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of-cauldrons-and-inkpens · 1 year

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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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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance.

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy.

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless.

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one.

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death.

But it was closure.

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted.

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room.

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video.

It felt fresh. New. Clean.

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months.

At first, he dreamt of death.

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance.

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red.

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes.

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before.

It didn’t even really look like a gate.

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods.

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean.

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms.

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth.

Pomegranates.

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home.

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them.

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of.

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there.

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up.

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too.

He knew her. He knew her.

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before.

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you.

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it.

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap.

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came.

You were always alone.

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work.

Not yet, anyway.

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back.

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm.

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet.

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night.

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really.

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes.

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security.

Safety - an unknown feeling.

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place.

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too.

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it.

Then one night, he saw himself.

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked.

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up.

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm.

Safe.

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be.

Certainly not 1988.

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before.

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting.

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello.

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright.

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy.

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper.

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia.

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get.

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before.

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you.

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one.

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep.

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington.

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee.

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate.

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit.

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington au

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adultbabystories · 6 months

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Sticky Pants - Part A

When someone sees you, he may think you started to wear diapers because you wet yourself. Now it may be true, but it’s not why you started. It’s not why Daddy decided to make this translation for you, whether you liked it or not.

Daddy had enough of catching you touching yourself. When you were alone. When he was in the house and you were in another room. Even once when there were guests in the house and you forgot to lock the bathroom door. One gentleman only wanted to wash his hands after dinner and he had to watch you being naughty. Daddy had enough.

That gentleman told Daddy that from his experience, the best thing naughty boys need is to “Lock them up”, as you heard him telling Daddy that evening after the incident.

A week after, Daddy called you to come sit next to him. He explained he was done with your behavior. He took down your shorts and tighty whities, and with a swift motion locked your flaccid penis.

“I knew small was the right size.” he chuckled and fisted your shoulder.

You were shocked and red from embarrassment.

The chastity device, or as Daddy liked to call it, “Cage”, became your new reality. You were so horny but couldn’t do anything about it. You missed touching yourself so much. The frustration grew stronger every day. One morning you woke up to find out you had a wet dream. You panicked and threw away the underwear because you were afraid Daddy would find out. Since that morning, pre cum in your tighty whities was a regular thing. You couldn’t help it, it was just pouring out.

One evening the same gentleman who gave Daddy that horrible advice came to dinner again. When you sat in front of him, waves of shame and resentment were pulsing inside of you towards that man. You hated him for what he’d done to you. All those awful emotions were stirring up something inside of you and in your pants. You were throbbing in your cage. You couldn’t look at the man because when you did, your cage was closing on you even more. You asked to be excused from the table, which Daddy granted. When you were standing up, all of you were visible, including your gray sweatpants.

“Awwww did your boy have an accident?” the man smiled.

“What?” Daddy asked as he was coming back from the kitchen.

“We got a clear case of ‘Sticky Pants’” the man laughed and pointed.

“Come here!” Daddy raised his voice at you.

You walked towards him. He took your wrist in his hand and lifted it so you won’t hide what happened. With his other hand, he swatted your rear, like you were just a bad boy. All that, in front of that man.

“What am I gonna do with you? Huh?! What I’m going to do with him? I knew you were ruining your tighty whities for a while now, isn’t it right? Such a bad boy, and in front of our guest.” Daddy was mad.

“Well, There is a solution for keeping Sticky Pants dry.” the man said and winked at you.

“I’m listening…” Daddy said as he sat down in his chair, forcing you to sit on his lap when you were on the verge of crying.

#StickyPants #short abs

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inadaydream99 · 1 month

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Idiotically in Love Stray Kids

A/N - I just couldn’t help but think about the little things that they would do or the way they may act when being so in love with someone…

Disclaimer: This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Anything I’ve missed, please let me know!

Idiotically in love Chan who…

Confessed to you by accident because his jealousy got the better of him. He couldn’t stand seeing you get hit on by another guy and you clearly weren’t enjoying it. But he was controlling himself because you’re an adult and can handle your own situations… until the guy started getting a bit too close for comfort. Chan had stormed over and scooped you into his arms before either of you could register what was happening. Leaning down, he whispered into your ear to trust him, waiting for you to nod your agreement before crashing his lips into yours. Let’s just say that the guy was long gone by the time you broke the kiss for air.

Pulls you into a secluded corner of the room so he can hold you just like he has been dying to do all night. It’d been torture watching you from afar and all he has wanted to do is get away from everyone so he can spend time with you.

Calls you at 2am when he’s stressed with work and everything seems to be going wrong. But just hearing your voice on the other end, softly distracting him with how your day went or what you both want to do on your next date night helps his tense shoulders to slump and his mind to finally simmer down.

Pats his lap and tells you to sit down. He’s got the most sheepish look on his face as your attention turns to him. Instinctively, he sinks back further into the sofa behind him and opens his arms wide for you to cuddle into his embrace, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as a reward of doing as he asked.

Always walks on the outside of the sidewalk when he’s with you. And - if for any reason - he finds that you’re somehow on the side closest to the cars, he will take you by the wrist and manoeuvre you to the other side.

Idiotically in love Minho who…

Just loves to call you kitty. Be it affectionately or sarcastically. He mostly just uses the name because he likes the way your cheeks turn the tiniest bit pink upon hearing it roll off his tongue. “I didn’t realise you were such a bad kitty.” “Aw kitty come here.”

Gets excited to have you in his arms but will rarely admit it. He just loves the way you snuggle into him, fitting so perfectly against his chest and acting like a human hot water bottle to keep him warm.

Can’t remember how or why the unspoken rules between you came to be, but it would feel wrong not to do them when given the chance. Like the unspoken rule of Minho always kissing your nose before you fall asleep, or how you instinctively hold his hand while crossing the road because you know he stresses when it’s busy. His favourite is whenever you hug him, you never complain about his hands grabbing your butt and if you have back pockets then he’s definitely putting his hands inside and keeping them there so you can’t pull away.

Calls you an idiot all the time but you both know that really stands for “I love you.” It started because of a silly little argument you were having. He was purposefully refusing to say I love you back to you and it was pissing you off. In the end, after you’d given him the silent treatment, he’d approached you with “you know you’re an idiot, of course I love you.”

Never believed in love at first sight until he saw you. It’s like his whole world was flipped upside down and he knew right there and then that you were going to be a huge part of his life.

Idiotically in love Changbin who…

Didn’t realise he’d fallen for you until he’d had a dream about kissing you. He woke up shook becuase… where did that come from??? But then it became all he could think about. Little by little, it dawned on him how much the two of you already acted like a couple just without the title. And that’s actually how he chose to confess to you. By telling people exactly that when they asked but by adding a “yet…” onto the end and smirking at you.

Loves to sneak up behind you while you’re preoccupied to cage you in a back hug. Resting his chin on your shoulder, his strong arms holding you so tenderly.

Calls you just to hear your voice. He loves the light rasp it has when he calls you first thing in the morning, still laced with sleep and your brain clearly a little foggy.

Always looks at you after doing something funny to see your reaction. He lives to make you smile and laugh and so, especially when in a group of people, Changbin will instantly find you amongst the group to make sure you found him funny. Yours is the only reaction he cares about and it warms his heart to see you so elated because of him.

Can’t help but to use cheesy pick up lines on you at least once a day. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, Changbin just loves to flirt with you.

