, “You shouldn’t underestimate the dark powers of Beelzenef the curse doll! All you have to do is write the name of someone you hate on his back. Then that person is certain to come face to face with misfortune!”

Wow, this guy is dark in more ways than one,” Hikaru observes as Tamaki shakes in fright.

“Supposedly, he hates bright lights,” Kaoru glances at his twin with a glint in his eye, “I wonder what he’ll think of this?” He brings a flashlight out from behind his back, flicking it on and off.

The light shines brightly onto Nekozawa, and incidentally, Tamaki, startling them both.

“You murderers!” Nekozawa shrieks as he dashes back to the safe darkness of his club room, slamming the door behind him.

Tamaki lets out a harrowing shriek, “How on earth could you do such a thing?! Obviously the two of you don’t know the true terror of black magic!” he attempts to scold the twins as they wander off.

They throw themselves into chairs alongside each other boredly.

“Ugh, I am so bored.”

“Isn’t there anything fun we can do around here?”

Being ignored is one of Tamaki’s worst nightmares. So he confines himself to his sulking corner and crouches in shame, “My dignity as the club’s leader is being ignored.”

“It sure is.” you tsk as you shake your head at the twins’ behavior.

“Hey, y/n, we’ve got a favor to ask you.” Both Hikaru and Kaoru raise their hands in unison, gaining your attention. “What is it?”

“The next time we get a day off,”

“Can we come over to your place and hang out?”

You tense up at the question "Why would you do that?" in the two years you had been living in Japan you never really had the club members round to your place, while they all lived in mansions you lived in a small apartment not far from the school.

“We’re curious! We wanna see where you live.”

Without hesitation, you have an answer, “No way.” Your response is immediate.

“Aw, pretty please?” they plead annoyingly. "You never let us come round" Kaoru spoke up.

"I’ve been curious as well; I don’t think any of us have been to your house before.” As per usual, Kyoya appears beside you

“No way in hell, Kyoya,” you deadpan. The crease between Kyoya’s brows becomes more prominent at your response. "Besides, it was your family who set me up with my place, I honestly thought you knew where I live"

Kyoya shrugged "I know your address but I haven't seen it in person, I don't go that far in depth in my research"

“We can settle this with a game!” The twins adorn their green caps.

“If you can’t pick out which one of us is Hikaru, then your penalty will be the two of us coming over to your house later tonight.” They shuffle themselves back and forth, spinning.

“Okay! So which one of us is Hikaru?”

Relief floods your system that the game is so simple- they’ll never have to come over. You point confidently, “This one’s Kaoru, this one’s Hikaru.”

The twins prance in accomplishment, “Uh oh! You got it wrong!” They grin.

You raise an eyebrow that they were still choosing to lie even to you “No, I know I’m right. You guys may look alike, but you’re very different.” you clarify.

The twins let out a mildly frightened laugh, trying to keep their composure.

"How did you do that, y/n? Whenever they wear those hats to cover up which way they part their hair, it’s practically impossible to try and figure out which twin is Hikaru and which one is Kaoru!” a guest catches your attention.

“How can you tell them apart?” Another asks.

"I have to spend every day around them for one, you slowly start to pick up on little things, Hikaru is more impulsive than kaoru while kaoru is more mischevious with his plots"

Kaoru snorts and covers his mouth with his hand, “Sorry, Hikaru, I don’t mean to laugh.” But as he says it, his light chuckle transforms into full-blown laughter.

“Well, I don’t see what’s so funny. I’m honest, I speak my mind, and I don’t hold back.” Hikaru closes his eyes and holds his head high.

“It’s sneaky people like Kaoru who are the troublemakers.”

Kaoru’s eyes open wide and the laughter stops. He rises from his hunched position and glares at Kaoru, suddenly serious.

“Don’t turn this on me, Hikaru. After all, I’m the one who’s always going along with all of your selfish games.”

“I may suggest them, but you’re the one who really gets into them, Kaoru. If you hate it so much, then why don’t you just stop?”

“Because I’d hate to see you make an ass of yourself in front of everyone. It was your idea to call y/n our toy, but I noticed you were quick to make a pass at her,”

You slowly try to creep away from the twins, no longer wanting to be apart of whatever is going on, accidentally backing into Kyoya, who grasps your shoulders to stabilise you. "Are you alright?"

“What’s going on?” your voice is unsteady. He follows your finger and shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

“Admit it, Hikaru, you’re actually in love with y/n, aren’t you?”

You're eyes widen in pure shock, in the years that you had known the twins neither had expressed any romantic interest in you, or at least none that you had noticed. Kyoya's grip on your shoulders tighten a little.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Kaoru! Man, you’re such a freaking idiot!”

“Why would I fall for her? I mean, she looks like a tanuki.” Hikaru reasons.

“Wow, thank you so much Hikaru, appreciate it" you mutter.

“Awesome. This is just perfect!”

Something powerful shakes the ground and rises from the floor.

The motor carries Renge, much to your dismay.

“Our beloved y/n is in the middle of a beautiful yet poignant four-sided romantic relationship!”

“Four-sided-?” You glance around cluelessly.

“And to make it even more exciting, two of y/n’s admirers are twins, torn apart by love! Just the thought of it could make me eat three bowls of rice!”

“Oh butt out, Otaku.” The twins groan. You speak up, “Actually, this is the first time she’s acknowledging my existence so-”

“You guys are meanies, you shouldn’t say something like that to your manager!” Renge cries.

“Never mind.” you pout.

“I’m confused, I thought that you had decided to go back home to France, Renge.” Haruhi points out.

“Well, I was going to start up a host club of my own, but I don’t think France is ready for a host club just yet.” Renge explains.

“Cut it out, already!” The exclamation draws everyone’s attention back to the twins.

“You’re the one who’s always crawling into my bed! Talk about annoying!” Hikaru huffs angrily.

“I only do that cause you look lonely! I wouldn’t choose to sleep in your bed, you idiot!”

Somehow, the twins’ guests find their bickering to be dote-worthy.

“Who are you calling an idiot, you’re the one who sucks at math?” Hikaru fires back with rage.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re failing your foreign language class, you big dummy!”

“The way you grind your teeth is deafening!”

“At least I don’t toss and turn so much that I fall out of bed!”

“Sex Pixie!”

“Sicko!”

“YOUR MAMA WEARS TOO MUCH MAKEUP!”

“That’s it! We’re over!”

Silence falls over the host club, you look up to see kyoya's equally shocked face.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

By the time you had reached lunch the next day everyone was getting sick of the twins fighting. Haruhi had told you that the twins had showed up to class with dyed hair and nearly tore the classroom apart.

As you along with the rest of the host club entered the refractory the twins were still arguing, this time over what they were ordering for lunch

“I was wondering what all the fuss was about. I can’t believe the two of you are still fighting, you’re a disgrace to the host club.” Tamaki says as you all enter.

“Hey, look who it is.”

“Oh, I love them…”

“I’ve never seen them all together like this…”

"We've had enough of this! You're both to blame for this!" Honey demands.

You turn to Kyoya "I'm surprised you joined us Kyoya, you never normally eat here" you point out, Kyoya still scribbling in his notebook. "Yes well given the circumstances I figured that it would be best that I come and keep an eye on things lest they start chucking things around the room again. I don't want someone to get hurt"

"Someone?" You ask, sending him a pointed look, kyoya glares at you over the rim of his glasses "Don't want to see you needing a doctor, we both know how that would go" he smirks.

You laugh "I'd look out Kyoya, for a moment there it sounded like you care about me" you faux horror. He tutted through a smile "Well we can't have that can we?"

“I don’t care if my boxed lunch is in an embarrassing heart shape! I will eat it!” Tamaki’s shout echoes in the expansive dining hal, leaving the two of you to stare at him in confusioon.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it’s evident that your fantasies are completely incoherent.” Kyoya departs, carrying his meal on a tray.

“y/n, you wanna sit here with me?” Hikaru pulls out a seat next to him and gestures to it, suddenly calm, separate from Kaoru.

“Uh, okay.” You approach sceptically, sitting down next to him.

“So what’s that?” He points to your little container you’ve brought with you, “What’d you bring for lunch?”

“Just some food I made before school" you shrug.

“You wanna switch with me? I had to order something different than Kaoru, so I ended up with stuff I don’t really like.” He pushes his tray in your direction and swipes up your container.

“That’s fine with me.” You shrug, taking a fork and poking at the food on your new spread. You begin to chew on a bite, humming with satisfaction and chewing thoroughly.

Kaoru pulls out a chair on the other side of you, “So, y/n, is that any good? How would you like to taste mine? Here.”

He slides his fingers under your chin and aims a spoon toward your mouth, tilting your chin upwards. Your face flushes at the proximity.

Hikaru leans forward and eats what’s on Kaoru’s soon, “Quit butting in, get lost, Kaoru.” He deadpans. You squeak and jerk away, separating yourself from the twins glaring at each other.

Kaoru hesitates before chucking a bowl of soup in Hikaru’s direction.

Although it looks like Hikaru has received the blow, he pulls on Tamaki’s tie to reveal that he shielded himself with his own boss. He smirks.

Before you know it, you’re caught in another crossfire between them. Chairs, plates, food, and even Honey is thrown between them.

You slip away and somehow yet again ended up sat by Kyoya yet again “Weren’t you enjoying yourself over there? I'm sure the twins are excellent company”

“Very funny.” Your eyes roll exaggeratedly, opening up your food. "Why have you brought your own lunch? I understand why Haruhi requires a boxed lunch but you and I both know you are in a vastly different situation to her"

"I don't know I just... I've felt weirdly homesick this week, I figured making some food from where I am from would help" you shrug, Kyoya hums back in understanding "Could I...try some?" He asked, slightly sheepishly which was a rare look for him.

You nod, smiling back as you slide over the box for him to stick his fork in, patiently awaiting as he took a taste. His face lights up in a mix of surprise and delight "This is really good"

"You think? I don't think myself to be that much of a chef" you shrug, sliding the box back to take a taste for yourself "You made this?" you smile back at him nodding "yeah"

Kyoya hums, staring back at you with a look that you couldn't quite place. "You should tell me about your home country more often" he lightly commented, returning to his own food. You stared back at him in mild shock, "Yeah"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Looking at the numbers, if this situation isn’t resolved, I’m afraid we’re going to have to stop offering our brotherly love package. We’re down one pair of loving brothers.” Kyoya grumbles, sitting directly across from you.

“Oh, y/n, I just want you to know there’s no reason for you to feel responsible. Even though it was your tactless comment that started this whole feud between the twins in the first place, right?”

Your shoot him a dead pan glare. Clearly he did blame you despite the fact that the twins kind of started the fight themselves.

Honey fidgets solemnly with Usa-Chan in his lap, “It’s weird for Hika-Chan and Kao-Chan to be fighting like this. It’s never happened before.” a frown etched upon his face. Mori nods with a bleak hum.

“They’ve never fought before?” Haruhi chimes in from beside you. You nod grimly.

“I’ve known Hika-Chan and Kao-Chan since we were pre-school. We weren’t in the same year, so I never really got to talk to them, but I remember that the two of them always played together.” Honey recalls.

“Yeah, that’s true. I mean, I’ve only known the twins since they were in middle school but they definitely stood out. It seemed like… they kept everyone at a distance except each other to protect themselves. I mean, they were even more isolated back then, I couldn’t even imagine how they’ve turned out now when I knew them at first.” Tamaki chimed in.

“Maybe this fight is a good thing for them.” He extends his arms to emphasize his next point, “Maybe it means that the twins are expanding their horizons a bit. We should just leave them alone and let them work it out.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You quickly realise that leaving them alone to work it out wasn't quite going to cut it. By the time the next day rolled around you all realised that you could not open the host club that day as the twins were yet again hurling things at eachother.

“Don’t you guys think that maybe, it’s time you give up all this fighting? It’s driving me insane!” Tamaki cries, looking like he is one more argument away from having a breakdown

“What’d you say? It’s driving you insane? You’ve got to be kidding me- how do you think I feel right now?! Every time I look in the mirror, I see his face! I’m sick and tired of constantly being mistaken for you, Kaoru! The truth is, I hate your guts!” Hikaru yells across the room.

“You took the words right out of my mouth. In fact, I hate you so much, I bought this! Belzenef, the curse doll!” Hikaru produces the wooden cat doll from his blazer. Tamaki shrieks.

“I’m going to complete the curse, Hikaru. I’m going to write your name on his back.” Kaoru pulls a marker from thin air threateningly, Hikaru growls.

Rage and frustration filled you, this was too far, it was all getting out of hand.

“From this day forward, you’re going to experience nothing but misfortune and sorrow!” The marker squeaks as Kaoru scribbles onto the back of the doll.

Tamaki screeches in horror, his palms cupping both his cheeks.

You march up to him, snatching the doll from him and throwing it to the ground. "Are you insane!?" Kaoru stares back at you in shock. "You don’t bring something like this into a petty fight! Both of you are at fault here, but what’s really sad is that you’ve brought everyone else around you into your big mess!”

At this point you are staring down at the two of them like a mother scolding two small children, “Now apologize to each other! If you don’t make up right now, I’m never gonna let you come over to my house, have I made myself clear?!”

You hadn't even registered the words before they left your mouth, pausing as you processed what you actually had just said. The twins stare up at you in shock and horror, however that does not last long as the corners of their lips twist upwards into a smirk.

“So then what you’re saying, y/n, that if we make up, we can come over to your place?” They circle you with hands perched on their hips.

Vertigo overtook you as you realised exactly what had just happened, looking down to find that all that Kaoru had wrote on the curse doll was 'blank'

“I’m so sorry, Kaoru. Even though I was just following our script, I said such awful things to you. I’m not fit to be your brother.” Hikaru caresses Kaoru by the cheek gently.

Kaoru reaches up and takes Hikaru’s face in his hands, “Don’t say that, Hikaru! I was worried. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever thought I had hurt you.”

“Kaoru, I’ll never let you go again!”

“Hikaru!”

You remain stood there, stunned at what was happening before you.

As the twins embrace, Honey flails his arms with squinted eyes, “You’ve gotta be kidding! You mean you guys were faking it this whole time?!” He screams.

You and Tamaki have fallen to your knees in defeat. Your fist tries its hardest to clench the ground, your head hanging between your shoulders.

“We didn’t have anything else to do, we were bored.”

Tamaki weakly lifts his head to observe them, “Twins with too much time on their hands…”

Hikaru and Kaoru both stick out their tongue at him, pulling a single eyelid down in a mocking way.

“…are the devil.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“I’m so glad they made up!” guests squeal in admiration.

With pink and blue hair, the twins encourage them, “Okay, it’s time to play the "which one is Hikaru” game!“ They smile widely.

A guest pipes up, "I know! The twin with the pink hair is Hikaru!” She announces proudly.

“We have a winner!” The twins have found that letting their guests win is also as much fun as watching them get them mixed up.

“So are you two going to keep your wild hair color even though you’ve made up? It’s much easier to tell the two of you apart now.”

Haruhi glances up as she strides past them, cocking an eyebrow as she observes their hair colour. They are not the same as they were yesterday.

“Huh, no, it isn’t.” she almost laughs as she stroll past, anticipating their reaction. They each hum boredly, watching her go. “Today, the pink one is Kaoru and Hikaru’s the blue one. You switched overnight huh?"

You hum in approval from nearby "You're finally catching on Haruhi" you congratulate her at being the second person to correctly tell the twins apart.

The twins freeze, staring at the two of you blankly as they realised that you both could truly tell which one was Hikaru.

"I think you broke them" Kyoya pointed out, glancing up from his notebook. You hum in agreement "Yes I think so" he smirks, placing the book down "I must admit it was quite interesting to see you lay into the twins like that, I've never seen you that angry before"

You shrug "I don't even know where it came from really, I guess something came over me" Kyoya pauses, smile slowly fading into a smirk "I'd look out , for a moment there it sounded like you care"

You laugh.

Maybe you did.

Next time on patience 'The Gradeshool host is the naughty type!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ohshc #ohshc kyoya #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran highschool host club #ouran host club #ouran hshc #kaoru hitachiin #ouran #ouran kyoya #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh

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coffeeshades · 5 months ago

Text

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VII

—forever winter

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.8k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and covid. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello again, here's the next part!! also here are a few songs i listened to while writing this one: salt in the wound - boygenius, flume - bon iver, the gold - phoebe bridgers, for emma - bon iver, forever winter - taylor swift and calgary - bon iver.

happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 19, 2020

Los Angeles, CA

There have always been two versions of you: the person you once were and the person the world has decided you are. The first is the one who existed long before the spotlight, the one with a bit of adolescent angst, dreams bigger than herself, and a heart still learning to shield itself.

This version was taught by her parents that she was special, but the world hadn’t yet caught on. She was the girl who felt small and out of place, who wrestled with who she was and where she belonged.

And then there’s the second version, the one who stands in the center of magazine covers, on the glossy side of fame. She is everything you once dreamed of becoming—and more. You’ve spent the last decade perfecting her image, carving her out of raw ambition and countless hours under the hot glare of cameras. Her Wikipedia page reads like an epic: awards, accolades, achievements—flawless. She’s a masterpiece.

This side of you is never tired. She never shows frustration. She knows how to angle her face when the camera flashes, to smile when the questions sting, and to cry beautifully when accepting awards. She can gracefully discuss the sexism she’s faced in the industry, yet she knows better than to name names or point fingers.

She always sticks to the narrative.

For the longest time, you hoped you wouldn’t need to split into two people. That the version of yourself from years ago would be good enough for the world. But the divide wasn’t gradual—it was sudden. It happened four years ago, the day your ex decided to make you the centerpiece of a bitter, ugly breakup that splashed across every tabloid in the country. Since then, you’ve been caught between these two identities, juggling the woman you once were with the image the world expects of you.

As you sit in the back seat of the car, your eyes linger on your reflection in the tinted window. Tonight is the SAG Awards, another high-profile event where your public persona will take the lead. You watch yourself in the mirror, a familiar stranger, and wonder: Does anyone truly know you? Do you even know yourself anymore?

“There's a line of press when you get out of the car,” Taylor, your manager, says without looking up from her phone. “You know, the usual stuff.”

“Got it.”

You nod, trying to focus on the task ahead, but your thoughts are far away. You look out the window, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color. No matter how many of these events you attend, it never gets easier.

The car slows to a stop, the muffled sounds of the crowd growing louder through the windows.

