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jj-one · 1 month

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HATE YOU

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.

You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.

Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.

“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.

He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.

“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”

That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.

“Why do you care?” You said harshly.

It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.

“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.

“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.

“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”

“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”

You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.

You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.

“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.

The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.

“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.

“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.

They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.

“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.

“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”

They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.

You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.

You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.

Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.

“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.

“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.

You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.

“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.

His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.

“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.

“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.

“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.

“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”

Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”

“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”

His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.

“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.

“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.

You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.

“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”

You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.

He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.

“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.

“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.

“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.

Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.

“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.

“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”

He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.

“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.

You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.

People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.

“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.

“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”

“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”

He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.

“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”

You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.

“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.

You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.

“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.

“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.

Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.

“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.

You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine

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delirious-donna · 1 month

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Praise [Nanami Kento]

an: this is an old fic of mine which got slapped with a flag the first time around. I’ve reworked it and I like it far better now and I hope you will too.

premise: Kento finds it so adorable when you look at him with those big, shiny doe eyes. Has he noticed that you do it more when he sings your praises? Oh yes, and he plans to make you purr for him.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: praise kink, office sex, possibility of being caught, boss/subordinate dynamic, sloppy blowjob, cum swallowing, Kento being a bit of a tease but with good intentions

Masterlist

It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore the way you squeezed past him in the break room. The lilt of faintly murmured apologies and downcast eyes that refused to meet his own.

Nanami watched you keenly whilst you poured your coffee and sprinkled in packet after packet of sweetener. Leaning against the far wall with his coffee mug dutifully hiding the smile that rose to his lips. Ever the sweet tooth.

His board of directors would shudder in their golf carts if they knew he mingled with his subordinates on a daily basis rather than locking himself within an ivory tower. It was an argument he was accustomed to, and one that he assured anyone that asked was worth the risk. Workers who knew the big boss outside of his office were more likely to be productive. He had reams of research tucked away, statistics on the positive impact on retention rates and the upward trends on quality assurance.

It was all a ruse, and a convincing one at that. Kento could recite KPIs at the drop of a hat until those scrutinising eyes turned vacant and disengaged. All for you. His every effort to satisfy the worry that stalked your every breath it seemed at times. For you see, you meant the world to Nanami Kento and he to you, but he was also your boss and that caused problems.

A secret relationship, one that might be frowned upon if he weren’t the CEO of the company, but it was at your continued insistence. You wanted to be taken seriously for your contribution to the company and he respected that decision. The board answered to him at the end of the day, he held a majority share in the organisation he had built from the ground up, but he understood your desire to find your own worth rather than be tied to his side.

You were a dedicated worker, a real asset to the executive team he managed personally and from the moment he met you, he knew he had to have you. Never before had he felt compelled to pursue something so risqué. Most would call him risk averse, what they didn’t know would likely make their jaws drop.

Whilst his gut instinct was immediate, the road to where you were now was not so quick. It had taken time and a boatload of patience. A sensual dance of flirtation and seduction which had severely tested his restraint, but after months of witty remarks and sexual tension thick enough to choke a horse, you were finally his.

Quite frankly he hadn’t known he had it in him. It was the first time he had spent as much time and energy on pursuing anyone, but the reward had been more than worth it. Only recently, he asked you to move in with him and the spacious penthouse no longer felt too large and lonesome. The bachelor life was not meant for him. It was an ill-fitting suit and he gladly welcomed the tailored fit of being your adoring partner and lover.

It was tainted by the fact that you shared the same bed, woke tangled in each other’s arms each morning but never arrived to work together. The same was true at the end of the day, though Kento tended to spend more hours in the office for obvious reasons. He understood your reservations, it was hard for a woman to be taken seriously at this level and although he operated with a policy of complete gender equality, there were still those old-school fuckers that looked down on women.

He’d assured you he wouldn’t hesitate to fire anyone who even uttered a derogatory word regarding your relationship but you begged him to keep it quiet for now. Unfortunately for him, he was wrapped tightly around your finger and so, despite his desire to the contrary, he bowed to your wishes.

Only thought of the day where he could stand proudly by your side without fear of repercussion in your eyes kept him going. Wheedling out the bad seeds covertly in the background to lay the groundwork for the years to come and how prosperous and happy you both could be if given the chance to flourish freely.

Nanami was a good man, at least he hoped he was.

However, his gaze was anything but at this moment. He felt the surge of predatory intent wash through him as he took in your grey skirt and the matching jacket that pinched your waist in the way he liked most. The knowledge of those delectable thigh highs that concealed your bare legs ran rampant, and he idly cursed that he wasn’t pressing you up against the counter and fucking you like he wanted to do. To hell with coffee and boring Monday meetings.

No, he had control and an idea.

“See you in ten,” he said on his way out the door, flashing a quick wink in your direction and watching your jaw drop in response.

The boardroom was noisy as everyone took their seats. Conversation flowed but you couldn’t pay attention, not when you knew that Kento was up to something. That faint crocodile smile he had offered not long ago lingered in your memory and you straightened deliberately in your chair, uncomfortable for the first time in many months.

He sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled whilst he studied the open planner set before him. Strands of blonde hair fell into his face, and the annoying part of you that wanted to sweep it back reared its head. As if he could sense your thoughts, he parted his hands and fixed his hair without glancing at you.

The sooner this meeting was over, the better. You had a project in need of your attention, and literally any excuse not to be caught feeling frisky in the office. A prospect that was growing exceedingly harder given the unknown meaning behind that sly little wink in the break room.

The proceedings started as normal, the boring bullshit of every corporate meeting and then it happened.

“Excellent work on the Fushiguro account. You exceeded expectations, well done.” Nanami announced out of the blue. His warm hazel eyes fixed you in place whilst your colleagues eagerly added to the sentiment, some genuine and some because they were simpering fools.

You found yourself staring at him—at your boss—with cheeks that felt hot enough to fry eggs and wide eyes blinking much too rapidly. Raw pride swelled in your chest along with a squirm in your lower half and a pleasant sensation twisting in your gut.

“Thank you, sir.”

Perhaps it could be put down to a one-off but not when the offers of praise started to come thick and fast. He made it seem so natural as if he were paying it no more attention than a good boss should do and he certainly shared the successes out amongst your colleagues, but this was something else—you knew it.

Could he sense that your thighs were pressed tightly together beneath the opulent table? Did he hear the hitch of your breath every time he mentioned your name? How about the heat spreading across the back of your neck or the bead of sweat that trickled down your spine? Could he smell your arousal?

Goddamn his fiendish ways. Kento always could read you like a book, and not just any book plucked from the shelf. You were a well-thumbed and beloved story that he would read fondly over and over, each time finding new things to add to the piles of reasons for loving you.

You were losing your mind. Furiously beating your pen against the still empty pad you’d brought with you for note taking. You crossed and uncrossed your legs for the hundredth time, desperately wanting to excuse yourself for the solitude of the bathroom. A splash of water to your face was long overdue.

So lost in the abundance of praise being heaped on you, you didn’t hear the call of dismissal. It wasn’t until the scrapping of chairs met your ears did you realise it was time to leave and you were ready to rocket your right out of the room as soon as the door opened.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Nanami asked you nonchalantly. Your knees almost buckled at the idea of being alone here with him.

Only once the last person left and the door thudded shut did you dare to look at him. Dared to bear witness to the blonde God that was leaning back in his chair—observing you.

“Is everything alright? You look… flushed.”

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you chewed over your words. “I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate the concern.”

“Hm. That you are, sweetheart. So very fine…” he enthused, reclining back in his executive chair to rake your standing figure with a lustful eye. Oh, he wasn’t playing fair in the slightest and somehow that made everything far worse.

Kento admired you from the top of your head right down to your shuffling toes and back again. The flash of his pink tongue wetting his lips did nothing but force a fierce shudder down the length of your spine. You knew where this was going, part terrified and part excited beyond belief. In the sanctity of your home, you would have already pounced.

