#he made his choices and he chose violence!
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: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader
it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.
( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words
"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"
He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.
"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."
Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."
"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"
"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."
"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"
You are lost.
The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.
You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.
You think Aventurine is lost too.
He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.
He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.
But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.
"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"
Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"
The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."
A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."
As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.
"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"
"... Kafka?"
"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"
You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."
"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."
"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."
"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"
You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."
The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.
Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."
"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.
It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.
Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.
"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"
"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."
"And who is that someone?"
Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."
"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."
"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."
"Then what is it?"
The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.
"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."
That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.
He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.
This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.
He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.
"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.
"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"
Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.
"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."
Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.
"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.
"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."
You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.
This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.
Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.
For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'
You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.
"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."
Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.
"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"
"Fuck off."
"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."
You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."
Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"
Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.
You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"
"Hey, you: S—"
You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.
'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'
Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.
Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!
He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.
The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.
Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.
"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"
You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.
When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.
But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.
Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.
You couldn't feel comforted at all.
"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"
"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."
Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.
The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.
You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.
"Fold."
"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."
"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.
"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.
"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.
"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.
"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.
Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?
"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.
He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.
'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.
"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.
He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."
"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.
"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"
'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'
You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."
You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.
Jack of Clubs.
Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.
"Congratulations, pet."
One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.
Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.
The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.
Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.
"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."
You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.
He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"
Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."
He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."
The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.
It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.
It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.
"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."
The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.
"So—"
"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"
The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.
Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.
Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.
No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.
"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."
"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.
"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.
You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.
"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"
"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"
"Like I have a fuckin' choice."
He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."
You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.
"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."
Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.
You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.
The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.
"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.
While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."
"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."
"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"
You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.
"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."
You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...
If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?
...
... Are you destined to die, just like it?
... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?
... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?
This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.
The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.
Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.
Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—
Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.
With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.
"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.
"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."
"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"
"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"
"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."
"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"
"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"
It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.
"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."
"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."
"We'll just have to kill you."
Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.
"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."
"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.
"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.
"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"
"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."
"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"
Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.
... Why even bother indeed?
"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"
Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.
"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.
Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—
A shiny revolver lies on the table.
A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.
"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"
"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"
—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.
It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.
You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.
He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"
He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.
"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"
"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.
"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"
'Why... Why of all people is he...'
"Do you really hate being owned by me?"
"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"
Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...
He raises a hand to cover his smile.
"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"
Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.
He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"
You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."
The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.
Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.
"[Y. Name]..."
"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."
You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...
Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."
"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."
Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.
"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.
"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."
#yandere honkai star rail#yandere aventurine#yandere hsr#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr aventurine#yandere x reader#yester.writes
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The "Robin would never date Steve's ex who broke his heart" take is FUCKING stupid for a lot of reasons.
First of off, the autonomy you're taking out of Robin with this.
Like she's not Steve's sidekick, she's not his yes man, she's an indepent girl who should be free to date any girl she wants.
She would never let her friendship with him ostacolate her love life.
Why the fuck she should do that?!
No one would.
And also, Steve is actually the one who hurt Nancy the most (slut Nancy Wheeler).
And if you think for a second that Robin would ever take Steve's side, then you're wrong.
Just stop centering everything around Steve, and stop reducing Robin to be just his sidekick, 'cause she's FUCKING not.
Hi! So. Pretty sure you found the most recent post I made (on April 6th) tagged anti rnce (and ONLY anti rnce. Not even stranger things. Just anti rnce and my personal original text post tag and a quip about choosing violence. So clearly if that’s how you got here you chose to not just send a post you disagreed with to your friends to rant about but came into my inbox and tried to start shit)And if you didn’t I truly don’t get how you, clearly a rnce fan, found me.
I’m going to be honest. Neither of us are going to change each other’s minds. I don’t like rnce for a lot of reasons, from i just don’t see a romantic spark there to a lot of the shippers being kinda shitty. I don’t care what you ship, really, just that. Claiming it’s canon or should be canon endgame etc gets annoying. And that a lot of the times the way I’ve seen the relationship portrayed (because, contrary to possibly popular belief, I have actually tried to read some fics for them. It’s also such a commonly untagged side or background pairing that I am subjected to it like that often as well) there’s so often weird terf or radfem red flags and alarm bells going off. I’ve seen someone harassed by rnce shippers for calling them out and then those shippers loudly regurgitating terf talking points like it’s fucking funny. I know all fandoms and ships have bad eggs but holy shit.
There’s been a few posts about how for some reason rnce fans try to portray people who don’t like it as making Robin Steve’s sidekick, when really we are acknowledging the facets of her characterization other than her lesbianism. Just because she likes girls doesn’t mean that’s the only thing that matters to her!
Yes, Robin liking girls is part of who she is, it influences how she acts and what she talks about, but it’s not the ONLY thing about her. She likes old movies, she enjoys pop and new wave music, she does her make up in her best friend’s car, she forgot to mention she never learned to drive because he forgot to ask if she could, she thinks combining into a super being with said best friend would possibly solve most of their problems.
Robin is a character who makes her own choices! She chooses to butt in at scoops, chooses to stay with Steve in the bunker to hold off the Russians, chooses to tell him her deepest secret, chooses to apply for jobs with Steve once they heal from the mall, chooses to spend a lot of time with him! And that’s rad. It gives us insight on who she is!
Whenever I’ve written or talked about Robin choosing not to date Nancy, I’ve always made it perfectly clear that it is Robin’s choice. Because given what we see of her in two seasons, Robin is loyal, and greatly values her friendship with Steve. Like. Regardless of how Steve feels about it, and I do think of Robin was legitimately interested in Nancy and Steve thought she had a chance, he’d encourage her to go for it. (Steve isn’t blindly encouraging Robin to hit on Vickie. He has high suspicions that Vickie is queer in some way too! She likes boobies!) I think Robin would think twice about it just because how much she encouraged stancy to get back together in s4.
Honestly, it makes me sad seeing how many times “why would robin choose her best friend’s feelings over getting a gf” is said because like. I value my friends’ feelings all the time. If I thought something I was doing was or would hurt them, I would reevaluate. Why WOULDNT Robin consider her best friend’s feelings? The first person she ever came out to? Who made her feel safe and accepted? Who made her laugh when she felt most vulnerable? Who she encouraged to get back with his ex? Romance is not a level up from friendship, it is not the endgame of life, it is not superior to any other relationship type. Treating friendships as less important to romance is something to reconsider and reevaluate.
Your last point. Anon, who is centring Steve now? Sure. He fucked up in s1. Literally no one denies that. He fucked up and he worked to make things right. He cleaned up the graffiti, he went to apologize to Jonathan, and he presumably apologized to Nancy, because she decided to date him for eleven months after that. I highly doubt there wasn’t heavy gossip about the graffiti or their breakup/makeup. I do agree that before Tina’s party Steve wasn’t helping Nancy as much as he could have, but Nancy wasn’t communicating to him either. They weren’t in the right place for each other. If we consider the alley the breakup, how is that not still breaking his heart? Yes Nancy was on a noble crusade, but it still had collateral damage. It’s something interesting about her character!
Robin wouldn’t be on board with the graffiti. But like. Steve’s changed and apologized since then. And She wasn’t there? She’s just here for the aftermath of Steve’s reignited feelings for Nancy. Idk. Both Steve and Nancy hurt each other in s1/2. It’s not a Steve v Nancy thing? It’s just an acknowledgment that of the two, Robin is closer to Steve. She’s more likely to consider him. She’s not omniscient to everything that happened or the persons feelings and reasons for doing it.
I’m sorry you don’t think friendship has an equal or greater value than some romantic relationship, it must suck. I also hope you find better things to do than to come to someone’s inbox and try to start something over a ship you like that they don’t.
#anti ronance#I censored it in my answer but anon didn’t so it might show up in the search#but not in the tag#findaanswers#listen. just get out of here#if you think I’m a stupid idiot then block and move on#but you clearly came here from somewhere looking at stuff to be mad at because I always make sure to tag#also everyone ignores that Steve has CURRENT FEELINGS for Nancy that ROBIN ENCOURAGED
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I need people to understand that Jason doesn’t kill because he was trained by assassins to do so, Jason was trained by assassins because he wanted to kill
#dc#jason todd#red hood#batfamily#batfam#batman#league of assassins#talia al ghul#dc comics#i think it’s an important distinction!#he could have walked away at any time after regaining his mental faculties!#jason wasn’t being held captive or forced to kill!#he made his choices and he chose violence!#pls stop taking that agency away from him#the loa has done a lot of awful stuff but this is not one of them#also ‘pit madness’ was never canonically a factor in anything he did
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Skdfnsdlfnlsdf, finally returned to KOTET with my Bounty Hunter and, man, is it two bad ideas in a row to introduce him to Kaliyo and then Havoc Squad. Him and Kaliyo would get along like a house on fire - way too damn well. In another life, those two would have conned the fuck out of each other and probably remained good friends if only because they enjoy that exact brand of humor. They’d have tried to kill each other, certainly, but, like, respect where respect is due for haulin’ ass like that, y’know?
And then poor Jorgan. There’s no way in hell they’d get along. There are very few things Lensan hates in this world like being told what to do and he’s a VERY opinionated stubborn jackass. Genuinely one of my irredeemable bastards and I’m 95% certain he knows this and thinks it’s grand. Len starts fights over disagreements. He fucks around and finds out almost entirely just to find out how much shit is too much shit for him to dig himself out of.
He can be reasonable. For short periods of time. He can get along well enough to get a job done. I think. But also, genuinely, truly, I believe Lensan is a dick and he chooses to continue to be one unapologetically. I’d hate this man if he were real.
But, as it is, he’s the most morally fucked of my fake little bundles of pixels and therefore I find watching him survive for credits, an unhealthy amount of whiskey, and sheer, raw, unfiltered SPITE absolutely HILARIOUS. This man really accepted Valkorian’s boon becase it seemed the most convenient way to maybe live at the time and then turned around and called him a BITCH to his FACE at the FIRST opportunity. It is not because Lensan is fighting a moral battle. This is strictly about some Sithy motherfucker trying to tell him what to do and pretend its the Morally Correct option.
Is it ANY less life or death to defy the most powerful evil entity in the galaxy now that he’s only a spectre inside his head rather than a physical being? Probably not. Might even be more so! But Lensan is pure gremlin that knows even his barest thread of cooperation is mildly beneficial and also he has no better ideas for how to fix this at the time, so, once again, he’s fucking around and finding out.
Literally a disaster. If for literally nothing else, I have to see just where this takes him because all of my other characters tackle this with far too much reason. Lensan is dropping a thermal detonator into an ocean of oil and going “BET” and just kadnfla;sndfl;sandflkndslfd. Bastard. Idiot. Absolute trash monkey.
I love him and also he fully deserves whatever consequences come to bite him in the ass. I don’t support his wrongs as in I think they’re right or even that he could be justified in some way. I support his wrongs in that I am watching them go down with the biggest bag of popcorn.
#swtor#ch: lensan#bounty hunter#literally this man has no right to be anywhere near the alliance and i think that's exactly why i chose violence i mean to do it anyway#he still doesn't trust theron bro he doesn't trust a lot of people he's terrible lana what were you thinking#len and his mistrust for the republic in general makes this whole thing rather unrealistic but i'm enjoying it specifically bc its bonkers#and also none of my other characters will make half the choices he will and half the fun is watching him do it in real time akdlfnalsdf#sorry this is out of nowhere i just i can't with him#i really do have THE love hate relationship with his existence#i made him to make poor decisions and by god he is going to DELIVER
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I think me and you might have two different pictures regarding the pig reader. I was picturing the most ever “Fuck it. we ball” bitch on the planet. That reader that I'm imagining couldn't win and then immediately went for The Silly To survive.
Probably not realistic at all. It is a bit more of an OC character with a second personal narrative. Maybe a bit of a Mary Sue? I don't know, I just think it's interesting.
As Someone having a battle of wills against the Luca Blight over how much Miserable Non-sexual pet play that they would do without him even saying a damn word is the kind of dark comedy I can get behind. Are you determined enough? How much of a good actor are you to act like an obedient little piggy? How long can you last holding yourself together? How much can you take and still know that you are a human deep inside? How much do you have to bury to survive? How long can this act last before you get consumed? Or can you be clever enough to get yourself out without revealing yourself to be smarter than you should? All you know is that you should never stand up and absorb as much as you can and try to keep yourself as sane as possible. you will get through this. This Little Piggy has a life worth fighting for. (((What's got to be done to make this work? How are you going to appeal to him?)))) You're not going to come out of this unscathed but you're going to come out of this No Matter What.
(((This thought probably came from How I Probably cuz I really can't comprehend somebody doing for any amount of time In this particular scenario involving Luca blight Without Either being absolute batshit insane or completely cracked out in deceit and determination. (To be fair being pathetic is totally an option but man does anyone want to be that pathetic?)))
Am I honestly asking for an unconventional badass reader in this situation? Yes actually. Can we split this in two versions cuz I think both are very valid. Mind breaking with agony due to a great fear of death versus strong-willed piggy with no shame, willing to do anything. (((Not to say that the reader in the mind breaks the Submissive Pig thing can't be strong nor is incredibly valid, of course. any reader got to be to last this long but man is that such a nearly inconceivable dark spot to even think about let alone wright geez. I like to explore all angles still )))
I actually think we're very much on the same page with this reader's strength, anon. Where you are on the outside and seeing the inherent hilarity of the situation, I'm simply writing it from the perspective of Luca Blight projecting onto the reader.
To him you are lowly. To bow your head and eat whatever scraps he's willing to give you. To oink and squeal and stare with empty eyes. To do anything, even give up your pride, to survive. He sees what he wants to see with you, a pathetic thing desperate to live, like himself all those years ago captured by a city state. It is the way of being human, a way he's long sense abandoned. He finds humor in seeing it on full display.
But you're right, the reader is strong. They made a choice and they stick by it and they are strong for it. How long are they willing to bow their head, to be treated as an animal, to be looked down upon and shamed. They don't feel that shame but it is there, in the pitying eyes of Jowy Atreides, in the mocking laugh of Rowd, in the way the Windamiers refuse to acknowledge them. It's there, it is not felt but it is there and it is known.
The one thing I've yet to wrap my head around is the reader's feelings for Luca. You'd expect resentment, hatred, for the man who burned your village and murdered your friends and family and now owns you like a personal pet. Who laughs at you and yells at you and threatens you with a sword daily before once again collapsing into hysterics upon looking at your face.
Perhaps it's pity, to be so near Luca Blight, like no one has ever been before, is to see the little things, to hear the fear crack in his voice before he raises it louder while speaking to himself in his chamber. To see him loose sleep, to skip meals, to randomly burst into rage unfit for a king and destroy his chambers before collapsing into a fit of hysterical laughter amongst the destruction. You know something awful happened to him, that he may have lived like you are now once upon a time.
I think I've landed on indifference. Like how Luca cares naught for you, you care naught for Luca. You are his pig, a creature he keeps around for entertainment, and you stay for food and the warmth of his bed and safety so long as you stay as you are. This is the exchange. It is one of chance, of happen stance, anyone could have been here in his room resting on a pillow by his feet. But it's you. Oh so stubborn you.
This little piggy has a life worth fighting for.
#Luca Blight#Luca Blight X Reader#This is to say I think this reader is very strong#I think they're stubborn and determined#I think they put their life above their pride and it doesn't bother them to do so#I think they're like Luca in that way#And that's why they get to live where other's didn't#I see the humor in the senario trust me I do and so does Luca that's why he keeps you#But I also see the realness of it#The choices made and the actions taken to persevere one's own life above anything else#I think the only thing we disagree on is the idea that they fought Luca Blight at first#Facing him in any sort of combat in a forfeit of life#He doesn't stop attacking until his opponent stops breathing#Instead I think they looked upon the destruction and the violence and the hatred in his eyes#And chose to kneel their head and commit#For it was their only option#Shaking you shaking you Anon Do You Understand???#They're so strong this reader is so strong THEY ARE JUST LIKE LUCA AND THEY ARE BOTH SO STRONG
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I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.
Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.
But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.
No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.
I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.
Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.
Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.
But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.
But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.
He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.
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𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.
Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
(<<< part one)
“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.
You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.
“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”
“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.
“Well, have you?”
Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment.
And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…
You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.
Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.
As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it.
With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do.
Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind.
And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink.
“You should slash his tires”
“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”
“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"
"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"
Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good.
But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.
So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”
Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”
“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.
“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”
You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”
“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”
“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”
You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.
“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.
And boy, did you.
You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.
—
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.
After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.
You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”
“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
You frowned.
“Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.
“We have classes together?”
You blinked, impassive.
“We went on a date?”
A head shake.
“We slept together!”
“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”
That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane.
“How can you not remember?”
“How can I remember something that never happened?”
“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”
You smiled, a trap.
“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending.
Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”
“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”
“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”
You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.
Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”
A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.
“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.
“Finally you said something true.”
Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.
“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”
Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.
When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”
Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”
And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly.
There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.
When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.
And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.
It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.
That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.
And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.
The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.
And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.
But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.
And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.
He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.
But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.
Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.
And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,
But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.
And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.
°•. ✿ .•°
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Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.
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Prologue: Your mother was the type of mother who would move from boyfriend to boyfriend. She could never keep a man on her hip for a long period of time, which was one of the reasons why your father was hardly present (he passed away when you were young anyway). Every time she got a boyfriend, she would forget that you're her daughter and would always choose the man over you. When she told you about her new boyfriend, you were over it. Nothing's new here. When you first met Miguel, you honestly didn't bother to learn a lot about him or to remember his name; however, he stuck the longest. You were quite surprised when you saw him more often. When you entered your freshman year of college, that's when she announced that Miguel wanted the both of you to move in with him.
You weren't too thrilled, but you were happy that your mom was getting serious about this. Besides, Miguel seems to be a nice gentleman. As the CEO of a science company, it was very impressive that your mom caught someone like him. He had manners and was humble about his success. He wasn't the type of rich man who would spend a lot of time partying and drinking; he was laid-back and spent more time in his office. You also hardly ever see him smile. Not seeing him smile made you wonder about the relationship between him and your mom. Three months after moving in, your mom's old habits came back. She would go out and party with her friends. She would drink wine every now and then. You know she makes bad choices when she drinks alcohol, so when you saw her coming home late and drunk, you were disappointed. She acted like a high school girl, which made you feel embarrassed. A lot of people would tell you to give your mom a break and that having a child can be difficult, so you shouldn't judge a mother for having 'fun'.
But when you were little, she was late to pick you up from school because she was too busy at the mall with her friends; it made you feel unnoticed. Or when she would miss your school events when they gave you an award for what you're good at because she was too hungover from last night's fun; it made you feel unwanted. Or when one of her boyfriends dragged you outside of the house because you didn't want to leave so they could have some 'alone time' and your mom yelled at you for not listening, it made you feel unloved. Sure, moms have a right to live their lives, but they also have a responsibility to care for their children.
Your mother never really had a job growing up; the both of you relied on money from the man she would be with. This caused your grandparents to yell at your mom when you were little, telling her that she needed to grow up and get a job. Your mom would reply by saying that she never chose this life, and now that she's in it, she could do whatever she pleases. So to be fair, it's not that shocking that she got involved with a rich guy like Miguel.
Sadly, you can say that your concerns were right. You were in your bedroom. After a year of staying at a luxurious house, you are now sitting in your new bed, hearing an argument between your mother and her boyfriend downstairs. The first time you ever heard them argue was at the moment Miguel caught your mom sleeping with other men.
"You're working all the time, so obviously I'm going to get bored here!" your mother yelled at Miguel.
"Oh, so sleeping with other men while I provide for you is totally acceptable, my bad," Miguel argued back.
"Please is not like you would do the same!" Your mom's hands were flying in the air.
He pointed to her with his eyebrows forward and his eyes getting dark. "No, I wouldn't! Unlike you, I have morals."
"Really!? How about that day I caught you doing you know what!" Ah, yes. The day she caught him doing something quite interesting. "Oh whatever, I'm going out. Besides I have a new man who knows how to pleasure me." You could hear the front door slam loudly. Did your mom leave? Did she leave without telling you? Did she leave you alone with her now ex-boyfriend? Is Miguel no longer in your life?
You looked out and saw, with the little opening from your door, Miguel going back and forth from his bedroom back downstairs. You really make out what you can see, but it was clear that he was carrying out suitcases. Most likely your mom's things. Does this mean you have to move out as well? Do you need to start packing? You got up from your bed as Miguel was entering back to his bedroom pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did my mom leave."
He turned around giving you the usual expression he has. "Um....y-yeah she did."
"I'm sorry, I'll leave as soon as possible I'll just pack my things." You were about to enter your room when Miguel stopped you.
"No!" You stopped your tracks and turned to him. "no...I mean. Stay. I don't know where your mom left and I won't like it if you're out there alone. So stay."
You gave him a nod, "O-okay."
It's been five months since your mother left you with her ex-boyfriend. You tried contacting her, but all the calls and text messages were left hanging. You have no clue where she went. Did she actually forget about you? Was she so caught up with her own drama that she forgot about her daughter? Yes, you're an adult, but she left you living with a stranger.
The communication between you and Miguel has been dry. Well, they're always dry. At times during dinner, it would be quiet that no one spoke. Most times, while he's busy at his office, it'll just be you eating alone. You immediately felt guilty that you were using his money, so you quickly got a part-time job so you didn't have to rely on him. You don't really plan to live with him forever, right?
One day after you finished your classes, you decided to go on an apartment hunt. You really felt more comfortable moving out. You have no business living there. Luckily, you're able to find a small, affordable place to live. Not ideal, but you'll take whatever seems fit.
It was close to your college and it was perfect for one person, which is all you need.
When you went back, you couldn't seem to hide the happy smile on your face that you couldn't see Miguel sitting on the couch in the living room." What are you so happy about?" He questioned.
His voice caught you off guard it made you jump a bit. "sorry, I didn't see you there. Um...I found a place to live, so I would be out of your hair soon." You placed your book bag down on the floor.
He got up from the grey leather slate couch and walked towards you. His white dress shirt could barely hide all his muscles, especially with a few buttons undone, revealing more of his tanned chest. "You didn't have to do that, mi amor."
"Well, I can't live here forever and you are going to move on soon so-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.
"When I told you to stay, I meant it." His hand caressed the side of your arm. " Estas tan hermorsa, mi amor. (You're so beautiful, my love)." He grabbed your chin to lift your head up so your eyes could meet his. His touch made you feel some type of way. His serious look made you feel something. You shouldn't feel this. This isn't okay. He shook his head lightly, "How can you afford your own place?"
"I- I got a part-time job and I've been saving up." You took a step back, but only for him to follow you more in. "I just don't see why I have to stay here. My mom is not here and the only reason why I'm here is because of her."
"Let me take care of you." He leans in closer to you. "Let me be with you." His last words were a faint whisper that you couldn't hear it well.
"Miguel, I don't think this is appropriate?" You moved your head to the side, walking away from him. "It's best if I move. I don't think this is right."
"Stay." He says.
"No, I can't." You reply to him with his back turned to you.
He turned to you. "Please stay."
You looked around the house. "It's the best for the both of us if I move out of here. One day, you'll get a girlfriend." Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head."..And..I'll get a boyfriend."
He quickly made his eye gaze to look at you and with a swift speed, he walked up to you. "Boyfriend?" His speed made lose your breath a bit. Your body tense up at how tall his structure is. "Is that why you wanted to move out? You have a boyfriend."
You looked at him confused. Why does he seem bothered by this? you thought. "huh?- No. I mean, not now at least. But I will eventually. Just like how you'll get a new partner."
"No. I won't allow that to happen." He grabbed the side of your arms a bit harshly.
"M-Miguel?" You breathed out.
"You aren't moving out. You aren't leaving here, and you're certainly not going to have a fucking boyfriend." Miguel leaned into your ear saying all of these things to you and you felt completely frozen.
You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him off a bit so you could get out of his strong grip. You walked away from him so far that you felt the big bookcase behind your back. "What's the matter with you! You're my mom's ex-boyfriend. You're older than me. You aren't the boss of me and you are not going to shove me around like the others!" You felt your eyes get glossy. Your eyes opened wide with now hearing everything you had said. You shouldn't treat him like this. He has given you shelter and food. Without him offering you to stay, you'll be homeless right now. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to"
Miguel felt his hands forming a tight fist. "Like the others?"
"No, I don't know what I'm talking about" You palmed your head trying to fix the situation.
He walked closer to you. He didn't break eye contact with you. "Has anyone ever hurt you?" You didn't say anything back which made him frustrated. "Answer me."
You looked up and realized how close he was to you. No matter how far you get away from him, he seems to always find a way to be close to you. "N-no. It's stupid. Just forget what I said. I'll move out and none of this ever happened okay."
"It's not okay! You're. Not. Leaving. Now tell me what you mean by others or I swear I'll do something you won't love." He looked at you with anger in his eyes. He's a very intimidating man. The most intimidating man you ever met. He held your wrist with one of his hands while his eyes were filled with hatred.
You felt your body tremble with his presence." Y-yes. But it wasn't constant. It was just when one of my mom's ex-boyfriends got angry they took it out on me. It's not bad and it's not serious. Please let go of me."
Miguel took a deep breath before letting you go. "I'm not like the others."
"You sure act like them." You said, but instantly regretted it.
"Mi amor, be careful about what you're going to say next. I really, really don't want to hurt you. So please, be a good girl and do whatever I fucking tell you." Miguel lifts his chin up making his statue be more bigger and taller.
"Why can't I leave? Wouldn't it be easier if I left? I won't cause you any more problems if I leave." You plea to him trying to get reason with him.
He walked away from you, throwing his hands around. "Por dios! that's enough about you leaving! I don't want to hear it anymore!" He screamed at you making you feel weak.
"I was wrong about you. I thought that you were good, but I was wrong. You're just like her ex-boyfriends. All of you!Jerks! Now I understand why she did what she did!" You felt your body tremble with how slowly he was walking back to you.
"If you think bringing up that bitch of your mother is going to get me mad then you are wrong. I! Don't! Care! About her! I'm glad that bitch left." He towered over you, "Now, comparing me to those low-life fucking men, you really just want to push my buttons, sweetheart."
"I hate you!" You felt a small speck of tears falling down in the corner of your eyes, feeling it rolling down your cheek.
"Hate me all you want, it won't change the fact that you are staying no matter what. You aren't leaving me." He grabbed both of your wrists pulling you closer to you. He gripped your face, pinching both of your cheeks with his fingertips. "You. Are. MINE!"
He dragged you back to his bedroom. You kept kicking and screaming, but he didn't care, he kept dragging you to his bed. "Please let go of me! I'm sorry!" You begged him to let you go. He opened his bedroom door and pulled you in holding your waist. He threw you on top of the bed. He shut the door and locked it. You quickly pulled yourself together using his pillows as a shield. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" you sobbed.
He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down, sliding you near the edge of the bed. He separated your legs apart and got between them. His eye contact wasn't breaking off with you, following your head movements all around. He grabbed your face again to make you look at him more clearly. "You're gonna behave?" You nodded feeling the hot tears rolling down. "You'll do what I say. You will live here. You will become my wife and you will be mine. End of story."
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The sound of the hot oil and vegetables sizzling filled the entire kitchen. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the chef hurry and place the finished food onto two plates. The chef fixed his white apron and stood by the dining room table with the food ready to be eaten. He saw Miguel waking in wearing his black blazer with his white dress shirt. "Sir, the food is ready."
"Okay, thank you." Miguel took off his blazer letting out a sigh. Work can get complicated for Miguel, so his coming home a little tired was normal. He could hear another pair of footsteps coming closer to him. He looked to his side and saw you standing there.
You stood in front of him with your fingers fiddling with each other. "Hi." You said softly.
He leaned over, giving you a light kiss on the lips. You accepted it. You accepted a lot of things without resisting anymore. He gave a smile and peck on the cheek. "After we eat, I want to take a bath with you."
You nodded as you took your seat on the dining room table. The chef left back to the kitchen to clean up leaving you and Miguel all alone. Not the first time the both of you have been alone, but now it's different. Now you share his bed. Now you give him a kiss on the lips when he leaves for work. Now the both of you shower together and bathe together when he wants to. The first time he wanted to do this, you protested, but it only resulted in him dragging you and stripping you naked.
He hasn't been intimate with you, but you know when that time comes, your cries won't help you.
You've been with him for six months. Six months of you and him sharing a bed together. In total, you've been in the house for two years now. No word from your mother not like you cared anymore. Miguel made you take online college so you don't have to leave the house. As for the part-time job you had, Miguel had to go in and apologize that you can no longer work. Miguel being rich and successful gave him respect for his name so no one questioned him. Miguel brought in his lawyers to deal with your bank account so you can use his instead whenever you feel like it. If you want to buy clothes or shoes online or anything that you like, you can get by using his money. Recently, he's been discussing marriage licenses with his lawyers. He does want you to have a big wedding, but to make it easy, just getting your marriage license and certificate was enough.
Besides, who are you going to invite to a wedding you're being forced to.
"How was work?" You asked.
"Tiring. It would be a whole lot easier if these interns knew what they were doing instead of keeping their hands in their pants. I swear they changed the ways of teaching now. Don't know how they graduated." He swallowed his food, taking a sip of water. "Speaking of which, I talked to the administrator and they will accept you in to finish college there if you want it. Sure, it'll still be online, but you'll get the education you want." Due to your mother relying on her past boyfriends to cover her finances, you didn't exactly have the benefits of choosing your dream college. Miguel insisted for him to get you in. "Although, I don't see why you'll need it. You have me." He has told you that you won't need the degree. Why? Your future husband is filthy rich and intelligent. "How about If I gave two options. Choose to finish college or I'll give two days to go outside every week." It's been six months since you stepped foot outside. You remember the last time you were out in public. It was when you were looking for a place to live. Miguel ended up buying that entire apartment building, flipping it and now owns it. He doesn't really go there or actually work there, he just hired people to run it really. Because of this, people loved him due to his kindness in getting people jobs on top of that he gave people good homes at affordable prices. He's a real hero to the people.
Finish college or go outside two times every week. On the one hand, you want to finish your goal to finish your studies. On the other, you really wanted to go outside and finally breathe some air. what is the catch though? What's the point? If you do finish college, that degree will sit in the closet collecting dust. If you choose to go outside, what else will there be to it? Do you want a little bit of freedom you can get? Or waste your time doing something you're not going to need?
Miguel can see your head thinking of these two options. "If choose to go out, I'll hire two bodyguards to be with you at all times."
What to choose? What to pick?
The water of the bath was warm and it felt relaxing. Your back was resting on Miguel's torso. You could feel his rock-hard abs and chest. Your head rested on one of his pecks. You felt his arms embracing you. You felt the warmth of his body all over you. The last of the bubbles from the body wash went away from your body and his. The sound of water wooshing around filled the bathroom. "I want to go outside." You finally said.
Miguel smiled at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek.
The smile you had never seen before. The smile you thought that never existed on this man was now showing.
You met two bodyguards Miguel hired. They rarely spoke. They hardly made contact with you which wasn't weird. Miguel told them what they had to do while they were in his home office. You waited outside, ready to go out for the first time in six months.
When they finally got out, they took you outside. Miguel kissed you on the lips and told you to have fun.
The two guards were on your side at all times. Even when you were in the bathroom with a bunch of stalls, the female bodyguard went in with you. When any other male figure even turned their heads to you, the male bodyguard gave them a look. The two guards wore sunglasses so you don't even though the color of their eyes.