“Why isn’t Daniel here?” Taylor asks, breaking the silence.

“He had to fly back to Enstone,” you reply, a pang of disappointment in your chest. “The season starts soon. He’s prepping.”

Last year was a challenging one for Daniel—his racing season wasn’t what he hoped for, and he’s determined to make up for it this time around. His commitment to his craft mirrors yours in so many ways, but tonight, you wish he was here with you.

“Oh, that’s too bad, babe,” Taylor says, her hand resting on your knee in a gesture of sympathy. “When will he be back?”

“I’m not sure; he didn't say,” you murmur. “Hopefully soon.”

The door opens, and the roar of the crowd hits you like a wave. Flashing cameras, the shouting of photographers, and the glittering red carpet stretch out before you. “Looks like we’re here,” Taylor says, stepping out and extending a hand to help you.

You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. It’s always easier with someone by your side, but tonight you’ll have to do this alone. You follow Taylor’s lead, plastering a smile on your face as you step out into the chaos. The cameras flash, posing and waving, but inside, you feel detached—like you’re watching yourself from afar.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally make it inside the venue, your body relaxing slightly as the noise of the red carpet fades behind you. You’re greeted by familiar faces and smiles, but the exhaustion from keeping up appearances lingers.

“I thought I was going to be the coolest person here, but clearly, you've beat me to it.”

The voice pulls you from your thoughts, deep and teasing. You turn and find Pedro standing there, dressed in a sleek silver suit jacket with black pants, his expression warm and playful.

His presence doesn't faze you; you've been filming for the Mandalorian since November last year, seeing each other here and there, not really spending time together between takes, and not acknowledging what happened at the wedding. You didn't hear from him since production stopped mid-December, only to get back on set early January. Although with everything else he's doing, you barely see him there anyway.

“You look amazing,” he says, his eyes lingering on you.

You glance down at your outfit—a sharp, stylish suit you picked for the night. It fits perfectly, giving you an air of confidence even though, inside, you feel anything but. “Thanks,” you say. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Pascal.” You gesture to his getup, offering a kind smile.

Pedro smirks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I came over to congratulate you.”

"Yeah?"

“The Achievement Award. That's huge.”

You laugh softly, a little self-conscious. “That sounds like an overstatement for someone who’s only 28.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze piercing. Pedro has always been able to see through you in ways that others can’t. You can hide from the world, but not from him.

“Don’t do that,” he says quietly, his voice firm.

“Do what?” you ask, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

“Don’t invalidate your accomplishments. You deserve this.”

There’s something in the way he says it—a weight to his words that makes you pause. Part of you wants to argue, to downplay everything like you always do, but his sincerity stops you.

Instead, you nod, offering a small smile.

“Thank you, Pedro,” you say softly. “That means a lot.”

Does it?

He sees right through and holds out his arm, a silent invitation. “Wanna walk in with me?”

For a moment, you hesitate. There’s an unspoken tension between the two of you, a history that neither of you has fully acknowledged. But as your eyes meet, the air shifts. You loop your arm through his, holding onto his bicep as the two of you make your way into the theater together. A camera flash goes off, and you smile. But this time, with Pedro by your side, it feels a little less lonely.

•••

You were sitting at a table when a fellow actor and friend started talking about you on stage. It was surreal, like time had slowed down, and you found yourself lost in thought. You’d been to countless awards shows and accepted more than your share of accolades, but this one felt different. A recognition of not just a role or a single performance, but a lifetime of work—or at least, a decade of it. And you were still young. Too young, part of you thought, for this kind of tribute. Yet here you were, about to be honored in front of your peers, the people who had seen your highs and lows.

The screen flickered to life, and a montage of your work began to play. Scenes from movies that had shaped your career, close-ups of moments that had shaped you. A smile here, a tear there, moments of triumph and vulnerability.

It was oddly like watching your life flash before your eyes—a strange out-of-body experience, as if you were looking back at someone else's journey. The montage moved through the years, capturing not just the characters you played but the changes in you—subtle at first, then more pronounced. The younger you, still full of raw hope and untamed energy, compared to the more seasoned version, who had learned how to navigate the treacherous terrain of fame. It felt like a snapshot of your life in fast-forward, as if you were witnessing your own eulogy.

You breathed in deeply, trying to stay present. It wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself.

The applause was thunderous as the montage ended, and it wasn’t until your name was called that reality snapped back into focus.

You stepped out into the blinding lights, the weight of the moment settling in as you approached the podium. The sea of faces before you blurred slightly in the brightness, but you could make out familiar ones. Peers you respected, younger actors looking up at you with wide eyes, veterans who had paved the way before you. And somewhere out there, you knew Pedro was watching.

With trembling hands, you held the award, the metal cool against your palm. You took a breath, steadying yourself before speaking.

“This is... overwhelming,” you began, chuckling, your voice breaking slightly from the emotion of it all. “I don’t even know where to start. Thank you to everyone who believed in me and to the people who supported me through the ups and downs. This means more than I can put into words.”

You paused, scanning the room, catching sight of Pedro for just a second, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that grounded you.

“When I started this journey, I was just a kid with big dreams and very little understanding of how hard this industry could be,” you continued, feeling the words flow more easily now. “But I learned early on that dreams don’t work unless you do. It��s not just about talent—it’s about determination, grit, and pushing through even when everything seems impossible.”

Your eyes drifted toward the younger faces in the audience. “To the younger actors out there, keep going. I know it can feel like the world is telling you no at every turn, like you’re not good enough or that you’ll never make it, but don’t stop dreaming. Don’t stop working. This industry can be brutal, but it can also be beautiful. Find the beauty. Hold onto it. Work for it.”

A wave of applause broke out, but you weren’t finished yet. You felt a pull, a need to say more, something from the heart. Something real.

“And through all of it,” you said, your voice softer now, “keep the people who truly love you close. In this business, it’s easy to get lost in the noise, in the hundreds of things that try to tear you down or make you feel like you’re not enough. But the people who love you for who you are, not what you can give them, are the ones who will keep you grounded. I’ve met some of my forever people in this industry, and for that, I’m grateful. Despite all the bad and all the heartache that comes with this life, it’s those relationships that make it worthwhile.”

Your gaze wandered again, unconsciously searching the crowd for Pedro, and when your eyes met his, something inside you softened. He knew what you were talking about. He knew the weight of those words better than anyone.

“I’m grateful,” you continued, your voice a little more vulnerable now, “because I’ve been able to hold on to those people. Even when things get complicated even when it feels like the world is pushing us apart. You have to fight for those connections. They’re what make this crazy, beautiful life worth living.”

You felt a lump in your throat but pushed through it, finishing with, “So thank you. To the people in my life who have stuck with me through the good and the bad. This is as much yours as it is mine.”

March 5th, 2020

Calgary, Canada

Life after the awards ceremony didn’t feel much different than before. It was still the same relentless rhythm—work, events, travel, more work. The brief moments of peace in between became rare and fleeting, like whispers in the storm of your career. Daniel’s season was supposed to start soon, and though you’d seen him twice after he flew to France for preparations, something between you felt... off. His distance was palpable, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on it too much. It was easier to stay busy, keep moving, and brush it off as a phase. After all, the both of you were pulled in so many directions—when was the last time anything felt normal?

A quiet dinner in your NYC apartment, one of the few times Daniel managed to swing by in between training sessions. The table was set with takeout boxes instead of a home-cooked meal—neither of you had the energy for anything more.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said softly, watching him as he absentmindedly poked at his food with a fork. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I miss this,” you added.

“Yeah, me too,” Daniel said, but the words were like dust on the air—insubstantial, weightless.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet," you trailed off, unsure of how to breach the distance you felt growing between you.

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind with the season coming up. It’s…you know, a lot of pressure.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on his. “You’re going to be great. You always are.”

He gave you that familiar smile, but it still felt like something was slipping through your fingers.

•••

By March, you had flown to Calgary to shoot a horror-adjacent film. The setting—a desolate cabin in the snow, miles from anywhere—was perfect for the kind of chilling atmosphere the director was aiming for. You’d always loved working with indie directors; their stories had depth, innovation, and a sense of grounded reality that the big-budget productions sometimes lacked. It was a reminder of why you fell in love with acting in the first place.

On set, things moved fast. Between takes, you found a quiet corner of the cabin and pulled out your phone to FaceTime with Taylor. She was mid-ranting when she answered.

“There’s a potential shutdown happening, babe. Something about a virus…COVID, or whatever they’re calling it. Have you heard anything about it?”

You’d heard whispers from the crew, but nothing had been confirmed. “I’ve heard some talk around set, but no one knows what’s happening yet.”

“Well, I’m telling you now, it’s serious. This might be the last project you get to work on for a while. Everything else is likely to be delayed. Keep your eyes open.”

You sighed, looking around as the crew moved around with their usual buzz of energy.

“Guess I’ll enjoy this last bit of freedom while I can.”

Taylor chuckled. “Yeah, enjoy it while you’re in the middle of nowhere. Call me if you hear anything else.”

You ended the call and pocketed your phone, the unease settling into your chest. Everyone around the set seemed unfazed, but the air had undoubtedly changed.

By the final days of production, the world was different. Everyone wore face masks, and hand sanitizer became the reigning deity on set.

•••

Reality hit hard. Flights were cancelled. No one could leave. You were stuck in the cabin, snow piling up outside like a barricade against the world, while the virus barricaded you from returning home. You made a grocery run the minute things got a little hectic, filling the place with more supplies than you’d ever seen yourself buy—just in case. The panic in the air was contagious, and chaos reigned for those first two weeks.

You FaceTimed your mom as you unpacked. “I’m stuck in Canada,” you said, laughing softly despite the anxiety that gnawed at your insides.

“Are you serious?” her voice was a mix of worry and exasperation. “You should’ve been back by now. What about New York?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back. Airports are closed.”

She sighed heavily, the sound crackling through the phone. “Just take care of yourself, honey, alright? Don’t be reckless. Are you alone?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be fine."

Her voice softened. “Be careful, okay?”

“I will, Mom. I promise.”

•••

It was a particularly dark, cold afternoon. The kind where the sky hung low with thick clouds and the cold crept in through the cracks of the cabin no matter how many layers you wore. You had wrapped yourself in a blanket, the silence of isolation pressing down heavier than usual when your phone buzzed on the table.

Daniel’s name appeared on the screen.

You hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button, but you couldn’t ignore him. Not yet. So you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear, forcing a soft, casual, “Hey.”

His voice on the other end was calm, but there was an undercurrent to it—a kind of distance that had been growing for months. "Hey," he replied, his Aussie accent tinged with something heavy. "How’s it going over there?"

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “You know… same. Snowed in. A lot of waiting.” There was an awkward pause. You filled it with a half-hearted laugh. “How about you? Everything alright?”

He cleared his throat, and you could feel the shift before he even said it. “Actually… I don’t think we should keep this up.”

The words hit you like the cold outside, seeping into your bones, but not with shock—just a kind of muted inevitability. There it is, you thought, the final crack in what was already falling apart.

Your brain hummed with white noise after that. You don’t remember what you said in response, something vague like, “Yeah, I get it.” The words came out on autopilot, and you weren’t really listening anymore. It wasn’t traumatic; it wasn’t the kind of breakup that destroyed you. It was like slowly waking from a dream and realizing it had already ended before you even opened your eyes.

His voice was kind, soft—too soft. “You’re so great, you know that, right? This just… it wasn’t working anymore. For either of us.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. Your mind was elsewhere—on the conversations with Pedro, on the way your heart leaped when you heard his voice instead of Daniel’s. You had known, deep down, for a while now where your heart really was.

“I guess we knew this was coming,” you finally managed, voice steady, as if you were discussing something as simple as the weather.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But still… I didn’t want it to hurt.”

The niceties and the polite words that followed hurt more than any fight ever could have. It was the kindness of it that made it sting—the acknowledgment that neither of you had it in you to fight for something that had already drifted away. There was no anger, no raised voices, no accusations.

Just two people who had loved each other briefly, now saying goodbye like they were parting ways at an airport terminal.

“Well, take care of yourself, alright?” Daniel said softly.

“You too,” you whispered, already feeling the weight of finality.

And then it was over. The phone went silent in your hand, and you stared at the screen as if it could offer you some kind of closure that you weren’t sure you needed.

•••

The days began to bleed into one another. You were alone in that cabin—snowed in and quarantined from the world. The only connection you had was through your phone, through calls with Sarah and Oscar, who checked in on you daily.

Most days, you found ways to pass the time. You read, you cooked—burned some things, too—and found yourself sitting by the old piano that had come with the cabin. Your fingers brushed against the keys, unsure at first, after so much time spent focusing on acting. But the music came swiftly, like muscle memory. The songs poured out of you, stories in lyrical form, shaped by the silence and solitude around you.

But some nights, the quiet was too loud.

The breakup with Daniel lingered in the back of your mind like a dull ache. You had been okay with it for the most part; you knew it was coming, and neither of you were in it anymore. But there were nights, like tonight, when the weight of it crashed down and the loneliness felt too heavy to carry. You lay in bed, tears wetting the pillow, thinking about how everything had ended in polite goodbyes when maybe you needed the screaming.

•••

One day, in the middle of baking—flour dusting your hands and a bowl of half-mixed batter sitting on the counter—you received a text: “I hope you’re doing okay.”

You stared at it, your heart skipping a beat. You had thought about him every single day and wondered how he was coping and whether he was safe. Anytime Sarah called, you asked about him, telling yourself that it was enough to know from a distance. But now, with that simple text, you caved.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

His reply came almost immediately. “Not really. Mostly lonely.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew how hard it was for him to be alone. He thrived off people, off energy. And now, the world had gone still.

“Wanna talk?” you typed, holding your breath.

“Would love to hear your voice,” came the reply.

So you called him, and the hours melted away as you both talked about everything—about the virus, about work, about how isolating it all was. He asked, finally, “How’s Daniel?”

You hesitated. “We’re no longer together. Haven’t been for a while.”

There was a pause, then a soft, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

You quickly changed the subject, but it lingered between you, the unspoken acknowledgment of what that meant. After that, you spoke almost every day. The isolation became less suffocating, and with each call, you both felt a little less alone.

•••

On Pedro’s birthday, you baked a cupcake in his honor, lighting a single candle before FaceTiming him. When he picked up, he laughed, “You made me a cupcake?”

“Of course I did,” you said with a grin, holding up the tiny treat. “Now, pretend to blow out the candle.”

He played along, puffing his cheeks and making a ridiculous show of it. “Thank you for this. It’s not much of a birthday without people.”

“Well, you’ve got me,” you said, singing an off-key version of Happy Birthday. His laughter filled the space between you.

Later that night, he posted a screenshot of your call on his Instagram story, and the internet lost its mind. Comments flooded in—"Omg, she baked him a cupcake!"—“My favorite best friends!”—and you laughed at the attention it brought.

•••

One evening, as you sat at the piano again, your phone propped up with Pedro on FaceTime, he listened quietly as you played a new melody. “I think the lyrics need work,” you said, biting your lip.

He smirked. “Let me hear them.”

You hummed the first few lines, fumbling over the phrasing. “See, it doesn’t quite flow.”

“Let’s try this,” Pedro suggested, offering a line.

By the end of the night, the song felt whole, and you felt lighter.

The days passed—isolated and cold—but your connection with Pedro was alive and warm again. And as the weeks stretched on, you couldn’t help but wonder: How long until you fucked this up again?

October 5, 2020

Budapest, Hungary

Pedro had always known loneliness. It was a quiet, persistent companion, but in Budapest, it had taken on a new form. The city was beautiful, its streets old and layered with history, but none of it could distract him from the hollow ache in his chest. The early mornings on set, the long hours of filming—the work was steady. But outside of that, the hours stretched endlessly.

He had been filming in Europe for months, and though he loved his job, the thrill of creating something special—the distance—both physical and emotional—was wearing him thin. He had been keeping in touch with you, his constant thread of connection. The texts, the occasional FaceTime calls, were easy and comforting. But he could never shake the weight of what he hadn’t told you. What you didn't allow him to say. It felt like a brick in his stomach.

You lived strangely in his head.

He still hadn’t found the courage to say the words. I love you. They haunted him—a truth he couldn’t bring himself to speak. Every time he thought he was ready, he backtracked, swallowing the confession whole. His cowardice infuriated him. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been in love with you for years, the feelings growing stronger and deeper, but now… now you were thousands of miles away, and he was stuck in this self-made purgatory.

His thoughts often drifted to his mother lately. She had always known how to comfort him, her voice soothing, her advice simple but profound. What would she have said about you? About his inability to speak the truth? He could hear her in his head, telling him to stop being such a fool, to just go for it. But she wasn’t here anymore, and he felt lost without her, more than he ever let on.

The days on set were repetitive but engaging. The crew was tightknit, and the project was exciting. He threw himself into work, hoping it would distract him. He laughed with the cast, bantered with the director, but when the camera wasn’t rolling, his mind was elsewhere. It was with you.

•••

A few weeks later, after wrapping up in Budapest, he found himself in Switzerland alone again. He didn’t know why he’d come. The scenery was breathtaking, the mountains vast and quiet, but the isolation magnified the emptiness he felt. It was as if everything had come to a standstill.

The stillness weighed on him. The quiet, once a solace, now felt oppressive. He spent his days wandering the small towns, drinking coffee in hidden cafés, trying to convince himself that the solitude was a gift. But he felt shattered, more broken than before.

One night, the loneliness became too much, and he called you. Desperation tightened his throat as he waited for you to pick up, his mind screaming at him to just tell you. The phone rang, and when you answered, your voice was soft, familiar, and full of comfort.

"Pedro," you said, and it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

His breath caught, and the confession lodged itself in his throat again. He had been ready, so ready, but hearing you—he thought better of it. What could he say that wouldn’t ruin everything?

"Hey," he replied, his voice rougher than intended. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

You chuckled softly on the other end. "You good?"

"Yeah, I’m good," he lied, the words heavy on his tongue. "Just…miss talking to you, that’s all."

"I miss you too," you said, and it broke him a little more. The call went on, but he had already retreated into himself, too afraid to say what needed to be said. He listened to you talk about your day, your laugh filling the silence on his end, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was failing—failing himself, failing you.

•••

The next day, he went for a walk. The air was cold, biting, but it didn’t bother him. He needed to clear his head. He walked along the cobbled streets, past quaint houses with shuttered windows, and let the weight of his feelings wash over him. It was overwhelming. His history with you, all the unsaid things, all the moments when he should have acted and didn’t. It crashed over him like a wave, leaving him breathless.