Idiotically in love Hyunjin who…

Fell in love with you without realising. Really, Minho should take credit for your relationship happening becuase it was his no-nonsense talking that made Hyunjin finally realise how he felt about you. After all, everyone except Hyunjin could see that he was in love with you, from the way he always wanted to partner with you when needing a buddy and then insisting that holding hands is the number one rule of the buddy system, to moping around like crazy when the group had to go away on schedules and he wouldn’t be able to see you for however long (apparently one time he wouldn’t stop saying things like “y/n wouldn’t have made me do this…” or “y/n would have shared with me…”)

Longingly looks for you in the crowded room because he can’t stand all the people he’s having to speak with just to be socially polite. All he wants is to escape with you to somewhere where he can be himself.

Adores the inside jokes that crack both of you up with a single knowing look but no one else understands. Your minds are just wired the same way, and so you find all the silliest, most random things hilarious.

Calls you his pretty mess becuase your hair is always like a birds nest when you wake up in the mornings. The first time you’d stayed overnight at his and woke to him teasing you about your bed head you were mortified. But, in truth, Hyunjin found it so adorable. He loves that you are both real in your relationship and don’t try to upkeep a perfect image around each other.

Does this thing where he tilts your chin up to look at him so your eyes lock into a deep gaze. It’s so intense that you forget how to breathe, mouth falling agape as he continues to slowly inch your faces closer together. Always stops when your lips are ghosting, waiting for the little whine of impatience you make before finally kissing you like your lives depend on it.

Idiotically in love Jisung who…

Realised he was in love with you when one of your mutual friends had confided in him about their feelings for you. It was the burning jealousy ignited inside of Jisung from just the thought of you being with someone other than him that made him think… hang on a minute, they’re mine.

Confessed to you by calling you first thing the next morning and asking to meet him for breakfast. When you said that you could he immediately responded with “it’s a date.” And then when on said breakfast date, he’d come clean about your mutual friends feelings towards you and how he’d respect your choice either way, but that he just had to let you know how he feels too. It’s safe to say he was surprised when you’d leaned over to him and shyly given him a peck on the lips as your answer.

Hasn’t seen you all day and all he wants is to kiss you. He doesn’t care who’s around or if you’re meant to be somewhere else. He wants - no needs - to make up for lost time.

Can’t get you out of his head. It’s like everything makes him think of you. He walks past a stall selling flowers and remembers your favourite. Or he is in a different country and sees an old couple walking hand in hand and thinks about how one day that will be the both of you.

Is always there for you no matter what. He’s a blabber mouth with most things but when it comes to you, if you asked him to keep something between the two of you, he would take it to the grave. His priority is making sure you know you can tell him anything and that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and loved.

Idiotically in love Felix who…

Lost his phone and his first panicked thought was not being able to contact you.

Always asks about your day, every day without fail. He loves to know that you’ve eaten properly, slept well or done something productive/ social when he’s not been around.

Realised that the need for him to know you were always happy and safe was because he had fallen for you. It had happened so seamlessly that he hadn’t noticed until the possibility of you not being around so much made him feel less motivated.

Confessed to you by asking if it would be weird if he kissed you. Which was probably the most endearing thing you’ve ever witnessed in your life. Of course, you didn’t hesitate in telling him that, yes, he could kiss you. And Felix is so glad he did because wow, nothing had ever felt more right to him than the feeling of his lips on yours.

Realises now that he’d been such a fool all of those times he’d denied the two of you being a couple when asked by others if you’re dating because now he can see that the way you look at him is the same head-over-heels in love expression that he looks at you with.

Idiotically in love Seungmin who…

Randomly decides to mess with your head one day. He seemingly suddenly switches from spitting sarcastic retorts at everything you say to sending you heart eyes every-time you look at him. It’s suspicious.

Had always assumed that the strong way he felt about you was not being able to stand you. Like how he couldn’t stand how you always seemed to draw everyone in, like the first ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds after a long storm. But soon, he realised that he couldn’t stand being away from you. Like he needed your light to illuminate his dark mind and make him feel at ease.

Silently listens to things you say, storing them away for when he may need them and remembering little things about you that you don’t ever remember mentioning to him.

Plays with your hair subconsciously. It’s usually when you’re cuddling and he’s zoned out. With your head on his chest, it’s impossible for his fingers to not thread through your soft hair. It lulls you to sleep every time so when Seungmin does finally blink back into the real word he’s met with the angelic picture of his love resting against him.

Mocks the size of you. Any possible part of you that is smaller than him and he’s making a cheeky comment about how tiny you are. He gets a kick out of reminding you that you’re small and need him to help and protect you.

Idiotically in love Jeongin who…

Cannot bear to be apart from you anymore. Sod however scary it may be to confess his feelings to you. He has to let you know that there is no other way for him to live other than by loving you wholeheartedly.

Calls you dude or bro romantically. Just the thought of any sickly-sweet pet name makes him internally (and sometimes externally) cringe. Maybe it’s slight ptsd from his friend’s adoration towards him. But then you’re out and about and he can’t ignore the need to hold your hand. So, to get your attention, he calls you “dude.” before signalling for you to hold his hand.

Always gives you his hoodie to wear. It’s like the sight of you in his clothes, smelling of his cologne and scrunching up the cuffs into your palms to make little sweater paws makes him melt.

Carries you to bed and tucks you in when you fall asleep elsewhere. Like that one time Jeongin found you hunched over your open laptop, fast sleep in the early hours of the morning. Yes, he was annoyed that you’d stayed up so late working. But then again, he had also only just gotten back from practice and so wasn’t really in a much better position himself. Although, he will still nag you the next morning about the importance of self care.

Thought to himself “yeah, I’m screwed” when he met your meek smile from across the room and all he wanted was to rush over to you and envelop you in his arms to protect you from the world. At that moment in time, you had only known each other for about a week, but Jeongin just knew that you were going to be a very important part of his life.

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lovelyverosika · 7 months

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I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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mydadleft471 · 2 months

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For The Love Of A Daughter: Chapter 2

Summary: After waking up from what you were sure was a dream, you receive an invitation from your Lord and host.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and SOTE (got tired of writing out the full name lmao). No warnings, just a soft morning and Sianet being the best.

It seemed like people really liked my first chapter, so boom, have another! Have some Sianet backstory! (Bonus points if you look up the meaning of her name). Have my clueless ass trying to describe clothing! Have some good feels! God I love this man. Next chapter breakfast date with snakes??? I think so!

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging! It means so much to me. I hope you enjoy!

When you woke up this morning, you were terrified to open your eyes and find that yesterday’s events were a pleasant dream. But your fears were put to rest once you realized it wasn’t a figment of your sleeping imagination. Jasmine was still next to you, her small body tucked into yours. Her face is peaceful. Smiling, you carefully shift your way out of bed so you don’t wake her by accident.

The marble floor is cold on your bare feet and it helps you wake up. You hadn’t noticed last night, but you had a balcony. Opening the beautiful glass door, you’re greeted by the sweet morning sunshine and fresh air. You look over the landscape before you, and it’s only now you realize its quiet beauty. The grass, tinted a delicate gold, sways in the breeze. Below, you can see a few animals grazing and some of Messmer’s soldiers patrolling. Even a place such as this can hold some semblance of serenity.

Your thoughts are torn towards the sound of your door opening. You pull your robe around you tighter and smile when you realize your visitor is Sianet.

“Good morning. I trust you slept well?” Her pleasant, motherly voice echoes around the room. Her hair is tied up today.

“I did, thank you. Jasmine’s still asleep.” You gesture towards the small bump in the sheets.

“Poor thing, she must have been exhausted.” You notice her eyes are a pale blue, almost white. They’re beautiful.

She has clothing draped over her arm and a small bag slung over her back, and when your gaze shifts to it, she smiles. She moves to the gold wardrobe to the left of your bed with light steps. You follow her.