“Ken—”

“I can smell your arousal, darling.”

Quick as a flash, he was leaning forward in his seat and wrapping both hands around your wrists to tug you towards him. You gasped aloud at his downright filthy accusation and the way he was manhandling you to stand in front of him. The edge of the desk hit against the backs of your thighs and Kento used your moment of imbalance to seat your butt against the edge of the glass top.

He rolled his chair closer, a thick muscled thigh pressed between your legs and forced the tight hold of your skirt to ride up to accommodate his presence there. Nanami groaned at the sight of your lace-detailed stocking tops, a calloused finger swiped across his mouth as if deciding what to do next.

“Have you noticed how… receptive you become when I praise you? Or how your beautiful skin blooms when I tell you how clever you are?”

Kento brushed his thumb across your cheek, stroking your jaw and tilting your chin. His free hand fingered the lacy tops of your thigh highs, straddling the line where the garment met your bare skin and you fought down the moan in your throat. You were melting into a puddle, no more than an ice cream cone on a blazing summer day and longing to be licked up by the man before you.

“Such a brilliant mind inside that pretty head, I’m truly a lucky man,” he rasped, and you snapped.

Grabbing him by the knot of the tie at his throat, you pulled him to meet you halfway in a searing kiss. Damn it all to hell, you no longer cared that you were in the workplace or that the door wasn’t even locked, you needed him with a dizzying urgency that refused to be denied a moment longer.

The aroma of rich, bitter coffee and musky cologne filled your nose, it birthed a breathy sigh of equal parts comfort and desire. You tried to slide onto his lap, to anchor your knees on either side of his hips but he held you fixed on the table with two strong palms.

“My precious sweetheart needs to show me how good she can be. Think you can take care of a pressing matter of mine?” Kento’s gaze dropped to the obvious lift to his expensive dress slacks, and you caught his meaning immediately.

The idea of being praised more was all the encouragement you needed to bend at the waist and palm him through the heavy material. You could feel the outline of his straining cock, both your mouth and pussy drooled in anticipation of revealing the beast hiding beneath those layers.

You made quick work of his belt, unfastening the buckle deftly before freeing his button and dragging the zipper down. Nanami assisted in lifting his hips enough to shuffle his trousers down whilst your eager fingers hooked inside the waistband of his briefs and finally his leaking cock sprang out.

The velvet skin appeared agitated and angry, the tip flushed a deep pulsing purple and pearlescent precum oozed freely from his slit. You touched the silky liquid without grazing his skin yet he still twitched from watching you alone.

“Mm… gonna show me what you’ve got, sweetheart? Show me who the real boss is here?” He drawled almost lazily, and your breath hitched at the insinuation that you were the one in charge. That thought made your cunt clench and your stomach flutter.

You wrapped around his shaft, working the beads of moisture down his skin to make the pump of your fist more slick and comfortable. Kento watched you through hooded eyes, delving his hands through your lustrous hair and pulling it free from the clip holding it back. You were such a sinful sight; all flushed cheeks and heaving chest that strained the silky fabric of your blouse to the limit.

“Gods, you drive me crazy. Do you know how much I have to restrain myself when you’re around?”

Big, round doe eyes blinked up from where you knelt between his parted thighs. The surface of your irises were glossy like polished mirrors and saliva escaped your pouty lips before you’d even gotten close to taking him into your mouth.

He knew your tight little pussy would be throbbing in need, that lust covered your folds and tracked down your thighs, sticking to your skin and waiting to be licked clean by his tongue. He could smell it, practically taste it and he would, once you were finished.

“Kento…”

He nodded his head, giving you the permission he knew you were seeking to do what you both wanted. That first sensation from the heat of your mouth sent him crashing, head tilted to stare at the ceiling and strained the thick tendons in his neck.

You moaned around his girth, slobbering already as your overexcitement spurred you on. The ache in your pert clit was maddening, the clench of your thighs not enough to relieve the ache in the pit of your abdomen. The friction wasn’t nearly enough, you were desperate for more. What made it worse was the heavy, bitter taste of Kento’s cock. It made you salivate, but not only in your mouth. The underwear beneath your skirt would have to be trashed as completely ruined at this point.

“Fuck, that’s it. Taking me down your throat so well, so proud of you sweetheart,” he groaned whilst noticing your restless wriggling and knowing exactly what you wanted—what you needed. “Play with yourself, my love.”

You jumped at the instruction, eager not to waste a moment of time in complying with the request and grateful that your man was so in tune with your needs and not just his own. A hand slid beneath your skirt and rubbed erratically through the sodden cotton of your ruined underwear. Never had you fallen apart so quickly, never had your heart thundered so much that it might explode.

“I love seeing you like this. Let me hear you purr for me, kitten.”

Swallowing around his thick girth, your cheeks hollowed to increase the suction of your mouth and Kento’s head snapped down to your face with parted lips. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat but you didn’t stop, barely hesitated as he slid further down until you gagged and spluttered when you pulled off for air. It was only for a moment. You were too resolute in bringing this powerful man to his knees.

With a flickering tongue that pressed thickly against his heavy shaft, you tasted him thoroughly and let spit bubble at the sides of your mouth to coat your chin. Kento was fighting against the rise of his hips as he twisted a hand into your hair and gently guided your head up and down in the perfect bobbing motion.

He was close. Hell, you were closer.

Your forearm rested on his strong thigh, hand wrapped around the remaining inches of his shaft that refused to fit into your mouth and throat whilst the other hand dipped into your sopping hole.

Your cunt clenched around your slim fingers, and you could sob. You longed for something else, something more and you knew just what you wanted, but perhaps you weren’t going to get it.

“Sw—sweetheart… i’m gonna - oh fuck - swallow it like a good girl, please?” His plea was breathless and the nearest you had ever heard to a whimper. It was beautiful and empowering to know that he could be brought to heel by you.

The low flutter of your lashes along with a subtle nod and watery eyes were his sign of your acceptance. Kento allowed the pressure that was building to a crescendo to release like a riptide. He spilled his seed down your throat and filled your mouth as he pulled his hips back.

He was in awe at the sight of you licking your lips like the cat who got the cream. His chest heaved with every twitch of his dick, emptying himself against your pursed lips and smearing the remnants for you to lap up greedily. Kento smiled, lazy and content now that the ache of his balls had drained away. He was quick to haul you up and onto his lap with your surprised squeal causing him to chuckle.

“I love you, my beautiful, smart and funny girl,” he cooed into your ear, his large palms coasted over your jittery thighs and hooked between your legs just where you needed him the most.

“Now then, time for your reward…”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mahgyu · 3 months

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JJK Men: Dreaming about you after your death

· — Even months later after his tragic death by a cursed spirit, they still dream of that terrible day.

๑ Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna.

๑ Content: Fem!Reader, established relationship, angst, A LOT of angst (*evil laugh*), mention of panic crisis (Choso)

๑ a/n: I enjoyed writing this so much, even though it was really sad. Ah, unlike the others, Sukuna didn't have a dream but rather flashbacks, you will understand when you read.

⸺ㅤGOJO

Gojo woke up startled, trying to grasp something that was no longer there. He barely noticed he was already crying when he woke up, the eyes you used to love and appreciate were now crying for your absence. That man who once laughed and smiled genuinely by your side had once again lost the reason to laugh and smile truly. Gojo sincerely couldn't bear to maintain that facade of a strong sorcerer, physically and mentally. He was tired, he was alone. He promised, he promised to protect you, but he failed. Now he promises that, one day, he will find you again, but for now he would just embrace the clothes you used to wear to feel your scent while he cries. Unfortunately, those clothes were already losing your scent.