He found a bench and sat, his head in his hands. One day, he thought. One day, I’ll tell her.

December 31st, 2020

New York, NY

The phone call from Oscar came two weeks before New Year's Eve. His voice was warm, as it always was, but there was an unmistakable edge of hope in it, the kind that crept in after months of isolation.

“It’s just something small,” he had said. You could hear his smile through the phone, that charming grin he always wore. “Not a lot of people, you know. Just family and close friends. After the last few months we've had… I think we need this.”

You hadn’t seen Oscar in person in what felt like forever, and the idea of being with people—Oscar’s people, your people—sounded like a balm to the soul. You agreed before he could finish the invitation, the excitement bubbling up despite the world still not feeling quite right.

You got tested later that week, making sure you were safe to attend the gathering.

When you arrived at Oscar’s apartment, the city had an eerie quiet to it. New York was never still, even during the pandemic, but tonight it felt subdued, like it was holding its breath for something more. You headed for the entrance, and the soft sound of music spilled out the moment the doors opened.

Oscar met you with his arms wide open, pulling you into a tight hug. “Look who finally made it,” he teased, his face lighting up in that familiar way. “You look good.”

“You too,” you said, stepping back and taking in the warmth of the room. It was intimate—just the right amount of people to make you feel at home, but not so many that it felt overwhelming.

Before you could take another step, Sarah swooped in, stealing you from Oscar’s embrace with an exaggerated squeal. She enveloped you in a hug so tight you could barely breathe.

“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. You hadn’t seen her in ages, and the reunion felt like a weight lifting off your chest. The two of you spent the next few minutes catching up, your laughter blending in with the soft chatter around the room.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him. He had arrived a little late, typical of him, but the sight of him sent your heart into a dizzying spin. It had been almost a year since you last saw each other in person.

He moved through the room, and when he finally made his way toward you, your breath hitched. He wore a simple black t-shirt, the fabric clinging to his toned chest. His hair was longer, fluffy from the months of lockdown, and his big brown eyes—usually so full of light —looked tired.

But when he saw you, the weariness seemed to lift for a moment.

He said your name softly, stepping close. His arms opened, and you fell into them without hesitation, wrapping yourself around him in a way that felt too familiar, too safe. He held you tight, his grip lingering longer than necessary, like he was afraid to let go.

“Hey,” you breathed against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him—pleasant, familiar, grounding. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you. You pulled back slightly, looking into his face, wanting to say something—anything. You couldn’t live without thinking about him. He consumed your every thought, and somewhere along the way, you had come to terms with how you felt about him.

But the words stuck in your throat.

“At last, we see each other,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, his hand still on your back.

“At last,” you repeated, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You both opened your mouths to speak, then laughed in unison.

"You first," Pedro said, his eyes twinkling with amusement, though there was something deeper there—something lingering just beneath the surface.

But before you could say anything more, Sarah reappeared, her arm hooking through yours as she dragged you away. “Sorry! I need to steal her for a sec,” she said with a laugh, oblivious to the quiet intensity of the moment she’d interrupted.

Pedro smiled at her, though his eyes flicked back to you. "What I wanted to say can wait," he said softly, his voice carrying a promise that sent a jolt through you.

You promised yourself you’d find him later.

•••

In the kitchen, you and Sarah were rummaging through cabinets for more drinks when you heard Oscar’s booming laugh. Turning, you spotted him and Pedro, who now had a ridiculous pointy birthday hat perched on his head. You burst into laughter at the sight, unable to resist.

“Cute hat,” you said, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “Let’s document this moment.”

He grinned, grabbing Oscar by the shoulder and pulling him in for the picture. Pedro tilted his head, drinking from his beer, and Oscar looked up at him with a puzzled expression as you snapped a photo.

“Perfect. That’s going on Instagram for sure,” you teased, and Pedro groaned.

Before anyone could respond, Oscar’s wife walked by, eyeing the hat on Pedro’s head with mock suspicion. Pedro took his cue, unlocking from Oscar and jokingly attacking her with the pointy hat, poking her side with the plastic tip. You snapped another picture, laughing as she swatted him away.

“Send that to me,” she called over her shoulder, and you nodded, tucking your phone back into your pocket just as Sarah handed you a drink.

•••

The night continued, the energy in the room bubbling up as the countdown to midnight approached. Karaoke had started in one of the rooms, and you couldn’t resist.

Pedro avoided it at all costs, standing in the doorway with a bemused expression. After your rendition of Losing My Religion, he caught your eye.

“That was something, huh?” he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I was extra terrible just for you,” you shot back, walking over to him. “I know how much you hate this.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.

Just as you were about to respond, a woman’s voice broke through the moment. “Oscar said you were in here,” she said, stepping forward. “Hi.”

You turned to see her approach Pedro, and before you could fully register what was happening, she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. A casual, intimate gesture that sent a shock of realization through your entire body.

You blink, dumbfounded, as Pedro shifted slightly to make introductions. “This is Julia,” he said, his voice a little too calm for the turmoil suddenly spinning inside you.

Your mind raced, trying to place her. And then it hit you—she was in the group photos he posted from the crew of the movie he was filming in Budapest. One of the producers, you think.

Oh.

Julia greeted you happily, oblivious to the terrible ache now pooling in your chest. You felt your throat tighten, the words you had wanted to say earlier were now swallowed by this unfamiliar wave of jealousy and disappointment. You went mute, unable to find words that wouldn’t betray how much this hurt.

Pedro’s voice broke the silence again, almost too nonchalant. “This is what I wanted to talk about earlier.”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh, great,” you managed to say, forcing a smile that you didn’t feel.

“And you?” Pedro asked, clearly trying to keep things light. “You said you wanted to talk, too.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and your mind screamed for you to say something—anything—but all you could muster was, “No, um, it was nothing, really.”

Something stung deep inside you. It was a dull ache, gnawing away at your resolve. You needed a way out. Fast.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” you said to her, your voice tight. “If you’ll excuse me…”

And before either of them could say anything more, you slipped away, making a beeline for the kitchen where Oscar stood.

“Hey,” you blurted, pulling him aside. “He’s fucking dating someone? And you didn’t say a thing?”

Oscar looked at you, taken aback. “I—it wasn’t my news to share.”

You pressed your fingers to your forehead, trying to swallow the embarrassment. “I know. I know, I’m sorry. I just… I can't believe I was about to confess my love for him and make a fool of myself. Again.”

Oscar stared at you, his eyebrows raised. “You were what?”

You laughed, though it was tinged with bitterness. “Yeah. But now? I mean, clearly, it’s just another sign. The timing’s never right. Never.”

Was it punishment? you thought.

Oscar opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly uncertain of what to say. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed another drink. “Here,” he said quietly, offering it to you.

You took it, staring at the liquid swirling in the glass.

"It’s fairly new, you know," Oscar said softly, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Like two weeks or something. It’s not serious yet."

“I just don’t get it,” you muttered, almost to yourself. “I don’t.”

Oscar sighed, his hand finding your back, a comforting weight that helped ground you. “I know. I know.”

You knew there was else nothing you could do right now, so you poured the drink down your throat, feeling the burn as it went down.

•••

“There you are,” Pedro called softly, his voice muffled by the cold air as he stepped through the glass doors onto the backyard patio. The wind hit him immediately, sharp and biting, but the bitter cold felt fitting, almost poetic.

You stood there, your back to him, a silhouette against the frozen horizon. For a moment, he was transported back to the first time he saw you in this very spot, under a much different sky. That night, the air had been warm, filled with the kind of anticipation that crackled with every glance exchanged. You had stood just like this, dressed similarly too, arms crossed against the world, hair cascading down your back like a curtain he desperately wanted to pull aside.

But tonight was different. Tonight, your shoulders were tense, hunched against more than just the cold. When you turned around, your face wasn’t full of curiosity. It was distant, your eyes heavy with an emotion he couldn’t quite name, but that he knew he was responsible for.

"You bolted out of there," Pedro said, his voice strained as he tried to sound casual, but the worry leaked through.

You gave a soft, bitter hum, a sound he couldn’t decipher but felt in his bones. "I was a bit shocked, honestly."

He swallowed, suddenly nervous, fumbling with the words he had rehearsed in his mind so many times but never managed to say. "I know. I wanted to tell you about her, I just... I don’t know. It’s new. I didn’t think it was important enough yet. I thought I’d find the right moment, but it never felt... appropriate. And I didn’t want to make things weird, you know?"

Pedro kept talking, words spilling out as he tried to explain. He mentioned her name—Julia—said they had met on set, that it wasn’t serious yet, that it had barely even begun. His voice grew quieter, more unsure with every sentence, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

See, Pedro hadn't planned on getting into a relationship, not when his every thought was consumed by you, not when he knew he loved you, and yet here he was. He didn't know what he was doing anymore.

But your expression had already changed. He could see the way your face shut down, the way your gaze hardened, and it twisted something deep inside him.

“Don’t apologize to me about your relationship,” you said, the words sharp and cutting. “That’s the kind of thing that makes me feel like I’m some kind of Machiavellian villain.”

Pedro winced, his breath catching in his throat. He hated this. But before he could say anything, you spoke again, your voice lower, more controlled.

"Our time never seems to align, does it? It never has, and it never will. It's funny, even.” You paused, looking away, your voice a strained whisper.

Pedro wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you that he felt trapped between his own heart and the razor-sharp edge of what was right, what was fair. The guilt and longing were choking him, twisting his insides until all he could feel was the jagged ache of wanting something that was always just out of reach.

You took a deep breath, the cold air clouding in front of you like smoke.

"Are you happy?" you asked, your voice barely audible. A mirror of his very own "Do you love him?" from last year.

Pedro looked at you, his heart hammering in his chest. “I’m trying,” he said quietly, the truth in the words landing hard.

You nodded, your lips pressed together in a sad, resigned smile.

“Then that’s good enough for me.”

It was an unspoken agreement—a quiet acceptance that, once again, you were not meant to be. That your lives had written this story long before you’d ever had a say in it.

a/n: enough sadness, their time will come soon ;)

a like, reblog or comment, anything is very much appreciated <3

#pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fic #my writing #love is complicated fic

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

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Corruption Ch3

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four months, twenty days until D-Day

Finally, it took you ten full days to understand your abilities and make your suit. It did feel somewhat shameful by how much of a struggle it was to get everything ready. You had to rely on a close friend to make your suit and beg them to not say anything.

You were finally going to start your life as a super hero. Your secret identity had to be top secret. Mainly, because you were afraid of how Miguel would react if he saw you. You loved the man, but you were terrified of his villainous nature.

"Alright, suit is kind of tight, but it will have to work." You whispered, staring at yourself in the mirror.

The suit was tight against your skin, showing off each of your curves, breasts and ass. It almost felt sexual, but what heroes in the past wore baggy suits? Unsure if you wanted to do that research, you knew that you needed something that won't get your snagged on a flag or something.

Patting down your skirt, you glanced at the zipper you had custom made in case for an emergency bathroom visit. Honestly, it made you chuckle since you thought of such a thing. Miguel would probably laugh at you if he ever found out.

"Alright, now for the scary part." You inhaled deeply.

Opening your window, you took deep breathes. You were terrified, but without this leap of faith, how were you ever going to bring Alchemax to justice? How were you going to show Miguel the light in his heart?

"I can do this." You whispered before shooting your web and swinging into the city.

----------

Miguel hissed lowly as he sat in his apartment. There were a million things going through his head. One of them being how to perfect his spider genetic splicing DNA. He wanted to create the ultimate human. The superior human race.

Unable to think in the comfort of his own home, Miguel decided to take a walk around the city. He did need to buy a few things anyway. As he left his penthouse, Miguel grumbled lowly as he avoided the people around him.

How disgusting. All of these regular humans trying to smile and cozy up to Miguel. None of them had what it takes to be at his level. Unless they were willing to place themselves on his metal table for experimentation.

"Miguel, you won't believe this." Lyla appeared on his watch. Miguel lazily glanced towards his AI,

"Won't know until you say it."

"There are reports of a Spider-woman swinging across the city. People are in shock and whispering that the age of heroes might be making a comeback." She explained. Miguel scoffed,

"I'll believe it when I see it. Don't bother me with such nonsense."

Age of heroes his ass. Miguel knew better than to believe that such a time would revive. As he made his way into his local well-off supermarket, Miguel couldn't help but wonder why such reports would come to be.

A spider-women none the less. Miguel hadn't experimented on any women yet and everyone he did had perished. As he grabbed a cart, Miguel hissed to his ignorant thoughts. He shouldn't allow his genius brain subcome to such foolishness.

"Ah!!!" Someone screamed.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Miguel glanced behind him. His eyes twitched as he saw a fire break out. Just his luck. Making his way to the checkout, Miguel ignored the people's screams, continuing his purchase.

"Sir! You need to leave! It's dangerous!" One of the workers yelled. Miguel just ignored them,

"Dangerous?" Miguel resisted a chuckle as he finished his purchase.

Right as he left, there was an explosion. His eyes widen as he felt the wind push him down. Surprised, Miguel let out a soft groan as he slowly got up. As he did, Miguel felt another wave push him back down.

"I got you!" A woman yelled out.

Furrowing his brows, Miguel saw someone approach him. He grunted, feeling himself being lifted up. Which was quite a surprise since Miguel was a tall and heavy man. Glancing towards the brave fool who came to his rescue, Miguel's eyes widen in shook.

"Spider-woman?!" He nearly gasped in shock. You smiled softly towards him,

"The one and only!" You chirped.

Miguel felt nearly flabbergasted as he observed you. The one thing he had been trying to recreate was right in front of him. There was a surge of emotions coursing through his body.

"Are you alright?" You asked, patting Miguel off as you escaped the building with him.

"Allow me to have a blood sample," Was the first thing Miguel said. You flinched, taking a step back,

"Haha, that's a....uh, unusual request, but I'll have to decline." You said, trying to hide your nerves. Miguel grabbed your shoulders,

"You don't understand. I've been trying to create someone like you for years. Please, I need to know how-"

"Perhaps if we bump into each other at another time, I can give you an answer, but I really must go. Take care of yourself and don't get hurt, okay?"

Miguel reached out to you once more as you swung away. The look in his eyes were one of desperation and frustration. How were you here? How did he not notice such a fine, perfect specimen in his city? This whole place belonged to him....

Including you.

Grabbing his items, Miguel hurried back to his penthouse. He needed to research on you. Miguel needed to find out more about you. Miguel needed you in his lab!

----------

Finding a good building to land on, you let out a small squeal. You had been swinging around doing little things here and there and finally, finally, you managed to do something heroic. Best of all, you had saved Miguel.

Trying to cover the blush on your cheeks, you recalled the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The look on his face was something else too. You've never seen him so shock, so amazed. If only he looked at you like that and not Spider-Woman.

"Mhm, but he just had to ask for a blood sample. I almost gave in too! I have to be careful!" You whined.

Sitting at the edge of the building, you glanced down at the messy, beautiful city below. You were going to have to get better at Super Hero stuff if you wanted to make any real change.

That, and you would have to control your emotions better if you ever wanted to change and heal Miguel. He was far too talented and smart to fall down the same fate as his father.

"I will save him."

----------

Miguel was on a man hunt. He had gotten Lyla to pull up anything on this new Spider-Woman, despite there not being much. He had to know who you were and where you came from.

Unable to retrieve much, Miguel decided to do things the hard way. He pulled up every single file on women who lived within or near the city. Miguel was determined to know who you were. Even if he had to do things the long and hard way.

"Let's see. Judging by her body, she is defiantly within the age ground of twenties to thirties. Let's start removing everyone else."

"Yes, sir." Lyla replied, shorting the age gap.

Miguel grunted since the list was still quite large. At least, whoever you were, you didn't cover your hair. Just a cute little mask that covered the top half of your face. Narrowing the list shorter, Miguel just inhaled since it was still a hefty list.

"Is speed dating out of the question?" Lyla asked with a grin. Miguel let out a rare laugh,

"Highly."

Wondering how to approach this, Miguel started to pace around his living room. He needed you. He wanted you. You were the key to creating the ultimate human race. If Miguel couldn't find you naturally, then he would have to make you come to him.

"I will make her mine."

----------

It was going to be another rough day at work. You had entered Alchemax with two large coffees in hand. Clocking in, you let out a heavy sigh as you made your way to Miguel's office. He had been blowing up your phone all morning.

"Miguel, could you maybe now tell me what's going on?" You asked softly as you opened his door.

"(Y/N), finally! We have a BIG day ahead of us!"

"We do?" You questioned as Miguel approached you, taking his coffee out of your hand, "Ah-Are we doing the seahorses?" You asked innocently.

"Ha!" Miguel chuckled darkly as he patted your head, "What am I to do without your blissful innocence."

"Awe, are we going back to spiders?"

"Always." Miguel hummed as he drank his coffee, "Have you heard about the new Spider-Woman in town?"

You felt a nervous sweat run down your back.

"I-I have! Was that...not your doing?" You asked, knowing that it sort of was, but Miguel didn't need to know that.

"No, and that's what infuriates me." He spat, placing his drink down, "I need to know how she came to be. I will not be stopping my spider experiments anytime soon. Not until she submits herself to me, or I recreate her very existence."

"Miguel...You can't have someone submit themselves to you like a trophy. You'd have to understand them...and honestly, if she really is a hero...I don't think...she will like...what you're...doing...here." Your voice kept getting lower and lower as Miguel slowly approached you.

"(Y/N), do you think what I'm doing here is wrong? Trying to advance us measly humans into something greater?" Miguel asked, twisting his views into yours. You bit your lower lip, holding your tablet close to your chest,

"N-No...I-I think the idea...is right..."

"Oh, (Y/N), try not to think too much, okay?" Miguel hummed as he casually stroked your cheek, "Remember, our work here will be one for the history books."

You tried your best to calm your racing heart as you leaned into Miguel's touch. How could such cruel words come out through his sexy mouth. His low tone just made your brain fuzzy. And his touch? Oh, you were feeling that down to your panties.

"Okay," You whispered, giving into his demands, "What will we start with today?"

It was going to be a long road, but if you couldn't change Miguel as you, perhaps you had to change him as Spider-Woman. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel will listen to you with the mask on. It was a slim chance, but you wanted to save him so bad.

"While I start collecting more spiders, I want you to find me more willing test subjects."