“Lord Messmer had our seamstress make new clothing for you and Jasmine. Right now, you only have a few options, but in a few days, you should have a full wardrobe to choose from.” She carefully lays out your clothing on the large vanity table, a few elegant tunics with delicate embroidery, and a couple pairs of pants with gold stitching. She opens her bag and reveals a pair of leather boots for you and some sandals for Jasmine.

You hear a loud yawn behind you and you turn to see Jasmine stretching and slowly making her way out of bed. Once she notices that you and Sianet are awake, she toddles her way over to you both.

“Good morning, Jasmine.” You reach down to smooth out her horrible bedhead.

“Hi. What are you guys doing?” She yawns again.

“I brought some clothes for you, little one. Would you like to see?” Sianet gestures to the remaining clothes on her arm.

Jasmine’s eyes light up and she bounces excitedly. She is no longer tired at the mention of gifts, it seems. “Please! I wanna see!”

Sianet laughs and begins to lay out the little dresses. All of them are beautiful and they all vary in color. Some are somber greens and reds, but there are a few colored lilac and cerulean. The seamstress did a wonderful job. Jasmine carefully touches each and every one, awe evident in her eyes.

“These are all for me?” She speaks like she can barely believe her eyes.

“Yes, and you may wear whichever one you’d like.” Sianet lays a gentle hand on her back.

“Can I wear the purple one? I like purple.”

“You may. Let’s get you dressed up.” She smiles and looks back at you. She grabs a small envelope from her bag and hands it to you with a golden letter opener. There is a red wax seal on it with Messmer’s insignia.

“This is from Lord Messmer?”

“Yes,” she answers. “He instructed me to give it to you.”

“Thank you.” Sianet nods in response and begins to help Jasmine get dressed.

You walk back to the bed and sit, delicately dragging the letter opener across the top. With shaky hands, you unfold his letter and read his loopy writing.

Good morning. I hope thou hast found thy bed comfortable and sufficient for plentiful rest. I am writing to request thine presence at breakfast. Jasmine is welcome if it pleases thee. If thou art overwhelmed by my request, I shall not be offended if thou wisheth to spend this day in isolation. Give thine answer to Sianet, and she shall see to it that whatever thy choice, thee and thine child shall eat.

Lord Messmer

He was writing to invite you to breakfast? Your heart raced and you found yourself nervous. He is a Lord, and he wants to have breakfast with you and Jasmine? You’re not worried for your safety, he’s proven that he doesn’t want to hurt you or her, but you’re afraid that you will offend him. You have no clue on proper eating etiquette outside of the basic don’t chew with your mouth full.

Jasmine bounds up to you, flaunting her new dress. The delicate lilac compliments her green eyes, and you smile. She looks so happy.

“What do you think?” She spins around so you can see the entire dress.

“You look like a princess, sweetie.” She beams at your praise and dances around the room, her skirt swishing and swaying with every movement.

Sianet approaches you, laughing at Jasmine. “What would you like to wear today?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Lord Messmer asked if we’d like to join him for breakfast, but I’m not royalty. I don’t know proper etiquette and I’m terrified I’ll offend him.”

“Lord Messmer never requests anyone’s presence for breakfast. You would be a special exception, therefore I don’t think he’d be offended if you went.”

“I’m not worried about going. He’s very polite and he’s given us so much already. I’m worried I’ll do something or say something wrong.”

Sianet sits down beside you on the bed and grabs your hands in hers. She smiles softly at you. “I cannot make this decision for you, but I have known Lord Messmer for a very long time, and he is not like his enemies describe him. He is sweet and considerate, though you’ve seen this already. I ask you trust yourself and not give into these anxious thoughts.”

She had a point. Maybe you were just allowing yourself to spiral.

“How long have you known him?” You ask.

“Goodness, I’m not sure anymore. I was his nanny when he was around Jasmine’s age.”

Your brows almost launch off your face in shock. She looks good for her age.

“You took care of him when he was little?”

“Oh, yes. Marika-” she stops herself, huffing. “Queen Marika wasn’t around much during his childhood. She had responsibilities that took priority over her son, I suppose.” She trails off. You can almost taste her disgust in the air and the scowl on her lovely face looks unnatural for someone so sweet.

“What was he like as a child?”

Her smile returns immediately. She squeezes your hands. “He was well-behaved, most of the time. He loved to read more than anything. Some children prefer to be social and play, but his favorite spot was the library, somewhere quiet and secluded. To this day, he enjoys reading above most things.”

“Hey, I like books too!” Jasmine climbs up onto the bed, eager to join the conversation.

“Perhaps you can ask Lord Messmer to lend you some at breakfast.” Sianet quirks her brow at your words.

“You’ve decided then?” There’s a hopeful glimmer in her voice.

“It would be impolite to refuse after all he’s done for us.”

“We’re going to have breakfast with Lord Messmer?” Jasmine leans her head against your shoulder and you wrap an arm around her.

“Yes we are. Is that okay with you?”

“Mhmm! He’s nice. Very tall, but nice. Do you think he’d let me pet his snakes?”

“Maybe, but we have to be very polite, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods, then looks down at your robe. “You’re not going to go to breakfast like that, are you?”

You laugh and squeeze her arm lightly. “No, I am not.”

You rise to get dressed, leaving Sianet to brush and tame Jasmine’s hair. You look in the mirror and you realize you should probably do something with your hair, too. You comb it back and make it look presentable, then slip on a dark green tunic and black pants. The gold embroidery on it dances along the fabric, making you look almost regal. Your new clothes are quite comfortable, and you take one more look into the mirror. You’re pleased at the results.

You pull on some soft cotton socks and then your boots. They’re a perfect fit. Maybe the seamstress knows magic?

You return to Jasmine and you see Sianet carefully braiding her hair. She’s pulling the long brown hair into a braided bun, which looks beautiful. You’d have to have her teach you how to do that sometime. At the mention of her hair being done, Jasmine runs towards the vanity and climbs into the chair, shaking her head back and forth to try and see the bun. You chuckle and hand her a small mirror, turn her around, and when she sees her hair, she lets out an audible gasp and looks on, transfixed.

“You look wonderful.” Sianet compliments you.

“Thank you. Would you tell Lord Messmer that we’d love to join him for breakfast?”

She smiles and bows her head. “I’ll tell him right away.”

She exits quickly, steps light and hurried. The door shuts behind her and you try your best to keep anxiety at bay.

Jasmine tiptoes over to you and grabs your hand. You look down and smile at her.

“I think you look wonderful, too.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You always make me feel better.”

She thunks her head against your hip. “So do you.”

#messmer the impaler #messmer x reader #messmer x tarnished #messmer the impaler x reader #elden ring x reader #elden ring messmer #he's so soft #i love him #sianet being a wingwoman #sianet being the best and jasmine being a cutie

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cussima · 15 days

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i shifted accidentally for the first time last night 😭

it wasn't my first time shifting, but it was my first time shifting on accident to a reality completely unknown to me 😭 Anyway here's that (long, quite detailed) story time !! (with reaction pics of course 😋)

i was so tired last night, and i had to wake up at 7AM today, i wanted my mind to be quiet so i could fall asleep easily and not have any vivid/random dreams (they make it so i can't rest well)

my subconscious with a different plan:

i remember being asleep here, lying on my bed and the darkness of my room, and all of the sudden i was standing in front of a white haired professor in a school in JAPAN !!!

now I don't have any japanese drs, or am close to anything japanese for that matter (i dont watch anime, etc etc) i think maybe i thought how i'd like to go to a tokyo grand prix for five seconds yesterday but that was it 😭 there was absolutely no reason for me to have woken up in a different country AND AT A SCHOOL !! for that matter like i genuinely have no idea what happened.