⸺ㅤGETO

Geto absolutely refused to accept what had happened. He convinced himself that you would suddenly walk through the door with that smile he loves so much. He would wait however long it took for that to happen, but deep down, he knew it would never come true. That's why Geto woke up already staring directly at the door. In the dream, you walked through that door smiling, just as he had been imagining lately. It seemed so real that he could swear he smelled your scent. But the scent didn't actually come from you; it came from the stuffed animal you cherished, which Geto now slept beside every night to catch a glimpse of you being with him.

⸺ㅤNANAMI

Nanami had just returned from work. Sitting on the couch, he ended up dozing off and had that same repetitive dream about you. The day he proposed to you was certainly one of the most memorable days in Nanami's life. But that dream always ends with that cursed spirit sneaking up from behind and dragging you away from Nanami. Kento always screams and tries to run towards you, but for some reason, he never moves from his spot. Nanami opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing. He glanced down at his own hand, where he still wore the engagement ring on his finger. He wouldn't dare take it off for anything, even though you're no longer physically there with him, even if the image of you looking beautiful in a white dress is now nothing more than a dream never realized.

⸺ㅤCHOSO

Choso woke up totally bewildered, panting, and in a panic. He sat on the bed while looking around, processing where he was and searching for you, but found nothing, nothing but a photo of you next to the bed. Choso couldn't take it anymore, couldn't bear to have so many panic attacks for not being able to save you that day, he wasn't there to protect you as he had promised. He failed you, and it tore him apart. He hated having to deal with these daily crises; Choso knew it was exhausting to help him in these moments; he hated worrying others. But the moment he promised to avenge you, he would fulfill it, even if it cost him his own life.

��ㅤTOJI

Toji woke up slowly, taking a moment to fully open his eyes due to the brightness and gradually realizing that everything he had witnessed was just a dream. In this dream, he saw you humming softly a song he already knew entirely because of you, but before he could touch you, he woke up. Toji realized he wasn't in the place he used to call home, it wasn't a home without you. He was in another one of the places he rented to spend the night. Going back to that house no longer made sense without you to welcome him with your sweet kisses and bright smile. Toji completely lost his way, delving back into the bad paths you fought so hard to steer him away from, but you were no longer there to stop him. He no longer cared about himself.

⸺ㅤSUKUNA

Sukuna closed his eyes for a few minutes when he had the vision of your face in your last moments of life, the life he himself made a point of taking, just as he had promised from the moment he first found you. For some reason, the image of your face wouldn't leave his mind anymore, and he hated it. He hated how you looked at him so tired and exhausted from everything, just accepting what was to come, how you seemed so vulnerable and fragile. No, that wasn't right. Sukuna opened his eyes as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand, while frustration flowed from within him. He should have been satisfied for having fulfilled what he promised, but no. He was dissatisfied, frustrated, and didn't know if it was because you didn't even try to fight him and just accepted your end, or if it was because he had really ended you. It made no sense to him, but still, it ate away at him.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it 🩶

ㅤㅤㅤ

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aurpiment · 7 months

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I dreamed that I was working on an ecology research boat and for some reason aboard the boat there was an injured otter. One of my colleagues started feeding it cat kibble and thawed cooked shrimp on a plate and he even taught her to say yes and no. (Pulling a lever on a striped ball was no, on a plain ball was yes.) The otter was very intelligent and she became accustomed to and even fond of humans. She stayed on the boat even after she recovered. She cozied up to human hands to request to be petted on the head. This made another of my colleagues, who was more senior, very upset. She (the colleague, not the otter) explained to him that it is dangerous for wild animals to become acclimatized to humans.

Here’s where it got weird. We tried to reason with the otter to convince her to leave us forever and go back into the wild, since the otter had learned to understand English and could now speak. I told her that she had lost the instinct to bite our hands, and that otters are supposed to bite. She answered that she was sorry that she used to have the instinct to bite us, because it was rude, and that we were her friends. (She figured out it was rude among humans because she noticed that none of us bit each other, not even playing.)

I relayed this answer to the senior colleague who, after cussing out the other colleague for “de-animalizing” the otter, came up with a plan. (De-animalizing, my colleague explained, turns a wild animal into a pet, and “a house-animal is no animal.” She explained this in German. My German is very bad.)

This was the plan: We were to give the otter a “shamanic experience” to make her think she was having a meaningful vision. My senior colleague would drug her, and drape her in the preserved pelt of another otter, so that when she woke up, she would ask herself, ‘who am I?’ And come out of the pelt thinking she was being reborn. I thought draping her in the skin of a dead member of her own species was macabre and possibly itchy, and that the whole “shamanic experience” idea was pure plastic, but the risk was that she would be de-animalized if she stayed with us longer, so I followed along with the plan.

My senior colleague drugged the otter, the otter woke up and crawled out of the other pelt, and then, since I was the intern on the boat, I stomped rhythmically on closed tiptoes in front of the otter and conveyed information to her in a droning song. I chanted about how it was dangerous for wild animals to stay among humans. I don’t think I was wearing a mask, so the otter recognized me and didn’t get why I was doing that weird song and dance. Ritual does not come naturally to otters, even tame ones. Nor are they in the habit of having dream visions.

But she was sort of enthralled by the rhythmic footwork of the dance and she was still a little cross-eyed and high, so she was paying rapt attention to what I was telling her. She asked me, very earnestly, “do corrupt intentions underlie your deeds?” (Meaning humans as a whole, not just me)

I told her, (in a normal voice, no longer doing the song bit) “My friend, some of us are very corrupt. It’s not safe to trust any of us.“

What I said to her was more words than that, but I focused so hard on saying it that I said it with my real still-in-bed body’s mouth and breath, which woke me up. I don’t know if the otter was persuaded to return to the water.

#mt #dreams

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angrykittenvoid · 11 months

Text

You owe me

Warnings: Lucifer being a perv, swearing, dirty talk, lots of sex

Summary: You want to make a pact with Lucifer but he wants something in return: your body.

He thinks you haven’t noticed his strange behaviours towards you, but you have. Staring at you when he thinks you’re not looking. His protective glare over you whenever you talk to one of his brothers. Or even when he’d put his hands on your waist to pass by you and his touch would linger a bit too long. Eventually he started holding your waist every time he’d pass by you even when it wasn’t necessary, and you swear you feel his cock rub against your ass every time.

He’s been wanting to feel you up for the longest time. Spending so many nights with his cock in his fist, moaning your name in ecstasy. Though imagining you under him screaming his name satisfied him enough to reach his climax, it just wasn’t enough. He needed you. The real you. And he wanted to make his fantasies of you a reality.

Lucifer was the last demon brother you needed to make a pact with but he’s been so hard to convince. One day you decide you’re done waiting for the right moment. You barge into his room to just come out and say it. “I want you to make a pact with me”, you say determinedly. Lucifer gets up from his chair and struts towards you with curiosity. “Why are you so adamant on making pacts with my brothers and I?” Of course you can’t tell him the real reason you want to make the pact, he’d be livid if he found out you’re trying to help Belphie escape the attic. “I’m in an entirely new world, I want to be as strong as possible.” You aren’t entirely lying, but you’re not telling the full truth either. Lucifer eyes you suspiciously as he walks closer.

“What’s in it for me?” The smirk on his face grows as a devious plan develops in his head. “What do you mean?” “Well if I’m gonna give you something without knowing your full intentions I might as well get something out of it.” He takes another step closer, making the small gap between you two even smaller.