"B-But Miguel, y-you know...how I feel about going to the prisons." You whimpered, tugging against his sleeve. Miguel just chuckled, lifting your chin and leaned towards you,

"You can do it." He hummed and saw the tears about to spill from yours eyes, "I'll have Lyla accompany you. Does that help?"

"I guess," You whimpered once more. Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he had Lyla downloaded to your watch.

"Off you go. I want you to be back to file down each of my spiders."

"Yes, sir."

Shaking as you hurried out of Miguel's office, you tried to calm down. Miguel was being extra touchy today...and cruel. The only good thing about you leaving was that you could finally see the prisoners in a new light. As a hero, you needed to learn what villains think like...aside from Miguel.

"Are you ready to go, (Y/N)?" Lyla asked, appearing before you. You just smiled towards the AI,

"Yep! Let's go!"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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pupuyvs · 7 months ago

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final

Kim Chaewon.

A name that sparked many emotions. To some it was hatred, to others it was fear, to most it was adoration and envy.

Envy was an interesting emotion to Chaewon, for someone to envy her life made no sense to her. Originally Chaewon would have understood, after all she was rich, life was easy to her. But as she looks back in her life, was her life worthy of envy?

She looks back to when she was five, when her sister was born, and the joy she felt when her father left two days after she was born with a mutter of disappointment of it being another girl, and her mother a month later. For them leaving her then month old sister meant it wasn’t Chaewon's fault they never came home, but instead their distaste for being parents in general.

She looks back to when she was eight, as she sees her driver get on his knees and beg to not be fired. A consequence that he is only facing because Chaewon didn’t want to go to piano lessons causing them to be five minutes late.

She looks back to when she’s ten and coming home early due to her father being home, the excitement of seeing his car in the driveway buzzing in her chest as she ran to his office. Only for it to disappear when he kneels to fix her shoelaces and whispers, “Don’t mess this up for me,” in her ear, when he stands another man and a girl her age appear, he only came back for a business arrangement.

She looks back to when she was twelve and begging her mother, who was in Europe, on the phone to let her try cheerleading after finding her mother’s old uniform in a box a maid was throwing out. And the happiness when her mother said yes, as thoughts of her mom taking time off to watch her compete filled her mind.

She looks back to when she was thirteen, sweat pouring down her face as she holds a cheer trophy, the heat of people patting her back in congratulations making her uncomfortable. Her head feeling light as she looked through the crowd with urgency looking for her parent’s faces, they had promised to be there after all. The way her heart dropped when her nanny parted the crowd and headed for her, a look of pity on her face as she revealed her parents couldn’t make it and how they would call her when she got home.

They never called.

She looks back to when she was fifteen and had her first classes without Yizhuo, Minjeong and Aeri. She remembered how a girl, whose name she can’t remember, sat beside her and shared her textbook with her, the shipment of hers being delayed. She remembers the girl’s pretty smile when Chaewon had invited her to sit at lunch with her and her friends. She remembers the way tears filled the girl’s eyes when Aeri loudly asked her what she was doing when she tried to sit at the table, and how she needed to know her place. And most importantly she remembers the pang in her chest when she looked at her for help and Chaewon looked away.

She never saw the girl after that.

Looking back at all of this, Chaewon asks herself, did she have a happy life?

To answer this, she needed to ask herself another question, this one more heavy, who was she?

Happiness has a different meaning to everyone, to know if you’ve had a happy life you need to be able to define what happiness is to you.

And Chaewon had no idea who she was.

If she were to ask others they would probably say Chaewon was a pretty rich cheerleader.

All shallow.

And was Chaewon truly that shallow?

She would love to say no, she was more than just those three things.

But was she? Was Chaewon more than just the pretty rich cheerleader?

She didn’t know.

Sitting in front of her vanity mirror as a woman tugs at her hair so it can be perfect for the night she had waited for since learning of its existence, Chaewon could only laugh, here she was, someone who others saw as the epitome of confidence now struggling with her own self identity, to the point where her own reflection was unrecognizable.

It made her feel sick.

She wants to blame Yizhuo, or even Jihye for this sudden dilemma, but she knows they were just catalysts in the inevitable downfall of Kim Chaewon.

Eighteen years is a long time to not have a sense of self. Too long.

But could anyone blame her? When you’ve never had to make a single choice for yourself, how can you define who you are?

To her parents she was their oldest, the heir to her fathers company.

To her friends she was the “leader” of their group.

To the school she was someone everyone wanted to be.

But as she stares at herself, Yizhuo’s words cycle through her head.

Chaewon was a coward.

“What a nice start,” she thinks to herself. Her train of thought is interrupted by a knock on her door. The door opens after she tells them to enter.

“You look so beautiful,” her mother says with a gasp.

After the night her parents met Jihye, she had expected her mother to leave just like her father the day after. However, much to her surprise her mom revealed she was staying until Chaewon’s graduation. And although Chaewon wanted to be nonchalant, she couldn’t help the childish excitement from the prospect of her mom being home.

“Thank you,” she says back softly.

Her mom nods before sitting on the edge of Chaewon’s bed.

The two sit in silence, the sound of the woman’s straightener closing and opening being the only sound in the room. Once the woman finishes she leaves, after thanking her the two Kims sit in silence once more.

After a bit she hears light thumping, in the reflection of the mirror sees her mom patting the space next to her on the bed.

Chaewon stands from her chair and moves next to her mother, sitting down she finds herself only being able to look at her hands.

“Chae…what's wrong,” her mother asks her.

“Nothing.”

“I can tell that’s not true,” her mother starts as she brings a hand up to Chaewon’s head and pushes back a piece of hair that was curtaining her face, “So tell me what’s wrong.”

Chaewon just shakes her head, she didn’t want to confide in someone that was essentially a stranger to her, even if the child in her wanted to.

She hears her mother sigh before letting them fall into silence. After a few moments her mom speaks again, “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”

Chaewon looks up in shock, she thought her mother had forgotten about Jihye.

Her reaction is all Yoona needed as she gives her a knowing smile, “It is. I’m assuming your fathers reaction had a part in it.”

At the mention of that night Chaewon closes her eyes, physically trying to bite back the nausea that overtakes her anytime she thinks of Jihye and how her actions and what she stood for harmed her.

“Wonnie,” the nickname her mom used to call her whenever she had to tell her she couldn’t make it to one of her events, “Baby, tell me what happened.”

The dam breaks.

Her mom brings her into a hug, and Chaewon immediately melts into.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

The words cause her to sob even more, like a child she grips tightly onto her mother’s shirt and buries her face into her shoulder.

The comfort of a parent was something she had yearned for for years. And finally, she had it, at the apex of her agony, where she has no sense of self, it was finally here, and it made her want to scream.

After a while she finds herself coming to a natural calm, embarrassment flooding her as she pulls away from her mother. When she gains the courage to finally look up at her, she’s surprised to see her eyes also filled with tears.

Yoona gently wipes her daughter’s face, “Feel better?”

Chaewon nods bashfully.

“Want to tell me what happened now?”

And to Chaewon’s surprise, she does. The words spill out of her like this was a regular thing her and her mom did, but it wasn’t. And maybe that’s why a few sentences in the doubts come in tenfold.

I don’t know why she’s acting like she cares now, she hasn’t for years. I’m going to tell her all of this and for what? Her to go to some other country months on end so she can’t follow up, ridiculous.

Chaewon has to wonder, are these thoughts a defining trait to her? Is spite something she is not only capable of, but something that should be expected of her? She hopes not.

When she finishes her spiel her mother is wide eyed, “Wow, that was…a lot,” she says, causing Chaewon to nod in agreement.

Chaewon waits with bated breath for her mom to continue, she always dreamed of telling her mom these things and receiving what she would deem as the best advice she could ever hear due to her mom’s wisdom.

“However, it sounds like you already know what to do.”

That's it?

Chaewon cannot stop the way her jaw clenches immediately, “What?”

Her mom shrugs softly, “From what you told me, it seems you already know what to do.”

Chaewon scoffs, “Of course, I don’t even know why I bothered. You have no idea what I’m going through, and never have, and that's why it’s so simple for you to write this off so easily.”

Impulsive.

Kim Chaewon is impulsive.

“You know what,” she says while standing up, “You’re right, I do got it. I know you used up all your yearly mother hours so you don’t have to stay anymore and pretend to care, especially over something you don’t understan-”

“Her name was Yuri.”

“What?”

“Kwon Yuri, she and her family inherited a mandarin farm in Jeju but to make some extra money she would work in my family summer home.”

Her mother pauses, before sighing, “She captivated me when I first met her for she was everything I wasn’t. She was kind, humble, resourceful, smart, god was she smart, and most importantly she was free. For the first time in my life, I was enamored with someone.”

Yoona laughs, one filled with a tinge of bittersweetness, “My parents used to wonder why I was so interested in going back to Jeju every summer instead of abroad with them, but I couldn’t tell them that I had…cared for someone who worked for us.”

Chaewon watches as her mother’s jaw clenches slightly, “Then the summer after I graduated came, and my parents revealed they were sending me abroad to study. We, Yuri and I, had written to each other constantly, letters were more personal, Yuri had said back then, but it wasn’t the same, we were growing apart. And then on my twenty-first birthday my parents revealed I’d be getting married to your father,” Yoona pauses, she takes a breath to calm herself, “Yuri…wasn’t happy to say the least. I had invited her to the wedding, which I know was stupid, but part of me back then wished that she’d come, and that she’d…”

Her mother doesn’t finish that sentence, the words “she’d save me,” going unsaid, but Chaewon knew.

After taking another calming breath Yoona looks up at her, a pained smile painting her face, “I tell you all this to say, I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I know enough to understand, and to know what I don’t want you to go through. I said it sounded like you had it figured out because while you told me everything, everytime you mentioned that girl and the prospect of losing her you sounded just like me when I risked losing…her. The difference between us is you are far more braver than I am.”

Yoona reaches to the space next to her grabbing two papers and handing it to Chaewon, “I had originally gotten these for you and Yeonjun, I see now he is not the one you want, so instead use these for you and Jihye.”

Looking down, Chaewon's eyes widen as she sees two one-way tickets to anywhere.

“Mom, I can’t-”

Her mom cuts her off by putting a hand up, “Go explore the world with her.”

Chaewon’s eyes start to well with tears for the second time that evening, “What if she says no?”

“She might, but she also might say yes.”

Yoona stands from the bed with a clap, “Now let’s finish getting you ready, you have an important night.”

Chaewon nods before pausing, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you regret not running after that woman?”

Yoona’s eyebrows furrow as she takes a moment to think, before shaking her head, “No, through I cared for her deeply, if I had ran after her I wouldn’t have had you and your sister, and I know I haven’t been the best mother in the world, but I would never trade you guys for anything.”

Not waiting for a response Yoona sits Chaewon on the chair in front of her vanity, “Now get ready the limo will be here in an hour.”

Chaewon pauses before gasping, “My dress, Jihye said she’d be wearing black today and the one I have planned out is matching Yeonjun’s colors.”

“I’ll have that all worked out, don't worry, just fix your makeup and I’ll bring you the dress.”

Chaewon nods as her mother reaches for her door to leave before calling for her once more.

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

She watches as a tear slides down her mother’s face before clearing her throat, “I love you too.”

And while Chaewon knows this moment with her mom won’t fix the years of pain she’s dealt with, however it’s at least a start.

The tension is heavy as Chaewon enters the limo.

On one side sat Yizhuo and Wonyoung, a big enough gap to show that Yizhuo was forced to be there with them.

Across from them sat Aeri and Minjeong, both sending glares at Yizhuo, Aeri more than Minjeong.

Since the party the group had not had a chance to make up with Yizhuo, partly due to lack of trying and Yizhuo focusing more on getting Jimin back than making up with her friends.

Chaewon had tried to reach out to Yizhuo but after her fifth text she found herself being blocked, though it had hurt she also understood, she hadn’t stood up for Yizhuo and due to her cowardice Yizhuo had lost the girl she had wanted since she first saw her.

Chaewon decides to sit in between Wonyoung and Yizhuo due to the couple opposite of them being disgustingly close, and secretly she had missed her best friend.

“New color I see,” Aeri comments to which Chaewon just nods back to, “It looks nice.”

Muttering a thanks, the limo falls into silence.

They soon run into traffic due to multiple high schools also having their prom that night.

Breaking the silence Aeri huffs in annoyance, “Okay Wonyoung, what the fuck is up with you?”

The question causes the youngest to freeze as the rest look at her. Chaewon had noticed that the girl was acting a bit strange, but out of consideration decided to not bring it up, Aeri had not done the same.

Yizhuo speaks for the first time since she’s gotten into the car, “Why don’t you just leave her alone?”

Aeri rolls her eyes, “And here comes Captain Yizhuo to save the day.”

“Fuck off, yeah?”

“No why don’t you fuck off? I don’t even know why you’re here, don’t you have a new friend group with your girlfriend?”

At the mention of Jimin Yizhuo sits up straight, “Don’t talk about her.”

“Or what,” Aeri asks, leaning forward.

“I’m dating Yujin!”

The group falls silent, and Chaewon looks at Wonyoung who looks shocked at what she had just said.

“What,” Chaewon asks.

Wonyoung winces slightly, “I’m…dating Yujin. And have been since the beginning of the year. An-And I don’t care what any of you think because I really like her, so!”

And though the girl had tried to say it confidently all the girls could see the nervousness written on her face.

Aeri leans back into her seat before turning to Minjeong, “You owe me that necklace.”

Minjeong groans as Wonyoung looks at the two confused, “What?”

Aeri turns to Wonyoung before shaking her head, “I caught you with the girl the other day in the chemistry lab, she was asking you to prom, I was gonna step in but you accepted, usually I would’ve put you on blast but…due to other circumstances I’ve decided to stay silent.”

Aeri ends her sentence by staring directly in Chaewon’s eyes, tilting her head to the side she gives her a knowing smile, “Is there anything you want to confess Chaewon?”

Panic is not an emotion Chaewon was familiar with, but now as Aeri stares her down, it’s all she could feel. She knows this is her defining moment, what she decides here lays the platform for the rest of her life. As crazy as it sounds it's the truth, if she lies here she loses Jihye and proves her mother wrong, that she wasn’t that brave. But if she tells them the truth, she has a chance to earn that title given to her by her mother, and she really doesn’t want to lose Jihye.

Yizhuo’s scoff is what stops her mind from reeling, “Some things never change.”

That’s enough for Chaewon to speak, “I’m dating Yoo Jihye, and if you have a problem with it I have no issue ending our friendship and keeping it business like it should’ve been from the start.”

All the girls look shocked, except for Aeri, who just looks amused, “You can calm down, I knew already.”

“What? There’s no way you did.”

“You’re right at first I had no clue, until the party. I mean when she approached you I was a bit confused, but I brushed it off she was terribly fucked up so maybe she was confused. But then Yizhuo had her temper tantrum,” this earns her the middle finger from said girl, “and it suddenly started clicking. What tied it all together is how annoyingly bitchy and depressed you became when she didn’t show up last week and most of this week.”

Chaewon’s eyebrows furrows at the revelation, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“At first I almost did, but like I said you were depressed as hell and I realized as long as it’s not crazy ass Yena or annoying Yeonjun, which I’m still confused about, I can let it slide. This doesn’t mean I understand, cause trust me I don’t, it doesn’t make sense whatsoever. However, since you’re doing all this it must mean she’ll be around in the future and since we’re stuck together I’ll try and understand.”

Chaewon could sob, but she refuses to ruin her makeup for the second time that night.

“Thanks Aeri.”

“Whatever,” she sighs, “This also extends to you two, if those…girls make you happy then so be it.”

Wonyoung immediately thanks her, while Yizhuo just nods.

The limo finally arrives at the venue the school had rented out for the night, a red carpet at the entrance, and one of their teachers acting like a valet stands at the front.

Their driver opens their door and holds his hand out for each girl to use as they get out. As the others enter, Chaewon stops Yizhuo, “Can I talk to you?”

The girl nods, albeit reluctantly and allows the Kim to drag her to the side.

Chaewon breathes out, “I’ve never done this before so bear with me…I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best friend to you and I didn’t stick up for you when I should’ve, but I’ve been thinking about what you said and you’re right I am a coward. A huge one, but I’d really like to not be one and-”

Yizhuo cuts her off, “Chaewon, relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

Yizhuo laughs, “You’re not, but that's okay. You’re right about sucking at that, but I’m thankful you bothered to apologize. The truth is, I was a bit of an asshole too that night, I tried to push you to say you were dating Jihye and it wasn’t the right time at all. I took my hurt from Jimin leaving me and pushed it onto you, so I’m sorry too.”

Chaewon just nods before smiling at Yizhuo, “Does this mean we’re good?”

Yizhuo smiles before hugging the girl, “Of course, like Aeri said we’re stuck together.”

“Wait, how are you and Jimin?”

Yizhuo pulls back, her smile impossibly bigger, “We’re working on getting back together, we’re actually matching tonight.”

With that Yizhuo starts to drag Chaewon inside, both girls happy to have their best friend back.

Yizhuo had peeled from Chaewon’s side as soon as they entered the venue, looking for Jimin.

Standing to the side, Chaewon took this chance to look for Jihye, though it was proving to be difficult as the room was dark and their senior class was quite big.

Finally spotting her near the drinks Chaewon started to part through the crowd, people trying to stop her to say hi but none of them mattered now that she had seen the taller girl.

As she gets closer she sees Jihye talking to another girl, she immediately starts to glare when she sees its Natty.

“This girl just won’t stop,” she mutters to herself, before stepping closer to make herself known to the two, “Hi Natty, if you don’t mind I need to borrow my girlfriend really quickly.”

She doesn’t give her a chance to respond, the shocked look on her face satisfying enough, as she pulls Jihye onto the dance floor, a soft song playing now.

When she stops she finally faces the taller, everything is suddenly right with the world.

“What are you doing,” Jihye asks her, her tone not harsh but also not welcoming.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

Chaewon sighs before wrapping the girls arms around her waist and her own around Jihye’s neck. Closing any gap between them she leans up to whisper in her ear, “Dance with me.”

When she feels the girl freeze, she smiles thinking she had her right where she wanted her, until Jihye pulls away from her. Grabbing her hand, Jihye pulls both of them to the hallway.