ANYWAYS...

the professor just talked about how i was new and my professors, and classmates, and all (i don't remember exactly what he said but when i woke up i knew it was an introductory "welcome to this school talk) and sent me to a classroom where i got way too worked up about a sexist mf, i kinda yelled at him for being sexist and the shit he was saying.

(i didn't YELL i confronted him and told him his ideology was stupid and might've given him (thrown...ish) some stuff to him but it was on topic i promise it was more like i landed him... some trash... like i put it at his feet for him to pick up okay, let's move on)

then i left that class !! but it was just as other classes were about to begin and another guy that had been in that class with me dragged me into another classroom because he had liked me (he didn't say it but he was rlly nice to me so i assumed he liked me) (liked me as in yk he didn't hate me after the whole class confrontation, i just had so he wasn't as bad as that other mf !!, im not saying he fell in love w me just in case anybody gets confused) (also the classroom wasn't empty he just had another class and dragged me along with him)

in that classroom he told me to put my hood on (i was wearing a black cotton jacket with a hood on it, we didn't have uniforms) and to not draw too much attention to myself (it was an all boys class, so if the professor found out im a girl she would've kicked me out and tbh idk what i would've done 😔)

and then the teacher came in, (i wanna describe her bc she was sooo,,, teacher core LMAO she had a big nose, glasses, red hair up, burgundy sweater and a white sort of lab coat thingy) introduced the class, and said she was going to play a movie, closed the class curtains and that's when i started remembering i had shifted here.

she played the movie (looking back at it now, i think they might've picked up from where they had left off in a previous class)

it was a movie with rupert grint where he was an adult and he had discovered like a magical realm, i remember i thought of harry potter (bc of rupert) and knowing that had never existed there, he had never been ron. There was also a blonde woman (gorgeous long blonde hair kinda looked like tilda swinton) and a little girl that was somehow related to Rupert's character.

I realized that movie didn't exist in this reality and that's when I sort of began panicking and remembered i had Actually shifted there

I decided to check my 5 senses but then I realized I don't know the steps to do it....

like i have to 5 what 4 what 3 what 2 what 1 what

so i just touched the desk where i was sitting, i touched the paper from the boy's notebooks and more stuff i can't remember, i remember wanting to touch the pencils inside the pencilcases but I couldn't be loud + those weren't mine !! and then i breathed in a couple times

and then i opened my eyes here again

now I know that stuff really doesn't work for me it just brings me back to my dr, because im just trying to remember what the tiktok i saw on this reality about the 5 senses method said 😭

ALSO !!

something i didn't mention is that when I walked into the second classroom, i got nervous when i realized it was an all boys class. I don't know what the class was on, i was looking around frantically, the curtains surprised me they were dark and i had never seen dark gray curtains in a classroom (what a stupid culture shock 😭)

when the teacher came in i put my hair on my eyes to FAKE A FRINGE !!! I didn't listen to her at all when she began the class, and then another guy with big blue eyes was mouthing something to me and the boy behind me, the boy i was with said "he's deaf just read his lips"

MF I DON'T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS ?!?

so now im nervous as fuck about not being able to read his lips and looking like an asshole that doesn't want to talk to deaf people

all while trying not to get kicked out of this class !!

it was A Lot of information to take in 😭 no wonder i shifted back i was being silly af

also THEN i shifted to a reality where my phone had barely charged (it had a decent amount of battery after i shifted, it went from 75% at 5AM when i woke up from my shift to 25% at 7AM)

#shifting #shifting story #shifting story time #story time #shift #shifting community #shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting reality #reality shift #reality shifting #shifters #shifting diary #master manifestor #loa #law of assumption #loa blog

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artificial-transmutations · 11 months

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The road trip

College was finally over! Randy and Danny, who had spent the last four years living in the same dorm room, were celebrating their graduation with a dream they had nurtured for the past few months: A road trip across the country! They would travel together, spend the time driving and the nights in motels, and finally visit some famous places along the way.

Both of them had the money for it and the time to spare. Danny, of course, who was the more reliable of the duo, was the one who had planned out the whole trip in advance. He had the maps, the motels and the sights all written down, and now they were driving through the countryside to the west.

All went according to plan and the two friends were already a few days on the road, when the accident happened. Randy, who didn't get much sleep the night before was driving while Danny was taking a nap in the seat next to him. The monotonous sight of the country road was not helping much, and Danny found it more and more difficult to stay awake. In hindsight, the sensible choice of action would have been to park the car and take a nap as well. But Randy wasn't the type for sensible choices. He just kept driving and driving until...

*BANG!*

Randy's car hit something, a rock, a stone, a tree. Danny woke up with a jolt and looked around. Everything had happened so fast. The front window was broken, and the airbag had exploded.

Danny couldn't see because of the airbag and tried to open the door. Luckily, it wasn't jammed, and he could work himself out of the car just in time to see Randy crawl out on the driver's side as well.

"Randy! Are you hurt? What happened?"

"No, I'm okay, but the car... "

Danny, who had managed to stand up by now, took a look at the front of the car. They had collided with a large rock next to the road. Even without any mechanical expertise, Danny recognized that the car was wrecked, damaged beyond repair. Next to one of the car's wheels, he spotted something on the ground. When he picked it up, however, it was just some old coin that he quickly pocketed.

"Fuck." was all Danny remarked. It was unlike him to swear, but the situation called for it.

Randy was still looking at the wreck of his car in disbelief. A thousand thoughts spun around in his head, ranging from "my dad's gonna kill me" to "I should really have been more careful". He finally decided on:

"How are we going to get back to civilization?"

"I'm not sure, but we'll figure something out. We should really get the rest of our luggage and call for help."

The two former students did as suggested and collected their luggage from the car. Luckily, everything that had been in the trunk was more or less intact. Calling for help, however, was a bigger problem than anticipated.

"No reception." Randy stated and Danny nodded, adding only another "Fuck.".

"Perhaps, there's some sort of service station nearby. We should probably walk in the direction we were driving." Danny said after a short consideration.

Neither of them knew how far it was going to be - but surely, at some point, they would be able to use their phones.

After walking for about twenty minutes in the blazing heat, Danny suddenly stopped.

"What's the matter?", Randy asked.

"It's fucking hot, that's what it is", Danny answered. His voice sounded scruff, but that was probably just because of the lack of water. After a short bit of hesitation, he pulled his white t-shirt over his head and used it to wipe away his sweat before dropping it to the ground.

"Better." he mumbled, but it didn't take long for the sweat to return.

Randy, who had also stopped when Danny did, looked at him and his surprisingly well defined torso, glistening in the sun. He had known Danny for a long time, and had seen him shirtless more than once, but his friends exposed chest was way more impressive than he remembered.

"Aren't you hot?"

Randy was interrupted in his thoughts by the question.

"No, actually... I'm not sweating one bit." he answered truthfully. That earned him a strange look from Danny, but no further comment.

Danny was hot, really hot. His mind was clouded, and it was difficult for him to think straight. After another short while, he cursed again.

"Fuck this shit! We're not getting anywhere like that."

Absentmindedly, he scratched his chest, which showed a coating of fine dark hairs now. Randy was pretty sure they weren't there some moments ago. What was going on?! Randy really didn't want to stare, but there were some not-so-subtle changed in his friend. The chest, the hair, the sudden change in behavior... and was that a tattoo on his shoulder? Randy was very, very certain that Danny didn't have any tattoos and yet, here was one. It looked like a crest or something, perhaps a military motive? That was impossible, of course, Danny was a gentle pacifist.