One thing for sure though, is that they noticed how you didn't buy anything during your trips to the mall or any store. They dressed this to Miguel since they had to report everything you did whenever you would go out.
Eventually, it led to Miguel talking to you. The both of you were in bed getting ready to sleep when you felt his arm wrapping around your torso. "Don't hesitate to buy anything you want. If you want it then get it, mi amor. My money is your money."
If you spend his money it means that you have accepted this fate. You've accepted him and this new life. Are you ready to accept it?
The sun was shining through making everything hot and glow. The beautiful tiles on the floor and little square pots with trees in every other corner and center. People walk by with their shopping bags looking for their store to shop in. The outside mall is probably one of your favorite spots. Look at you, just like your mother. The two guards by your side, walking along with you. The only thing you got was a pretzel. You don't know what you want? Why are you there in the first place?
You offered your pretzal bites to the guards, but they didn't accept it. They're really serious about this then. You ended up seeing a nice jacket on display. It was a jacket perfect for your style. You entered in looking for it. When you finally found it you checked the price and cringed at how expensive it was for you. Do you really need to spend that kind of money on a jacket? Are you even going to wear it?
You let your mind turn off and your body control you. You grabbed the jacket from the rack and made your way to the front counter. The cashier asked you if you found everything okay and you replied yes. When she said the total, you grabbed the card that Miguel gave you and pressed it on the little card reader. When the machine said 'approved' you sighed with how dumb this decision might've been. You walked out of the store and told the guards that you were ready to go home.
Little did you know that one of your mom's friends saw you walking out?
When you got home, Miguel asked you how the trip to the mall was and the guard told them everything that you did. He then asked to see you wear the jacket. You put on the jacket and showed it to him. He got up from his chair and got closer to you. He palmed your cheek and pulled your face to kiss you on the lips. "It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You look gorgeous."
"I might return it." Still not satisfied with the choice you made. Are you ready for this?
"Why?" He questioned.
"I might not even wear it." You said back to him.
"You could wear it to our first date." He said.
He never took you out on an actual date. He's been too busy with trying to get you used to your life. However, since you have been good lately, he felt like it was ready to take you out somewhere special. "Date?"
"Yes. I want to take you. So, tomorrow, I'll come home early, we'll get ready and enjoy ourselves." He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips closer to your ear. "I want our first time to be special."
You had a hard time sleeping. You kept replaying the things he said to you in his office. When you finally shut your eyes, morning already come. Miguel left early for work so you didn't wake up with him by your side. You had your breakfast that the chef prepared. You went back to the bedroom, walking past your old bedroom that you stayed in. Miguel turned it into a regular guest bedroom or an empty bedroom for future 'family members.' You go through your side of the walk-in closet and pick out an outfit (Whatever style outfit fits you). You laid it out on the bed and started to feel a bit nervous.
You never had a man to treat like this. Is it bad? Is it good? He shut you out from the world and forced you to be with him. Should you be grateful? Is Miguel a complete psycho?
You're going to spend a special night with him. Your first time with him. You never thought it would be him. Yes, he's fit and handsome. Yes, he has everything a woman wants. Yes, he's caring and he's caring to you. Are you ready though?
As hours pass you finally got up and took a shower. You get ready, putting on your shoes that match the outfit perfectly. By the time you finished, Miguel already got home and took a shower. You waited in the living room fiddling with your fingers. Picking a bit of skin in your cuticles. If you had a purse, you would clutch onto the straps. Miguel has mentioned that you don't need to carry a purse when you're with him because he has all you need.
When he got out, he was wearing a dark navy blazer with pants that matched, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. His hair was slick back as usual. You stood up. "eres una belleza, mi amor." he said to you.
He took your hand and led you out of the house and into the back of his black SUV. He sat right next to you with his hand on your thigh. On the ride, you hardly spoke. It was just Miguel talking to you about the place you guys are going. You did wonder where he was going to take you.
When you got out of the car, you saw a big helicopter in front of you. The nervousness came back. You never done this before. You clutched to Miguel's arm for comfort. Really, the only comfort you have. "Don't be scared. I'll be right next to you."
He led you inside the helicopter with his help. You put on the headset and strap in the seat belt. Miguel was talking to the helicopter pilot. The pilot is a dear friend of Miguel and is the one to take Miguel wherever he needs. Miguel pointed out the view by your side and told you to look. When you did, you were in awe at how beautiful it was. All the lights blend in. The sunset setting down. It was amazing.
When the stop was made, Miguel helped you out of the helicopter by grabbing your waist and lifting you down. He held your hand as he guided you inside the big fancy restaurant. The restaurant looked like the inside of a Victorian opera house. You won't be surprised if it was one. The hostess said hi to Miguel and took the both of you into a nice room with a nice round table with a white cloth. It was perfectly decorated. All the staff talked to Miguel as if he was a regular here. Again, you won't be surprised if he comes here often. The hostess handed you the menu, even the menu was fancy. The first thing you did notice was the prices. The prices were through the roof. Not even a side salad was affordable. Do the ingredients have magic powers or something? You thought.
"What're you getting?" Miguel asked, placing the many down on the table. The sound of light jazz music played throughout the restaurant and it sounded like it was live.
"I'm getting (Whatever you want)" You looked out trying to take a peek through the red velvet curtains.
"They're playing jazz on the first floor. They bring in jazz players or pianists to play for the people here. Sometimes an orchestra." He said.
You took a sip of your water admiring the architecture of the place that you are in. When the waiter came in, you told him what you wanted, the same with Miguel. Soon, the both of you are eating the most delicious food you have ever tasted in your life.
"Delicious right?" Miguel saw the way you were enjoying it. You nodded in response. "Five years ago, I went here with some business partners to talk about expanding the way science should be taught. When I first tasted the food, I fell in love with it."
"Your past girlfriends must've been happy being here." You said, softly.
"No. I never took any of my ex-girlfriends here. This is a special place for me. I wanted to bring someone who I knew would enjoy it with me forever. That person is you." He went to grab the check that the waiter put down and put his black card inside, handing it back to the waiter.
He took you back out and enjoyed the night and the stars riding the helicopter. He griped on your thigh as you gripped on his biceps. The wind was nice and it wasn't too harsh so it didn't ruin your hair, but the air felt nice on your skin.
Back home, the lights were dimmed. He started to guide back to the bedroom. This is when you felt fear. You forgot about this part. You were enjoying yourself so much that you forgot the other part of the date. He turned your back to him and started to take off your jacket that you just bought. He held your waist sliding his hand up and down.
He then started to shift your clothes off your body until you were left with your undergarments. He turned you around so you can face him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his clothes. He tugged his red tie and threw on one of the armchairs, unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his belt, and zipped his pants. When he was in his briefs, you felt your heart racing.
He went in and kissed your neck. leaving trails of wet kisses all over your collarbone. You felt his fingers trying to unhook your bra, but you quickly grabbed his arms to stop him. "Wait. I don't think I can do this."
He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. "Why?"
Why? Is he serious? Why? "Because I don't want it." You saw him placing his hand on his forehead and his other hand on his waist. "Because you're my mom's ex-boyfriend."
"Ay, que caramba! Por dios! ya estoy harto que tu siempre mencionas esto!" He yelled at you. "I don't love her! I don't care about her! She never meant anything to me!" He bent over and hovered over you, "When I first met her, I wasn't planning on being with her. I didn't like her. But when she introduced you to me, I realized who was meant for me."
"Me?" Your eyes widened with what he just confessed.
"Yes! you! It was a pain to sleep next to her knowing that you were in the other room. It was a pain when she gave me a kiss on the lips when you were sitting there watching. I felt heartbroken for you. For you to see it." His eyes were lighted, " So, I worked long hours so I could avoid her. Never meant to avoid you. It worked because when I found out that she slept with other men, it was enough for me to kick her out."
"I don't understand?" Why not just kick her out before?
"I have control, I do. But when you are there, I can't help myself." Miguel remembered the day your mother caught him jerking off while moaning your name. It was the first argument they actually had without you there. You were attending your college course classes during all of this, so how would you know this happened. Your mother was angry. More angry at you for catching his attention than her. It made sense since he never showed any actual interest in your mother, especially in bed. She also felt embarrassed as well that he was more interested in you than her. So she told Miguel that she would leave and take you far away from him, but he didn't want that. If he kicked her out then she would take you with her. However, when he caught her in bed with another man it was enough to get back at her. He knew that she was money-hungry for men, that she'd choose them over you. So when she found her new toy, she was already on her way out. "I never slept with her, If that's what you're worried about? I never did. Most nights I slept in the armchair so I wouldn't be in the same bed as her. At times I would sleep on the couch and leave for work early."
"So..this entire time you wanted..." You felt so dumb to not notice all the signs. There were no signs at all.
"You. I wanted you. Now that I have you here. Sleeping in the same bed as me, I'm not going to let you go. EVER! I want to marry you, kiss you, make love to you, have kids with you, grow old with you. I want you. I need you. I'll kill anyone and anything that gets in our way." He went on and kissed you deeply. He moved you more onto the bed.
He yanked your bra off your body. He started to massage your breast with his large hands. He gripped the line of your panties and pulled them down. He ignored you. Ingorned your cries to stop. It was so into his own head, he didn't hear your plea.
He pulled down his briefs, feeling his cock hardened. He spread your legs apart and starts to circle your clit. He inserted his finger inside and started to pump in and out. He felt the inside of your walls. When he did enough to get you wet, he inserted his cock inside you. He nuzzled in your neck, kissing you, and leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck. He let his cock rest inside your pussy for a while so you can get used to his size. He knows that he's big, so he wanted to make sure that you take him well. The pain was through as you dug your nails on his back. Maybe you should enjoy it? You should be grateful.
He moved his hips slowly, moving back and forth. Soon the pace began to fasten. The sound of the bed creaking filled the room. The sound of his grunts and moans entered into your ear. "Fuck. Yes..ahh..mhm~" He placed his hand on the sides of your head and thrust inside you harder and faster. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."
His balls were slapping your ass as he lifted your waist off the bed and fucked you in harder than ever. Your thighs were vibrating with how fast he was going. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. When he felt like he was going to ejaculate, he embraced you into him, and you felt your breast against his own muscle pecks. "Ah! Fuck! Take my cum, sweetheart." He felt his semen injecting inside you. He felt your womb being filled up that some of his cum spilled out and ran down his balls. You held on to him tight feeling your body being filled up by him. Your thighs shook with how hard he fucked you. Your tears were now dried up and your sobs turned into slight whimpers. You felt your face heating up. An older man just took your virginity. You felt ashamed, but good at the same time.
"I'm not done with you, mi amor." He huffed as the last drop of cum left his still-rocked hard cock. He sat down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. You sat between his legs as he spread your legs apart once more. His fingers went down and started to play with your clit. You covered your mouth to stop you from moaning, but it angered Miguel. "Don't! I wanna hear you, querida"
"M-Miguel...Ahh~ mmm..." You felt his fingers flicking your clit and rubbing it slowly. You wanted him to go faster. His other hand went and groped your breast, he pinched your nipple while rubbing your throbbing clit. "It...Ahhh! it feels good, Miguel! Ahhh~....mmm~...faster please."
"Want me to go faster?" the tip of his finger was gently circling your clit that was begging for him to get abused.
"Yes! Mmmm~....Yes! Please!" Your head was thrown back at the feeling of his touch.
"Yes what, mi amor?" He pinched your clit and moved it side to side, slowly.
"Yes!...oh god!...Mhmmm~...ngh..faster!...." You felt your lips opening your pussy with the amount of pleasure you are feeling. The wetness filled all over your area. You felt wetness and some of his cum leaking out to the bed. Miguel's thought of you squirting all over the bed turned him on even more. The bed filled with your juices made him more horny than ever. You felt his rock-hard cock on your back. It didn't help that with his movements he was making towards your clit was making you squirm your back, rubbing his cock in the process. "Please.. go faster...Ahh!...Ngh...yes Daddy~."
With that, he rubbed your clit at a fast speed. "Like this, mi amor."
Your pussy was getting wet and wet with each orgasm you were having. "Yes..Ahh!..ooh!..mmm~!"
Sweat was dripping down your face and body. "This pussy is so good. I'm gonna fucking abuse this pussy. Yes, baby. Yeah~." He slapped your clit a couple times which caused a few leaks to spray out.
"Yes! Yes!~" Your eyes were closed shut. Your breath was losing control.
"Who's this pussy belong to." He slapped your clit one more time. "Is this daddy's pussy baby..yeah. Fuck! Your so fucking wet." He slapped your entire pussy feeling the wetness on his hand. He rubbed your clit even more but would stop just to see it twitch. "This clit is so juicy. This belongs to me. Look at it throb. Fuck! You're driving me insane amor!"
Soon you felt like you were going to explode. You didn't care about the mess, you wanted the pleasure to continue. You arched your back and felt your pussy squirting all over the bed sheets. A pool of your juices formed under your ass cheeks.
It didn't stop. It never stopped. He inserted his fingers inside you again and played with your walls. He wasn't pumping in and out, he was rubbing your walls on the inside. He opened your pussy even more and you felt another gush of your juices squirting out again. The bed sheets were drenched with all your juices. "It's like a waterfall." He continued to rub your red clit more. He would lick his fingers and go on to flick your clit.
"Oh god! Ahh! Ahh!~" You felt his entire palm rubbing it.
"I want to taste you." He grabbed your clit and abused it even more making you squirt all over.
He picked you up and placed you on the armchair. He kneeled down and spread your legs. He saw a good view of your pussy he began to dive in. He licked you all over. "Fuck! It's so good! Don't stop! Don't stop...oh~" you screamed out. You gripped his head and felt his tongue flicking more of your clit. He felt a small spray of your juices landing on his face. He can't get enough. He wanted to drown in it. "Yes! Fuck me! Daddy! Fuck me! This pussy is yours!" Another gush of squirt left your body. Miguel went in and drank as much of it as he could.
He told you to kneel on the floor and you did. He sat down on the armchair and told you to open your mouth. When you did, he shoved his cock inside your mouth.
You looked at him and felt the warmth of his cock down your throat. He bobbed your head up and down moaning. "Fuck!...you like sucking my cock baby...shit!...mmm~...oh fuck." It didn't take too long for him to cum inside your mouth. He pulled out and let the rest of his cum spray all over your face. "Ahh~...shit....look at you...covered with my semen...Open your mouth, mi amor." You did. You showed him the cum inside your mouth. "Swallow it~"
He wanted to cover you with more of his cum so he started to jerk off. "Touch yourself. I want you to touch yourself, mi amor."
You sat on the floor and spread your legs to show him your full view of your sensitive spot. You never touched yourself before. You picked on your clit and felt it warm and wet. You went all out and fingered your clit with your hand while the other was keeping you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head back. "Look at me. I want to see you." Miguel said, feeling his balls bouncing up and down. You looked at him, biting your lip, feeling tears going down with how good the pleasure was. Your legs couldn't stop shaking with how much you're stimulated. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt more squirt coming out of you. You came too early that you wanted to insert a finger inside you. So you ignored that cum and shoved a finger inside. You never felt the inside of your walls. The fact that Miguel was watching it was making you act crazy. "Good girl. Fuck...you're such a good girl.." He huffed and swallowed the little bit of saliva in his mouth. He felt cum about to come out, but he stopped himself making him edge.
You played with your pussy, digging inside and rubbing your walls until you found your g-spot. Your legs tremble as your fingers got covered with more of your own cum. A pool formed on the floor filled with pussy juice.
Miguel moaned out as cum sprayed out of his penis and covered your face.
You don't know how long the two of you were at. He came inside you three more times and made you squirt so many times, you felt your legs going numb.
You don't remember the rest of the night. When you woke up, you felt fresh new bedsheets over you. Your skin felt clean and smooth. When you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt so sore that you couldn't budge.
You heard the bedroom door open and saw Miguel in nothing but sweatpants. "Good morning, mi amor" He was carrying a tray of food and brought it to your side.