Once in the hallway Jihye turns to her, disbelief painting her face, “You can’t just walk in and act like nothing happened…”

And Chaewon wanted to listen, but the hallway was a lot brighter than the hall, and this is the first time she had seen Jihye closely since the party

Lifting her hand up she rubs Jihye’s face, tracing the bruises and cuts littering her face.

“Look what she did to you…does it hurt?”

Even though she’s frustrated with the girl she shakes her head, “Not as much anymore, but you would know that if you came to visit me.”

Chaewon sighs before removing her hand, Jihye immediately missing her touch.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared,” at the look on Jihye’s face Chaewon immediately speaks again, “Not of anyone seeing me, of your reaction.”

“You still should’ve come, I needed you.”

Chaewon frowns at the girl’s words, “I’m sorry, about everything actually. I’m sorry about keeping you a secret, I’m sorry for forcing you to be okay with me and Yeonjun, I’m sorry for calling you selfish, and most importantly I’m sorry for stepping away from you at the party.”

Sighing, she looks away from the soccer player, “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, it’s just my whole life has been planned out for me since the moment I was born; the way I walk, the way I talk, how I dress, everything. Due to this I never even considered falling in love, until I met you.”

Chaewon chuckles to herself, “I heard I really suck at apologies so I guess what I’m trying to say is, I know who I am now is not worthy of you, but if you’d let me I’d really like to try and become worthy of you.”

Looking up, she's surprised to see tears filling Jihye’s eyes.

“I messed up again didn’t I? Disregard all that then, let me try this agai-”

She’s cut off by the girl hugging her, “You love me?”

It takes Chaewon a few seconds to catch what the girl said, too busy thinking about how nice it feels to be back in her arms, “I do,” she says after a few seconds.

Pulling away Jihye looks at her, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you, you hurt me really badly, but I really missed you and I really love you too.”

“Yeah,” Chaewon asks with a laugh, her hand going back up to Jihye’s face.

“Yeah,” Jihye says bringing her own hand up to hold Chaewon’s

“Good, this makes my next question easier, what do you think about coming to see the world with me?”

Jihye furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I mean my mom has gifted me two plane tickets to anywhere and I want you to come with me. Maybe earn you back under the Eiffel Tower,” Chaewon says nervously laughing, “You can say no of course, I know you have to prepare for Andong, but I don’t know I’d just like for you to come.”

“Chae…I..can’t accept that, I mean I can’t even afford that.”

Chaewon quickly shakes her head, “You don’t have to worry about the price, my mom will handle all that, just bring yourself.”

“I don’t know Chae…”

“Please, even if you decide you don’t want to be with me anymore I just would really like it if you came.”

Before Jihye could say anything else a voice comes from out of nowhere.

“Girl just say yes, when the hell will we ever have a chance like that?”

Turning they see Yujin, “My bad I saw you two walk out and decided to follow just in case. Not important, bro you gotta say yes.”

“Excuse me for a second,” Jihye says, pulling away from Chaewon.

Heading for Yujin she grips her shoulder and pulls her into a corner, where they start talking.

And though she should really be worried about what they’re discussing, Chaewon can’t help but notice how good Jihye looks in a suit, especially one matching her.

The conversation ends with Jihye getting hit in the back of the head and Yujin dragging her over.

“She’s going. Also, hi Chaewon, heard you accepted Wonyoung and I, which is like, super cool. Anyways, I’ll leave you guys to plan,” she turns to Jihye, “Be back in within the next 5 minutes before Jimin starts hunting, and you know she’s not as forgiving as us.”

Laughing as the other girl enters the hall again she turns back to Jihye, “I know she said yes, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Jihye sighs softly, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” Chaewon’s heart soars, “like I said you hurt me, but…Yujin is right we never get chances like this and I’d be stupid to turn it down. Being with you is cool too I guess.”

Chaewon jumps on the girl hugging her tightly, “Thank you thank you thank you, I swear you won’t regret saying yes. I will grovel in every single country I swear.”

Laughing Jihye puts Chaewon down gently, “I’ll be holding you to that.”

Chaewon nods, “As you should.”

Grabbing her hand the two fall in a comfortable silence before Jihye speaks again, “We should probably go back in, they’re going to announce prom queen.”

But Chaewon doesn’t move leaving Jihye confused, “Chae?”

Chaewon just pulls Jihye to her, “I’m not in any rush, are you?”

Hugging the shorter girl Jihye shakes her head with a smile, “Nope, I’m too busy thinking about what countries I’m going to be enjoying myself in.”

“Yeah?”

Jihye nods.

Smiling Chaewon looks up at her causing Jihye to look down at her.

“I think I want to do that too.”

“Yeah,” Jihye asks.

“Yeah,” Chaewon answers.

Jihye pulls away with her hand out for Chaewon to grab, “Shall we then?”

Chaewon doesn’t respond instead she grabs her hand and begins to pull them, running through the venues hall towards the exit, a smile on both of their faces.

Kim Chaewon may not know much about herself, but she finds comfort in knowing one thing is certain, she is madly in love Yoo Jihye.

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wingedshadowfan · 22 days ago

Note

A loving relationship where she was struck by caitlyn's rifle without hesitation when she didnt want a child to witness/ get accidently shot. Vi's identity/ past trauma with prison and enforcers put in the back burner just for her to reclaim by going down on her knees after self harming in the very same cell moments before. Clearly she is not in a right state of mind.

thanks for the ask!

i'm not sure if your problem is w/ what i said, w/ what caitlyn and/or vi did, w/ caitvi as a concept or w/ the choices of the writers of arcane - i am just a fan who agrees w/ their vision in this specific regard and i obv have no control over their work, but let me address this piece by piece anyway:

"she was struck by caitlyn's rifle without hesitation when she didn't want a child to witness/get accidentally shot" is true but it's also ignoring the larger context of what happened and why it happened, which i've discussed before, but many others i've interacted w/ on here have as well, perhaps even more extensively, but the short answer: caitlyn was very much not in her right mind either. she hallucinated jinx before that, she fought sevika for her life, she was in an extremely high pressure situation and didn't seem to be registering what vi was telling her (vi was also abt to get her brains blown out by isha) before she physically interfered, the vents almost blew them away, and ofc let's not forget jinx is a thing of caitlyn's nightmares. we can clearly see caitlyn repeatedly hit the wall w/ her rifle and put her forehead to it after the fight is over?? is that normal headspace behavior to you? she tries to leave and remove herself from the argument w/ vi (in which vi likens her to her mother(and coworlers)'s killer and her torturer), vi catches her arm to stop her, and that's when caitlyn snaps and hits her - literal fight or flight (for the vi defenders: you may also see how this mirrors what happened between vi and powder, and perhaps even between vander and silco if you think age should've been a factor in these circumstances, and not trauma triggered by/mixed in w/ intense emotions)

"vi's identity/past trauma with prison and enforcers put in the back burner just for her to reclaim [by having lesbian sex in a prison cell]" this isn't jinx hate but who locked vi in that cell again, bcuz i thought your issue was w/ caitvi's loving relationship? how is the sex scene happening in the prison cell caitlyn's fault or her choice when vi clearly initiates it and remains in the cell after caitlyn unlocked it? not to mention this happening there is symbolical to their first meeting and a metaphor for how vi has always been caged by the identity of the protector until she was let out by the only person she loved that she never had to protect/feel that same responsibility for. furthermore, vi doesn't talk abt her prison trauma and the first person she opens up to abt her past who actually listens and gives her compassion is caitlyn. close enough. caitlyn who, at her lowest as commander, forbids the use of the kind of cell vi was kept in. besides, i don't know what you wanted caitlyn to do differently in that moment: she came, she unlocked the door, she noticed vi's knuckles, she walked in and stood next to vi, she tried to make a joke to distract vi from her self-deprecating spiral (and in doing so she basically admitted how well she knows vi, that she accepts her the way she is, and how much her actions were motivated by her love for her), she clearly didn't expect vi to forgive her, let alone decide to kiss her right there, in that moment so it's not like she planned it to or had a say in the circumstances. and yes, perhaps vi reclaimed something, be it her prison trauma or her ability to make choices for herself and put her own needs first, for once without running after others to protect them and take responsibility for their actions

"going down on her knees" there's not many other ways to give oral to a woman standing up without anything to sit/lie down on and if you see pleasing your partner (not just by choice, but eagerly even) this way as inherently demeaning, degrading or "dirty work" that puts you below your partner in your power dynamics, then irdk what to tell you other than maybe get checked for misogyny and/or lesbophobia?? (a post abt this here)

"after self harming in the very same cell moments before" why do you think she self harmed? she basically had only two people left: she thought she'd lost jinx (that she'd ran away like before and didn't want to be found bcuz she didn't want to help, not necessarily that she was going to off herself) and that she'd lost caitlyn by letting jinx out - vi says very clearly exactly what she's blaming herself for, and when caitlyn unlocks the cell, she walks in with vi. ofc caitlyn doesn't have any prison trauma, but this is a very clear show-not-tell that she believes her place is next to vi if that's what vi wants. and she proceeds to (imo by making a bad joke that she believes is funny lol) tell vi that she facilitated vi's choice to free jinx, aka that she implicitly trusted vi and her judgement, that she understood and accepted that vi would keep choosing family, that she was ready to let go of her revenge and atone for her mistakes - and we can see the effect of this realization on vi's face in real time. vi realizes she hasn't lost everyone, she still has caitlyn, the old caitlyn - from before her trauma, anger and grief swallowed her

"clearly she is not in a right state of mind" much can be said abt whether she was or not bcuz she'd been stabbed so badly it took 3 doctors to patch her up and i assume she'd been in a coma/asleep for at least a few days, jinx had just locked her in a cell and ran away again (traumatic on multiple levels), she thought she'd lost caitlyn too, that she was only there to goad her and say she told her so, etc (caitlyn has been consistently defying vi's expectations since they first met lol) and i can argue that what caitlyn did and told her neutralized/put many of those factors into perspective for her but even if you don't care for my analysis on why what vi did was in character and not a moment of insanity (albeit maybe impulse): vi stayed. she could've left forever if she'd realized she'd just been impulsive or high off her meds or whatever during the prison scene and she didn't actually love caitlyn or want to stay w/ her. but she was there w/ mel, jayce and caitlyn during battle strategizing, she fought in the war, and remained next to caitlyn in the aftermath. i think that's a loving relationship??

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whore4abby · 1 year ago

Text

italian summer; abby anderson

part two

part one

warnings; younger!reader (20), older!abby (28), mentions of nudity, masturbation (r) internalised homophobia (r), mdni

wc; 1.6k

you wake up to the sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains that hang over the window at the side of your bed. you feel a little groggy as you stretch your arms out, your vision quickly focusing on the room. you roll over and sit by the edge of the bed before letting out a loud yawn as you blink your eyes awake, stretching your limbs as you put both feet on the floor and stand up.

you walk towards the door connecting you to your shared bathroom with abby and swing it open. your eyes widening as you catch abby mid-change and are immediately frozen in place. your stomach doing somersaults as you’re met with the sight of abby's bare chest as she slips out of her sleeping t-shirt. her chest covered with a delicate spray of freckles that are lightly dusted across her tanned skin.

she senses your presence and smiles, the drowsy grin spreading across her sun-kissed face slowly. "good morning~" she throws the discarded shirt onto her un-made bed before grabbing a clean one to wear, obviously not phased by her partial nudity in front of you. you stand for a moment, contemplating whether or not to turn around and leave but the temptation to glance down at her tits is becoming harder to ignore with each fleeting second.

a feeling of guilt floods over you as you look down at her chest for a split second, your eyes focusing straight onto her puffy nipples before you rip your gaze away just as she pulls the clean shirt over her head, smoothing it down over her torso.

“see you downstairs?” her voice low and alluring as she raises an eyebrow. you look back up into her eyes and pray to god she didn’t notice you staring at her like a fucking pervert. little did you know that the idea of you looking at her like that has abby filled with utter self-satisfaction and pride in the way she’s able to fluster you with such a simple act as changing her shirt.

“yeah, i’ll be down in a second…i just gotta….“ you trail off your sentence, gesturing towards the sink. she smirks and looks you up and down briefly, taking in the way your shorts are clinging to your hips and how good your thighs look in them before she makes her way out of the room.

you hear her footsteps bounce down the stairs and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror, feeling immense amounts of shame - why do you have to feel such a way about another woman, let alone the older sister of your best friend.

thoughts of doubt about your own identity swirling around in your brain, but one thought remains at the forefront of your mind - why couldn’t you just be into guys like every other girl you know. “god im a fuckin freak.” you mumble to yourself before grabbing your toothbrush and turning the faucet on.

after spending an overly suspicious time in the bathroom borderline-psychotically contemplating your whole existence, you eventually make your way through the villa and towards the kitchen. the sounds of plates and cutlery clashing and clanging fill the air. you walk into the kitchen and notice you’re surrounded only by the adults, with lily nowhere to be seen. your eyebrows furrow in confusion but you still take a seat at the table. “where’s lily?” you ask, not really talking to anyone in particular.

abby looks up from her newspaper and waves her hand dismissively towards the patio doors, “she went to hang out with some local kids.” she takes note of the disappointment on your face and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “hey, you can hang out with me if you want. i can show you around the town?” you try to hide your excitement about spending the day with abby but a little shy smile breaks out across your face as you nod, “yeah. as long as you don’t mind.” your cheeks hurt as you try your hardest to supress your smile, beyond happy to spend the day with her.

“of course i don’t mind, sweetheart!” she smiles widely and pushes a coffee mug towards you, waiting for you to sit down and eat breakfast before you guys head off.

you both pass through the perfectly tended gardens, the sky dotted with a few stray clouds above your heads. you giggle timidly as you watch abby waving to the gardener as you walk through the countless apricot trees, the lush grass brushing across your ankles.

eventually after a short stroll filled with idle conversation and some borderline flirting that had you giggling and squirming, the two of you make it to what you can only assume is the town center. “you see this?” she points to a building in front of you and you shake your head, shielding your eyes from the sun as you glance up at her. “that’s the oldest cathedral in the city….opened in the 13th century. has a crypt underneath it too.”

“is there anything you don’t know?” you smirk up at her and cause her to let out a little chuckle before she goes on to explain more history to you as you stare at her in awe of her seemingly endless intelligence.

you eventually stop by the river, the plush grass tickles the backs of your legs as you lay down beside her and lean up on your elbows to gaze at abby. “whatcha staring at?” she murmurs, looking you up and down and not even trying to hide the fact that she’s totally checking you out.

she takes another deep drag and blows out the smoke a couple seconds later, extending her arm out and offering you the cigarette. you smirk and open up your mouth for her to wedge it between your lips, “there you go, that’s a good girl.” she purrs as you take a drag, her un-occupied hand skimming gently across your bare thigh. your eyes grow wide and you splutter a little, the smoke filtering out through your lips in a cloud. “you’re always so nervous around me…its cute.”

she moves her hand to your back to soothe you as you cough out the remaining bitter smoke from your lungs, desperately avoiding eye contact with her as you know you'll make a total fool of yourself. she grasps your chin in her hand, forcing you to look into her eyes and giving you a knowing look. you realise that she’s probably taken note of all the sneaky lust-filled glances you had been throwing at her over the last couple days and you just wish the floor would open and swallow you.

“cmon, its just me you don’t have to be shy.” she watches as your eyes trail down her face and towards her lips and her eyebrows raise slightly before she throws the cigarette to the ground and cups you face with both hands, “you’re so pretty, baby. can i kiss you?” you nod and she moves in to brush her lips against yours, catching your bottom lip in between hers and kissing you softly.

when she pulls away she brings her hand up to cup your cheek and she then brushes her thumb up and down your cheek, stroking your skin lovingly, “prettiest girl.” you pause for a second before leaning back up and connecting your lips again, not giving her time to react as you move to straddle her. she smirks against your lips and pushes you back. “nuh uh…we gotta be good, you know that.” she shakes her head and sits up. she pushes you away and stands up, dusting off her shorts and reaching for your hand.

you pout and take her hand, letting her strong arms pull you back up to your feet. “that was your first kiss, huh?” she teases, rolling her eyes and shoving you playfully, your legs buckling and almost knocking you off your feet. you scoff and try to tackle her but she catches you and pins your arms down to your sides. “yknow i’m much stronger than you, right? i could beat you in a fight easy.” you sigh in defeat and look up at her innocently, “just wan’ another kiss.”

“don't tell anybody though…keep this between us.” she lets go of you and lowers her head again, leaning in to press another kiss onto your waiting lips, lingering for a second before pulling back. “there, you happy now?” you giggle and nod, grabbing onto her hand and swinging it back and forth as she looks at you in amusement. “we should get back home…” she mutters sadly as you both start to walk away from the river and back onto the dirt path.

the rest of the night you spent laying awake, tossing and turning all night with abby being the only thing running through your mind. the familiar warm feeling blossoming in your tummy as you think about the way her lips felt against yours. that same feeling you’re never quite sure how to handle, but its so much stronger this time and before you know it you succumb to the urges. your hips start grinding against your mattress, giving your clit just the right amount of attention that has you shoving your face into the pillow beneath you to silence your pathetic noises as you whine out abby’s name.

once you finally come down from your high you roll over onto your back, chest falling and rising as you pant, copiously gasping for air. you quietly slide out of bed, slipping off your now soaked panties and tossing them into the laundry basket. the sight of the wet patch on the soft cotton sending your mind spiralling. the same thoughts from earlier returning and undulating through your brain, interrupting your train of thought and causing a paralysing lump to form in your throat. everything about what you're feeling towards her is so wrong and you try your hardest to push your emotions away and repress them into the back of your mind.

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#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️#abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you

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balkanradfem · 3 months ago

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Did anyone watch the horror movie 'The Substance'? I've seen it because someone recommended it to me, and I saw one of the three directors was female, but now I just have few thousands words of criticism and upset about it. Click if you want to read it. Tw for themes of women abused in tv industry and the fear of aging out of their jobs.

So, the substance is about a woman aging out of her role in television where she runs a fitness program, and she is distraught to realize she's going to get replaced. Sadly she blames her own aging process about it! She gets in an accident, and then a male nurse gives her an usb showcasing 'the substance', a serum that makes a younger version of you come out of your body.

She takes it, and her body opens up to let out a younger version, a different acctress, come out and look at herself in the mirror. I was already upset by this point about the depiction of a woman losing her job for aging and hating herself, and not the industry and the males in it, but now I was in disbelief. It was funny that they wanted me to believe another woman exited from her back and didn't break her spine in the process, whatever, but now she was in a new body, and immediately went 'yas slay look how hot I am' Excuse me what?