It didn't look bad on him, though. Randy found his eyes glued to his friends body, taking everything in, the muscles, the tattoo, the hair, the... bulge.

"Are you enjoying the view?" the question was snarky, almost aggressive, and definitely not what Randy was used to.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" Randy began, but Danny had already closed the distance between them and closed his hand (Randy could swear it was bigger and rougher than before) around Randy's crotch. Only now that it had been touched, Randy realized that he had grown hard.

"Don't act innocent, you little fag", Danny growled. "You're enjoying the view."

"Yes." Randy breathed. The whole situation was weird, and definitely not good, but his friend's hand on his cock felt so incredibly good. Of course, Randy wasn't gay... was he?

When he looked up, he saw Danny grinning a superior grin, despite his harsh words. He had grown significantly, Randy noticed. Not taller, but broader, with big, strong muscles. More tattoos had appeared on his other arm as well, and his chin was covered in bristly stubble now.

Most importantly, though, Danny, too was obviously hard in his pants. The bulge was big, way bigger than what Randy would have expected, even though he had never seen Danny's member hard before. The sight was mouth-watering.

Danny laughed and pressed his groin into Randy's, letting him feel the hardness.

"Yeah, I know what you want."

He opened his pants with his free hand and dropped them, revealing a huge member.

"Do you like what you see?"

Randy couldn't do much else than nod. The sight was just mesmerizing. He was still vaguely aware that they were open in public, on a road, but he couldn't help but stare at his friend's huge cock.

"Come on, give it a kiss."

Randy did as he was told and started to kneel down in front of his friend, but he was interrupted again by Danny's big hand that stopped him.

"But first...", Danny's voice sounded lower, more manly now, as he reached into Randy's pants and underpants and closed his hand around Randy's very stiff dick before he continued:

"I'll take this."

With that, he suddenly *yanked* at Randy's cock and balls, who was expecting the pain of a lifetime. Surprisingly enough, it didn't feel too bad. There was an odd pulling sensation for a moment, but it passed quickly. Even as Danny had retracted his arm, Randy could still feel his firm hand gripping his cock and balls - and he could *see* them, too: Danny was still holding them in his hand, detached from Randy's body.

"Ah, a perfect toy. This should keep you busy while I make use of your mouth."

The realization of what had happened was overwhelming, but it didn't stop Randy from feeling horny. It didn't help that Danny was idly playing with his detached cock, making him moan.

"Didn't you hear me? On. Your. Knees."

Randy was surprised, and even scared a little. How could Danny speak with such authority, like he was a superior man? Like he was... Randy's master.

As he finally went down on his knees, he looked up and was confronted with a different kind of surprise: Danny had been wearing blue jeans before, but now he was greeted by old and worn, and, most importantly, smelly, camo pants, held by a leather belt with a big metal buckle. The pants were open and his giant dick, still hard, hung out between the legs, resting on the heavy balls.

"Suck it." Danny said.

Randy did as he was told, putting his lips around the giant cock and started to suck. It felt more than weird, sucking another man's cock while having his own member detached and being slowly rubbed by the manly hands of his frie...

No, Danny was clearly superior to him now, much too superior to be a peer of his. He was his master, his owner perhaps. He was the one who held his cock in his hand, quite literally. The thought was thrilling for Randy, and he moaned out of pure pleasure.

Danny seemed to enjoy the blowjob as well, and, surprisingly, his cock grew even larger. With a low growl, Danny came in Randy's mouth. It was an incredible amount of cum, filling his mouth and making him gag.

"Good." Danny smirked and zipped up his pants. "And now you're gonna replace the car you crashed."

With these words, Randy found himself beginning to change. He fell to the ground and watched as both his hands and feet became larger, black and rubbery. There was no doubt: They were turning into... tires!

His whole body exploded in size, shredding his clothing as if they were made of paper. His skin turned hard and metallic and took on a bright yellow color. His body hollowed out and glass formed on the front, the sides and the back, as Randy, the human quickly became Randy, the car. And not just any car. He was becoming a brand new, modern, yellow jeep. His intestines turned into one of the most powerful engines you could own, while his mind underwent another transformation.

Randy's thoughts became clearer, simpler, more mechanical, as his mind was being absorbed into the on-board computer, effectively becoming nothing more than a subservient AI. With all his sensors, Randy noticed of course, as the rugged redneck, Dan the man, entered his interior and took a deep breath of Randy's new car smell.

"Alright, let's get going." Danny mumbled to no one in particular and inserted the key, which had been Randy's cock before, into the keyhole that had been Randy's mouth.

Immediately, Randy roared to life, and at the touch of his owner accelerated down the long country road.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #straight to gay #inanimate transformation

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allwaswell16 · 4 months

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A fic rec of One Direction fics in which the characters are close to the age they are now in 2024 as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💠 The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 168k, canon) Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together.

💠 And What If I Were You by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 109k, famous/not famous) For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart? And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever?

💠 Desires for Woolgatherings by isolated

(E, 86k, Maniac au) In the midst of his second world tour, Louis Tomlinson receives the devastating news that his former bandmate, Harry Styles, is in critical condition after an unfortunate accident.

💠 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

💠 another dream but always you by you_explode / @nobodymoves

(M, 60k, superpowers) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band.

💠 you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou

(E, 60k, acquaintances to lovers) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

💠 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours

(T, 35k, coffee shop) Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies.

💠 If I had no love to give (I wouldn't give it to you) by @kingsofeverything

(E, 30k, restaurant au) Small town restaurateur Louis Tomlinson needs someone competent to work in his kitchen. Chef Harry Styles needs a job.

💠 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16

(E, 30k, songfic) It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

💠 signs and wonders by @scrunchyharry

(E, 29k, cheating) On the surface, it looks like Louis Tomlinson has the perfect life; after all, he has the whole package: a white picket fence house (well, his doesn’t technically have a white picket fence, but work with him), a wife, a daughter and a dog. He has it all and he’s not even 30, yet.

💠 Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 28k, hospital au) the one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.

💠 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

💠 Rolling Stone UK Awards AU (series) by INnenaHeart / @thechavier

(M, 15k, canon divergence) Harry started walking away from him and he felt like he was missing the moment, if he let him go like this he would lose on something. Something great. Something beautiful.

💠 Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, time jump) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

💠 Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers

(E, 4k, canon) The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.

💠 Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, pwp) the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice

💠 Jealousy Looks Good On You, Baby by cigarettesbeforesex

(M, 4k, pwp) A flirtatious stranger wanted to entice Louis by buying him a drink from the bar. The handsome 29-year-old tavern manager with curly hair, who Louis (often) flirts with, is currently working on shift...Poor Curly, because he's the one that has to deliver the drink to him.

💠 spring in your eyes by @nouies

(NR, 3k, fake relationship) “Just Go with It” inspired AU where plastic surgeon Harry pretends to be married to his assistant Louis to avoid unwanted attention.

💠 From the Dining Table by @littleroverlouis

(E, 3k, established relationship) Harry's thirtieth birthday hasn't gone as expected. Things start looking up from the dining table.

- Rare Pairs -

💠 Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 57k, Zayn/Liam) With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

💠 Eight Days by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 22k, Liam/Louis) Louis and Liam got hitched in Vegas, completely forgot about it for more than a decade, and it comes back to bite them. Sort of.

#weeklyficrec #ficrec #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dficvillage #I used the most recent ig photos when I made this #and it still makes me laugh about niall's

176 notes · View notes

peterparkersnose · 2 years

Text

Feeling You

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons

a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪

summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 13 mins 10 seconds

The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.

“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”

You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?

“I’m glad to see your up.”

You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.

“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.

“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”

“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.

“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.