"What time is it?" You asked.
"It's already noon. I woke up thirty minutes ago." He placed the tray on your lap.
"You didn't go to work?" You took a sip of the water, feeling your body getting hydrated.
"Why would I go to work after the night we both had." He smiled remembering all of the things you both had done. "Last night..was the best night I ever had. I love you."
He loves you. "I don't..I don't remember what else happened..how-"
He let out a small chuckle, "it's alright, cariño. I changed the bedsheets and gave the both of us a bath. When I put you back on the bed, you immediately knocked out. You were so tired mi vida. Next time I'll go gentle on you, I'm sorry."
-------------------------------------------------------
It's been a few days since that night. Everything went back to how it was. Miguel was more physical with you. The two guards were still there when you wanted to go out.
Eventually, Miguel told you that he wanted to take you where he works that way you could have a feel for what he does. He never brought it anyone personal, or anyone at all. So when people saw him bringing you, they were shocked. He showed you all of the building and what exactly each person does. For someone who works at a very large building with many, many people, he has a good memory of the names of his employees.
Miguel had to excuse himself to you when he was called into an important meeting. You went and saw a vending machine outside the cafeteria and decided to get yourself a little snack. You were about to put in some quarters from your pocket when you heard another male voice behind you. You turned around and a guy wearing a lab coat and his name tag on the little pocket of the coat. "Sorry." You moved to the side, but he followed along. You looked to your sides and saw no one around.
"What a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guy said.
"Um..my boyfriend brought me here." You said.
"Boyfriend? Always the pretty ones get taken. So who's the lucky guy? Or are you just lying?" You excused yourself and started to walk away.
He ran up to you, "So what's your name?" He said.
"Why?" You questioned.
"Can't I know the pretty girl's name?" He said in almost an offended tone.
"I have to go." You walked a bit faster, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. You didn't want to cause any trouble, especially at Miguel's work.
You also certainly didn't want to make Miguel mad. Everything was going good, you didn't want to anger him.
Your prayers have been heard because the two guards came and told the guy to basically fuck off. You never thought you would be happy to see your two guards. "Please don't tell Miguel about this. I don't want him to worry. I don't want to cause trouble. Please."
They didn't reply, which was the usual for them to do, but you hoped that they'd listen.
When Miguel finished his meeting, he met up with you and the two of you went back home together.
You thought that the two guards kept the secret because Miguel never mentioned it. He didn't really need to. That guy won't bother you ever again.
While the both of you were enjoying dinner, the doorbell rang. You looked at Miguel who looked back at you confused.
Who's here at this time?
Miguel went to answer it and saw someone he never thought he'd see. "What are you doing here?"
The woman rolled her eyes and made her way inside the home. "You'd think I'll just leave? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.
You made your way to the front door and saw her. Your mother.
You can tell she changed her looks..again. Your mother looked at you and gave you a disgusted look. "So it is true. You're with her!"
"What are you talking about?" Miguel asked.
"A little birdy told me that she was out shopping at an expensive store." She crossed her arms. "I know she doesn't have money and knowing you and that weird fantasy you had, made me think? Has he really gone all out and started a relationship with my daughter?"
"I'm not your daughter." You said with hatred in your eyes. You had enough of her behavior. Of her stupidity. Of her immaturity.
"Whores don't get to talk!" She screamed at you.
"Don't call her that! The only whore here is you!" Miguel screamed back at her. You went behind Miguel, holding his arm.
"Please! Because of her you lost interest in me! Because of her! Our relationship ended." She yelled.
"Mi amor, go to the room. I'll handle this okay." Miguel told you. You didn't want to but also didn't want to disobey him. You nodded and went to your guy's shared bedroom. You shut the door and climbed on top of the bed.
Miguel stormed up to her with his face fuming with anger. " There was no relationship, you fucking bitch. Me and you never existed. I was only using you to get close to (Y/N). The only one I care about is her. The only one I love is her. You are nothing to me." He saw her hand raising up and swinging forward towards the side of his face, but he saw right through. He caught her hand mid-air, "Don't you fucking dare."
She yanked away from his grip. "I'll tell people about you and her. I'll tell people how you are forcing a young 20-year-old to be in a relationship with you. I wonder how the people are gonna say that a guy in his late 30s is with a young girl without her consent?" She smeared a smirk on her face. "After all, I'm her mother, so people are most likely gonna say 'oh, poor her. She's looking after her daughter from a disgusting man. I Can't believe someone like Miguel O'Hara would do that.' What do you think?"
"I'll make sure to make your life a living fucking hell, you disgusting piece of shit!" His tone was deep and dark and your mom thought she was speaking with the devil.
"Me? Disgusting? At least I didn't masturbate at the thought of a young girl. So let's weigh our options." She looked around at the big fancy house that she used to call home. "You go back to provide for me and I'll let you and that thing I call a daughter to continue dating or whatever the relationship is. Or! I'll tell people about this and ruin your reputation. I mean who would the people believe. Two poor women crying for help or a rich man who got exposed for being a perverted old man."
"So that's what this is all about. Money. What? Did your boyfriend finally realize what a whore you are and left your ass!?" He exclaimed. "You can tell people whatever you want. (Y/N) will never take your side. You heard her! You are not her mother. All the things you had done to her, you really think she will defend on your honor. The only thing she'll do is expose your ass on how much of a terrible mother you are. Uh? Let's see. let's weigh our options." He said mimicking her. " You get the fuck out of my house and never show your face here again. Or we'll expose how you neglected your own daughter for your own benefits and you let other men emotionally abuse her and how you left her alone here with me. I'll tell me people that I gave her a place to live because her own mother was too selfish that she didn't care she was going to make her own daughter homeless."
"She'll listen to me. She'll do what I say. She always does. Deep down, she wants what's best for her mother. What? You think that wasn't the only time she had said that. Please, she throws those tantrums all the time, and in the end, she will always be by my side." She tilted her head," So." She looked at him from top to bottom. "I'll take a check every two weeks. Maybe around 5,000 dollars. Obviously, I'll ask for more later on. That's all I'm asking. Or else, I'll take her away from you."
She turned around with a smile on her face. "Tell (Y/N) I said goodbye."
Miguel couldn't even hear what had been said. Everything was turned into an echo. The fact that she can take you away. Everything Miguel wanted was going to be taken away from him. He felt his blood boil with anger. He felt the hatred increase towards her and he didn't hesitate to grab a mimick mini statue of David sitting on one of the tables. With one swing, he smacked the statue on her head. It caused her to fall down on the floor. Miguel looked at the statue and saw blood on the corner from the base. He looked over on the floor and saw her lifeless body. A pool of blood formed around her corpse. Miguel tapped her with his foot to see if she was still alive, but there was no movement. He didn't freak out. He didn't panic. He smiled. He smiled that she was finally gone.
You waited for Miguel to come in and tell you what had happened. What did she want?
It felt like ages waiting for him.
At last, he finally entered the room. He looked a bit rough. His shirt was half unbuttoned and dirt spots showed on his white shirt. "What happened? What did she want? Why are you dirty?" You questioned. You had so many questions.
"She just wanted some money, I gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to never come here again. She was a bit angry but accepted the fact that she couldn't do anything." He explained, taking off his shoes.
"What happened to your shirt and pants?" You pointed it out.
"Well, she stormed off and crushed a couple of the roses out front. I went out and replaced them. That's why I took too long." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
"She's not coming back?" You asked.
"No. I told her that if she showed her face here again, I'd call the police. I guess that got her scared. It's most likely she's leaving the country or something. She told me she found a new man, so we won't be seeing her." He looked at you and saw how you were tearing up. "Mi Amor? Que tienes?" He got on the bed and crawled to you. He wiped away a tear falling down from the corner of your eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's stupid." You couldn't help but let a low sob escape your lips.
"It's not stupid if you're crying. Tell me. I can help you." He said in a concerned tone.
"It's...it's just that...she's my mom. She's my mom and she never cared about me. She never did. Why didn't she love me? What did I do wrong?" You cried to him.
Miguel went over and pulled you into a hug. You sobbed on his chest. He caressed your hair and arms. "Ya mi vida. Forget about her okay. She doesn't deserve your tears. Hey, it's her loss okay. She was never grateful to have a beautiful and kind daughter like you. Any other mother would be happy to have you as a daughter."
"Really?" You looked at him with your glossy eyes.
"Of course, mi vida." He wiped the last tears on your face. "I'm grateful to have you in my arms. You might've not received love from her, but I'll give you all the love and care you deserve. I'll never leave you. I'll love you till the day we die."
You spent the night sleeping in his arms.
Miguel couldn't help but smile at the sight he was seeing. You are finally his. His and forever.
It might've taken a while and a few hardships, but his goal was finally accomplished.
He saved you from a heartache.
He is a hero we all deserve and need.
(That's all. Not sure if I want to continue this story, soooo maybe oneshot?)
#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#yandere miguel o'hara#yandere miguel x reader#yandere miguel ohara#miguel x you#miguel ohara#miguel atsv#astv miguel#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fanfiction
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Come Back to Me, It’s Almost Easy
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Memories from his past come back to haunt him. Reminding him of how much he’s failed.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Almost Easy” by Avenged Sevenfold. I’m in the mood for some heavy angst. Requests are open!!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 870
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, heavy angst, major character death, sleep deprivation, death, blood, light violence…
“You have a choice between saving one person or saving every world.”
Miguel knew it all too well. He’s gone through it just like every other Spider-Man, so it’s nothing new. He should’ve expected it coming which is why he never really reacted or mourned his losses.
He knows what’s coming, which means he shouldn’t have felt this awful about himself. It was almost easy for him to move on from everyone else, but the loss of the most important people broke him.
He can easily tell other Spider-Mans that it’s part of the job, so get up and continue doing what you’re doing. But when he’s asked to do it, he can’t help but cry out loud, the feeling of going crazy by asking him to forget everything. He can’t do that.
But the way he held you in his arms, the way your fingers weakly grazed his face… He won’t forget the way he begged you to stay with him, and how shameful he felt when he realized that no matter how different he chose to do things, it was always going to be the same.
“You’ve been awake for almost 48 hours, Miguel.” Peter B. told him, Mayday in his arms as he watched Miguel struggle to stay awake, “Maybe you should take a break?”
“M’fine.” Miguel nearly pulled at his hair, huffing heavily as he stared into the screen, “Everything is fine.”
“I asked if you were fine, not everyone else.”
“And I said that I am fine.” Miguel growled at Peter B. “And besides, don’t you have better things to do than bother me?”
“I’m just worried about you, Miguel.” Peter B. stepped closer but remained a good distance just in case, “Everyone else is worried, even Miles. We’re here for you.”
“And I said…” Miguel slammed his hands on his desk, “Leave me be!” Snapping at Peter B. without even looking at him, “I don’t need you breathing on my back.”
“Okay, okay.” Peter B. mumbled, hurrying off before Mayday could begin to cry.
But Miguel didn’t react, he remained hunched over at his desk. Watching as multiple screens popped up and then closed by Lyla. His eyes had started to burn, and he began to slump over his desk and maybe, fall asleep.
But the second he felt fingers running through his hair, it caused him to abruptly stand up. He scanned every inch of the room… But he was all alone.
“Miguel?” He flinched, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He then huffed after a minute, learning that it was Lyla who just spoke to him.
“Just perfect.” He heavily sighed, “Everything is perfect. Not like I’ve lost an entire family in an instant. So yeah, I think I’m doing good.”
He hears Lyla sigh, “Get some sleep.” She said but sounded like a demand, “I won’t say it again.”
He thought about the scenario over again, what mistakes he made and how easily the warning signs showed from the start. If he had never let his guard down, his family would still be alive.
Miguel sighed once more. He had to apologize to Peter B. and fast, it wasn’t his fault, he was just worried about him.
“Now do you believe me?” You softly spoke as you watched Miguel cradle his daughter in his arms, “See? You aren’t hurting her.”
“I guess I should believe you more often.” Miguel softly spoke as she began to sleep in his arms, “Thank you, (Y/n).”
“For what?”
“For giving me a chance.”
“Anything for you, Miguel. You deserve the world.”
He shouldn’t have. He never should have believed that it was all true. Pushing away his mindset and letting him fall into the beautiful feeling of love. If he didn’t, then you’d be continuing your life that didn’t involve him.
“Stay with me, (Y/n)!” Miguel cried, his tears streaming down his face, “The ambulance is almost here! Just hold on a bit longer!” But the ambulance isn’t in his sight. So, carefully, he began to stand, still holding onto you.
“Don’t.” You cough, “I need you to promise me, Miguel.” He feels your hand come up to his face, weakly trying to wipe away the tears, “Take care of her Miguel…”
He drops to his knees, “Don’t say that!” You laid on the ground, his hands coming up to cup your face.
“She’ll need her father.”
“I can’t do this without you!”
“Let her know that her mother will always love her…” You cough, then cough again, and then again until he sees blood spilling from your mouth, “No matter what happens.”
“Stop! Please!” He begs you.
“And know that forever, I’ll always love you…” Your voice gets weaker by the second, your vision begins to fade, “No matter how far you go. I’ll be here.”
He remembered the sounds of the sirens. How hard it took him to force himself to put his mask on as he watched the medical technicians try to help you.
And so, Miguel stopped wishing for a lot of things. But there was always one wish… If he could go back in time to fix things, could he be able to have the family he wished for?
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#angst#heavy angst#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara#spider man#spider man x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spider man x y/n#spider man 2099#spiderverse#spider man across the spider verse#spiderman#spiderman x you#spiderman x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader
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five-finger discount
Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies
Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.
Words | 4.4k
Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha
MINORS DNI
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY
“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.
1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.
It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.
Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.
Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.
With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.
You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.
"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.
"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.
"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.
"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.
"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!
Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.
The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.
“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”
Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”
There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.
“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.
“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”
INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY
The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.
"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.
"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"
"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.
"The other tape."
Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.
"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."
"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.
"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.
“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”
Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.
“Open your purse.”
You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
"That's mine."
"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.
"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.
"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.
"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”
“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”
“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.
“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.
“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”
“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.
“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.
“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”
Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.
“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”
“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.
“Ah, so you are hiding something.”
He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.
“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”
Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.
You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.
“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”
“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.
Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!
“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”
“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.
His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.
“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”
Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.
“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”
The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.
“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.
“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”
Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.
You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“
Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.
“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.
The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.
“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”
His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.
“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”
You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.
“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.
“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”
That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.
“On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.
“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.
“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”
You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.
Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.
Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.
Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.
“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”
The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.
INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY
As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.
Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.
“I think that was our best one yet.”
FIN.
tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines
#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis x you#neil lewis smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#watching the detectives#.moth writes
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PLS PLS PLS I NEED MORE PROXY THINGS I KEEP REREADING THE OLD ONES AND U WRITE SO WELL
Sure thing!I noticed a lot of people are rereading the old ones so I promise I will come back with more ideas!
Female!Proxy toughts Headcanons for every creep of the mansion
Warnings: foul language, suggestive themes, violence
Masky thinks he should've been in your place.He wants your attention but at the same time hates your guts.Always wants to pick a fight with you,maybe he's in such a contradiction with himself because your personality softened his sharp edges making him confused.
Hoodie acts all buddy-buddy with you when the two of you aren't on duty.He doesn't hide the way the tension rises from other people's perspective when he talks to you.He's simply curious about who you truly are,an individual like you in such a fucked up place and in such a high position is..intriguing to say at least.
Toby follows your orders and values your presence the most out of the other proxies he's biased. Because he's been taken advantage of many times,your humanity sparked his hope,he thinks that in you he can actually find something heart warming in this hell hole.
Cody is a little annoying at times.Since you didn't shove him off he deeply thinks you're into him,that's why he keeps on inviting you to see the dangerous shit he's creating.
Kate uses every chance she has to imply that you have sexual relationships with the proxies.She's isn't jealous nor wants to take your place,she simply sees herself as slightly superior since she's been here before you.