“Fine, what do you want?” you say anxiously. “…I want to taste you”, he said with nothing but lust in his voice as he pinned you against the wall behind you. You’re now stuck between the wall and a very horny Lucifer towering over you. “I’ll make a pact with you if… I get to fuck you whenever I want for a month.” Your eyes widen in shock. Being a sex slave to a demon for a month?! You’re not sure you could even handle whatever sadistic, sexual tasks Lucifer had in store for you. As you eye him up you look a bit further down his body, noticing his already hard cock making a tent in his pants. Lucifer notices your staring and decides to rub his cock against your pussy. You let out a loud whine. “So what do you say? Wanna be my little play thing for a month?” What other choice do you have? You need to make this pact otherwise the work you put into making the other pacts would’ve all been for nothing. If this is the only way he’ll agree to a pact then so be it. You look up at him nervously and say “deal.” Lucifer has the most devilish grin on his face as he looks at his watch. “Well would you look at that. It’s midnight”, he says closing the gap between you two by kissing you roughly. He shoves his tongue passed your lips, dominating your mouth as he gropes your breast with one hand and your ass with the other.

“Our one month starts now.”

——

Lucifer takes full advantage of this opportunity by bending you over every chance he gets. You just woke up? Early morning, sloppy sex. You’re at school? He’s pulling you into the nearest storage closet. You’re chilling in your room? He’s pulling you into his room where you spend the night being his personal cum dump.

He puts you in every position he can think of. Missionary, downward dog, in front of a mirror, against the wall, and even in his office a couple times. In his right mind he’d be terrified if someone, especially Diavolo, walked in on you two in such an inappropriate position in his office, but he’s so pussy drunk he can’t think straight. All he wants is to feel you around his cock.

——

“L-Lucifer.” That’s the only coherent word you’re able to utter as Lucifer bullies your sensitive cunt. Besides your tired moans, the lewd sound of flesh smacking against flesh is all that can be heard within Lucifer’s bedroom. Earlier, he called your phone, all he said was “My room. Now” and hung up. And because of the deal you made, you couldn’t say no. Not like you’d want to anyway. You love the feeling of the hunky demon assorting his dominance over you and fucking your brains out every night. And now here you are, Lucifer slamming his hips into yours like his life depends on it. Hitting your sweet spot with every thrust as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

If only you could focus your eyes enough to see Lucifer right now, he’s a mess. Face sweaty, hair disheveled, and a string of drool rolling down his chin. “Fuck. You feel so damn good.” He grunts, leaning down to lay a rough kiss on your lips. His thrusts become sloppier as he gets closer to his climax. “Oh Lucifer- p-please make me cum.” Your desperate cries was all it took to push him off the edge, shooting hot streaks of cum straight into your womb. You follow suit as you come around his still hardened cock for what you think is the fifth time tonight.

“Oh baby, we’re only halfway done, remember? You’re still mine for the next 2 weeks. Actually I’m not sure I’ll be willing to let go by then. How about another few weeks? ’Nother few months? I just need to feel your sweet pussy for a bit longer. Damn, your fucked out face is getting me riled up again. You’re tired? Nah, you can handle one more round. Remember, you owe me”, he affirms as his thrusts start to speed up again.

This is gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer avatar of pride #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer x female reader #obey me nightbringer #lucifer smut #mammonobeyme #beezlebub #perv lucifer #obey me smut #lord diavolo

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 6 months

Note

Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something true so you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus fandom #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus jax #tadc #tadc x reader #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc fanfiction #jax #jax x reader #jax fanfiction #digital circus jax

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of-cauldrons-and-inkpens · 11 months

Text

You Missed My Heart: PART 1

PART 1 LINK | PART 2 LINK | PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,107 Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.

I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”

Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.

Hot tears slid down my face.

I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.

I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.

Had someone been here?

Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?

I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.

The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.

I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.

Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.

The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.

I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.

I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.

No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.

Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.

I flinched at the reminder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”

“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.

“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”

“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”

“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.

“She should have died. I’m saving her.”

“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.

Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.

My Miguel.

He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.

What the hell?

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.

Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.

“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.

Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.

When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?

Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.

“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.

What the hell was this thing?

I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.

The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.

‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.

Miguel.

No. No. No.

Did I die?

Or did I finally go insane?

I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.

It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.

I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.

If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.

Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.

Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.

I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.

A deafening silence filled the room.

I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.

Then, I did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.

I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.

It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.

“Hello?” I called.

But I was all alone.

“Hello?” I screamed.

Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”

I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’

Miguel.

“What the fuck?” I screamed.

“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.

When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.

That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.

Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.

“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”

“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.

“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.

“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.

“What?”

“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”

I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.

“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.

“It’s our home.”

“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.

“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.

“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.

“Because I am him… in a way.”

“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”

“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”

“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”

“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”

“You’re insane.” I said.

“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”

“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”

“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”

Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”

“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.

“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”

His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”

“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?

Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.

Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.

I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.

“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.

“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”

He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.

“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.

He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.

“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.

“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.

“Miguel, please let me out.”

“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.

“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”

“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”

“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”

“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”

Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?

“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”

He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”

Bastard.

I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.

“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”

“It’s urgent.” She said.

It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.

“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.

“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.

“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.

I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.

My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.

There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.

I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.

Damn it, that hurt!

I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.

Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.

They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.

Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.

I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.

Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.

Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.

I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.

What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.

Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.

I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.

I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.

Lucky bastard.

He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.

I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.

I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.

I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.

He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.

“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.

“Nice outfit.”

“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”

A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”

“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.

He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.

“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.

“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.

“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.

“I feel sick.”

“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?

“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”

“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.

Tread lightly, I guess.

“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”

“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.

“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.

“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”

“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.

“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”

Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?

He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.

Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.

I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.

Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.

Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.

“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.

“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.

Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.

He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.

“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.

“Just decided that it looked better that way.”

“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”

“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.

“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.

“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”

“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.

“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”

Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.

“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.

“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”

“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”

“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.

“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.

“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”

“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”

“You love me.” He said.

“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.

“I have the right to know how she died.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.

He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.

He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.

“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.

“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”

“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.

“Lyla-“ he started.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.

So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.

“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.

“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.

He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.

“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.

“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.

“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.

“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.

Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.

“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.

He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.

He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.

Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.

His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”

“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.

A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.

“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.

God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.

I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.

“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.

Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.

He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.

He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.

He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”

“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.

“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.

“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.

“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.

Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.

“Miguel, please.”

“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.

Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.

I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.

“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.

Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.

He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.

“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.

“You’re such a showoff.”

“Am not.”

“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.

“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.

He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”

“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”

“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.

He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.

I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.

Fuck, he was good at this.

He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.

Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.

He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.

He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.

Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.

He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.

“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”

I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.

He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.

My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.

“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.

Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Miguel, what’s wrong?”

He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?

“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.

“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.

“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.

“Say it.”

“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.

“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.

“I love you.”

“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.

We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.

He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.

Fucking hell, Miguel.

With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.

His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.

Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.

He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.

“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.

“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Okay.”

“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”

I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.

After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.

He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.

It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”

“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.

“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?

“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.

“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.

“What are you wanting me to say?”

“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.

“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”

“That’s not an answer.” I said.

“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.

He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.

Was he fucking with me?

Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?

Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?

He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.

“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.

I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.

“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”

“Then stop feeling me up.”

“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.

“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.

It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.

Maybe they weren’t all that different.

I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.

Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.

I love you...

#miguel o'hara #Miguel Ohara smut #Miguel o'hara smut #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #Miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara x you #Miguel ohara imagines #Miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman99 smut #spider verse smut

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mylovelo-ak · 9 months

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meeting imbibitor lunae

pairing: dan heng x gn!reader

wc: 688

synopsis: it's been a while since dan heng left for xianzhou, and he came back looking different??

notes: established relationship; spoilers!!! wrote bc im stressed w school </3

"i don't know, himeko, i haven't been able to reach him for days."

himeko let out a light laugh before sipping at her tea.

"he's a strong guy, (name). i guarantee you he's fine."

it's been a while since you last saw dan heng on the astral express after he decided to go after the others on the xianzhou. and he hasn't been replying to your messages since. dan heng has always been quick to reply to you, so his silence was frankly, out of character.

you're worried he's been involved in something keeping him busy or in danger.

dan heng never told you anything about his life before the express, and he never mentioned anything about xianzhou. but his uncertain expression when the place was mentioned, was a dead giveaway that something must've happened before.