You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.

“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”

‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.

“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”

A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.

“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”

He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.

He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”

A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.

“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”

You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”

“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”

He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”

You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”

“Your with him.”

Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.

The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.

“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.

“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication.

“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.

You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.

As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.

“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”

Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?

“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word.

Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort.

James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife.

James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see.

“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…”

He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck.

After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun.

You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice.

When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open.

After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you.

“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,”

You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes.

“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you.

His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear.

Joel’s body stiffened.

“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”

Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”

“Go,” you trembled.

Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice.

As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,”

He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.

“I…”

His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival.

Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm.

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you.

You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.

Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today.

A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst.

“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours.

“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart.

“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”

“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up.

“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night.

Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward.

The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town.

Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong.

“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly.

“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow.

“I just need some time, Joel.”

“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.”

You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire.

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.

“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”

His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?

Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.”

The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah.

“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.”

The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.

Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder.

“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying.

Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape.

Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid.

“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.”

A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.

You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture.

Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you.

Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was.

Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

2K notes · View notes

pahtoosh · 16 days

Text

what's in a name

[image ID: a gif of steve and bucky smiling. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: 960 words

warnings: drama with a wasp, steve picks you up

a/n: shakespeare says names don't matter but in this case I say they do!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: the first time you called Bucky "Baba" and Steve "Dada"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

It came out by accident. You found yourself dozing off in Bucky’s arms while watching a movie. The whole day, Steve and Bucky had been doting on you, making you feel safe enough to slip into littlespace. It was your first experience with slipping in front of them for a long period. You felt so light. The fuzziness of your mind had you lifting off your toes and into the arms of your protector.

Steve had been called for a meeting, so it was just you and Bucky cuddling on the couch.

Bucky shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He wasn’t planning on getting up, but you didn’t know that. You furrowed your brow and held onto him tighter. Your next words tumbled out of your mouth like marbles down a staircase.

“Baba, please stay.”

Your words were slurred. Your cheek was smushed against Bucky’s chest and your sleepiness stopped your mouth from properly forming the words. Bucky heard you perfectly, though.

His heart skipped a beat. His mind raced. He didn’t want to wake you up though, so he just kissed the top of your head and soothed you by rubbing his hand over your back.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Baba’s not going anywhere.

When you woke up from your nap, you remembered your little slip-up. Your face grew hot with embarrassment.

“Hey there, sunshine.” Bucky cooed. “Are you waking up?”

You nodded and then slowly removed yourself from his embrace, still clinging to his shirt with one hand.

“Do you wanna get up?”

You nodded, then shook your head and nodded again.

“Is something wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

You shook your head.

“What’s got you all shy?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I just wish I knew what was going on so I could help you,” Bucky said as he rubbed your back.

“I- I called you Baba.”

“That’s nothing to be shy about.”

You shook your head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded.

“I liked it.”

You peeked out from your hiding place against his chest, allowing your soft eyes to ask a wordless question.

“I love takin’ care of you, honey. And if you love it too, enough to give me a special name, my only business is to keep going. I’ll show you how much I like being called your Baba.”

Ever so gently, you leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. You got comfortable in the crook of his neck before softly speaking.

“Baba. My Baba.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

It was nearly dinner time when Steve returned. The three of you decided to hang out on the balcony while waiting for the food to be delivered. You sat on the outdoor rug, playing with toys while Steve and Bucky sat on the bench, chatting about their days and looking much like the love-struck Brooklyn boys from the past. Only now they had a precious little one whom their gaze often turned to.

Your mind was utterly blank. Any train of thought drifted away as you lost yourself in the colorful blocks. You reached out to grab another piece when a large wasp landed in front of you. Startled, you pulled your hand back, accidentally knocking over the little tower you had worked so hard on. The wasp must’ve been startled too, as it began flying in frenzied circles by the fallen blocks.

Your whimper caught the attention of the two super soldiers. Being the closest one to you, Steve leaped into action. He swiftly picked you up and carried you to the other side of the balcony.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” Steve did his best to soothe your trembling figure. He bounced you in his arms, holding you tight.

You took in a shaky breath, trying to shake the fear from your thoughts.

“Scared.”

“I know, honey. Let’s go inside, hm? Bucky’s picking up your toys for you.” Steve carried you through the sliding door, making sure no other little creatures were around as he pushed the glass aside.

He sat on the living room’s armchair with you. Steve ran his hands up and down your arms, making you feel safe. It was as if he was slowing down time just for you. You felt much calmer by the time Bucky came back inside. He gently set down your crate of toys before kneeling by the armchair.

“You okay, pumpkin? I’m sorry that happened to ya.”

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. “I gave that little punk a good talking to. No more stingers are coming around here to scare my baby, ya hear? I’ll have Tony set some nets up to be sure of it.”

You giggled, loving how his accent came out with a twinge of sass.

“It’s okay. Dada saved me.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss on Steve’s cheek. The blonde super soldier’s heart swelled to three times its size.

He failed miserably at keeping a dopey smile off his face. He didn’t want to scare you off by making it a big deal, though. Play it cool, Steve. Play it cool.

“I-is that me?” He coughed to clear his throat, “Am I your Dada?”

You nodded proudly and pointed at Bucky. “And he’s my Baba.”

The next few moments were a blur. Steve pulled Bucky onto the chair, making his partner shout before chuckling in surprise. Both of them simultaneously decided that you needed to be peppered with kisses. You decided to get them back by holding one of their faces still while you returned the favor. The three of you were a giggling mess, squished on the too-small chair: the perfect start to your precious little family.

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #fluff #cuddles #sfw regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #little being carried #marvel agere #what's in a name #whats in a name #whats-in-a-name #toosh writes

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justwritedreams · 1 year

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Million Words | Jongho

Idol Jongho x Reader, friends to lovers au! Word count: 3838 Genre: fluff, angst Author: maari Warnings: Mention about Jongho's injury, slight harassment, jealous Jongho, him and the reader are two idiots. Note: The dream I had with him was very different but I really need something extremely cute with him cause I miss Jongho 😭😭😭 Summary: There are millions of words that you and Jongho haven't said to each other yet. Until now. Taglist: @foxinnie8

⩥ Ateez Masterlist

Y/N was too focused on the notes she was making in her notebook, but at a certain point, when she touched her cheek to her hand that had her elbow resting on the table, her eyes began to get heavy. It was another one of those nights she stayed up to study for finals and she needed to do well.

It was a hard routine in the last few weeks, she wasn't proud of not eating right and much less sleeping the hours she needed but she needed to focus.

As her head fell forward, her cell phone rang shrilly and she woke up from her brief nap, if you could call it a nap.

She looked for her cell phone among the papers and books, and when she found it she frowned when saw Mingi's name on the screen.

"Hello?" she answered, rubbing her weary eyes.

"Y/N, sorry to call you at this time, didn't mean to wake you up." Mingi looked really regretful and worried.

"It's okay. I wasn't sleeping anyway." she admitted, resting her forehead on her free hand, her body feeling heavy with exhaustion.

"I just wanted to make sure, is Jongho with you?" he asked fearfully.

Her eyes woke up, a little more attentive at the question.

"No, actually I haven't spoken to him in a while."

With finals coming up and she knew she would have to focus, she rarely spoke to her friends. She replied when she could, and didn't even see them, but she remembered that Jongho wasn't texting her either, figuring he was too busy with his world tour.

"Wait, aren't you in Latin America or something?" she questioned, receiving silence in response. "How could he be with me?"

"We're in Singapore now, we've finished the tour in Latin America." he sighed and among the papers scattered across the table, Y/N searched for her calendar.

But wasn't it August yet?