Jeff has personal issues with every resident near him,including you.He doesn't think of himself as highly as Masky tough.All the mocking and tantrums are because he doesn't belive your good intentions.
Ben is a fucking menace and fucks with your head since he knows you can't physically hurt him.He thinks you're by far the most interesting creep to watch.
EJ respects you.He thinks that you are disgusted by him almost as he is of himself given your role as a demon hunter.His insecurity made him give up any reason to try to talk to you.Watching from afar he knows you're one of the few residents that are still human by heart.
Liu has a very high opinion about yourself.You already proved to be a good person to him when you took EJ's side in an argument with Masky.He would make conversation with you whenever you two are around.
Sully might act like Liu around you so that he can see more of you.Just like other creeps,he fantasies about having a hand to hand spare with you.He talks to you like you're a pice of meat sometimes but he acknowledges your strength.
Slenderman's presence is being known by his general sickness to the other creeps but the fever is high and tormenting when it comes to you.It's clear that he favors you and the fact that he chose you as his watchdog is enough to bring your confidence skyrocket.
Jane watches you from afar.She thinks you're a good fit to be a leader.Surprisingly,she agreed with your every decision and never had anything to add or to take.
Zero is jealous of you and your high status.She despises your guts and would team up with anyone to put you down or to shame you.She's a bitch but I bet she would fuck you tough.She's the "do I want to be her or be with her?"
Clockwork likes how a woman is top shit and she treats you as an equal.Might ask you for your opinion and expects you to listen to hers as well.She thinks you're a good leader.
Nina adores you.You genuinely had a good impact on her mental health and looks up to you.She would be shocked if you would hurt her in any way,after everything she went trough all she needs is a friend.The choice is yours.
Sally thinks that you are really cool and wishes you would take that mask off more often.Since you don't brush her off like the others she's looking forward to talk to you when you're not busy.Confidently slips tea parties invites down your door.
Bloody Painter is mostly indifferent to the power dynamics in the mansion.Sure,he will be respectful to you since that's in his personality but he's apathetic to anything that isn't "aesthetically pleasing".He judges a book by its cover and the ghoul-like design on your mask makes him believe you're no different from the creatures you encounter in the forest.Misunderstanding at its best
#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta#y/n#headcanons#brian thomas x reader#masky x reader#creepypasta scenarios#brian x reader#hoodie x reader#ticci toby x reader#creepypasta toby x reader#nina x reader#nina the killer x reader#cody x virus#cody x reader#jane the killer headcanons#jane creepypasta#clockwork headcanons#creepypasta clockwork#jeff the killer headcanons#liu headcanons#homicidal liu#ben drowned#eyeless jack headcanons#eyeless jack creepypasta#slenderman x reader#kate the chaser#sully creepypasta#bloody painter
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Clearly you’ve got a lot of opinions abt the characterisations of the batfam in fandom /pos
Can you elaborate on your interpretation for all of them? /gen
it’s called caring too much — and it’s incurable! wrt my personal interpretation, that's a long and complicated answer, so ill just focus on the internal character of the waynes (specifically bruce and his five canonical kids).
bruce wayne is a control freak, we know this. his parents were killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he has literally never ever been able to truly process it. the degree to which he is controlling - firing robins, survelling his allies without their consent, compiling personal information from others, disregarding others feelings in favour of his own - is all about trying to achieve the best possible outcome. everything he does is justified, because if he's in control then he can stop bad things from happening. it is all in favour of the greater good. it's the logic of an eight year old who's just lost everything and hasn't grown up.
if bruce's trauma manifests control then dick's manifests personal perfectionism. he holds himself to such an absurd standard because he's a flier - when you're catching someone on the trapeze you quite literally have to be there, always, ready to take their hand. if you don't, they fall. if there's no net, if dick isn't the net, then they die. he’s always swinging back out and in again, waiting for the next person to slip through his fingers. he does not fear falling, only what will happen when he hits the ground. he’s a born performer made to be an atlas, carrying an unbearable weight that anchors him to the earth.
jason after death is a tragedy of his own creation, and dc's worst crime is trying to justify the terrible decisions he makes. jason isn’t right, because what he wants is not about protecting other kids from his fate or being a better batman. he wants to be personally vindicated, even though he knows it's impossible. jason rejected himself, bruce, everything, in order to transform into a weapon to enact violence. deep down he's so angry, so hurt, that he'll go after other children - tim, damian, mia - and still decry bruce in the same breath. killing the joker, killing bruce, killing dick, killing every robin before or since won't take him back to who he was before. you cannot go back. you can never go back.
cass sees everything. she can't unsee it, she can't ignore it, nothing in the body can be truly hidden from her, but like bruce that doesn't mean she's always right. she killed a man and witnessed his death, and thus will never take another life. she is all knowing, but she was not born knowing herself. she's jason in reverse — she turns from steel to flesh and bone. she will do whatever it takes to be good. she has made herself real.
tim chose this life in the most literal sense of the word, and then kept choosing it. it’s his duty, it’s his honour, it has hollowed him out and left nothing behind. his tethers to the world snap one by one — janet and jack and darla and dana and steph and kon — and suddenly it’s much harder to extricate himself from the black. robin, dick grayson, is his guiding north star, but his north star is only human. he knows he is capable, he knows this is his choice, and he knows he has long since lost the chance to unchoose.
damian is raised in the shadow of the bat. he is born of blood. he knew death before he knew his father. he is a child. he is ancient. he is a killer. he only wants to do good. he loves his mother. his father is gone before he learns to love damian. damian loves someone else who wears the bat but does not carry wayne name. everything he knows about himself is questioned — robin is given to him, and suddenly he can decide his own fate, make his own family. he wants to be the best, but he doesn’t know what he wants that to mean anymore. he wants the chance to find out.
#sorry this got long! not sure if i actually answered ur question lol#batfam#dick grayson#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#cassandra cain#damian wayne#nightwing#batgirl#batman#dc comics#the ask and the answer#dc meta#ig?
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Parley? (opla!zoro x you)
summary: a stranger arrives to disturb your peace and you have no choice but to negotiate with him.
wc: 2.57k
cw/tags: first meeting, swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence including blood and swords, zoro doesn't know how to express his feelings
note: i'm so nervous posting this ngl because i really like zoro as a character but i'm scared that i'm not gonna do him justice since i don't know him as well as gojo or geto or bakugo etc etc etc. hopefully all yall zoro girlies like this because i've been itching to write for him since my explore page became nothing but mackenyu. enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
You hear the chimes first. The melody is soft, nearly imperceptible to the untrained ear, but you sense it. After all, you were the one who tied the string under the walkway floorboards in such a way that the bells above your window would clink if something pressed down on the wood. Over time, you learned to identify where outside was being pushed based on more strings and bells. It made it easier to find the Lady, on the rare occasion she stepped into open air and you weren’t with her. However, whoever was now setting off your makeshift alarm system had footsteps unlike the usual occupants of the house. The quietness of the notes was unsettling, in a way, because it meant they were creeping around the house. Someone didn’t want to be heard.
It was the flowers next, the roses with uniquely reflective petals that were especially good at bouncing moonlight precisely through your window. The Lady commented one day in the market that she’d taken a liking to that particular flower, and you bought the vendor’s entire stock to plant around the house once you realized how it could be used. Not before you built a crow’s nest-like window, first. The glass structure jut out of the house in just the right way that you received colors from the left, right, and front of the house. Had an intruder approached from the back, your only blindspot, you would hear the more insistent clicks of the typewriter keys attached to the outside deck panels. The nearly noiseless bells and the ominous shadow sneaking across your wall were enough to snap you wide awake.
The soles of your feet meet cool stone as you slide from under the covers, wrapping the sheath of your saber around your waist and slipping out of your bedroom. Despite the darkness of the hallway, your legs move by memory to the Lady’s chambers only to find the door already ajar.
Shit. Were you too late?
Slinking into the room in one graceful stride, words leave your mouth without thinking when you see him standing over your Lady, holding two deadly-looking swords.
“Taking a life halfway gone is immoral no matter the bounty, pirate hunter.” His head snaps in your direction and you have your blade on him before he can blink, resting the point lightly but threateningly against his throat. His eyes narrow on you challengingly and you put ever so slightly more pressure into your hilt, forcing him to surrender and sheath both swords. The third, you note, remains undrawn on his hip. “No better targets to pursue than a retiree? I expected better from the demon of the East Blue.” His gaze remains unchanging while you step forward, inching him backward until his head hits the wall with a soft thud. You were thankful, for once, that the Lady was starting to lose her hearing and was always a deep sleeper.
“She’s wanted,” he says in a low tone.
“She’s withered,” you retort. “Killing her advances justice no more than leaving her alive.” His face is still unreadable, void of any emotions just as the rumors conveyed. Many tales circulated of the infamous pirate hunter, but you chose to believe the Lady to be far too irrelevant to pose any real threat to the Marines. As one of the last known powerhouses of the Gold Roger era, it was more likely her wanted poster would be drowned out amongst younger hotshot pirates than for her to become an actual target. And yet, here was the most feared bounty hunter in the seas, hunting down a myth that many assumed was already six feet under. And for what, fun?
“It doesn’t matter. Honor is a courtesy denied to killers.” He speaks in a way like you wouldn’t understand his ideas, and it sends a white-hot flash of anger racing through your veins.
“Ooh, yes. You’re being so honorable by julienning a defenseless old woman while she sleeps.” To your surprise, he flinches, unwillingly bringing your eyes to corded muscle and flexed biceps. It’s a bit of a struggle to refocus on the task at hand. “Enlighten me on how this makes you feel vindicated.”
“I kill pirates for a living,” he states simply, nodding over to the slumbering mass under the thick comforter. The tip of your sword follows every movement he makes, careful not to give him an opening to strike. Unexpectedly, he seems almost relaxed, like the weapon at his throat was the least of his worries. “That woman is a pirate.”
“That woman was a pirate. She is no longer the ‘Captain Indigo’ you seek.”
“Who is she now, then?”
“Lady Lavender, adored by her constituents and far removed from a life of piracy. If I weren’t on the verge of spilling your organs on the carpet, I’d say visit the farmer’s market on Tuesdays. You’ll see just how different her life is now.” His chin tilts in disagreement.
“The Marines say otherwise.”
“What do you say?” A minute tilt of your wrist angles your saber so that the point now resides under his sharply defined jawline. “Hmm, hunter? Any opinions in that thick skull of yours or are you just another mindless government weapon?”
“You understand nothing,” he mutters like an indignant teenager, looking off to the side woefully. It makes your blood boil.
“Try me,” you snarl at the green-haired stranger. In another life, you’d have thought him pretty handsome, if you weren’t so infuriated by his indifferent sense of justice. He knew nothing about you, or the Lady, or what either of you had to endure to create a sense of safety. Safety, you would add, that you weren’t going to give up easily.
“This woman you serve, what are you to her? A caretaker? A child?”
“A friend,” you answer cautiously. “Something your line of work would know nothing about.”
“The Marines know that your friend murdered the former governor and seized the island in an act of desperation,” he informs you with a note of condescension. “They’ve wanted her gone for ten years, and I am here to collect her head. It’s not personal; it’s business.” The incorrectness of his information is laughable, but what concerns you more is the ease with which he talks of taking lives.
“You don’t feel any sort of remorse for the targets you kill?” The anger in your stomach starts to rub against a different, unwanted influx of sorrow. After witnessing the change in a ruthless pirate empress, you refused to believe a human could be this heartless.
“I don’t dwell on them long enough to care. Most of the time, they do something stupid that makes it a little easier to dispose of them.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong about her,” you recover, pressing the blade against his skin on the brink of drawing blood. He winces, squirming against the wallpaper for some sort of relief. You don’t budge. “The former mayor was a half-brother whom she reconnected with after Gold Roger’s execution. His death was caused by a misdosage of medicine used to treat hemorrhoids he’d suffered with since he was twenty. On his deathbed, he made her promise to take care of this city...” You inhale, focusing on the man in front of you. His expression is soft, nothing like you would have expected from a feared killer-for-hire. He was actually listening to you.
“Go on.”
“And to take care of me. I have the great pirate hunter at the end of my blade, so she must not have done that bad of a job at either request.” He’s silent for a moment and you watch the cogs turn in his brain, hoping he’d find some humanity and realize that killing the Lady isn’t just pointless, it’s fundamentally wrong.
“It doesn’t change the fact that I need money.” Nevermind, then. Backup plan it is.
“I understand that,” you concede, and you remove your weapon from his neck. His hands are on the hilts of his swords instantly, but he doesn’t draw them. He could kill both you and the Lady in a single swing, but he doesn’t. Maybe you did reach a different side of him. “That's why I’m willing to cut you a deal.”
“I don’t make deals with pirat–” he starts, but abruptly cuts himself off when you raise your eyebrows in expectation. Did you not learn anything from what I just told you? His face contorts in confusion, as if his mind was at odds with what his body was telling him to do. After carefully schooling his expression into blankness, he stands to his full height, rolling a broad shoulder. “What’s the deal?”
“You’re aware of the Blue Ringed crew, yes?”
“Famous for their poisons, I’ve heard,” he confirms and you nod. “They cover every inch of their ship in toxins and wear special clothing to prevent contact with their skin. Makes it hard to sneak up on them.”
“Exactly. See, you’re not as uneducated as you look,” you tease and you feel your face heat when he sticks his tongue out at you. It’s so boyish and immature, in stark contrast to the handsome, god-bodied man that faces you. “I happen to have a counteragent, enough for you to get on their ship and collect three times the amount if you killed us tonight.”
“And what would you get in return?”
“The sound of your boots walking off the property and never returning,” you whisper a little desperately, pleading with him to leave your perfect peace intact and forget this altercation ever happened. The quiet in the room as he ponders your offer is suffocating save for the gentle snores of Lady Lavender. Eventually, he takes your deal, inspecting the powder-filled vial when you bring it to him on the front porch.
“How do I use it if it’s powder?”
“Mix it with lotion to help soak it faster into your skin. When your skin is dry, you’ll have roughly an hour to navigate the boat completely immune to the poison. It’s sweat resistant but will wash off with seawater, so take care not to get thrown overboard,” you instruct him, crossing your arms across your chest against the chilly ocean air blowing in from the south. It was breezier than normal and you regret not grabbing a sweater. Unless you wanted to freeze your ass off, you needed to finish this debacle quickly. “Kill the pirates, get your bounty, and leave us the hell alone. Deal?”
“Fine by me.” He carefully places the vial in the pocket of his pants and begins his descent down the front walkway. Before you can turn back into the house, however, his voice reaches your ears so lightly you think you’d hallucinated it. “Stay warm.”
He doesn’t end up keeping his side of the deal. A few days after your initial altercation, he approaches the house again in broad daylight holding a box about the size of your hand. You stare at him in disbelief, reading in the nook of your window and he has the audacity to smirk at you when he spots you looking.
“I thought we had a deal, pirate hunter,” you remind him when you open the front door of the house. It was infuriating how good he looked for having just returned from a pursuit, dressed up in fine fabrics with his hair combed back nicely. The irony was palpable, the situation not unlike the stories the Lady told you about the numerous men who attempted to court her. They appeared at the same front door with flowers, rubies, and promises of devotion, but none of them actually wanted her heart. In contrast, you wanted to stab the heart of the idiot in front of you.
“Stop calling me that,” he frowns and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your mouth. “My name is Roronoa Zoro–”
“Oh, sorry,” you interject and his eyebrows furrow at your lack of manners. “Am I just supposed to act like you’re my friend now? After you tried to kill my boss?”
“I thought we were past that,” he states bluntly.
“That was four days ago.”
“It’s enough time to move on.”
“You’re impossible.” You shake your head in disbelief, slightly puzzled at the giddy feeling in your chest when the faintest smile appears on his face. “What’s that?” You gesture to the rosewood box in his fingers.