I thought, at least one part of the horror would be feeling off and alien if forced to switch consciousness to another body, a body that is unfamiliar, that you didn't grow with, it would be traumatizing. No matter how much more 'socially likeable' a new body was, I can't imagine looking at my own hands and legs and having them look completely different, and being okay about it. It would cause a crisis in anyone, your identity would be in shambles. You couldn't get used to it, you'd have trouble looking at the mirror at all, and would forget it and constantly be reminded of it when seeing glimpses of your own hands, and it would shock and disturb you every time. How would you talk to your friends and family now? How would you deal with people you loved who couldn't recognize you? It would be mentally scarring.

If she had one single friend to talk about this, the entire premise would fall apart because it would become obvious that this is stupid and shouldn't be done.

Watching on it turned out they cut this woman out from any social context of her life. She had no friends, no family, not even any acquaintances. The only person who ever talked to her was one(1) single ex classmate, and other than that, she seemed to have zero people in her life who even knew she existed. But there's nobody like that. Yes, you can be socially isolated, but hardly to the point where nobody in the world knows you exist. If you go outside people memorize you. She didn't have anyone who knew her. She was supposed to be a popular figure on tv. But she didn't exist. This woman had no past, no existence in anyone's world, no connections to other people whatsoever. It made her less of a believable character to me. Nobody can exist completely out of social context of their life. We didn't get an explanation of why she has no family, or friends or acquaintances, or past loves, or anything like that. It was almost like she was now so irrelevant due to her age that the world just cut her out, which is scary but also ridiculous, she looked young!!

Another glaring flaw in the movie was that... the older woman in the movie was so clearly more attractive than the younger. They tried to shoot her face in harsh lightning and highlight whatever they thought was wrong with her body, but she just looked excellent under any kind of standards. What do you mean this teenager is 'hotter' than the original protagonist. She looks 17, she looks like she shouldn't be allowed outside after dark. The idea of her being filmed by older males gave me nausea, get that child away from them. I had to skip most of the scenes with her because it looked like child pornography. They had her wearing breast prostetics to make her look adult and put her in clothing no woman alive would find appealing or comfortable to wear, it was painful, uncomfortable and horrifying.

The entire existence of the younger woman was dehumanizing. She didn't eat. She didn't watch tv. She didn't do anything human. She was a male idea of a 'hot young girl', who only existed to look like what males think is appealing, dance on stage, and get male approval. That's it, we never see her exhausted, sad, commiserating how difficult it is to be around males who objectify you all day, we never see her complain about sexualizing and so obviously ignored sexual harassment she was put trough – the movie acted like sexual harassment didn't exist. Males around her appeared to only care about how much money she could make them and even though that was disgusting too, I don't believe for a second that a woman in that scenario doesn't get extensively sexually harassed. But the movie skipped over that. Like it just didn't matter. She doesn't have mental health issues because she's an attractive female child on television. She isn't human to them.

The younger woman had to switch bodies with her original counterpart weekly, and at first I found these little moments soothing, because the older woman was clearly showing signs of pain, hunger, exhaustion, irritation, depression. I thought 'oh, there's the humanity I was missing!' and was just happy to see her eat something. But then, to my horror, these little moments of humanity were ... demonized. The fact that she was eating was a flaw and a failure in the movie. She was depicted as addicted to food, jealous, bitter, angry and like giving in to any human urge for entertainment and rest was her 'wasting her life'. I was chilled by this notion, because I realized that's how males see female needs in real life. A waste.

Another thing I found upsetting was the amount of completely naked scenes the acctresses had to go trough, because I can't imagine anyone feeling okay and comfortable with being filmed like that. It felt invasive and uncomfortable for me to see. I knew it was done like this for male satisfaction, it wasn't catered to me. It disturbs me to think they felt comfortable looking at that. Female discomfort is a source of pleasure to them.

The movie progresses in the protagonist taking more and more time being in the younger body, resulting in the older body deterioration. She ends up feeling like she's two people, which is logical at least; you would feel like you're someone else if you're a different body, it at least displayed that little bit of 'you are your body' consequences. The male nurse who gave her the substance starts stalking her, and talking to her in public, and I found this part interesting. The male tried to get her to relate to him, said things like '7 days is long' and 'has she started eating at you already', and to me it became obvious that the male nurse knew exactly what this was going to do to her, and did it anyway. Because he felt lonely and wanted a female companion who also switches bodies. He picked her out and victimized her because he wanted company who also suffered and struggled with the same problem, he spread the misery for his own benefit. I thought we were going to look at that? I thought we would unpack that for a second? Male selfishness and bringing misery into female's life for their selfish purposes? But movie said no and we never see him again.

The younger version seems to forget she ever had any more age, and recklessly parties and does public events not caring that her counterpart is getting destroyed, until at the end, they both end up in some kind of monstrous shape, which okay, the extra teeth were fun, add extra teeth on women yes. But she is ultimately killed when appearing in on a social event looking like that. The ending just shows her dreaming about being famous and cheered on by the crowd, and it looks almost like the movie thinks her endless greed for glory and fame did this to her. Like this is her own fault, she destroyed the body she had in pursuit of eternal approval and gratification of a cheering crowd. I was looking at this like, who was this made for? Nothing about this clicks, is this for people obsessed with their own fame? Is this just a made up idea of what the world looks like for women who are trying to be famous? Because it wasn't clicking with any reality I was aware of.

We've listened to women going trough fame and popularity, and we know what these stories entail. First half of it is being introduced to it too young, forced into it by their parents or guardians, being overworked, missing on childhoods and schooling and family time, not getting enough sleep or rest, being pushed into substance abuse just to get trough the day. And then, endless sexualizing, endless situations where they're in the presence of predators and unprotected. The industry ruthlessly rejecting their personality and forcing them to mold into whatever the public wants, or the producer wants, having their identity crashing with the public opinion of them. Lack of privacy, lack of safety being outside, getting harassed and crowded on the street, not being allowed to live a normal life. Having body issues due to being forced to focus on how you look, because you're under constant scrutiny and now your job depends on how your body looks like, developing mental disorders due to lack of control over your life, and due to control you have to have over your every action. Having your opinions and wants dismissed because your word doesn't count in the industry when you're a woman, being forced to hide what people have done to you in private, often suffering sexual abuse and being forced to keep quiet if you want to keep your job. Breakdowns, suicidal thoughts, both fearing to lose relevancy and wanting out of the industry for your mental health, but it's all you've known and you don't know how to function otherwise. Getting jaded, realizing your own value drops with age, learning to despise everyone who took advantage of you and dropped you the second you weren't making them enough money. Being sick and tired of males talking down to you and dismissing your humanity. Not knowing where to turn for understanding and safety, because the charade has to keep on going in order for the industry to go on.

This is what I would expect a woman in the industry to have learned after being put trough all that, and instead the main character was so void of any backstory, any real experiences, any thoughts or criticism about it, any anger or bitterness about the abuse she'd have suffered in there, and was sorely upset about her lack of job security and that she was no longer looking like a commercial. She would have learned from this, that this is an inherently insecure job industry, it's not worth being in it, but she doesn't seem to learn this. She isn't even angry they hired someone else without telling her. All of her anger was directed towards herself. And the movie was not challenging it. It was saying 'yes, it is your own fault, both for aging, and for wanting not to age. Look what you did.'

And by the end of the movie, she was just the same as the beginning, still just longing for the fame and cheers. She is a character who is not allowed to learn from her experiences, in fact seems to have no experiences, even of the things that happened to her in the movie. She cared for nothing but male validation. She only seemed to care about the younger body for the sake of this validation. Even at the very end when she was killed by the same males who she gave everything to impress for, she wasn't mad at them. She just wanted more validation from them.

And I'm watching this thinking, this must be whats inside of a male brain. He did that because thats how he would act in this situation. Males are incapable of learning from experience, so they assume women are too. Males think that having a body of a young female in their posession would resolve all of their needs and desires, so they think for a woman that would work too, in fact that she would destroy herself to get there. The creepy male fantasy of what a woman would do. It was done to validate their dumb opinions.

One thing I was surprised with was the road not taken in this movie, because it had a lot of potential symbolism! The younger woman exiting the woman's body, was reminiscent of birth. When I noticed it's a different acctress, I thought maybe we were making a parallel of mothers and daughters. Because it's a thing that happens sometimes; women with daughters will look at the daughter and feel she is a prettier, younger version of themselves. It reminds them of their own potential when they were just children, before their lives got decided by marriage and male ownership. And when daughters start receiving male attention, due to the flock of predators always creeping by, mothers will sometimes forget that this is a child bonded and dependant on them, who is now in danger, and instead get jealous, and want that attention for themselves. They'll try to vicariously live trough their daughters, get themselves into the spotlight, or win attention of the males attracted to the child. It's a horrifying event each time, I was reminded by it while watching the movie, seeing how angry the woman was at the younger counterpart for partying, being on tv, being in the spotlight that was now unreachable for her. But the movie ignored this cruel reality as well.

The movie's conclusion is just 'this is somehow the woman's fault', while trying to be a movie about the pressure of the tv industry on women to not age. The pressure is real and experienced by all women, so the movie could have been about analyzing the source of it, showing us the other side of it, how dehumanizing and cruel the males are benefiting from this, how it makes absolutely no sense to cater to them or to care about what they think of female age and appearance. It could have been about male selfishness, greed, pedophilia and predatory nature, it could have pointed us in the horrifying direction of women sacrificing so much of their health and life only for males to have financial benefit and sexual gratification from it. It could have depicted how hard work of women is unappreciated and only rewarded with further abuse.

Instead it focused on pulling women inside out to make horror of their bodies, and depicted teenagers as the ultimate goals for anyone. I think that's where I experienced the most horror, seeing the younger version being dehumanized and depicted as a sexual dream, her every private action looking like a commercial, making her into a reduced non-human robot that only acts the way males think women should. And the woman who actually looked like an adult, was not allowed to learn, criticize, or long for anything except male validation, another fantasy that is as far removed from reality as possible.

#the substance #feminist analysis #radfem analysis #movies and tv #holywood #failed movie #explored male fantasies instead of female realities #took agency and critical thinking away from women and put it in male hands #gross movie

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emilyprentissluvr · 9 months ago

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Don't Tempt Me (Don't Blame Me, Chapter 2)

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Summary: Emily knew it was wrong. She knew you were the most dangerous woman the BAU had ever seen. Yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from you.

Chapter 1

Warnings: Regular CM stuff

Words: 3.3k

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EMILY STARED at herself in the mirror. Her hair was perfectly curled with bangs sitting just above her eyebrows. The black dress she bought hugged every curve of her body and showed off her toned legs. Emily knew she looked good, but hated the small part of her that wanted to look good.

A knock on the door made Emily tear her gaze away from the mirror. "Come in!" The brunette called and a couple of seconds later Hotch opened the door and walked into the locker room. "You sure you're up to this?" The unit chief asked, a hint of concern laced his signature frown.

"Yes Hotch, I am the one that suggested it," Emily reminded him as she walked to her locker to grab a pair of earrings. "I know, just double checking," Hotch said. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about this plan, if he could even call it that. It had been less than 12 hours since Emily suggested taking Y/n out on a date. How all of this transpired so quickly was still a mystery to Hotch. There was a higher probability of things going wrong than right, but he knew they had to act fast before Y/n left DC.

"Did Garcia find anything else?" Emily asked as she finished putting her small, silver hoops in.

"Well, she's using a burner phone to text you so we can't trace her. And we can't find her in any database with just a first name, plus it could be fake anyway." Hotch said as he leaned against the frame of the door. "So, in short terms, we have absolutely nothing." Emily sighed and Hotch nodded apologetically.

"We do have her profile though. And up to this point, she's only ever killed men." Hotch offered and Emily couldn't help but laugh, "She's still an unpredictable, high-functioning psychopath."

"I know, I just..." Hotch trailed off, knowing that there wasn't anything to say to comfort the agent in front of him. "Don't let your guard down and don't do anything stupid." He added.

"Me? Do something stupid? Never." Emily said as she closed her locker and Hotch scoffed before cracking a rare smile. "The cars ready for you," He said getting back on topic, "Derek's going to be there and I have five other undercover agents scattered throughout the bar."

Emily nodded as she gathered her belongings and followed Hotch out the door. "Do you have a plan for when you get in there?" The unit chief asked as the pair walked into the elevator. "I'll make her wait for a little, maybe have Derek talk to her. Get her warmed up a bit and then take her down when she least expects it." Emily said.

"That's it?" Hotch asked slowly, already hating this plan more and more.

"Well, there's still a chance Y/n knows exactly what she's walking into. And if she does then I'll press the button" Emily said as she held up her wrist. Penelope had given her a bracelet with a small button on it that would alert the team if she pressed it. "I know what I'm doing though, trust me on that."

"Okay, but if at any point I think things are going south I'm sending SWAT in," Hotch said seriously and Emily nodded in agreement.

As they walked out of the elevator and to the car Emily felt her phone buzz. She pulled it out of the bag, already knowing who the message was from.

Y/N (6:03 PM)- I can't wait to see you again, Emily.

Emily let out a shallow breath as she reread the message and then pocketed her phone. As soon as she got into the car she closed her eyes, trying to gather herself. She was no stranger to being undercover. In fact, this wasn't even her first undercover case with a serial killer. But it was the first time she had to go undercover as herself. No fake identities or new personas, just regular, old Emily Prentiss. So this should be easy enough, right? Well, at least Emily hoped to God it would be.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

Y/n sat at the bar counter in the same black pantsuit from this morning as she waited for Emily to show up. The brunette had sent her the address to one of her favorite bars, and so far Y/n had been impressed. Although, it was currently 6:40, which meant that Emily was ten minutes late but Y/n wasn't too upset.

"Now what is a pretty lady like you doing all alone?" A man asked as he slid into the chair next to Y/n. The woman turned her head and was face to face with Derek Morgan. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, and Derek had honestly never felt more scrutinized by someone's gaze until now.

"I'm waiting for someone," Y/n said, her hard look quickly turning into a smile and Derek was surprised by how genuine it looked.

"I wouldn't make you wait," Derek said with a boyish smile as he leaned closer, his knees bumping into Y/n's as he swerved his chair more in her direction. Derek didn't know what he was expecting, be he did not expect Y/n to place a delicate hand on his knee, "I suppose I have time to kill," She said thoughtfully. "I'm Y/n."

"Derek," The agent said as he placed his hand on top of hers.

"Ruler of the people," Y/n murmured as she tilted her head slightly.

"Excuse me?" Derek asked, confused as to what she was saying.

"The name Derek. It means ruler of the people," Y/n said as she removed her hand and placed it in her lap. She once again eyed the man up and down and Derek, who usually loved the attention from women, was starting to feel uneasy.

"The meaning behind a name is just as important as the name, don't you think?" Y/n asked and Derek nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Now, are you going to buy me a drink or are you merely gracing me with your presence?" Y/n asked, her tone sickly sweet even when it was full of sarcasm.

"Oh right," Derek said shaking his head. He couldn't even comprehend how a two-minute conversation was already throwing him off his game, "What do want?"

"Two Old Fashioned's." Y/n smiled and Derek tried not to read into it the fact that that was one of Emily's favorite drinks. Derek waved the bartender down and ordered the drink. When Derek turned back to Y/n he saw that she was surveying the bar, obviously looking for Emily, although the intentions behind her eyes were still unknown to the agent.

"Are you sure you're not getting stood up?" Derek joked and Y/n turned to look at him with a slight eyebrow raise. "I don't get stood up," She said seriously and Derek believed it.

"Two Old Fashioned's!" The bartender said as he placed the drinks on the counter in front of them. From the corner of Derek's eye, he could see Y/n smile as she looked at the door. As soon as he was about to grab the drink, Y/n's hand cut him off and grabbed both of them.

"Sorry to cut this short Derek, but it seems that my date has arrived." She smiled as she stood up.

"Wait that was my drink-" Derek started before he was cut off by Y/n, who was behind his chair, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Not anymore."

Derek hated the way he tensed up but that only made Y/n laugh softly. "We should do this again sometime," Y/n murmured before pulling away and walking to the middle of the bar. Even though he was now nervous for Emily, he couldn't be more relieved to be away from Y/n. There was something about the woman that Derek couldn't shake.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would show up." Y/n smiled as she shamelessly looked Emily up and down. The brunette just shook her head apologetically, "Sorry! I got stuck at work." She said as the two women made their way through the crowd.

"You look gorgeous," Y/n complimented as she fell into step with the brunette. Emily smiled as her hand easily found its way to Y/n's lower back as she guided her to a table in the corner of the room, "So do you," Emily said and she wasn't lying. The black suit fit Y/n perfectly and it was one of the reasons Emily had been so drawn to her this morning.

"I thought it was a slow day," Y/n threw over her shoulder. "I thought so too." Emily chuckled as they found a table, her hand dropping from Y/n's back as she reached for her drink. She briefly took note that it was her favorite drink, but she also knew that they had a similar taste in coffee so she didn't want to read into that much.

"So what is it you do, Emily?" Y/n asked as she took a sip of her drink.

"I'm an accountant with the firm a couple blocks away," Emily lied easily, "And you?"

"I'm a writer." Y/n smiled and Emily tilted her head slightly, "Really?" She asked, not expecting that to have been the younger woman's answer.

"Yes, well, I'm a ghostwriter if you want to get specific," Y/n answered and Emily frowned, "What does that mean?"

"I write stories anonymously and sell them to authors so they can put their names on them," Y/n said.

"So you do all the work but don't get any credit?" Emily asked, extremely intrigued if the woman in front of her was telling the truth. Although it did make sense, Y/n didn't profile as a narcissist.

"I do the work and get a big paycheck, darling. I love to write but I don't want the fame that comes with it." Y/n said and Emily brushed her finger against the younger woman's knuckles, "So I take it you're pretty successful. Who do you write for?" The agent asked, suddenly wondering if she had ever read one of Y/n's books.

"I'm afraid that's classified."

"I'll have you know I am nothing if not persistent," Emily grinned, "You went overseas for your job, right? So it's not an American author." Emily pointed and Y/n shook her head amused, "Alright, enough about me," Y/n said as she grabbed onto the brunette's hand, "Come on. Let's dance," She smiled as she began to drag Emily to the middle of the bar.

"Already?" Emily practically yelled as she followed Y/n. The brunette naively hoped that they would have talked longer. It was kind of part of her plan but it seems like that was out the window now.