"well yes, but he's all alone there and—"

a loud noise cut you off, followed by march's excited voice exclaiming about something.

"well looks like they're back!" himeko smiled before getting up to greet the returning members. you follow suit, eager to see your stoic boyfriend.

your footsteps were hurried, and you only mumbled a quick hello to the rest and went straight to... dan heng?

"did xianzhou give you a voucher for a salon or something?"

dan heng looked different.

his hair was longer, ears pointed, and is that eyeliner?

"hello." was all he said as his eyes darted to look everywhere but straight at you. there was a faint blush on his cheeks, which you assume is a result of your staring.

"must've been a wild trip, huh?"

"so let me get this straight, you were reincarnated, then thrown out of xianzhou, and you're actually some former big shot over there?"

"something like that."

after slipping away from everyone, you and dan heng settled in your bed in your room. his head was nestled in your lap as you hand your back against the bed frame. it's a position you both resort to after a long day, or in this case, a week.

you were mindlessly toying with his hair, almost convinced it wasn't real. for not being in this form for so long, his hair was pretty smooth.

"can i braid your hair?" you asked, already separating strands because you knew what he was going to say. he hummed in response. he leaned into your touch and let himself relax.

it wouldn't be the first time that you've done this. he used to leave the express with tiny braids scattered in his hair.

you started at the part where his hair split into two directions. you figured it would be better to do two huge braids instead of potentially hurting his scalp by doing what you used to do when his locks were shorter.

it frustrated you a little since his position would make the braids turn out wonky and inconsistent, but it's been a long week for your poor lover, you'd rather he lie down and relax.

it took you a while to finish because you took so many breaks admiring dan heng, but eventually you did.

"hey, can you move so i can lie down with you?" you tapped his cheeks to grab his attention.

you waited but to no avail. dan heng was fast asleep on your lap. you took the time to properly look at him. he looked so different from the dan heng you first met. every feature felt amplified and a lot to take in.

you let curiosity take the best of you, tapping on the horns on his head. he frowned in his sleep. he shuffled a bit and you almost panicked that your tap woke him up. but he only moved to nuzzle further into your thigh.

he was still dan heng after all. a boy of a few words who rarely smiled unless it was with you. dan heng who loved to fall asleep on any part of you and would whine when you’d try to escape from his hug (he’d never admit to doing that when he’s awake though).

you'd endure your legs falling asleep anytime for this man.

#dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #honkai x reader #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x y/n #imbibitor lunae

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always-a-king-or-queen · 6 months

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C 👏 S 👏 LEWIS 👏 WAS 👏 NOT 👏 MISOGYNISTIC

IM SO SICK OF THIS TAKE

“But he said girls shouldn’t fight in battles—" No, actually. What he said was “Battles are ugly when women fight.” Which literally translates to “in a war where women are required to fight to help win it, it means the war itself is really bad.” And this literally just means that the war has gotten so bad that women have to fight, not that women shouldn’t fight. Just that they shouldn’t be forced to. Anyway, remember Lucy?? Lucy who rode to battle in The Horse and His Boy?? Lucy who fought as an archer?? “But Susan didn’t—" Yeah. Because she didn’t want to. No one was forcing her not to fight. She had free will to fight or to not fight, and she chose not to because she didn’t want to, not because a man made her stay home.

“He punished Susan for growing up—" S i g h. This is the one I see the most often. “He did Susan dirty” “he made her suffer because she liked lipstick” “etc etc blah blah blah” First of all Narnia is a children’s book series. For CS Lewis to delve into why Susan forgot Narnia, talk about her dealing with the death of her entire family, discuss her grief, and write about her eventual return to Narnia (more on that in a second), it would’ve made for a pretty dark and heavy children’s book, and Lewis said that he didn’t think that was something he wanted to write. But he also encouraged people to finish Susan’s story themselves, and said she might eventually make her own way back to Narnia. Not only this, but Susan’s name means lily, and the waters around Aslan’s country are covered in lilies. Coincidence? I think not. I think it symbolizes she was going to go back. (Especially considering I think Lewis was very careful in choosing each of the Pevensie’s names, since they all relate to their character).

Also, Lewis did not condemn Susan simply for growing up and liking makeup and clothing and boys. If so why would he have written about Aravis and Shasta/Cor, or Caspian and Liliandil? Why would he have written about Susan and Lucy being beautiful and having many suitors? So no, he wasn’t condemning her for that, and in fact he wasn’t condemning her at all. It’s extremely probable that her family’s death would have brought Susan back to her senses. Because here’s the thing: she forgot. She threw herself so much into the world and approval and convinced herself that her life as a queen and her acquaintance with Aslan was all a silly game they played as children, that it wasn’t real. But, she very well could remember again, and I 1000% believe she did.

“All his female characters were weak and did nothing—" My friend. Lucy Pevensie was a female. She discovered Narnia. It was because of her. Her siblings would never have found it without her. Lucy is one of THE most important characters in the entire series. And her title? The Valiant. Lucy’s very title as queen denoted her bravery and fortitude without one even knowing her. As for Susan, she was not any weaker for being “The Gentle.” I would say gentleness is honestly one of the strongest traits a person can have, because it takes a lot to live and be gentle. Also remember Aravis? A major character in The Horse and His Boy and future wife of Shasta, Aravis literally nearly killed herself to escape an arranged marriage. She was not someone to be dictated to; she made her own choices and escaped rather than submitting. And in the end, she’s still fiery, just a little more humble and with less of a chip on her shoulder. Then there’s Polly, who is the more logical person in The Magician’s Nephew and tries to stop Digory from ringing the bell that wakes the White Witch. A boy causes her to awaken, not a girl. It was Digory’s fault she woke up, not Polly’s!!

Also, Peter and Edmund do not ignore their sisters because they’re girls. They listen to what they have to say and speak to them as equals. They don’t forbid them from fighting; Susan chooses not to, but Lucy goes straight into the heart of the battle with them! So don’t even say Lewis made his female characters weak. They were the backbone of much of the series and without them much of the plot would never have happened!!

So don’t you ever say to me that CS Lewis was misogynistic because it’s the furthest thing from the truth

#I REALIZED I ACCIDENTALLY TYPED JILL INSTEAD OF POLLY #IF YOU SEE THAT PRETEND IT SAYS POLLY #cs Lewis #narnia #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #Polly plummer #aravis tarkheena #the chronicles of narnia #I could’ve mentioned Jill but it was long enough #ramblings from the void

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goldenwilliamson · 5 months

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keeping it casual | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: inspired by the song casual by chappel roan - a must listen for all the queer girlies who have been in confusing situationships. it sucks.

summary: reader and leah become friends w benefits, but reader wants more. leah is very clear however on the fact that she wants to keep things casual. miscommunication, a little angsty, little fluffy, and little smutty (if you squint).

word count: 2000

There was no denying your feelings for Leah. Of course you’d always been attracted to her, that’s how you ended up in this friends with benefits, no strings attached situation in the first place. However you had both made it abundantly clear from the start that you wanted this to be casual. You weren’t looking for a relationship, and from what Leah said, neither was she. It was casual sex, and that was that. Except now the lines were blurring between something casual and something real, and you didn’t know what to do about it.

What began as late night hook ups has turned into essentially living in each others houses, sleeping in the same bed every night, driving to and from training together, and from the outside it would appear you two were in a happy relationship. Everyone could see the way you two lit up around each other. But everyone also knew that Leah didn't have a reputation as a monogamist, and that raised concerns among some of your team mates. Namely, Beth Mead who pulled you aside one day for a conversation that became much more serious than you had anticipated.

‘What’s happening with you and Leah, darling?’ She asked you and you smiled.