“Consider it an apology,” he says, holding out the box for you to take, “for bothering you the other night.”
“How chivalrous.” You eye the box warily, still unsure about the enigmatic bounty hunter before you. “But we don’t need nor want your money.”
“It’s not money. Just open the damn box,” he grunts impatiently and you begrudgingly oblige, sliding back the top panel to reveal a bracelet. It wasn’t like any other bracelet you’d seen before, a gold chain garnished with a single deep green emerald barely the size of your pinky fingernail. It was delicate and elegant, subtle enough not to draw attention but luxurious enough to make you feel spoiled. “Do you like it?”
“I do, actually. The color is pretty,” you reply slowly, still slightly in shock. “Why green?”
“Take a wild guess.” He smirks again and your gaze flicks up to his hair. It was just as vibrant as the gemstone and he watched you carefully as the pieces clicked into place. With the bracelet, you’d be forced to think of him every time you looked at it or anything the color green. What kind of guy buys a momento for almost killing you, you had no idea.
“You didn’t need to bring me this. I thought the deal was–”
“I remember what the deal was, but I felt bad making you stand outside shivering while you explained how the counteragent functioned.” Your eyes widen slightly at his admission. He noticed you reacting to the wind, so how intensely was he watching you that night? If he sees your surprise, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to explain why he brought you the gift in the first place. “The powder worked, by the way. I snagged this from the captain’s chambers on my way out.”
“You stole this because you saw me get cold?” He merely shrugs, clearly unbothered.
“I mean, yeah. You looked miserable.”
“I was miserable.” He smiles slightly again, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement. It makes your heart stutter against your wishes. “Does this mean we’re even now, pirate hunter?”
“Call me Zoro and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“You’ll consider it?”
“Holding a sword to someone’s throat is a major transgression that can’t be forgiven so easily,” he taunts and you roll your eyes. “Let me start over, meet you properly without the involvement of weapons.”
“You really want to see me again?” He scoffs at your question as if the answer wasn't crystal clear.
“What, bringing you a bracelet wasn’t obvious enough? I’ll have to bring the entire ship next time. Might take a little longer to get back to you.”
“Get off my porch, Roronoa Zoro,” you laugh, reaching out to push his shoulder away and feeling every inch of his skin against your fingers in the brief moment your bodies touch. “Don’t come back unless you have something important to say.”
“I think you’ll soon find out what I prioritize as important.”
#zoro x you#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#opla x reader#opla x you#opla x y/n#opla!zoro x you#opla!zoro x reader
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i miss you, i’m sorry - matthew tkachuk
matthew tkachuk x fem!reader
summary: you go with your bf to a hockey game; he is unaware of your history with one of the players (please read warnings!)
warnings: abusive bf, violence, strong and derogatory language, angst, a few uses of y/n
word count: 3k
you felt like you hadn’t been able to breathe properly in hours, sitting rigid like a stone next to mike, who’s mood has only deteriorated as the night went on. mike was a diehard coyotes fan, and had brought you to the game with him last minute when his friend had cancelled last minute.
“are you sure none of your other friends would want to go? they would probably have more fun than i would,” you had offered, desperately trying to get out of going.
“they’re all busy,” he replied. “i know you hate hockey, but can you try to have a good time, for me?” he asked sweetly, pulling you into his arms. you weren’t fooled by his tone; you would go and you would enjoy it, you didn’t have a choice.
“okay,” you smiled, and he kissed you softly before going to your shared room to get ready. you sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to make it through this game. you didn’t hate hockey - you used to love it actually, but when you started dating mike you chose to keep that part of your life a secret. it seemed silly at face value, but there was a bigger secret you were hiding from him, and you asked the universe why it had to be the panthers that arizona was playing tonight.
a little less than two years ago, you had dated their star player, matthew tkachuk for almost a year, before the travel and hectic schedule got to be too much for you, and you decided to leave; the hardest thing you had ever done. the relationship had been kept pretty quiet thankfully, no traces of it online except for one or two group photos from when you were together still floating around instagram; though you had done all you could to erase any evidence.
if mike found out, you honestly weren’t sure how he would react; but you knew it wouldn’t be good. you had met mike a few months after you and matthew broke up, and he was nice enough, until he wasn’t. he kept up the good guy just long enough for you to move in and become dependant on him, and suddenly you found yourself trapped. things were okay most of the time, but if he got angry, sometimes you got caught in the crossfire. he had only actually hit you once, but he yelled, and would sometimes grab you too hard, leaving you with bruises to cover before he could see them; he had the audacity to say that they made him upset.
he had been in a good mood when you got to the arena, and you were thankful that your seats weren’t too close to the ice, though you shuddered at the possibility of matthew seeing you in the crowd, despite how slim the chance was. you hadn’t seen him since they day you broke up, and as the familiar head of curly hair came out from the tunnel, skating on to the ice as part of the starting line up, your heart felt like it was being twisted in a vice.
you missed him. you missed your friends on the team, having grown pretty close to some of the guys, as well as their girlfriends. you hadn’t heard from any of them since leaving; it was too hard at first, and then it became a safety concern. any connection to your former life meant more risk of mike finding out about matthew, and that couldn’t happen.
“can you at least look like you want to be here?” mike whispered in your ear, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. you put on a smile, and thankfully it was good enough, as he turned his attention back to the players on the ice.
the game started off a bit slow, however the panthers had a 1-0 lead at the end of the first, and through the second as well. the coyotes were playing pretty rough, getting quite a few penalties for some dirty hits, all while mike cheered them on, booing the refs anytime they called a penalty on arizona. you watched as one of floridas players, nick cousins, ran into one of the coyotes while he was low on the boards, the hit landing on his shoulders or maybe his head, you couldn’t really tell. another coyote skated up and checked nick face first into the boards; hard. he hadn’t been looking that way and had no warning to protect himself, and you watched in distress as he crumbled to the ice, and you were worried he was unconscious.
nick had been one of your closest friends while you were dating matt, and your heart pounded as you watched him struggle to his feet.
“that pussy folded like a piece of paper!” mike laughed, enjoying every second of him getting hit. floridas players jumped on the guy who had laid the hit on nick, defending their fallen teammate as a fight broke out, sending players from each team into the penalty box. mikes mood dropped with each second of the refs deliberating passed, the officials eventually awarding nearly 20 penalty minutes to forsling for florida, as well as enough penalty minutes to arizona to give the panthers a man advantage.
“that’s fucking bullshit!” he screamed, the crowd of arizona fans not happy about the decision either. you said nothing as mike spilled some of his fourth beer on your lap, just thankful it hadn’t got on his spare coyotes jersey that he had insisted you wear. as the players got ready to continue the game, you looked across the ice, locking eyes with the one person you hoped you could avoid more than anything. something flashed in his eyes as he saw you, but his attention was quickly back to the game as the whistle blew, and soon the second period was over and he was gone down the tunnel for intermission.
the coyotes scored in the third to tie the game, but the panthers got the lead back, scoring twice in close succession. matthew looked to you after putting the puck in the net, and it took everything in you to ignore him. mike was livid at this point, the alcohol not helping in the slightest, and you cringed internally as he grabbed your hand, holding it way too tight.
forsling finally came out of the penalty box after serving 17 minutes, and immediately scored an empty netter, solidifying a 4-1 victory for florida. with 2 minutes left in the game, mike dragged you out to the concession area. matthews eyes noticed your empty seats, and his heart dropped, wondering if he had imagined you even being there in the first place.
downstairs, mike pushed you against the brick wall next to the restroom.
“wait here. i gotta piss before we leave,” looking at the long lineup already formed outside the men’s room. the arena was small, and there were limited washrooms, so you had a feeling this was gonna take a while, but you dared not move from your spot against the wall.
you could hear the final buzzer go, and the florida players began walking out from ice level, and you realized that they had to walk through the main area to get to the visitors locker room, and your blood ran cold. most of the panthers paid no mind to you, but you held your breath as you saw matthew approaching, praying that he ignored you like the others had.
he thankfully didn’t say anything, but your eyes locked for the second time that night as he passed by, disappearing down the hall and into the locker room. your foot tapped anxiously on the floor, grinding a small piece of gravel under your shoe as you willed mike to hurry the fuck up.
10 minutes went by, and you exhaled in relief as he finally appeared, not even caring about the death grip he took on your wrist as he literally dragged you behind him towards the exit.
“y/n?” a familiar voice called, and you hoped with all you had that mike would ignore it and keep walking. “wait- y/n.” mike stopped, causing you to bump into his back with how fast you were following behind him. he turned around, and you were sure he was quite confused as to why matthew tkachuk was calling after you.
“what the hell do you want?” mike asked, looking matt up and down before turning to you, still holding you tight. “do you know this asshole?”
“no, let’s go home,” you pleaded, but he wasn’t budging.
“you got the wrong girl.” mike shrugged. “shouldn’t you be circle jerking with the other guys in the locker room right now?” he spat, still bitter about his team losing the game.
“i told them to start without me,” matthew joked dryly, and you could feel his eyes on you, however yours were glued to the floor.
“funny,” mike replied. “let’s go,” he pushed you in front of him to leave.
“wait, y/n - please.”
“i’m sorry, you have the wrong person.”
“yeah, chucky,” mike laughed. “you must be thinking of some other whore. i’m sure there’s a lot of desperate chicks around here that would suck your cock though, so stop talking to mine.”
“you really shouldn’t talk about women like that,” matthew threatened, and while his tone sounded calm, you knew he was furious.
“or what? what, you want to fight or something?” mike asked. you noticed a few people gathering to watch, either out of concern or just to see matthew, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“baby, can we please just-“
“shut up!” he shoved you and you fell to the floor, landing hard on your ass, before punching matthew in the face. matthew swung a fist at mikes face, hitting him square in the jaw. your eyes widened in horror as mike swung more drunken punches back at matt, and people backed away from the fight. you looked down the hall to see a familiar face, and you called out to your former friend.
“carter!” his eyes snapped up from his phone and he took out an airpod before he noticed the fight, and he quickly pulled matthew off of mike with the help of security guards that had come to help break up the situation. you stared at the ground in front of you again, feeling like the room was spinning and wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you. security handcuffed mike and escorted him out of the building, while carter and another security officer took matthew back down the hall towards the locker room.
an officer asked you to come with him, and he took you to an empty office room to take a statement about what happened. you just hoped matthew wouldn’t get in too much trouble.
•
when you left the office, there were thankfully little to no fans left in the arena, the hallways eerily empty as you walked towards the door. before you could reach it though, something - or someone - made you pause. you looked back down the hall to the locker room, and with a sigh walked towards it. you knocked on the door, your heart hammering against your ribcage as it opened, one of the team staff looking at you.
“i’m sorry, you can’t be back here-“
“it’s fine. she’s a friend,” carter interrupted her, opening the door to let you in. the room was empty, the team having already left, and you forced yourself to look at carter.
“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded.
“thank you. i’m sorry-“
“don’t, it’s not your fault.” he opened his arms and you fell into them, hugging him tightly. “chuckys just getting patched up in the medic room. mostly procedure that they have to check him after a fight - usually it only happens during a game though,” he joked, and you found yourself smiling for real for the first time that night.
“is he in a lot of trouble?”
“no more than he normally gets himself into. it’ll be fine, y/n,” he assured you, but you were still worried there might be some legal repercussions. deciding there was nothing you could do about that right now, you managed to push the thought away and sat down on a bench in the locker room.
“you waiting around for him?” verhaeghe asked, and you nodded, eyes on the floor again.
“yeah. i think i’d be a shitty person not to.”
“you could never be a shitty person,” he smiled. “we miss you. chucky especially.” you looked up at him sadly.
“i miss you guys too.”
the medic door opened with a creak, and matthew walked out. you kept your eyes on your feet, counting the laces on your shoes over and over again.
“i’ll see you later,” carter said goodbye to both of you before leaving the room. you didn’t dare look up as matthew walked over slowly and sat down next to you, leaving space between you as his gaze lingered on you.
“you waited,” he said softly.
“yeah…. i don’t think i should have, but i wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“you wanted to make sure i was okay?” he laughed softly. “yeah, i’m okay.” he said, and an awkward silence filled the room. “was he always like that?” he asked gently, and you shook your head sadly.
“nope,” you said bitterly, eyes growing wet with tears. “he was perfect at first. until he wasn’t.”
“i’m sorry.”
“don’t be. it’s not your fault.”
“i still am. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you didn’t reply, knowing he was right. “y/n, you haven’t even looked at me.” he hand touched yours on the bench next to you, his touch so soft and gentle it was unfamiliar.
you turned your head towards him, and his heart broke at your sad expression. his lip was split open, red and forming a bruise already. you reached for his face without thinking, pulling your hand back before you went too far.
“what do you want me to say?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. with the carefulness of someone touching glass, he brushed it off your face, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.
“do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asked, somewhat ignoring your question. he didn’t want you to say anything, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.
“i can figure something out,” you said, going through the options in your head; likely a hotel or sleeping in your car.
“please, i would feel a lot better if i knew you were somewhere safe. i have an extra bed in my hotel room-“
“no, matthew. i can’t do this.”
“do what?” he asked.
“this,” you gestured between the two of you. “thank you for protecting me, but i can’t let myself be near you. it’s too hard.”
“please,” his blue eyes looking in yours. the smell of his cologne wafted to your nose, filling you with a sense of safety that only he could ever bring you.
“okay,” you nodded.
•
the drive to the hotel was short and silent, but you felt at ease for the first time all night. the more time you spent with him, the more it felt like no time had passed; like things were back to how they were before. matthew held your hand the whole drive, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of it gently, his touch like a feather.
you got up to the hotel room and he grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase for you.
“you a coyotes fan now?” he teased, and you laughed. matthew hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound, but did he would do anything to hear it again and again.
“not by choice,” you laughed, pulling mikes jersey over your head, putting the t-shirt over your undershirt you had on.
“did he know about -“
“no,” you shook your head, dropping the jersey in the small garbage can, and matthew cracked a smile. “he probably wouldn’t have liked it very much.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to -“
“it’s okay. i know. how’s your lip?” you asked, still feeling guilty about it.
“it’s not my first split lip. i’ll live,” he smiled.
“is nick okay?” you asked, remembering the nasty hit during the game.
“he wasn’t feeling too hot after that. i’m not sure yet,” he admitted, and you nodded, before covering your mouth as a yawn slipped past your lips. “come on, sleepyhead, let get you to bed.”
you nodded, dragging your exhausted body into the nearest of the two queen sized beds. matthew tucked you into bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you reached for his hand before he could walk away.
“lay with me?” you asked sleepily, knowing it was selfish to use him as a safety net right now; but you felt you would fall apart without him.
“are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded. he crawled into bed next to you, letting you cling to him like a life raft. “you’re safe now. i won’t let anyone hurt you, baby, i promise.”
“i know, matty,” you snuggled into him, everything about him bringing you comfort you hadn’t felt since you left; his scent, his voice, the feeling of his arms around you. “i missed you.”
“god, i missed you to. i don’t want to let you go again.”
“please don’t,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears that fell onto the fabric of his shirt, your fingers gripping it so tight your knuckles hurt. “don’t let me go.”
“i won’t.”
you felt like you were dreaming; what had started as a nightmare turning into the first time you had felt safe in months. you were scared that you would wake up and it hadn’t been real - you would be next to mike in his apartment, the cold draft from the window on your side of the bed would prickle you skin like it always did and you would have to apologize for not having his lunch ready for work.
but instead you would wake up in the arms of someone who actually cared about you, the sun peeking through the cracks of the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin. along with it, matthew brought a light to your life that had been missing for so long, you thought it was lost for good.
matthew pressed another soft kiss to your forehead as you felt yourself falling asleep, knowing you were protected as long as he was next to you.
“thank you matty,” you murmured, barely awake as you nose brushed the side of his jaw, your face tucked into the crook of his neck.