"It's never too early to dance," Y/n said as she pulled Emily flush against her in the crowded room. Her hands went to Emily's hips as the brunette threw are arms lazily around Y/n's neck. She couldn't help but stare into Y/n's eyes. Her gaze was soft, eyes reflecting the flashing lights of the bar, and Emily couldn't help but get lost in them. There was something innocent about Y/n's eyes and that was what pulled Emily out of her trance. Because Y/n wasn't innocent, actually she was probably the furthest thing from innocent. Emily took a deep breath and tried to refocus.

"I never got the chance to finish my drink," Emily said as her body swayed to the music and Y/n followed suit.

"I didn't take you for someone who needs a drink to have fun," Y/n said as she pulled Emily impossibly closer, their noses were less than an inch away. "I'm not," The brunette said, tilting her head and she realized she would have the perfect angle to connect her lips to the soft ones in front of her. Not that she was going to, or wanted to,Emily reminded herself.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Y/n smirked as her thumbs brushed against Emily's hipbones. As soon as Y/n did that she felt herself being flipped around so that her back was right up against the brunette's front. Emily snaked her arms around Y/n's waist and hooked her chin on Y/n's shoulder. "Don't tempt me," Emily murmured against the shell of Y/n's ear, and the agent couldn't help but revel in the way Y/n shivered. For the first time tonight, Emily felt like she was the one in control.

"It's fun to rile you up though." Y/n smiled as turned her face towards Emily, her nose brushing against the side of Emily's cheek.

"You couldn't handle me riled up." Emily chuckled, although her eyes betrayed her when her gaze focused back on Y/n's plush lips for a brief second. She had hoped Y/n hadn't seen it but of course, she wasn't so lucky.

"Was that a challenge? Because I'll have you know, I love a challenge." Y/n said as she placed her hands on top of Emily's and leaned further back into her. Emily knew this was her chance, granted it came a lot sooner than she thought. But her trained eye saw the opening so she knew she had to take it, "Let's get out of here," Emily murmured into Y/n's ear, "I'll show you what a real challenge looks like." The brunette continued and Y/n immediately unwrapped herself from Emily's arms and dragged the both of them toward the bathroom.

Emily made brief eye contact with Derek and he raised his eyebrows silently asking if everything was fine. She gave a slight nod, her code to let him know she was fine and to not approach unless she called for backup. The brunette quickly tore her attention away from Derek and to her hand that was interlaced with Y/n's.

Before they could even make it to the bathroom Emily felt herself being pushed against a wall and Y/n's soft lips claimed her own. She was taken back for a second but her hands still instinctively shot to Y/n's hips. It was the way that Y/n's hands made their to Emily's hair and tugged slightly that Emily was brought back to reality.

She immediately kissed Y/n back, loving the way she could taste the slight hint of citrus. Wait, not loving, she was only doing this so she could arrest Y/n. Emily reminded herself, even though it was very hard to think about anything other than the Y/n's lips felt.

Emily pulled Y/n even closer, practically lifting the woman as her tongue trailed along Y/n's bottom lip. "Let's go back to my place," Emily said, pulling her head away for a brief second and trying to ignore the beautifully kiss-swollen lips in front of her.

"I have a better idea," Y/n murmured as she connected their lips once again, her kiss was hungry and passionate but soft at the same time. Emily tried not to enjoy it, she knew shouldn't. Y/n was a serial killer after all, but did she have to be so good at kissing?!

Emily felt herself being pulled away from the wall but her lips never left Y/n's. She didn't even know where they were going until she heard a door slam shut and a lock click. The agent internally cursed herself for not being attentive enough, but she could still fix this.

"I think we can do better than a quickie in the bathroom," Emily said as she easily flipped the two of them around, pinning Y/n to the wall by her hips. The younger woman gasped in surprise before looping her arms around Emily's neck. Y/n smiled as she started placing kisses along the brunette's defined jawline. She nipped at the spot just below Emily's ear and she tried her best to suppress the moan that wanted to leave her lips.

"Not much of an exhibitionist, Agent Prentiss?" Y/n said as she pulled back and gave Emily a sadistic smile.

Emily felt her stomach drop. She should have known this was too easy. Should have known the second laid eyes on Y/n in the bar earlier. But somehow she couldn't think straight whenever she looked at the woman in front of her.

"What? Do you really think I am that stupid?" Y/n said with a pout as she studied the way Emily's face hardened. "That I would unknowingly walk into your so-called trap?" Y/n chuckled as she twirled Emily's curls in her hands. "And then you had Derek come over and flirt with me? It's quite comical how predictable you are."

"Why'd you come then?" Emily asked, trying to figure out the right moment to call for backup.

"Like I said earlier, I love a challenge." Y/n grinned before flipping them so quickly that Emily didn't have time to fight back before her back hit the wall. "But right now, it's proving to be rather easy," Y/n sighed as she traced Emily's bottom lip, "You and your team were supposed the be the best. But I have to say, I am rather unimpressed."

Emily immediately pulled her head away even though she had nowhere to go since she was still pinned to the wall. "So you knew who I was this morning at the coffee shop," Emily stated, not knowing if that was worse or better at this particular moment.

Y/n eyes lit up as she leaned closer, "No, I didn't know who you were. That part just was luck."

"So lucky," Emily muttered under breath.

"As soon as I realized who you were, I cursed myself for being so sloppy," Y/n said, ignoring Emily as trailed her finger across her collarbones, "But then I realized that meeting you was a blessing in disguise. Because now I know what I've been missing for all these years."

"And what's that?" Emily asked as she quickly used all of her momentum and knocked both of them to the floor. Y/n's back collided with the ground and Emily straddled her hips to keep her down. The agent pinned her arms above her head and Y/n barked out a laugh as she stared at the woman on top of her, "Bold. I like it."

"Answer my question" Emily gritted out, as her hands tightened against Y/n's wrist.

"This. I've missed this." Y/n said she leaned her head up, now inches away from Emily's. "The hunt. It's exhilarating. And I am definitely not going to complain about being pinned down by a very beautiful woman." Y/n grinned and Emily just shook her head. "Well, the hunt's over." She said as she leaned closer, their noses almost touching. "We have almost fifty agents waiting out there for you. The only way you're getting out of here is in cuffs." Emily continued and Y/n surged forward so their lips were almost touching, "Don't threaten me with a good time, Agent Prentiss."

Emily stared into Y/n's eyes, not liking the look in them. There wasn't an ounce of fear for someone who had just been caught. The agent racked her brain with the younger woman's profile, she knew she wouldn't go down without a fight. Knew that everything she did was unpredictable but also meticulously planned. There was no way someone of this caliber would walk into a trap and not have a backup plan.

"I can see the cogs in your brain turning, Agent Prentiss." Y/n grinned and Emily shook her head, "What else are you up to?" She asked, her eyes never leaving the woman's under her.

"Reach into my back pocket and find out," Y/n said as she wiggled her hips under Emily's weight. Emily rolled her eyes as she took her weight off the younger woman's torso and immediately hauled them both to a standing position. The agent made quick work of repining Y/n's arms behind her back.

She carefully reached into Y/n's back pocket and pulled out a small device. Emily furrowed her eyebrows as she got a better look at it and realized there was a small timer on the front that appeared to be counting down from 2 minutes.

"What is this?" Emily asked as she lifted the device to the other woman's eyes.

Y/n smiled as her eyes went from the device to Emily. "What? You've never seen a bomb detonator before?"

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #david rossi #criminal minds #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n

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hearts4werka · 7 months ago

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The Devil Herself

Summary: You’re the famous Ghostface killer in the town of Boston while your ex-bodyguard Christopher is also an FBI agent investigating your murders, you overhear his conversation with his mother about a set up date with another woman so you decide to pay the woman a little visit after the date… Genre: Horror, slasher, age gap (it’s not a big one), female killer, obsessive stalker, crime investigation, The FBI, arranged date Warnings: This fic contains darker themes that may trigger some readers like gore, kidnapping, acts of torture, illegal possession of various of dangerous weapons ( don’t do this irl ) obsessive female!character, cursing, murder, detaching-limbs. Read At Your Own Risk! authors note: this turned out wayyy longer than I expected it to. I started to write this last night still kinda shocked how I finished it in one day. I’m already writing pt.2 to Missing and need to finish that but here’s a long Chris fic for while you guys wait for it. There might be a pt.2 to this too but I have to see if y’all will want one. Hope you enjoy!

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

The Halloween season is right around the corner and I’ll have to do some work to set the atmosphere for the lovely town I’ve been slashing for couple of good years.

I am called ‘The Ghostface killer’ around this town, known mostly for the gruesome crime scenes I create which I’m proud to said in know for that, how I always manage to cover up any evidence that could lead to discovering my identity.

There’s been many before me, some were better some worse. Dating back almost centuries, I can say I’ve been through some stuff in the past. I don’t want to get into detail with it but let’s just say I’m on a revenge mission, murdering and torturing the people who’ve hurt me in the past.

But there’s a little problem flowing in my mind… my ex-bodyguard, Christopher.

He’s an FBI Agent, often a bodyguard or guarding something. The FBI are currently investigating ‘The Ghostface Killer Crimes’ how do I know? Oh it’s obviously because I stalked him, unfortunately I also found out some unpleasant things too.

His mother has set up him with another women for a date. And it’s fucking tonight.

I may have hacked into his chat logs as well and overheard him and his mother talking over the phone when I was just watching him on the cameras with sound recorders I’ve installed along with the cameras.

As much as I try to let go of him, when I manage get him out of my mind and focus on other things at hand he just latched onto my brain and messes with it, just coming back each time like a boomerang.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

I’m getting ready to discretely stalk Christopher’s date, dressing up normally but keeping my mask on me since I’ll be doing some dirty work today and I can’t get blood on my beautiful face, can I? But mostly to hide my real identity from her.

I walk into my closet, picking out a black corset along with some matching black jeans that make my body look amazing together with the corset, I want her to see something pleasant to look at before she will go out.

Adding the finishing touches such as jewelry, a black leather jacket draping it over my shoulders and black boots I glance over at the mirror of my bathroom and fix my hair. I almost feel like I’m getting ready for a date to which I chuckle internally at the fact I’m going out for a completely different reason. ( outfit here )

I grab my bag off the bathroom counter it was sitting on, walking over to a big black duffel bag dropped on my bed I pick out what weapons I would like to use today.

Picking the classic and iconic knife along with a small electric saw but also a gun for extra fun, I shove the gun into a hidden pocket in the leather jacket and drop the knife and saw in the bag of today’s choice.

Inside of the bag already resides my phone, a digital camera I take pictures of my beautifully gruesome crime scenes and of my victims for little pieces of memories.

After I’m done preparing, I make sure everything is in place and locked as I finally walk out of the house.

Time to start this little shitshow

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Im in my car, sitting in front of a fancy restaurant the date was planned at with my laptop sitting my lap, watching them through the restaurants cameras I’ve managed to hack into. People really need to make their security devises have a stronger protection because this was easier than I thought it would be.

My blood boils with jealousy as she reaches out with a napkin in her hand to wipe off a piece of the food they’re eating that got left on his upper lip. If she puts her hands on him again, I’ll cut the motherfuckers off and give them to him if he continues to allow it.

He’s very aware of having a person stalking him but he doesn’t know who it is even being an FBI agent he couldn’t simply figure out who it is, I grab my phone out of my bag and open the messages app. Typing out a simple text I send it over to him and watch him on the cameras for his reaction.

Me : Is someone running off with other women? Keep having her hands all over you and you’ll see what happens next.

Seeing him excuse himself to check the message on his phone I’ve sent, a look of horror and caution creeps into his features as he looks around nervously but he hides them with a tight smile from the woman that’s completely oblivious of what the message contained nor why he suddenly changed in demeanor.

For the rest of the night, he avoided her touch as much as he could but slip ups did occur. At the end of the date he cautiously walked her back to her car, I was parked not far away from her so I saw everything with my eyes. When they say their goodbyes she leans in and places a gentle kiss on his cheek before getting into her car and proceed to drive away.

He returns to his own car and just sits there lost in thought, the look on his face etched into his features, more evident now that he’s alone. After a few minutes he starts the car and drives away.

Now it’s time for the fun part to start.

I tracked the woman’s home address before they went on the date and found out all of the basic knowledge about her without unnecessarily digging too deep, putting her home address into the gps now it’s finally my time to drive off.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

After a while of driving I finally reach my destination and park in front of an old-money house thats a pretty good size for someone who lives alone. Looks like mommy and daddy’s wealth payed off for her.

I have a feeling she’ll be fun to torture.

I grab my bag with all of the supplies I need and get out of the car in one swift open of a door, walking around the car I face the trunk. Opening it I take out a cloth along with a small bottle of sedative.

Popping the cap off the bottle I pour some of it onto the cloth, glancing around the containments of my trunk if I won’t need anything else, grabbing my signature mask as the last item I need and slide it over my head now concealing my face.

With one efficient and swift move I close the trunk and finally head towards her house, time to do some breaking in now, put the bitch to sleep and drive her to my house. After I’m done with that I’ll have some good old fun with her.

Going through the back door that thankfully was left open behind I quietly enter the building, checking if anything besides me is lurking in the dark shadows covering her house and find nothing, no sign of any animals too to which I sigh in relief. I really hate killing peoples animals. ( don’t actually kill animals irl )

I slyly maneuver my way through the darkness and up the stairs, them creaking as if I’m in a horror movie. Getting up the creaky ass stairs I see light coming out of one of the rooms, assuming that’s where she’s currently located I decide to put more of the sedative on the cloth in my hand to make sure she doesn’t wake up during the ride back to my house.

Scanning the surrounding area I can’t help but wonder if she left the door unlocked, she does live alone so no one could technically get into her house and into the bathroom while she’s in there, right?

As I come closer to the bathroom my ears suddenly get assaulted by music coming out from the slightly opened bathroom door, she has shit taste in music.

Creeping up to the bathroom door I widen the open hole with my hand as quietly as possible to not draw any sudden unwanted attention to it.

I take a small peak inside and see the shadow of her figure through the shower curtains she’s concealed behind, thinking this is gonna be easier than I thought I slowly enter the room and make my way towards the shower.

Pulling open the curtain my eyes are met with my target being completely nude while water rains onto her naked body from the shower head secured to the wall in front of her.

Without giving her anytime for further reaction than the horror slowly spreading across her features I slap the cloth over her mouth to muffle her screams pouring out of her mouth.

When she falls asleep I get her out of the shower and put the clothes she left in the bathroom onto her body, tossing her over my shoulder again I carry her back to my car and drop her into the backseat.

I drive off from under her house and on the path back to my house.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

We arrive at my house and I check into the backseat to see if she’s woken up.

“Still knocked out.”

I exit the car and take her out of the backseat, tossing her over my shoulder again and carry her into my basement or how I like to call it ‘The secret layer of crime’

Walking down the stairs and underground I drop her from my shoulder and into a bloody wooden chair in the middle of my basement or torture chamber, tying her down to it with a thick rope that was sitting next to it on a small wooden stool so she doesn’t get away when she finally wakes up.

Next to the chair is a white plastic table with various torture weapons I usually can’t carry around with me, opening my bag I dump out the weapons I took with me earlier.

I wait for her to wake up because I need her to be fully conscious during the whole process, I’m gonna make this painful for her. Mentally and physically.

After a few minutes of waiting she finally regains her consciousness and looks at me with the same horror on her face as when I took her, she tried to scream but realizes her mouth is ceiled shut with a cloth taped to her mouth.

A sinister laugh rumbles in my throat at her desperate tries to pry her way free or scream for help, this basement is sound proof so no one will hear her even in the slightest mumble.

“Oh are you trying to escape? You poor little thing, how sad.” I say with mockery lacing my tone, my eyes settle down on the table full of weapons and her eyes follow right behind, her horror spreading further and becoming more evident.

She violently shakes to try and loosen the thick rope she’s secured with tightly to the chair, grabbing a knife off the table I walk over to her. My shoes creating echoing foot step sounds that bounce around the walls of the basement.

Leaning down and getting up close to her face I raise the knife to her jawline and slowly trace it, the cold blade leaving goosebumps behind its path.

Her eyes become glassy and tears roll down her cheeks, a smirk spreads across my face at the beautiful sight of her being scared.

“You know why you’re here?” I ask, knowing I won’t get a clear answer out of her, the cause of it being the cloth taped to her mouth.

Shaking her head negatively, meaning she’s saying no and I become amused by not having a lack of an answer from her as I expected. She’s really desperate to stay alive, how pathetic.

“Well you don’t have to know but let’s just say you might be loosing some limbs today, hm?”

Her eyes widen at my sudden statement as her horrified state intensifies along with her desperate tries to escape, the sight is complete gold or a rare find that can only be dug up deep in the cold mines.

I slide a small stool with some blood covering the surface of it and place it under one of her hands, extending my hand behind me onto the weapon table I grab the mini electric saw.

Without hesitation I flip it on and it starts up with a roar, bringing the circling saw blade to her wrist and saw right down which detaches her hand from her arm. Blood sprays out from her arm and onto my clothes and everything around it as I take the severed hand and place it onto the weapon table.

Grabbing the stool and putting it where her other hand is and copy the same procedure of detaching the hand as on the other.

When that’s done I put the new severed hand next to its sister on the weapon table along with the now blood-covered saw. She’ll die a slow, painful and torturous death after I’m done with her.

I hover my hand over the weapon table and select a weapon at random, I grab onto something long and sharp, knowing what it is already I grasp the leather handle of it and bring the blade to her neck, slicing it open but not enough to kill her yet.

Putting the weapon down back onto the weapon table I walk over to a chest and open it, taking out a small carboard box among different body bags, trash bags and gloves I’ve left in here because I was too lazy to throw it out.

I close the chest and place the box on top of it, walking back to the weapon table I grab the severed hands and then go back to the box and neatly place them inside.

Thinking of what to add to it I decide or grab my camera from my bag I dropped onto the ground after taking out the weapons I took with me earlier I take a picture of the tortured and slowly dying woman on the chair. Just a little memory for him to remember.

I take the Polaroid out of the camera and grab the knife off the table, stabbing into what’s left of her hand to draw some blood onto the blade of it and I write a small letter with it on the back of the Polaroid.

After I’m done with my little letter I return back to the box, closing it and ceiling it shut with some tape I had in my grasp.