‘I don’t know, it’s all a bit confusing to be honest,’ you admitted, shrugging your shoulders.

‘Y/N, you shouldn’t have to be confused. I really wish Leah would just grow up and be ready for a relationship, she shouldn’t be stringing you along like this,’ Beth said, and your defences shot up.

‘She’s not stringing me along,’ you said bluntly, ‘This was a mutual choice, we both went into this wanting nothing more than something casual.’

‘But don’t you want more than that? I can see it in the way you look at her that you really have feelings for her. I just don’t want you to get hurt,’ Beth said pleadingly, surprising you that she would come to you to try and persuade you out of this situation with Leah.

‘I can appreciate where you’re coming from, but I’m a big girl Beth, and so is Leah. Whatever happens I can deal with, but for now it’s good. You don’t have to worry,’ you told her and she nodded slightly, though you could sense that she wasn’t convinced.

The conversation ended there however, and you went back to training. That night when you and Leah went back to her flat, you wound up pressed together, trying to taste every inch of each other. While you rested your back against the headboard, Leah worked her magic between your legs, using her tongue in all the right ways to get you off. This is it, you thought, it’s just sex. But the way that Leah holds you and falls asleep with her face against your neck makes you think about your chat with Beth. Because not only do you want the obscenely good sex, but you want the cuddles, you want the late night conversations, and the waking up together. You want the inside jokes, and the stolen glances on the pitch. But deep down, most of all you want to know that Leah is all yours, yet that’s the one thing that you know you won’t get.

When you woke up the next morning you brought it up with Leah, in a subtle way, deciding to tell her how Beth had pulled you aside.

‘Beth doesn’t understand not wanting to be in a relationship, because she’s always in one,’ Leah had told you plainly.

‘Yeah,’ you agreed meekly, not sure how to digest that fact that Leah was still telling you that she didn’t want to be in a relationship.

While at the beginning you were on the same page, now her refusal to be exclusive feels like a knife in the heart. Because you had given Leah the best of you, and she still didn’t want to be with you, and that felt personal.

Despite all the feelings arising on your end, you two continued your pattern, living in each others pockets and sleeping together, but not putting a label on it. Now you were even attending Williamson Wednesday’s as you had dubbed it. The one night a week where Leah and her family all went round to her Nan’s house for dinner and board games. You had wondered what this meant for your relationship, regularly spending time with her family. In front of them she never tried to hide the fact that you guys were romantically involved either, she would gladly take your hand, or let her arm settle around your shoulders or waist, even steal a kiss. Leah’s own mother Amanda had praised you privately in the kitchen one night, thanking you for making her daughter so happy. And yet, her daughter remained certain that she didn’t want a relationship.

At this stage you were starting to feel disillusioned by it all. You started really questioning how on earth Leah could truly believe anything about your relationship was ‘casual’.

It all came to a head one night when you were out at an event together. You two were ready to walk down the carpet to get photos taken and Leah had planted her hand on your lower back, initiating that you two would walk together.

‘We wouldn’t want the press thinking we’re a couple now, would we?’ You said sharply, stepping away from her and choosing to walk first by yourself. You were tired of the mixed signals, and when you looked back at Leah you could see that you’d shocked her.

When you got to the end and walked on through to the next room Leah came quickly to your side, ‘Have I done something?’ she asked in a low murmur.

You settled your rising emotions with a breath and then turned to face her, ‘I just didn’t think you would want to be photographed with me by your side, seeing as you’re pretty adamant about how you don’t want to be in a relationship with me.’

‘Woah, where’s all this coming from?’ Leah said, stepping back slightly and holding her hands up innocently.

‘Forget it, let’s just get through the night,’ you say, putting it to bed for now.

Instead of spending the night with Leah, like you’d want to, you let yourself socialise and catch up with people who you hadn’t seen in a while. However you mind never strays from the blonde girl who you’ve completely fallen for. You’ve tried to push your feelings away, and tell yourself to just enjoy it for what it is, but you can’t do it anymore. You decide to leave early, ordering yourself an uber home, rather than using the car organised to transport you and Leah. In the back seat the emotions overcome you, and the tears finally fall. You begin to process how much you truly do feel for Leah, and you start to feel like an idiot for allowing her to just use you for sex for this long.

When you get home you can’t even bare to look at yourself in the mirror to remove your makeup. You just clumsily step out of your dress and crawl into bed, feeling lonelier than ever. Your pillows muffle the sound of you crying as your body shakes in the sheets. Hoping sleep will find you soon, you close your eyes and try to think about anything else. It’s no use but, your mind completely revolves around one person now, and the fact that she doesn’t feel the same way only makes you feel worse.

After what must be about an hour of wallowing, you hear your front door creak open and close and the click of heels on your floorboards downstairs. You know immediately who it is and you keep your eyes firmly shut, trying to stable yourself mentally for all this to come to an end.

You’re laying with your back to the door when she enters the room, her presence bringing with it an energy that never fails to fill you up with love and affection.

‘Hey,’ she says gently, stepping closer to the bed until she kicks off her shoes and pulls off her blazer then crawls under the covers herself, wrapping her body around yours and holding you against her. The tears come again and you find yourself silently crying.

‘Baby, please talk to me, what’s going on in that head of yours?’ Leah pleads, affectionately planting kisses into your hair as she runs her hands over your body. As much as you wish you didn’t, you relax into her touch, while your mind continues it’s internal battle about whether or not you should bring all this up.

‘I can’t do this Leah,’ you say, spinning around. She releases her grip on you and pushes your hair out of your face so she can see you properly.

‘Can’t do what?’ Her eyebrows knit together and her lips are slightly parted, trying to process the night.

‘I don’t know why I let this go on so long,’ you can’t even look at her, because seeing her face makes you want to forget about how you feel and let everything continue as it has been. You roll your face into the pillow, groaning and wishing this could be different.

‘You don’t want to be with me anymore?’ Leah echoes the information she is receiving back to you.

‘No,’ your voice is muffled by the pillows as you make your admission, ‘I want to be with you, that’s the problem, because you don’t want to be with me.’

Leah examines you carefully, smoothing down your hair as she tries to find the right words.

She speaks slowly when she does, allowing all the words to sink in, 'Y/N, of course I want to be with you, I thought I was following your lead with this whole friends with benefits thing.'

'What?' You turn to face her as you remember all the times she made it very clear she did not want to be with you.

'I would’ve made you my girlfriend right away, but you told me you weren’t looking for anything serious. I want to be with you, I thought you were the one who didn’t want a relationship,' she says, shaking her head, realising how this was a serious error in communication from both of you.

'Are you kidding me? I thought this whole thing was on your terms, and it was just about the sex for you,' you say.

'Are you blind?' Leah scoffs, smiling, 'You’ve basically moved in to my house, you come with me to visit my family every week, I thought I was making it obvious that I want you to be a part of my life.'

You smile at yourself now, feeling silly for not having just had this conversation sooner, 'Why didn’t you just say something?'

'Because I was scared! You always seemed a bit off about it all, but now I can see why,' she says, looking you deep in the eyes like she is finally understanding you in a new way.

'We both should have said something then,' you say and Leah nods.

'I can’t believe you would think I would use you just for sex, what am I, a man?' She says in sarcastic shock.

'You didn’t say otherwise!' You quip back.

'Well I guess I did want to keep having sex with you, that’s why I didn’t say anything,' she shrugs.

'Me too,' you smile.

'But you know this is so much more than sex, even though that’s also really great,' Leah says, letting her hand rest on the side of your face.

'It is for me too. I want everything with you,' you say, feeling like you’re stepping off a cliff, falling into a new part of your life. A life with Leah.

'So do I. I love you, Y/N, so much,' she says and you eliminate the short distance between your faces, kissing her gently.

'I love you too,' you say, resting your forehead against her as you pull back. Leah closes the gap now, kissing you again, and again.