She knew they were going to Latin America because the date would be very close to her simulated finals.

Her eyes widened when she saw the date. September.

It had been a little over two weeks since she had spoken to Jongho because she was studying harder than she could.

"Wait, you didn't hear about the announcement?"

"What announcement?"

Mingi took a deep breath on the other end of the line and Y/N felt anxiety rise in her stomach.

"He had a meniscus rupture in August, he had to have surgery." Y/N straighten up in the chair while feeling the heart sink. "He went back to Korea right away. Didn't he tell you?"

Her jaw dropped and she pushed away the papers that now weren't even important.

She didn't know any of that, he hadn't said. Not that he was coming back before and not from the injury, much less the surgery.

"I-I didn't know." her voice came out low because of the lump that formed in her throat. "But why did you call me to ask if he was with me?"

"He doesn't answer the phone or return our messages, the last time I spoke to him he blamed himself."

Mingi didn't need to say anything else, Y/N quickly got up from her chair and searched the room desperately for her purse.

"I'll go to him." she said, determined. "Is he in the apartment?"

"Yes, our manager said he left him sleeping at home."

Y/N nodded even though Mingi couldn't see it and hurriedly left the room.

"I'll let you know when I have news."

"Thank you, Y/N." She tried to smile but she was too worried, her icy hands couldn't even lock her own door.

She felt guilty, especially for being absent at this time, both for Jongho and for the boys. She felt like a terrible friend.

She tried to remain calm while driving, the last thing she wanted was an accident at that moment and the way to Jongho's house never seemed so long, or maybe her nervousness made it seem like everything was happening too slowly.

When she arrived, she felt her heart stop in her throat as she knocked nonstop on the door. She couldn't control her nervous hands.

And a certain relief mixed with concern took over her body when Jongho answered the door, a little sullen with messy hair and a tired face.

But what really caught her eye was the splint on his knee.

Without much thought, she threw her arms around his shoulder in a tight, worried hug, with a tiny bit of guilt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

She pulled away so she could face him, he was serious and confused, and until then he didn't return the hug.

Not that she thought he would, because she knew he didn't like physical touch.

Y/N didn't wait for Jongho to answer to enter the house, crossing her arms and turning to face him, he was still standing holding the doorknob, looking at nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me about the surgery?" she asked and that made him close the door, turning slowly with some difficulty with his knee.

"Who told you?" he answered with a question, avoiding the answer she expected, still serious and still in the same place.

"Mingi, he's worried because you don't return his messages or calls." He smiled a little acidic and very ironic.

"I was asleep." he answered and started walking towards the room, passing Y/N.

She followed him with her eyes, he walked with some difficulty and she imagined how much pain he was feeling. She had seen him a few times with shorts but knew that by the size of the splint, pants would hardly fit.

He sat on the couch, leaning on the structure so he could take it slowly while being closely watched by Y/N.

"And do you need anything?" She approached in tentative steps, fiddling with the zipper on her purse.

"A little peace." he replied, looking down at the floor avoiding her eyes. "Look, I'm fine."

She narrowed her eyes, his words not matching his expression.

All it looked like was that he was less than fine.

"Jongho." she called him. She rarely said his name, except in two situations. When she was very angry or very worried. "Can you at least look at me?"

He took a deep breath, still reluctant, and did.

His dark eyes were tired and she saw the guilt in them, and worse than that, the loneliness.

Staring into his eyes made her heart sink even more.

"And will you please stop looking at me like that?" he pleaded, closing his eyes for a brief second. "I can't stand you and the members looking at me like that."

Y/N frowned and looked at him more closely.

"Like that?"

"With pity." he spat out the words.

"No, I just-"

"Don't say you don't feel sorry for me, because I can see that in your eyes." he spoke firmly and she hugged her body, Jongho's words were cold.

She was sorry yes but it wasn't for him but herself. Everything she had been doing in the last few days, the effort to do well in the finals, became much less important when seeing that the friend, whom she trusted the most, was carrying all that weight alone because she was thinking only of herself.

Even if he was always by her side in the most fragile and joyful moments that she went through. And she wasn't giving back the way she felt she could and should.

"I'm sorry." was all she managed to say, feeling her eyes water. "I'm sorry for being such an absent friend."

"I know you're too busy right now, I don't want you to come looking for me out of pity."

Ouch.

Y/N could hear her heart break into a million pieces, mostly from the cold way Jongho spoke.

Although she understood his side, the anger he felt at being alone, nothing she did would change that now and make her feel less hurt.

If he was hurt physically, she was hurt emotionally, and this was the worst time to be in the same room together.

Which was why she left his apartment in silence, still fiddling with the zipper on her purse, sniffling along the way as she fought back tears.

She ended up missing her friend's weary, regretful sigh.

[...]

Days had passed and if Y/N wasn't ignoring Jongho on purpose before, now she was.

She still felt hurt by her friend's harsh words so she knew that talking to him carrying so much hurt wouldn't do any good, that's why she didn't respond when he sent her a message saying he needed to talk to her.

Jongho had talked to the members and Mingi thanked Y/N for making it but both didn't even have the slightest contact after that day.

She was too busy trying to understand the wave of feelings that had arisen with this fight between the two, she had been very upset and angry with him for pushing her away like that. But she missed him so much, it hurt.

She wanted to be by his side following his recovery, because she was sure he was doing very well, she wanted to be able to help in some way, even if it was to watch a horror movie that he had chosen and that she hated - even if she had seen at least about 5 times -, but she liked it because that was the only way she could abuse the physical contact because he protected her with a very gentle caress on the back.

She missed such simple moments with him, things that should have been commonplace but were special.

Maybe she really should talk to him...

They would understand each other, Jongho was the person she liked and trusted the most in life, there was no reason for them to leave for a silly reason.

The doorbell rang and Y/N felt anxiety take over her body and her heart race just thinking about the possibility of being her friend. He was the only person she was waiting for.

She opened the door with a smile on her face, her sweaty hands on the doorknob, but the smile diminished in the same instant when she saw that the face was very different from what she wanted to see.

"Did you miss me, Y/N?"

She tried to reason what was happening but her mind didn't seem to believe it and when she blinked her eyes, he was already at her house, taking off his shoes quickly and going to the living room as if it were his house.

“Charlie?” She still kept her hand on the doorknob, completely paralyzed. "What are you doing here?"

She heard his chuckle and turned to face him, he threw himself onto the sofa and brought his feet up to stretch out on the upholstery.

"It's a holiday in Japan."

Y/N frowned.

"No, it's not. The holiday was last month." he raised an eyebrow, not looking the least bit concerned about being contradicted. "I talk to my brother, you know?"

"And he mentioned you to me, I wanted to see you."

Y/N rolled her eyes, looking at the wall of the house that was far more important than the slouched figure sitting on her couch.

"Go away, I'm busy."

Charlie didn't seem to mind because he crossed his arms and held himself in place.

She took a deep breath.

A long time ago Charlie, one of her brother's friends, was her first kiss. Two years older, he used to be a pretty nice guy but after they kissed the first and only time - because her first kiss was traumatic enough for a 14-year-old - Charlie seemed to have gotten a little more involved than she was. Always acting like they were dating, when she'd never let him take it that way. Afterwards, Y/N had other crushes at school and Charlie became just a memory of a first experience. For her, it was enough. The affection she held for him was far from being a passion and so she entered college and Charlie and her brother went to Japan to study.

But Charlie always insisted on trying to maintain an approach beyond friendship, and at a certain point it started to irritate her. Annoyed, Jongho gave her advice to simply ignore and block him and she did.

But what she least expected was that he would skip class, fly from Japan to Korea to visit her in person.