“anything for you.”
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
#nhl#nhl fic#nhl imagine#real person fiction#nhl players#matthew tkachuk x reader#matthew tkachuk fic#matthew tkachuk imagine#matty tkachuk#matthew tkachuk#tkachuk#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey player#hockey#florida#panthers#florida panthers
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And All The Fears You Hold So Dear
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Angst. Unplanned Pregnancy. Mild violence. Also there's like a smidge of nsfw talk there but thought I'd let you know beforehand just in case.
Word count: 4.3K
A/N: Part Three and Final Installment of something that started as a one-shot and somehow escalated into this¿¿
I just want to thank you for all your very kind comments and let you know that I got a couple requests that I'll be working on, so this might not be the last you see of me. Ily <3
also i cried so much writing this now you have to suffer like i did. xo
Right after the tears finally stopped coming, the emotional exhaustion translated into an intense weariness that made you collapse on the sofa. That hour spent out of consciousness was a blissful interlude in the pain that had your chest hurting and leaving you unable to breathe.
You’d once read somewhere that there was something called “phantom limb syndrome” in which people could feel pain in an amputated hand, arm, or leg.
When you woke up, you looked out at the now dark sky and thought of giving Miguel a call to tell him about what an awful day you were having until the memories came back like a harrowing tsunami that had you tearing up when you wondered for how long you’d have to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t there anymore. This time, however, you became angry. And oddly self-assured.
You didn’t need him. You’d given him a choice, and if a sad, pitiful, lonely life was what he wanted, then good riddance. His loss.
You could do this. Jessica’s pregnancy hadn’t stopped her after all. Sure, it would be challenging but there were mothers out there who took care of one or more children and balanced several jobs didn’t they?
So what if you moonlighted as a vigilante whose life was on the line every day?
What if you’d have to spend the rest of your life protecting him or her from the bunch of fairly dangerous enemies you’d made in the past months?
Or maybe you didn’t have to.
Your eyes wandered off to your suit which you’d mindlessly thrown on the floor the second you’d arrived home, scrutinizing the details and the care that you’d put into creating it. You wondered what it would look like inside a box, hidden in the back of the closet for years, or until your kid stumbled upon it and asked about mommy’s dutifully hidden past.
An obnoxious beeping sound coming from between the cushions snapped you out of your fantasy as you fished your watch. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken it with you and now it was issuing a warning concerning an anomaly with an amazing timing that had decided to pop into your dimension.
Placing a hand on your stomach, you looked out of the window and doubtfully pressed your lips together.
“Shit. Please, let it be a Vulture that’s literally a vulture, please,” you pleaded with whatever deity chose to listen to you as you picked up your suit and rushed to the bathroom, mindlessly throwing the test into the trash can before pulling the mask over your head.
Unfortunately, you didn’t arrive at the location to find a confused scavenging bird flapping around. You weren’t even sure of what you’d been sent to capture. At the scene, several police cars had formed a barricade outside of an empty warehouse and seemed to be lying in wait, aiming at the door with their guns. Good. That meant you could get in there and set things straight with the unwanted visitor before anybody got hurt.
You stealthily made your way from a nearby ledge to the roof, finding your way in through a broken skylight and landing on top of a pile of metallic crates solid enough to hold your weight but making your entrance noisier than you would’ve liked.
Whatever you were looking for, it was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was in such darkness that, if it wasn’t for the night-vision lenses Miguel had fitted into your mask, you wouldn’t be able to see further than your own nose. They had come in pretty handy, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so opposed to getting them.
“(Y/N) it’s just one small modification, give me one reason not to.”
“Because you’ve already done too much!”
“Oh come on, it will take me what? Twenty minutes?”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean you’ve done too much to my suit, Miguel. First, the emergency parachute, next the spine and nape reinforcements, then you literally said ‘You know what? How about we just redo the whole thing with fireproof fabric?’ and now another modification?”
“He added memory foam insoles too, said you wouldn’t notice, I’m with you on this one” Lyla chimed in.
You pressed your lips together to fight back a satisfied smile while Miguel glared daggers at the AI assistant, who refused to back down.
“She still remembers please and thank you, alright?”
“Lyla, will you please go check if there’s a faulty connection or a leaky pipe somewhere? Thank you.”
After throwing a sickly sweet smile his way, she vanished.
“Alright then,” Miguel continued arguing, “I’m sorry for offering to install state-of-the-art, potentially lifesaving enhancements to your suit. What was I thinking, not wanting my girlfriend to die?”
He lifted his hands in defeat and retreated to the other side of the room, minimizing the digital blueprints of the new glasses.
“And for the record,” He continued, “I didn’t do all the work for your new suit, you designed it, remember? I had no idea of what a ‘basque waistline’ was,”
When he finished talking, he was surprised to hear absolutely nothing coming from your side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned to see you still leaning against the metallic table on top of which your suit rested. You were staring at him with a surprised expression that only baffled him further when he noticed the bright blush spreading around your cheeks and down to your neck. Then it dawned on him.
“Oh shit, I’ve never called you that before, have I?”
“No, you haven’t,”
Of course, that small window of vulnerability was all he needed.
“Please let me put the lenses on your suit?”
What he didn’t know was that you can see both ways through a window. When he earnestly pleaded with you to let him install the stupid attachment, his true motives were as clear as if you’d heard them straight from his mouth.
Last time I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t plan ahead. If something happens to you and I have the slightest notion that I didn’t do absolutely everything in my power to keep you safe…please. Do this for me, would you? For my own, selfish peace of mind?
And he’d been right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something dart from behind one container to the next one.
“I see you,” You announced, rolling your shoulders as your Spider-Sense began acting up, “Listen, you’re probably feeling confused right now and if you come out we could…”
You couldn’t even finish the sentence as something heavy and cold tackled you onto the ground. Instinctively, you rolled over just in time for something sharp the size of a harpoon to stab the ground next to your head strong enough to pierce the concrete. Without wasting one more second, you jumped on top of a container to take a better look at whatever the hell that was just to find that same spot completely empty. Whatever it was, it was fast. Wincing at the sharp pain in your shoulder, you reminded yourself you had to be more careful and avoid taking strong hits like that.
However, you couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. And, as if to affirm that thought as quickly as it came, your sense warned you of something coming at you from behind. Before it could take you by surprise again, you swiftly moved out of the way and shot webs twice to try and pin it down so you could at least take a good look at what you were up against.
“What in the…?” You gasped as you stared at what you’d captured. Before you, a 20-foot-long pale yellow scorpion furiously trashed about as it tried to free itself from your webs. Not even five seconds after you spotted it, the critter broke free of its restraints and disappeared behind another container. Well, reasoning and trying to bring him in peacefully wasn’t going to work with this one.
For now, you knew that it was going to try and keep attacking you, so the best you could do for now was to keep an eye on him before he could plunge that hideous stinger through your forehead. Especially since the little shit was remarkably fast.
What was that thing Miguel always told you to do?
“No, remember. You’ve got to think further, think two steps ahead,”
“You know, Miguel, repeating that a million times isn’t going to suddenly give me the ability to see ten seconds into the future,” you muttered, taking the hand he reached out to help you get up. With a wince, you placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled it until it popped.
“It’s not about seeing into the future, (Y/N), it’s about finding unprotected spots and patterns,”
“How come outside I’m love, gorgeous or mi chiquita preciosa de ojitos bonitos, but the minute we’re in here I’m back to being (Y/N),”
“First of all, that last one never happened, we agreed on it, I was in…a vulnerable…”
“You were drunk, you can say it, I won’t tell,”
He glared at you in a way you knew meant ‘won’t you?’. Hopefully, he’d never find out you’d told Peter every last detail of his drunken silliness as soon as you had the chance.
“Second of all, here you’re just like anybody else. You mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to you because that’s how the attackers are going to see you, as an obstacle to get out of the way. Now focus. I’m going to attack you again,”
While knowing beforehand he was going to come at you gave you some advantage, you managed to block the blow he launched at your head. Before he could try again, you noticed his next attempt at an attack was leaving his legs completely exposed. Then, you did what Jess had taught you to do whenever you faced somebody taller than you: go for the knees.
You crouched and, with a classic foot sweep, managed to make him lose his balance just enough for you to hook your legs on either side of his and take him down.
You were so tired you couldn’t even gloat properly, instead settling for smiling to yourself and releasing a short, triumphant, ‘ha!’ with your last breath before crawling over to him and sitting next to his lying body.
“You know, if I’m supposed to think two movements ahead,” You say, a beckoning look in your eyes, “I think it’s safe to predict you’re going tell me that there’s nothing more you can teach me, and then carry me to your quarters to do absolutely unspeakable things to me,”
Honestly, it had been stupid of you to think he would give up that easily. Not even two seconds later, it was your back that was pressed against the floor as his large frame covered you, and his hand held your wrists on top of your head. Then he leaned in, painfully slowly, until he was close enough for you to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, a low chuckle left his throat.
“Chula, you don’t know half of all the things I can teach you. But this isn’t the place for most of them. Let’s get moving.”
Thankfully, you forced your brain to focus on the matter at hand before it could replay the entire memory.
Two steps ahead (Y/N), come on.
That thing always attacked with the stinger first. Then it would probably try to immobilize you with its pincers.
Quickly tracing a plan inside your head, you started to roam the dark warehouse looking for the missing critter, your spider-sense as sharp as ever as you looked behind every crate and container only to find nothing. Maybe it had left the building without you noticing?
Outside, the police still remained alert and in wait. There was no way it could have left without being seen.
Fine. If you couldn’t find him, then he could come and find you. Making your way to the center of the empty space, you remained perfectly still and waited for your sense to tell you where the beast was coming from. The wait was short-lived as you felt a sharp wave of shivers running down your right arm, your entire body shifting to face that side just in time to shoot enough web to completely wrap the entire stinger and leave enough web for you to jump and throw over a beam, leaving the scorpion hanging upside down while aggressively pinching the air around him with its pincers. Unwilling to take any risks, you covered them as well.
You had to stand there and catch your breath for a few seconds before looking over to your watch to report you’d successfully captured the anomaly. Only then you had the chance to see that you had several missing calls from Peter.
“(Y/N)?” Peter asked when the call went in almost immediately, “Where have you been? I tried calling but you didn’t answer,”
“Yeah, sorry for going AWOL. I’ve been…busy. I caught something back here. I just reported it,” Behind you, you could hear the scorpion still struggling to free itself, “It’s an ugly one, Mayday’s going to love it.”
“(Y/N), listen, I think you should come back here. You and Miguel should try to talk…”
“P.B., I love you but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Okay? How about you come over here and help me drag this feisty little shit back to the HQ so we can send it home? You won’t believe it; it has to weigh at least…”
When you turned around to proudly stare at your prisoner, you were met with nothing but a lone stinger, eerily dangling from the ceiling. Your proud smile faded as quickly as it had arrived.
Before you could open your eyes to say anything else, you found yourself trapped between two cold surfaces that painfully squeezed all the air out of your lungs as you let out a painful yell. You desperately grabbed each side of the pincer, trying to pry them open to release yourself to no avail. With your brain already starting to run low on oxygen, your strength began to fade.
You heard Peter questioningly say your name from the device still attached to your wrist, but he sounded as if you’d been submerged underwater. And his voice sounded as if it was further, and further away. You were falling into a deep and dark lake, air deprived and without enough strength to swim to the surface. So you let yourself sink further, close your eyes and let darkness engulf you as you keep going down.
You’d wondered once or twice what would come after life. Since there was no way for you to be certain about anything, you decided to believe what sounded the most comforting. You would wake up in a beautiful place, full of light, that smelled like freshly baked cookies all the time because you would be sitting at a kitchen table with all the people that you lost along the way, and it was time for all of you to have cookies with whatever you wanted to drink, maybe you just hung out in silence, or you would discuss all the wisdom that the act of passing away seemed to come with…the point was that in no scenario did heaven smell like antiseptic.
This discrepancy was what made you start slowly blinking as you furrowed your eyebrows, the intense white light surrounding you making your head spin. Eventually, you were able to discern some shadows that slowly morphed into a familiar face.
“Hey, welcome back,” Jessica gently greeted you from a chair in the corner of the room. The hospital room. Like they’d done hours before when you woke up from your nap, a new wave of unpleasant memories came crashing down once more as you tried to sit up with a worried expression.
“Is…are we both okay?” It wasn’t until you tried to ask that you noticed a certain reluctance at saying the word.
“Yes, don’t worry,” Jess immediately assured you. Then why did she look so troubled?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, rolling her chair closer and grabbing your hand gently, “Honey, of all people you know I would’ve understood,”
“Jess, I’m so scared,” Was all you came up with before shutting your eyes and clamping your lips together to keep the sobs inside, tears already beginning to fall from your cheeks, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, how am I supposed to do this if I can’t even take down a lousy scorpion without getting myself killed?”
With a reassuring smile, the woman tried to hug you as much as her pregnancy allowed her, comfortingly running one hand down your hair and rubbing your back with the other.
“See? You’re great at this already and your kid isn’t even here,” You sobbed against her shoulder, too exhausted to return the embrace.
“What makes you think you won’t be?” She asked, pulling away to give you some space and much-needed room to breathe.
And you knew the exact reason. It came to you so fast and with such clarity that it scared you. But maybe she would understand that too. However, right as you opened your mouth to speak, a soft click coming from the door interrupted you right before it opened, leaving you completely exposed to the thorough, scrutinizing look of the man that hours ago you thought you’d never lay eyes on again.
You turned at Jess, hoping she’d create an excuse for him to leave you alone. You weren’t done talking to her. You desperately wanted her to stay.
However, she’d already turned to look at him and left her chair.
“I’ll give you a moment,” She said and, after gently caressing your shoulder one last time, left the room.
And then there were two.
For the life of you, you couldn’t think of one single thing to say, much less anticipate what his next move would be. Yet, your eyes never left his. Your jaw hurt from how hard you had to clench it to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Fuck, could the hormones be acting up already?
Right when you were starting to wonder if, should neither of you say something, you would just stay there in this staring contest until the end of time, Miguel spoke.
“How long have you known?”
“A day. Or so.” You blurted out so quickly that he wasn’t done speaking when you replied. It wasn’t until his eyes left yours and wandered down that you realized you’d been clutching your pale blue gown the entire time. As you slowly let go of it, you realized your hands were shaking.
“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked again, his voice turning one octave higher right in the middle of the question.
“Well, I found out not so long ago, and immediately after I was called here to help so I thought we had bigger problems and this could wait. But then you said we had been a mistake all along so I imagined I was on my own for this one. And I think that pretty much covers it.”
Silently, he took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” He replied, not looking at you but at an empty spot on the wall, “Back there, when I realized you were gone something didn’t make sense. You’ve pushed back much harder for less important things and now you just turned around and left? And with this, it makes even less sense. Even out of spite, you would’ve told me before leaving.”
You hated how well he knew you, and how right he was. And how what he said didn’t make you angry, but instead make you confront the harrowing confession you’d left unfinished before he walked in.
“What if you were right?” You asked taking a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t intend for this to happen, you know? It just did. What we had was manageable because at least it was just between us, no third parties affected, if anything went wrong with the timeline and such we could call it off and that was that. But now there was something tangible real coming out of this and I panicked because what if it messed everything up? What if we’d made a mistake? But I just didn’t want to think about it until you sort of confirmed it,”
You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry in front of him while having this conversation. You tried to focus on anything else to cope with his seemingly endless silence, anything but his slouching shape next to you. The soft fabric of your sheets, or the faint whirring of the monitor next to you displaying your vitals. Now you focused on your breaths. Long, deep breaths.
“So,” He finally spoke in a hoarse voice you were sure you’d never heard before, and you were so taken aback by it that you turned to look at him before you could stop yourself to find a strange, oddly endearing sight. He was crying. Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but there were definitely tears in his eyes and even if he was better at hiding it, you were sure he was struggling to keep them confined there as much as you were. Suddenly self-aware of the change in his voice, he cleared his throat before continuing.