‘So does this make you my girlfriend, then?’ She mumbles between kisses as your hands roam over her waist and thighs trying to take off her outfit.

'It better,' you say, not wasting a moment before connecting your lips back to her skin, just to make sure she knows just how much you’ve been waiting for this moment.

#woso community #leah williamson #awfc #leah williamson x reader #lionesses x reader #woso x reader #woso #arsenal women #lionesses

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ghstzzn · 28 days

Text

entombed | jeong yunho

pairing: jeong yunho x f!reader wc: 3.3k

summary: a demon of your past casually takes what's his, which is you.

warnings/tags: smut, porn with almost zero plot, demon yunho, unprotected sex, oral (f) rec., rough sex, public sex (in an office during after hours), pet names (baby, angel) multiple orgasms, can't think of anything else.

note: this is a re-upload from my deleted account, yunho-mp3, so if it seems very familiar - that is why lol. this is still one of the few things i've written that i loveeeee so much.

The rain pours, cracks of thunder here and there, never startling you though. In fact, it brought some sort of comfort to you, it gave you a sense of realness, as if everything around you were fake. Like if living and breathing were but a chore. Yes, that was the only way you could describe it.

You felt like a weed in a beautiful garden. Poisoned, ripped out - but never at the root, and stomped on. But here you were, sitting straight up as you finished your report for work. Your glasses nearly slipping off the tip of your nose as you type away on your computer, like you were on autopilot. You entrust the workload to your hands as they abuse every letter on the keyboard.

Not a soul remained in the quiet office. They’ve gone home to their families - their children, their loved ones, or maybe out with their friends while they try to digest ungodly amounts of alcohol. You could be doing the same, yes, you had friends and family, but your feet stayed planted to the floor of the office building.

You were happy with life, beyond happy. It felt as if you had everything. He was in your life then too, but it was different then. He hadn’t had as much of an impact as he does now. Your escapades with the man never haunted you as much as they did now. They were harmless, they were innocent one (or multiple) one night stands, you knew almost nothing about him. All you knew was that he “traveled” and little things, like how he liked his coffee & eggs, or how he loved deep conversations with you that lasted hours before you fucked until the sun rose, or how he would never be there when you woke up again. No note. No text. Nothing. As if he were never there. Only the smell of cigarettes and liquor remained in your cold, empty bed.

Jeong Yunho, the man you once felt safe with despite knowing it was but casual sex after bar meetups. You had your suspicions about him. They were mostly him having an affair with you, but you knew something was wrong and this would end horribly.

And it did. Or so you thought.

You brought it up after a lustful night, trying your best to keep your eyes open. You questioned where he went, why he was so secretive, why he refused to give you a number and why he spoke in poems. You asked why you had to rely on coincidental bar meetups, in which he showed up with a group of people and why the customers in the bar didn’t spare him a single glance. In the midst of it all, you confessed your love for him. Maybe that's where it snapped.

He laughed at you. Said you were perfect, adorable even. Tears welled up in his eyes as he laughed at you. It took five minutes for him to compose himself before he confessed. Not love. Not anything you’d expect, no, he confessed his sins to you.

Yunho confessed the number of people he’s slaughtered, the people he's tortured. He confessed ripping families apart for the hell of it, just because he can, and because of his purpose. The sacrifices, the blood, the worship. Hell, he called himself the devil and wore the title proudly. The man you confessed your love to ran a fucking cult and the worst part about it is that your feelings didn’t fade, you had just wished you didn’t ask.

Ignorance is bliss.

He disappeared that night. You haven’t seen Yunho since that night. Honestly, you couldn’t sleep for weeks as you were convinced he would come back just to kill you. It would only make sense, as he did confess to horrid crimes you never once assumed he was capable of doing. But still, you were at war with yourself and your morals. How could you still love him? To yearn for him every night before bed? You question your sanity. The man left you to rot in fear, watching your own back constantly. Jolting awake to every noise you heard in your apartment.

Yet, you still missed the sweet scent he left on your pillows the months before now. Missing the soft scent of alcohol and cigarettes mixed with honey and sandalwood. You missed his voice, his accent and the way his voice lowered through the night whether it was sweet nothings he whispered into your ears or when he told you about the passions no one knew of as you stargazed.

You weren’t the only one at battle with yourself either. Yunho condemned himself. He hated himself for going back to you for a second night at the bar. Absolutely despised himself for letting his rotting heart open up to you during those nights. But most importantly, he despised you. He hated you, he wanted to wrap his hands around your throat and end your life right then and there. But it wasn’t because of who he was, and what you knew he was. It was because he loved you, because he let himself become addicted to you. He let himself feel things for you he was never supposed to feel and he could only hate you for that. Even on nights like this, all he can think about is you.

The rain never let up - a perfect metaphor for you. You continue to let your fingers work their magic on the computer in front of you. Ruining your eyes in the dark room. Your teeth abused your bottom lip while a certain man abused your mind. You hear a beep at the entrance of your office, you think nothing of it as it could be another overtime victim or the security guard making his rounds (though the old man was sure to scold you if so). When you don’t hear any footsteps to follow the sound of the door slamming shut, you look up from your computer screen.

You shoot up from your desk chair, it rolls back, hitting the desk behind you with a thud. Your heart pounds as Yunho stands just feet away from you. The moonlight, along with the light from a few stray computers left on open documents lit up his body just enough for you to take in the man standing before you. It would be wrong to call him beautiful in such a moment as this. But he was. You couldn’t deny it, it’s what drew your heart towards him anyway. You couldn’t decipher if your heart was pounding in fear or if it were pounding in yearning for Yunho.

“Angel.” Your body flinches. Air caught in your throat as he speaks the pet name for you in his deep voice. You wonder where he was before this. Ending lives? Taking souls for himself if he were the devil he claims to be? Even so, you wonder why he left you, and why didn’t stay in your arms all these past nights.

He steps towards you and you take a step back. He only smirks at the reaction your body gave. You fight off every instinct to run into his arms. Your mind and body are at war with each other as you continue to step backwards with every step he takes towards you.

“Why do you run, angel?” Yunho questions, he still advances towards you. You start to run out of room behind you, but you don’t know that.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” You try your best to ask the question with a sturdy voice, not letting emotions take over. He cannot win. Yet. “How did you find me, Yunho?”

Your upper thighs are met with the hard desk behind you and Yunho is a mere foot from you, closing the distance between you at a painfully slow pace. You want to run, but stupidly enough you choose to stay.

“My heart follows only you, of course I know where you are.” He replies, a wide smile planted on his face. “I always know where you are.”

Yunho stands in front of you know, his breath hitting your forehead as he speaks. He lifts a hand, twirling your hair through his fingers as he admires every inch of your face.

“I've missed you dearly.” His voice barely above a whisper. Your words get caught in your throat. Missed you? The same man that left you empty, alone and confused missed you?

“You don’t get to say that, Yunho. Where were you?” You match his tone as you speak. “You left me..”

His hand falls on your cheek, cupping it with enough strength to force your head up at him but not enough to hurt you. You unwillingly fall into his touch, your body yearning for his comfort once again.

“My sweet girl has missed me too,” Yunho starts, “stupidly enough, you miss me just as much. I’m here now, that means something, right?”

“It.. it doesn’t.” You reply, a loss of words as you try to come up with what to say to the man in front of you.

The man that left you for months, making you feel inhumane, questioning your own soul. You should be screaming at him, running away from him. You could at least tell him to get the fuck away from you, but you stay planted in the same spot, melting into his touch.

Yunho's eyes battle on what to focus on, going back and forth from your eyes to your lips. His body subconsciously leaning into yours, breath fanning your face. He watches your eyes share the same struggle as his. You want him just as badly, and he knows it. It makes him smile. The way you so easily submit to him, it's endearing, really. Yunho adores you, and you give him every single reason to keep adoring you.