"Come on, cutie, I traveled all this way to see that pretty face and I don't even get a smile?" he complained and she huffed.

Y/N walked over to the shelf that held her shoes and glared at him.

"Okay" she shrugged. "If you're not going to leave, then I will." She left the house in long strides and heard him laugh, thinking she was joking, she arrived in a few seconds in the elevator that was open and entered, pressing the button for the ground floor hearing him call her name.

When she saw his shadow approaching, the elevator door had already closed and she took a deep breath, putting her shoes on angrily as the elevator descended.

There was only one place on her mind and that was where she was going. She got out of the elevator and walked through reception, irritated because she hadn't had time to get a coat, and her irritation increased even more when she heard Charlie shout her name once more across the hall.

Great, he'd gone after her. Y/N was already on the street when her arm was pulled back with force, forcing her to stop.

She stared at Charlie impatiently and he didn't seem so bold anymore.

"Come on, Y/N? Are you going to leave me talking to myself?"

She laughed sarcastically.

"Did you have to fly all the way from Japan to understand that?"

"I'm not liking this attitude of yours." he warned and she raised her eyebrows.

"Then let go of me and get out of here." she said, pulling her arm for him to release the grip, which didn't happen as he tightened his grip and pulled her closer.

Y/N moved her torso to keep her distance from him even more, not liking the look he was giving her at all.

"Don't you miss that time?" she narrowed her eyes at his question. "That we were together?"

"We were never together." she replied, trying to remove the hand that gripped her arm. "Let me go!"

"I'm sure you're playing this game on purpose."

Y/N glared at him like he was crazy and her free hand braced on his chest to keep him even further away as he started to lean closer.

"Let me go!"

Before Charlie could get any closer, another hand came out of nowhere and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding Y/N's arm.

"Let her go. Now." Y/N turned quickly upon recognizing Jongho's voice.

He had his angry eyes turned towards Charlie and the expression was one of pure anger, she could see the strength he was putting in his jaw.

"That is none of your business, dude." Charlie spoke and Y/N could hear Jongho practically growl.

What happened next caused relief and worry to wash over Y/N's body. Jongho tightened his grip on Charlie's wrist and turned him to the side, making him let go of her arm as he complained.

"Oh, wait, hey!" In another moment, Y/N would have laughed at Charlie's clear desperation but she knew that if Jongho wanted to, he would break Charlie's wrist. Not that he didn't deserve it, she was laughing inside, but she needed to listen to her rational side that said that if Jongho got into trouble now because of her it would be a huge chaos.

And they were in the middle of the street!

That's why she approached Jongho and put her hand on his arm.

"Jongho, please." she asked quietly, trying to get his attention.

He was staring at Charlie like he could kill him with just his eyes.

"Please, it's not worth it."

Jongho took a deep breath and stared at her, mentally debating whether to hear what she was saying. She kept her eyes fixed on him and moved her head slightly so that he would silently do as she asked.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned to face Charlie.

"If I see you 1 kilometer away from her, I swear I'll rip your arm off." he threatened, his voice low and menacing but Charlie kept quiet so he shook the guy. "You understood?"

Charlie just nodded, visibly scared and Jongho let go of him rudely.

"Now get the fuck out before I regret it."

Y/N stifled a laugh as she saw Charlie practically run away without looking at her or back, he even tripped over his own feet as he disappeared.

Jongho turned to face her, his expression a little calmer this time.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly and raised his hands to place on her shoulders but stopped midair, afraid of hurting her.

Y/N looked at her arm which was slightly red but she felt great so she nodded.

"Let's go in." she nodded toward her building. Whatever she did to avoid Jongho being seen there, she would do it. He agreed and the two entered, side by side, Jongho was still limping a little.

In silence but without his eyes straying from looking at Y/N to make sure she was okay, they went to her apartment.

He walked in front, a little shy, took off his shoes at the door and walked in being followed by Y/N, who was staring at his back. She closed the door as Jongho stopped by the sofa.

"Do you want something?" she asked, drawing his attention. "Water? Coffee?"

Jongho shook his head and she took a deep breath.

"Then sit down, please." she pointed to the sofa. "I don't want you to get tired."

Jongho did so, resting his elbows on top of his knees.

"But I'm tired, Y/N." he admitted and she approached, worried. "Tired of not talking to you."

She sighed, looking down at the floor.

The feeling was mutual.

"I just did what you asked, I gave you peace." she shrugged, swallowing hard.

"I didn't ask you to ignore me."

Y/N ran her hand over her face, trying to avoid looking at him or else she would end up talking more than she should.

"You got it wrong that day." she crossed her arms. "It wasn't you I was feeling sorry for, it was myself."

She took courage and faced him, Jongho frowned and tilted his head to the side, confused.

"I'm an idiot, you know? You were always there for me at all times and when you needed me the most, I was too busy being selfish."

Jongho shook his head.

"I would never ask you to sacrifice your last year of college to babysit me."

She took a step forward when Jongho got up from the sofa.

"But you don't understand, I wouldn't sacrifice myself, it was just my duty to know what was happening with you!"

"I know you have more important things to do." he said and she shook her head. Finals weren't as important to her as his well-being. “I was very rude to you that day, I understand your anger." he admitted, putting his hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt he wore. "It's just…I didn't want you to see me like that."

"I get it, you didn't want to show weakness." She understood. She knew her friend well and knew how bad he must be feeling for not showing what he strived to be, strong. Jongho laughed softly, lowering his head.

"My weakness is you.”

“What?” Jongho remained silent and that intrigued her even more. “What do you mean by that?" She saw Jongho take several deep breaths before he glared at her, not knowing what to say.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, softly but curiously. "Why did you do that to Charlie?"

She wouldn't scold him, on the contrary she would thank him, but she needed to understand.

"There are a million words I want to say to you but I…" he shrugged. "I care about you. More than I should actually." Y/N felt her legs tremble and her heart race but she couldn't say anything because her voice seemed to be gone, and it didn't help when Jongho approached her.

He didn't quite touch her but she felt his body heat so close.

“What…” "I'm in love with you."

Y/N's eyes widened at the confession, he went straight to the point.

"I said, now I'm going to leave so I don't get any more awkward." He prepared to walk past her but Y/N grabbed his hand. Jongho looked at her very shy, his ears were so red and his hands were cold but she didn't break the contact because his skin was too welcoming. "Are you serious?" she asked, she wanted to smile but still didn't believe what he had just said.

"I never lied to you." he admitted.

Y/N felt her whole body heat up suddenly and then without thinking twice she pressed her lips to his, catching him off guard. It was a simple touch but she felt how soft and warm his lips were, when he pulled back Jongho's face was pure shock and she smiled, feeling her cheeks heat up. "What... was this?" he asked, perplexed.

"I think we have a lot to talk about."

Jongho raised an eyebrow and then brought both hands to Y/N's face, bringing her closer and putting their lips together once more.

Only now it was properly a real kiss, with him taking her bottom lip as Y/N sighed and brought her hands up to Jongho's arms.

It was a calm and soft kiss, to discover the unfamiliar and at the same time familiar sensation of the lips moving, without any hurry. Even when they moved their heads to deepen the kiss and their tongues went into a slow dance, the rhythm didn't change. Y/N felt her legs tremble and smiled slightly when Jongho moved his hands to hold her by the waist gently, as if he was afraid of hurting her, making her take her hands to his broad shoulders.

When the shortness of breath was already unbearable to the point of bothering the lungs, they moved away and still with their eyes closed Y/N felt Jongho run his nose across the entire length of her face, making her laugh lightly. “I guess I'm not the only one who has a million words to say.”

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