Grabbing the box and the Polaroid I exit the basement and go into my car to give Chris a little surprise. By the time I exit the basement the sun is already coming up and starting to illuminate the world.

I drop the box next to me in the passenger seat along with the polaroid and drive off to his house. He should be awake by now since he usually wakes up when the sun comes up.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Arriving at my destiny under his house I take the box with the Polaroid and get out of my car, walking over to the front door of his house I place the box down onto the doormat that has ‘Welcome!’ written across it in black bold letters on a white background.

I neatly place the Polaroid on top of the the box that’s slowly leaking blood from one of the bottom corners and onto the white and black doormat, I ring his doorbell and walk back to my car to drive off from under his house before he saw me.

The note on the back of the Polaroid says is bloody letters.

‘Like running off with other women so much? Here’s a little surprise for you but I’ll say one thing. You are mine and no other woman is allowed to lay your hands on you. Ever again.’

- Your lovely Stalker

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221beloved · 4 months ago

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Mistaken Identity

(Link to ao3)

John was standing on the curb in front of a pharmacy, waiting for Sherlock who was hunting some special ingredient for an experiment John was sure he didn’t want to know about. Hence he’d already forgotten what exactly Sherlock was looking for in that pharmacy.

Considering the time John was standing here already, it must be something they didn’t want to sell him.

John sighed and shifted his weight.

His gaze fell on a woman who was crossing the street, smiling broadly. It looked almost as if she was coming towards him. John smiled back, just in case, and the smile on the woman’s face widened impossibly. Oh, she was coming towards him then. John straightened his posture a little, then the woman was already standing in front of him.

“Hi,” she beamed at him, stretching the word almost comically.

“Hello,” John greeted back, a little warily.

“Hi, I just saw you standing here, and I must tell you, you look like this detective bloke!”

“Err…” John frowned. “You mean Bond? Daniel Craig?”

Some of his former girlfriends had told him that he had a faint resemblance to the famous actor, although he'd never been able to see it in the mirror.

“No no, not from a movie. The detective bloke! You know, from the papers.” She paused, tilted her had, then seemed to have some kind of enlightenment.

“No! Oh I’m so sorry dear, the blogger. Not the detective, his blogger. What was his name, he’s a doctor, I think. Watson! Right. You look just like that famous Dr. Watson.”

She beamed at him happily.

“Um, maybe that’s because I am Dr. Watson��?” It sounded more like a question than John would have liked, but the woman was quite confusing.

“Ah no no,” the woman laughed, waving a hand. “Good one! But you do look exactly like him. You could be his secret brother or something.”

John looked at her, slowly growing irritated. “I’m not a secret brother or something, I’m Dr. John Watson. The one who writes the blog.”

“No you’re not,” the woman retorts, grinning widely. “You won’t fool me.” She looked almost proud.

John barely suppressed a sigh and was considering just wishing her a nice day and wait somewhere else for Sherlock, when he heard a deep voice behind him.

“And I look just like that detective Sherlock Holmes then, right?”

Now John did sigh, but in relief.

“Well, err…” The woman was looking at Sherlock. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Sherlock spat, “Oh. So if you would accept now that you are indeed standing in front of the real Dr. Watson, and are insulting him rather expertly? And before you say you don’t believe me either, I would suggest you hurry to get to your job at that cafe before you’re late. Wouldn’t want to be fired, would you? Since you’re dressing up so nicely to attract customers, after your husband just left you. Rather desperate I’d say, but if you can’t recognise people even if they’re telling you their name, I would agree to take every opportunity you get.”

“Sherlock,” John hissed. The woman was now looking rather hurt, close to tears even. Even though she’d been a bit annoying, she didn’t deserve that tirade.

“Well,” she sniffed and straightened her posture. “Would’ve been better if it hadn’t been you then.”

With that she turned on her heels and stalked away.

John turned to Sherlock, who was staring after her with narrowed eyes.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he scolded.

“Yes it was,” Sherlock huffed. “She was annoying and stupid. And she didn’t believe you.”

John sighed. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Sherlock held up a small bag. “Eventually.”

“Do I want to know about it…?”

“Probably not. Now, let’s go home. Enough stupidity for one day, don’t you think?”

John huffed and took the offered hand, intertwining their fingers.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Sherlock smirked. “I’d hope so.”

I've rudely stolen this from an interwiev with Rowan Atkinson.

In case you don't know it, here the original

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list

@flufftober @meetinginsamarra @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @topsyturvy-turtely

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@quiscustodiet @willamholmeswatson

#flufftober2024 #day 06 #bbc sherlock #johnlock

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year ago

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GoGo Dancer

Pairing- OPLA!Sanji x reader

Summary- After a hard day Sanji goes to see his favorite dancer.

Warnings- afab reader, oral (fem receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, orgasm denial (once), hints that this has happened before, hints that Sanji ignores reader 🙄 that should be it

a/n- if you hate it move on peace and love 🫰🏼

Sanji just couldn’t help himself, relishing in your beauty knowing the only reason you use it is to get money. Your hips moved along with the beat song as your body shined on stage demanding all eyes in you, no less.

Zeff had thrown him from the line for making an absolutely delectable dish that, in Zeefs own words; “A waste of good quality.” So after he was done bussing tables he came to his favorite bar to relieve some stress, to his favorite gogo dancer.

Your eyes scan the room, unable to miss Sanji’s predatory orbs starting you down as your threw your ass around hounds of men whistling up at you. After the song was over, and a minute past closing you left the stage. The men in the audience yell profanity after profanity and other drunken nonsense as you walk off stage. Once you were out of sight Sanji stood from his table quickly taking quick almost robotic steps to your dressing room.

He tightens his tie gripping the door knob and opens the door to find you waiting in front of the makeup vanity that illuminates your features. The ruby red lipstick enunciates your plum lips, mascara and eyeliner drawing attention to your gorgeous eyes, and a blush that adores your skin tone. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to ruin it.

He steps in completely, closing the door behind him. You stare at each other through the mirror. “So,” you begin. “What’d Zeff say this time?” You ask him, taking your styled hair down in the process. He ignores your passive aggression, “Same as always.” He replies toying with one of your golden nicknack probably gifted by a pirate or some such trying to seduce you with the promise of gold, love, pleasure. But Sanji knows the only thing you need for pleasure is right in the kitchen at Baratie.

He puts it down, sauntering over to you, grabbing hold to your neck, he makes you look up at him. You keep your face motionless. “Missed you.” He tipped his head to the side, blonde hair moving along with it. He pulled you a little by the throat, slouching a little as well. Your fingers lay nimbly on his hand making no attempt to move him though. Connecting your lips he kissed you passionately, lips dancing in wild motion, lipstick smearing on his and your mouth. He pulled away leaving you breathless.

The sides of your mouth tip up into a sly smile, “Sure ya’ did.” You reply, tapping your polished nails against his hand. “Want me to prove it to you?” His smirk is almost identical to yours, turning you around in your chair. He strokes your cheek moving a fly away from your face, he gets down on his knees, now at your level. He moves his finger down your skin, over the revealing outfit, across your hip and lap, hand massaging your inner thigh.

Subconsciously, you want to peel your thighs for him letting him do his magic. But, nonetheless he has to pay retribution. Being denied attention when he thinks he deserves it, a taste of his own medicine. “I know, I know.” He rubs your thigh, “I’ve been neglectful, I know it hurts your feelings, but let me prove it to you.” He repeats his earlier statement, truth be told Sanji did hold feelings for you, very strong feelings in fact.

You contemplate for a minute but it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had a really good orgasm, and Sanji makes you a weak woman with his looks and words of persuasion. Your legs spread for him, his smirk spreads into an appease smile. He grips one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder he pulls you by the hips closer to the edge of the chair.

You only had the small pearl white slacks that barely covered your bottom and panties to hide you from him. He slowly, excruciatingly slow that you could feel you arousal drip. He hooks two fingers between your underwear and leotard pulling them out of the way together. Once moved he stops eyeing your pretty pussy.

Your wetness glistened in the light, his mouth watered needing to taste you. Yanking you closer he looks you directly into the eyes as he suckles against your clit. Every never ending feeling electrical, licking strips up and down your aching cunt he could feel you mostien against his tongue.

Out of all the things Sanji has made or tried in his entire life he believes you are the most desirable, delicious, most succulent thing that this world has to offer.

He let go of one of the thighs he held down and he moved back to your clit mouth wrapping back around it. He brought two fingers to your awaiting hole, slipping both in and you suck him in greedily. He thrusted them in quickly and gently, his long fingers hitting every single sweet spot. The noises coming from you were unspeakable as his tongue moved gracefully against your flesh, your body felt like it could explode, your eyes scrunch closed, jaw tightening as you felt the coils of pleasure build, and build, and build. He knew you were close, so fucking close.

But, then he stopped.

Why’d he stop?

You open your eyes, frustration and annoyance painted all over it. Before you could say or complain he moves you from the chair, standing up straight kicking the chair out of the way. “What are you doin—“ you can’t even finish your sentence before he has pushed you harshly on the vanity, the few things decorating it falling to the floor. He held the side of your neck shutting you up with a rough kiss, he unbuttoned his slacks pushing them down along with his boxers.

Pushing you head against the mirror elongating the kiss, straining your lungs, he guides his cock to your begging cunt, sliding the tip over your pussy up and down, over and over again. Crying out for him to fuck you he finally slips his tip in. Teasingly he slides in at an antagonizing pace when you try to squirm or wiggle your hips he slams a strong hand down keeping you in place. Once he’s settled all the way in, tip kissing your cervix.

He pulls out almost all the way, his entire cock shining with your wet.

Thrusting back in swiftly he brings your hips down to meet him. A shocked but approving gasp comes from you as he continues to drill into you. Fucking up into you all while he makes your hips fuck him. Pleasure takes you in again, like overcoming waves in a black ocean. Pulling the thin fabric of the tight, white bra-like shirt from over your tits exposing your hardened nipples. Sanji grunts, cock twitching inside your pulsating walls that suck him in with every pull.

Pushing your legs apart farther his duck pushes deeper pulling a whole new sensation out of you. Legs wrapping around his waist bringing him closer, needing to feel his hot body in you. It felt as if you and Sanji held the same breath, the same heartbeat and you couldn't help but relish in it head tipping back as you tried to move your hips along with his merciless thrusts.

Your clit moved along his pelvis friction burning through you. He lets go of your lower body, cradling your face he pulls you into a passion filled kiss, thrust moving quicker, faster, tongues flicking togetherjn a ecstacy induced haze.

And just like that you explode.

Back arching into his chest. Gasping against his lips, thighs trying their best to stay open. Your lungs constrict, walls clamping down, it was nearly impossible for Sanji not to cum right then and there. Your nerves shake in pure, raw pleasure.

A few more sloppy thrust and Sanji couldn’t hold any longer letting go of his heavy load. His vision burned bright and his hold was surely bruising. He rode his climax down, he held you still for a moment, both of you catching your breath.

After you both had your clothes back on you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he headed out. It’s a repeat of both of you scared of rejection but too addicted to leave.

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lz-didyounotice · 1 year ago

Text

“ It was quite a sunny day today”

This gif doesn't belong to me.

Heyyyy! 'sup, let me give you a small temporal paradox with a reader meeting 9th while traveling with Bow tie man. Hope you enjoy it.

Plot hevealy inspired by this work by : @am-i-obsessed---maybe : "Wrong Tardis".

Warning : english is not my first language, so please be indulgent. Might contain a little bit of ansgt, but a lot of comfort for our doctor.

Froggit-

------------------------

The TARDIS had made a strange calculation once again. The Doctor found himself on Earth, in London, yet unsure of the reason behind his visit, still attempting to pick up the signal.

While examining the screens and discussing the matter with his temporary companion, Jack, the doors unexpectedly opened on their own, despite being locked. A female voice called out, leaving him uncertain how to react. The man beside him mirrored his expression before attempting to prevent the stranger from entering.

"Doctor! I thought you were only picking me up at seven; you’re early."

Turning toward the door, the Doctor watched warily as a woman with (h/c) hair approached the console, attempting to send a message to what seemed to be a friend.

"You're awfully quiet, are you okay, darling?" Finally looking up from her phone, the girl realized the situation she had stumbled into. Lifting her chin, she found Jack’s chest mere centimeters from her nose. "Jack? How are you here?" It had been a while since she had seen Jack. His appearances had dwindled after the Ponds began traveling with the Doctor.

“And who might you be, beautiful lady?”

At that moment, she realized her mistake. Looking past the captain, she saw someone she didn’t recognize at first. His hair was too short, his ears larger, and his style vastly different. This wasn’t her Doctor and his gaze indicated that he had never met her before. She had entered the wrong TARDIS. At least with Jack's presence, she assumed he was still with Rose, but she didn’t seem to be with them.

Deciding to take responsibility, she assumed a different identity, at least temporarily. Using a past name seemed the safest option. Neither of them would recognize her if something went wrong.

“Sorry for the intrusion. Name's Sunny. I’m a 'future' friend.”

“Sunny? What a wonderful name. Well, I suppose you already know who I am, but I'll introduce myself anyway. Jack Harkness. Pleasure to meet you.”

Extending his hand, she accepted it with a slight smile. She had forgotten how charming his younger self could be.

“Pleasure to meet you too. So, tell me, what brought you both here? I can only imagine some kind of Sontaran planting a bomb again.”

“Again?” asked the Doctor, now fully turned toward her.

“Spoilers,” she said with a small smile as she examined the younger Doctor. Even with a different face, he was still mesmerizing. She wondered what his smile would look like if he wasn’t frowning so much. She wanted to kiss his forehead, smooth it from any wrinkles.

“We have picked up a strange signal in the middle of London.”

“Never would have thought to be called a strange signal.”

“How could you be the signal?” Asked Jack, now leaning against the rail.

“Your little emitter is dying in my pocket. Distress signal, I guess. When you left me, you were going to look for a new one.” As she put her hands in her pockets, she pulled out a small phone wired with other components.

Approaching the console, she gently brushed it, lingering with a small smile at the old console. “Hello, old girl,” she thought, before handing the device over to the Doctor for analysis.

“How come you have this? I haven't finished this prototype yet.”

“Told you, future friend.”

And there it was, the smile she had been looking for. She almost wished she had met the Doctor sooner to see more of it. Sensing the tension, Jack excused himself, wanting to “explore” for a bit before returning to his time.

-------------

The sound of the sonic made her feel dizzy. The silence felt weird, at least to her. The Doctor hadn’t met her yet, after all, but here she was with a younger version of himself, filling her chest with butterflies .

“So, tell me, why would I give you this sort of device? Do you get lost so often that I need to provide it?”

“Kinda…”

“When are we meant to meet?”

“Hey… Spoilers, darling.”

“And why do you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“What are we? Obviously, we are not just friends with those eyes.”

If only he knew. Fiddling with the three rings on her hand, she smiled, thinking back to her “wedding.” It was under weird circumstances, yes, but she couldn’t have wished for a better way. The Doctor, River, and her, before the universe.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out...” Fully turning to face him, she took his hand, their ringed fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to be. “You know what? I suppose I could give you a small glimpse into the future. I’ll give you three questions. Of course, I won't provide anything that could disrupt your timeline. I'd be an awful partner if I did.”

“Partner?”

Looking at his hand in hers, he wanted to ask about the rings. Why were there three, and not one? Was she married to multiple people?

”Why three rings?”

“A promise for each heart. Two were given to me by the man I love, and the last one by a particularly dashing anthropologist.”

“What promise did you make?”

“I promised to always come back to them, no matter what life brings. To love them until the end of the universe without doubt. To love them until I truly die.” As she spoke, he could see the affection she held for those individuals. It wasn’t just promises; she had already fulfilled them before and would do so again if needed.

Thinking back to what was just revealed, he felt his ears burn. Two rings for two hearts . That man was him, at least his future self! Looking at her with wide eyes, he slowly pointed at her and then himself, still unsure of the implications. Her smile melted his hearts as he realized he had guessed correctly. He couldn’t wait to meet her again, but the fact that she had made such a promise meant something significant had happened.

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

“Not in the way you might think.” Lifting her free hand, she cradled his face, brushing his cheek affectionately. “I made this promise on the day of our first encounter. It wasn’t easy for either of us, but there was only one way out of that situation. And I'll have you know it wasn’t your fault. Years from now, you still think of that day as a dark one, where you lost someone once more. To me, it was one of the brightest days in the universe. That day, I finally had a purpose, something to keep going. And I think you tend to forget how powerful your name can be, how much hope you give by simply giving others a way to shine.”

---------------

She went to release his hand, but he held onto it, wanting to savor the moment a few seconds longer. It felt weird, he never had met her before, but here he was trying to make her stay.

“How long until I meet you?”

“I thought I only gave you three questions.”

And there it was, that pleading look he gave her when he wanted something. Those two blue eyes piercing her heart with curiosity, wanting to know more about their first encounter.

“It's going to be a while before you find me, and a brief trip to France to meet me for the first time. And when I say we’re going to meet again, I might have to relearn how to be myself before catching up with you.”

As she finished her explanation, she heard a faint and familiar whirring noise from the other side of the TARDIS doors. Giving a final smile to the Doctor, she kissed his forehead before finally letting go of his hand.

“Well, this is my leave. See you soon, Doctor…”

And as the TARDIS doors closed, the man beside the console was left in daze. Confused yet excited by this new encounter. This woman was someone he would travel with, fall for, and marry. But what struck him the most was what she had implied: they would meet again and again, yet she would forget it at some point. It pained him a bit to know, but he couldn’t wait to meet her again.

As Jack made his way back, “Sunny” was nowhere to be seen. In her place, a grinning doctor, holding the now repaired device in his hand. Thoughts of a brighter future flooding his mind.

—---------------

Bonus :

“(Y/N) I found what we were searching for !” Did Your doctor exclaim, meeting your gaze with a bright and excited smile. The one you always loved to see. “Also found a yellow note with a sun on it, not sure why, don’t remember putting it here.”

Giving you both, you smiled at the small note. A sun circling a small sentence. “ It was quite a sunny day today”. Smirking silently, you finally brought the device to your now empty pockets, and folded the small note to put in your phone case.

“Come here bow tie maniac” Reaching for his bow tie, you planted your lips on his forehead before kissing him on the lips.

“How come I didn't know you had worn leather jackets before ?” Did you ask him with a teasing tone.

#9th doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who x imortal reader #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #ninth doctor x reader #doctor who #reader

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