He can now. There’s nothing stopping him, and he won't let anything stop him again.

“Please.” You breathe out. And with just that one word from you, his lips are connected to yours.

The kiss burns with passion, your lips dance a fiery dance as they melt into each other. It’s not long before he’s biting your lip, making you gasp so he can slip his tongue in yours. A fight of dominance, one that he wins again. Maybe one day he could let you take the reins on him, but for now, he needed you in any way he could have you. It wasn’t in his plans to take you in your office, but it doesn’t matter. It will be your last night stepping foot in this building. Maybe it was better you ended up here, the security cameras pointed at your breathless bodies tearing at each other's clothing as he claimed you for himself.

Your mind is foggy as Yunho rips open your blouse, buttons landing in various places as he attacks your neck and chest. Biting and sucking on the most sensitive parts of your skin. Your hands find themselves gripping at his hair for stability. The moans of his name only encourage him to go deeper. He lowers himself, planting kisses on your stomach, looking into your eyes and he bites and tugs at your skin, soaking in your yelps and whines.

Yunho drops to his knees, hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he searches your eyes for anything. When he finds the answer he needs, he's tugging your slacks down with such force that you almost fall on top of him, only saved by him slamming you back against the desk. One hand flys on top of the desk behind you and the other on top of Yunho's head, raking your fingers through his hair before grabbing a handful to keep your body stable.

His breath fans your clothed core, which is dripping in sweet arousal that Yunho can so clearly smell from a mile away. The scent that started his addiction with you. He yanks your underwear down in one brief movement, not wasting a single second in between before diving himself into your folds. Tongue attacking your clit with force that almost folds your body in half, practically screaming his name. He spreads your legs enough to slip two fingers inside of you, not bothering to start small. Yunho's goal was to pleasure you and prepare you, as he has always done, but this time more desperately.

He needed you badly, skin aching to touch you once more. His fingers pump and curl inside you at a fast pace that has your knees shaking while his tongue darts and swirls at your sensitive nub. If your vision hadn’t gone foggy and you were paying close attention, you could see Yunho's eyes turn black, with no life behind them.

“Fuck- Yunho, please.” You moan out. His fingers remain inside you, pumping at a pace that only makes you roll your eyes back, he pulls his mouth away.

“God, how I’ve missed your sweet taste.” Yunho kisses your inner thighs, you only yearn for his touch where you need him the most. “You haven’t fucked anyone else, I can tell. You belong to me, huh? This sweet cunt of yours is all mine for the taking?”

Your body heats up and you clench at his words. His fingers stop, urging you to answer. Yunho has always liked when you responded to his filthy words in bed.

“Y-yes! All for you, Yunho. Please.. M-more.”

He smirks against your skin, returning the brutal pace of his fingers. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, reaching new spots in your core. He dives back into your wetness, the force of his tongue has you leaning back onto the messy desk behind you. Not caring of the mess you were making in the owner's area. Both hands are now in Yunho's hair as he eats you out like a starved man.

A familiar warmth pools in your lower half as he continues to abuse your clit and hole. You pull on his hair, making him groan right into you. He leaves a harsh slap to your ass, snapping that rope leading to your orgasm. Your body trembles as you come on to his fingers and tongue, but his pace never relents. He continues until he's satisfied.

“Yunho- fuck, it’s t-too much. Oh my god- too much!” You almost scream. The warmth pooling back into your stomach already, not even being minutes since your first orgasm. He adds a third finger and you scream out his name.

Your thighs close around his head as he brings forth another orgasm, you pull his hair, trying your hardest to push him away from your overstimulated area. He pulls back, a smile so wide you could only assume he achieved his goal.

Yunho pulls his fingers out of you, you pant as he stands to his full height. Grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, he sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you suck.

“Taste yourself, pretty angel of mine? That’s all you.” He coos. You stare into his eyes, his black eyes. Lost in the pleasure, you couldn’t possibly bring yourself to be concerned over it. Technically, he did warn you.

He replaces his fingers with his lips once more. He quickly unbuckled his jeans, yanking them down with his underwear to free his aching cock. Yunho hooks his arms under your thighs, rubbing his length against your soaked core. Making your body shutter at the action.

“Fuck. Y/N, you don’t know how badly I’ve needed to be inside you.” He groans into your ear. “How bad I’ve needed you these past few months. Just wanna fuck you and never stop.”

“Please, please just- need you inside, Yunho.” You whine, bucking your hips for any friction his cock can give.

“Mmh, I’m not the only one who’s been needy, huh?”

Yunho tucks your hair out of your face. “So fucked out and I haven’t even properly fucked you.”

You throw your head into his shoulder as he slides into you. Not sparing you a second before he's already pulling out and slamming back into you. Yunho suddenly lifts you into his arms, bringing you to a different table, an emptier table that he can lay you down on. He takes your hands and pins them above your head before ramming into you once more.

He speeds his pace up, fucking into you with enough force that the table below you creaks. Yunho lets go of your hands to grip your waist, bringing your body to meet his as he fucks you. He grunts and groans, throwing his head back in pleasure. You didn’t even notice when he got rid of his shirt.

“S’fucking perfect. Like you were made to take my cock.” Yunho grunts out. “Wanna fuck you so full.”

You only scream and moan his name. His pace only quickens and you can feel your third orgasm approach you.

“Cum on my cock, angel.”

You tighten around him before releasing over him once more. Your body shakes and you can barely catch your breath. He pulls out suddenly, flipping you over, giving you a second to recover as he rubs your ass cheeks before giving them a smack.

“Just one more, baby.” He pleads from behind.

“Yunho- I, so much-”

“One more, I promise. Then we can leave forever. Together.”

You don’t push on that, you only nod and he enters you again. Returning his brutal thrusts from before but this time as a new angle. You wonder how he could have so much restraint from cumming, but he is inhuman afterall. Or so it seems.

Your body flattens against the table top as he fucks into you with so much strength that the table rocks back and forth. You yelp and moan his name loudly as he does so. The office room is silent other than the cries from both you and Yunho and skin slapping. Yunho continues the brutal pace but soon his thrusts turn sloppier by the second.

“Fuck- baby, I’m close.” He chokes out, leaning forwards to catch himself on the table. “Cum with me again, angel, I know you can.”

He reaches a hand around, rubbing circles in your already sensitive clit. It doesn’t take long for your final orgasm to reach you.

“Yes, just like that. Cum for me, show me one more time how good I’m fucking you.”

The band inside you snaps once more as you come, with so much force that your body falls limp as you pant against the table. Within a few more thrusts, Yunho comes inside of you. White ropes of cum filling your walls for what it seems like a full minute. He pulls out and rests against your body, both catching your breaths and trying to regain your stamina.

Moments pass before he’s helping you turn over, wiping up your legs with spare tissues left on one of the nearby desks.

“You think you can walk?” He asks as he pulls your slacks back up over your legs. You nod.

“I think so, maybe with a bit of help.” You reply. “By the way, your eyes.. They are-”

“Black? Baby, I told you what I was months ago, don’t act so ignorant.”

Yunho straightens out, already fully dressed, as he covers your chest with your torn blouse. He stares into your eyes, with what you could only hope is with love.

“Let’s go,” He takes your hand in his, “We have a car waiting.”

“Where are we going?” You ask, leaning into his hold.

“Away. Won't you come with? We’ll be together forever.” He questions, but he knows the answer already. He knows you would follow him to the ends of the Earth if he asked.

“Of course, Yunho. Until the end.” He smiles, almost sadistically. You were his, forever.

Yunho takes your hand up to his mouth, planting a kiss on the back of it.

“Oh, you will. You’re nothing but mine, for eternity.”

#interlude-ateez 🎬#yunho x reader #interlude-yunho ☆#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x female reader #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #yunho fanfic #yunho x y/n

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