“So, we’re having a baby?”
He sounded so expectant, and yet so afraid of the answer. He was absolutely terrified. You could see it in his eyes. This man, who faced life-risking challenges every day and had seen enough for several lifetimes, had never seemed so frightened. The thought, for some reason, made you laugh as you shuddered when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“Seems like it,” came the reply in such a croaky voice that it left you no choice but to laugh a little bit more.
This time he laughed too, although you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile before being engulfed in a hug that made you wish you weren’t in such a state so you could pull him as close to you as you really wanted. Instead, you settled for resting your forehead against his shoulder as he pulled away enough to plant several small and warm kisses on your temple.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “God, I swear I didn’t mean one single word. Whatever happens next, we’ll deal with it as it comes, I don’t care, right now all I know is none of this would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t brought me here to you,”
“Hey, don’t get sentimental on me, O’Hara,” you jokingly said, pulling away to be able to look into his eyes, “We’re going to be just fine,”
“I won’t if you keep doing stupid shit like this, (Y/N), ¿qué carajos te pasa? ‘we’re going to be just fine’ Claro, si por tu culpa no me da un infarto primero,“ He scolded you, leaving his seat, “You know you’re benched, right? You’re staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of trouble,”
“What about my dimension? There are plenty of non-interdimensional criminals there desperate to be caught,” You complained.
“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD’s going to have to figure it out for themselves for the next few months. Might even teach them to appreciate you a little more.”
“And if there’s another anomaly?”
“Dios mío, mujer,” He impatiently argued back, “I’ll go then. Or we’ll send somebody else. You’re staying here. Period.”
“Fine,” You huffed, not pleased at all with the order despite knowing you’d been very lucky this time, “But just for three months,”
“Six,” He stubbornly insisted.
“Five, but Peter’s going to be the godfather and you have to tell him.”
A disgruntled sigh echoes throughout the room.
“Fine,”
Taglist:
@anywherebuthere @khaleesihavilliard @spookyboogyuniverse @sunshiines-stuff @letharue @withbeautyandrage
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara fic#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x female reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#spiderman 2099#spiderman atsv#across the spiderverse#atsv#angst#female reader#reader insert#Spotify
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Irreplaceable.
𓉸ྀི Summary: Keeping you away from Satoru wasn't enough, his fiancée wants you out of the family, but she doesn't know what you're capable of doing to keep your loved ones close.
𓉸ྀི Featuring: Satoru Gojo x Yandere!best friend!fem!reader.
𓉸ྀི Warnings: GORE, Yandere themes, blood, violence, manipulation, stalking, gaslighting, angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of masturbation, a little (almost no) comfort at the end, no happy ending.
𓉸ྀི Notes: I wrote this in a moment of deep anguish and despair (and jealousy), I've been feeling sad lately, so there will be many more stories like this, and even a smut version of this one. I hope you enjoy reading it and have a lovely day. :)
A drop drips into the pool of blood under your feet, the wet sound startles you, your eyes move from side to side, your body is on alert. You rub your bloodstained hands on your T-shirt, no matter what you do, how hard you rub, your hands remain dirty. You walk around wondering what you're going to do with that body lying on the ground, but what worries you most is what Satoru will do when he finds out what you've done, after all, the body belongs to his fiancée.
A few hours ago she arranged to meet you in a hurry, you had no idea what she wanted to talk about so urgently, nor why the meeting place was so far out of town, but you went anyway. There was nothing to be afraid of, she was the woman your best friend chose to be by his side, you never misjudged his choices, she seemed like a good person, but she was the woman who took your place.
You arrived before her, the appointed place was an abandoned hotel by the side of the road, if you were a murderer you would surely lure your victims here, you smiled and covered your face, what the hell were you thinking? Satoru's fiancée arrived by taxi a short time later, she apologised for being late and guided you inside the hotel, the place was falling apart, there was moss and a lot of dust scattered around, the vegetation was taking over inside, it looked like a post apocalyptic scenario, but nothing scary.
"We need to have a serious conversation, woman to woman, Y/N." Her voice was rough, at this point you had your back to her and looked over your shoulder, she seemed very nervous, her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.
"What do you want with me?" You spun on your heels and arched an eyebrow.
"Oh dear, don't play dumb." She took a step forward and you took half a step back, leaning on your back leg to put yourself in a defensive position in case she wanted to hit you, but it made her laugh. "Do you really think I'd get my hands dirty with you?"
"..." you frowned and sighed. "Look, unlike you, I have a job, two kids and a cat, I'm very busy, you know? So if you're going to bore me, I'm going to leave you alone." You started to walk towards the exit, but she grabbed your arm.
"I know all too well how busy you've been lately." She whispered in your ear, you felt she was too close, so you pulled your arm away and stepped back. "Do you think I don't know about your secret hobby?" She took an envelope out of her handbag and handed it to you. "Come on, open it, I'd love you to explain it to me."
You felt an unpleasant shiver as you took the envelope from her hand. You opened it and inside the envelope there were lots of photos, your heart stopped, they were photos of you stalking Satoru and her. You were always very careful during your stalking time, enough not to attract Satoru's attention, but somehow that woman had noticed. Her face hardened and her expression turned sombre, you had been caught.
"It seems you have nothing to say to me, where's your courage now?" She mocked you. "I'd love to show it to Satoru, but he already knows." You stared into her eyes in shock. "Have you forgotten who he is? Those eyes aren't called six eyes for nothing. He didn't want to believe it, but I showed him everything."
You choked.
"It would be better if you stepped back, Y/N." Satoru's fiancée decreased the distance between you again without you realising, she grabbed your chin and made you look into her eyes. "Satoru doesn't need you and your protection, your children don't need you anymore, even your cat doesn't need you anymore, because I'm going to marry him and take your place." She tightened her grip on your face. "I'm going to be the mother of your children now, you don't need to keep them any longer."
"Shut up..." you grabbed her wrist.
"I'm not finished." She raised her voice. "In fact, you can take your children away, since soon Satoru and I will have one." She smiled from ear to ear and placed her free hand on her belly, a tear trickling from the corner of your eye. "Oh, honey, don't make that face, we know you could never give him a child. After all, you've always just been friends."
Something inside you broke as you stared at her. You knew you'd never be anything but a shadow to Satoru, he could consider you his best friend, but you know you're not worthy of that position, because there was someone else occupying it. When he adopted Toji's children, you offered to help him, so when he announced to everyone that you would be the mother of those children, it filled you with hope, you would have a place by his side that no one could take, you didn't imagine that even that would be taken away from you.
You looked after Megumi and Tsumiki as if they were your blood children, Satoru was your companion, every meal you would eat together like a real family. You went to the children's school reunions with him, you went to graduations, you helped with homework, you even bought a bigger house to live in with the children, you made it your business to keep that family together.
But one day he introduced you to a girl, that's when you realised how insignificant your position as mother to his children was, you congratulated him on having found someone to be by his side, you even pretended to be happy for them, but the hole inside your heart grew again.
You remember fighting with your children when they refused to accept their father's new girlfriend, how upset Megumi was when Satoru took your place at the school's Mother's Day party, how sad your daughter looked when her father's girlfriend started giving her opinions on the clothes she wore. You tried to fit her into the family, but like an extra piece in a jigsaw puzzle, she remained out of place.
It was then that Satoru asked you to stop living in the house you had bought, because it was strange for him now that he was engaged to sleep in the same house as another woman. Reluctantly, you agreed to his request, and the children suffered from your absence, but you still picked them up to spend the weekend at your new home. His girlfriend gradually took your place, pushing you out of the family you had built.
You continued your life as before, but a dark desire for possession began to grow inside you, insidious feelings that you didn't know how to deal with. At first it started with a walk to your old house, you watched your children and Satoru eat, watch TV, play video games and even sleep, but you weren't satisfied with that, so you started following them on dates, trips, to school, to work. It was the way you found to be close to them.
At work, you started avoiding Satoru, ashamed of your double life, but for some reason he came after you several times, apologised for telling you to leave, told you that you didn't have to stay away because you were still his best friend and the mother of his children. But as always, that woman was there to get in the way. Every time he offered to walk you home, she wanted to go along, every time the children asked Satoru to go out with you and them, she followed, you couldn't be alone any more, not even at work, because she decided she had to bring him his lunch every day.
At your last meeting with Satoru, he handed you the wedding invitation, he looked tired and a little nervous, but you didn't say anything, afraid that that woman would turn up if you said too much. He held your hand and said he hoped you would come to the wedding, unfortunately it would be too painful for you to see him marry her, so you told him you were sorry and that maybe you wouldn't be there for him this time. You saw the disappointment in his eyes, but you had to take care of your broke heart. You said goodbye with a tight hug, it was the first and last time he hugged you since he started dating, you left without saying anything and he stayed behind in your living room in silence.
"I told you to let me go!" You pushed his fiancée, your heart was beating too fast, all those memories going through your head like a whirlwind, months of pent-up anger and sadness building up, you were on the edge, about to lose control, but she didn't want to stop. "Go away."
"I'M NOT LET YOU GO!" She grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you. "I'm going to expose to everyone how despicable and disgusting you are, that mask of your beloved mother and perfect best friend is going to fall off, there won't be anyone left of your-."
You slapped her in the middle of the sentence, she opened her mouth to speak, but you slapped her again, and then again, again, again, until the skin on her face cut, you only saw red after that. She took her mobile phone out of her bag to call someone, but you grabbed her hand and broke her wrist, she screamed in pain, her screams were a comfort for the months of pent-up anger.
You grabbed her by the hair and dragged her deeper into the hotel, so you wouldn't risk being interrupted if anyone heard her desperate screams. You threw her against the wall and grabbed a piece of wood that was hanging from the ceiling, then hit her on the head several times, each blow harder than the last. You didn't stop until her face turned into a ball of blood.
You split the breaking piece of wood with your knee and chose the side with the sharpest edge, then turned her body over, you knelt beside her, you didn't know if she was alive or dead, but you still said. "If I can't have a child with him, neither can you." You drove the wooden stake as deep into her abdomen as you could and pulled down, tearing the skin, you put your hand inside her body, then pulled the viscera out one by one, in search of her uterus.
When you finally found it, you squeezed the little organ until it burst in your hand, pieces of flesh oozed out between your fingers, you slapped the rest of the flesh on the floor and stepped on it. You looked at the mutilated corpse with a satisfied smile, your heart began to beat slowly, as if you had just found peace.
Your mind completely erased the bloody scenes from your conscious self. When you woke up from your trance, Satoru's fiancée was already dead under your feet, your hands were smeared with blood, your clothes and shoes too, but not as much as your hands, there were pieces of human flesh on your fingernails. You were scared, you never imagined you'd be able to lose control like that, you tried to blame her for pushing you to the limit, but you knew it would happen, you just didn't know it would be so soon.
Satoru arrived on the scene not long before you lost control, he was worried when he found out that his fiancée had arranged to meet someone in a remote location, but when he heard your voice, he was reassured, but not for long, by the time his fiancée's screams reached his ears it was too late. You turned into a monster in a few seconds, he was paralysed as he watched you beat and tear her body apart.
He didn't know this side of you, you were so kind and loving, always looking after the children and him, you were so understanding that you didn't get upset when he asked you to leave. You were his best friend for as long as he can remember, when his parents died you were the person he leaned on, when the problems at school started you helped him get out of the deep end, you even adopted his children. You made his favourite food whenever he was unwell or in the mood, you waited for him to come home even if it was late, you put the covers on him when he slept on the sofa, you gave him baths when he was too depressed to get out of bed, you were his solace many nights. This monster in front of him was nothing like his lovable Y/N.
He watched you suddenly return to "normal" and how scared you were. He heard you mutter how upset he would be when he found out what you had done, you looked so strange...
You realised that you were no longer alone, your heart began to beat more slowly, you began to make calculated movements, moving around as if you were looking for something to clean up the evidence, but the truth was that you were looking for the spectator. You picked up another piece of wood and were about to surprise the intruder, that's when he grabbed the object and held it tightly, you looked up in surprise, it was Satoru.
"Gojo?!" You dropped the piece of wood and used your hands to cover your mouth.
"Are you going to kill me too?" He looked disappointed, ashamed of what you had done, he let go of the piece of wood and you lowered your head. "Y/N, what have you done?"
"I... I don't know." You lied, you know that his fiancée's provocations pushed you over the edge, but nothing you say will be able to justify the crime you committed. You kept your head down and continued talking, your right hand clutching his hand. "You don't have to forgive me, you can hand me over to the authorities if you want, just please don't leave me again."
Your response was a shock to him, you were giving yourself away, you didn't even try to justify what you'd done, it hurt deep down in his heart.
He was your best friend, no matter who you killed, he couldn't let you be arrested and tried and possibly killed, you were the most important person in his life, his children wouldn't forgive him if he let you be killed for killing his fiancée. It was then that he realised that those thoughts going through his head weren't him, you were inducing him to think that way.
There was a dark secret about you, one that you don't know, but Satoru does. You can influence people with your words, although it's a useless power against curses, with people you have an advantage. He realised this the moment you had your first fight when you were young, he couldn't get upset with you, and a few hours later he was apologising. But manipulation has a side effect: addiction. Despite having built up a certain resistance by constantly exposing himself to your power, he can't avoid those thoughts most of the time, which is why he's never been able to let you go.
This intensified when he asked you to move house and the children began to experience withdrawal symptoms, he himself began to feel the effects and it affected his relationship with his fiancée, several nights he woke up screaming your name, a few times he was caught masturbating to photos of you, his fiancée became increasingly angry, to the point of preventing him from seeing you. But when Satoru started looking for you at work, she came up with a plan.
She told him about you and your walks to their house, showed him the evidence, but he didn't say anything, after all he knew you followed him and the children, but you were an overprotective mum and friend, it was no big deal. Satoru told her he wouldn't find you again, but when she discovered that he had found you in his office during working hours, she decided to go after you on her own. He believed that you would manipulate her too, to remain part of the family, but instead you killed her.
He unconsciously pulls you into an embrace, the barrier that protects him is now covering you too, he puts a hand on your head and curls a few strands of hair in his fingers, playing with them. He kisses the top of your head and whispers that it's going to be okay, he knows it's not going to be okay, not as long as you manipulate him. But for now it doesn't matter, because people who have died can't be resurrected, so all he can do is promise that it won't happen again.
"I swear, Y/N. I'll never make you suffer again." Satoru said softly, increasing the tightness of the hug. "I'll take care of it, okay? No one needs to know what happened here."
You hold him tightly, tears flow from your eyes without stopping, he's still your best friend, your feeling of inferiority increases, he could forgive anything you did and you weren't even able to deal with his fiancée's silly threats, you feel so small and unworthy.
"Satoru..."
"Yes?" He replies, looking at you.
"Your fiancée said she was pregnant." You say hesitantly, but with your eyes on his face, analysing his expressions. For some reason he looks confused, and that makes you anxious. "She told me I could take the children away because she would have your child."
"If she were pregnant, I'd be the first to know." Satoru knew it was just a lie from his fiancée, but he still felt strange, your motives for murdering his fiancée seemed darker and darker. He only felt reassured when his expression relaxed. "No need to worry, Y/N, I don't want any more children, Megumi and Tsumiki are enough for me."
"Yes, you're right, you never asked me to have children." You don't seem satisfied, so you hold his hands, a dark desire blossoming in your heart. "But it would be nice if we had one." You feel him shudder as you use your thumbs to caress his hands, you look at him with dilated pupils, and he can't look away, his cheeks are red, but you don't know why. "Let's talk about it later, when we get home."
#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#yandere#yandere jjk#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#yandere reader#yandere satoru gojo#yandere gojo#yandere x y/n#yandere satoru x reader#gojo satoru#satorugojo#jjk satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you
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