imaslutforwritingshit

[imaslutforwritingshit]

guys I haven’t written here forever it’s time to begin cuz I love spooky things and it’s Halloween season 😸🎃

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Stop sabotaging your reality with your own thoughts. Stop upholding the beliefs that don't serve your highest good. You’re the only person thinking inside your mind. Brainwash yourself for the reality you want to experience. Brainwash yourself for abundance. Brainwash yourself for success. When you change your thoughts and feelings, you change your life.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Born to Kill- A Miguel O Hará Romance- PART 6!

Miguel's teeth sunk into my lower lip.

"I need you, princess. Now."

I bucked my hips, desperate for the feeling of his body, warm and strong on mine. He growled in my mouth, and snaked his tongue on mine, a shudder taking over my body. Each flick of his tongue wet my core even more, my slickness dripping on his satin sheets.

Miguel unzipped his suit, the muscular build of his upper body bulging through the spandex. I sucked in a breath, and he rocked his clothed dick on the rising hem of my nightgown.

"My pretty-" he groaned with pleasure, and rocked his hips more. "girl."

I dug my fingers into the warm muscles of his back.

His body was so comforting over mine.

I wanted it to be like this forever.

Miguel slid his lean body out of his suit, his erection throbbing on the small slit of my pussy. I sucked in a breath, and leaned my head back, gripping the sheets in anticipation.

The way he teased my wet body with the tip of his cock made my mouth open in ecstasy, each moan getting stronger with the hard rubs of his skin on my clit. I felt the liquid of my arousal slipping under my thigh, and I moved my hips forward, the excitement for his body overwhelming my senses.

"My god, Scarlett." His moan matched mine, a synchronized masterpiece that made me clamp the satin harder.

"Scarlett."

"Scarlett!"

My eyes snapped open.

I was back where I was before. His room.

Except Miguel wasn't on me.

He was standing near his nightstand, arms crossed tightly. His sweatpants were sliding down on his lean frame, the v of his pelvic bone casually showing. I forced my eyes up to meet the dark confusion of his.

"What are you doing?" His voice was low, and hardly sounded like anything over the frantic pounding of my heart.

I tried to sit up casually, reminding myself that he wasn't aware of the dream I had.

Right?

The thought that my moans escaped during sleep burned my cheeks red.

But if Miguel knew I had a wet dream about him, it didn't show. He rolled his eyes, and pinched the area between his eyebrows. "I told you I was sleeping in my bed, princess. And I go to the bathroom, come back, and see this. Get off."

The sound of the pet name that he had used in my dream made my stomach swirl. But when I repositioned my thighs, horrible realization hit me.

I was soaking wet.

If I moved from the bed, Miguel would know.

Fuck, this is embarrassing.

"I...can't." My voice was so meek you would've thought I had confessed to a crime.

Miguel made a strange sound, and coughed to override it.

"Jesus. Okay. I'm going to the bathroom."

He turned away from me, and walked to the entrance of the master bathroom..

Curiosity in my mind, that was much braver than me, forced my mouth to ask a question.

"I thought you just said you already went. To the bathroom."

He halted, and breathed shakily. His strong back was facing me, and for some strange reason, he didn't turn around when he spoke.

"Such a nosy girl."

The blood rose to my cheeks again, and I slid back down the pillows. Miguel shut the door, and I rose to examine the mess of the sheets.

It wasn't bad. My thighs had taken most of the blow of my embarrassing reaction to the dream.

I raked my fingers through my hair. The way Miguel had used my mouth has been driving me crazy, and now I can't even go to sleep without thinking of it?

I'm so mad at my heart for doing this. I know for a fact Miguel isn't thinking about me like that. He just had some sort of animal erection and took it out on me.

A loud, messy groan came from the closed bathroom. My ears perked, and I faced the entrance.

"Miguel...you good?"

I heard a faucet turn on, and Miguel grumbled,

"Yeah. I just- uh, fell."

I furrowed my brows and settled back on the bed. The thought of Miguel falling in a shower brought a giggle to my lips.

I swirled circles in the fabric next to me, lost in thought. Everything was so complicated now. I can remember the days of jumping on skyscrapers during sunset, and fighting monsters like my life depended on it. Now that I look back, petty villains were nothing to worry about.

My mother, Hobie leaving, Reiner, now Miguel- it was all so much. Worry and sadness and pain, and I had no idea what to do with it. I clutched a pillow close to my heart.

Miguel came back out in a white towel, which hung over his hips dangerously. I slowly shifted my head to look at him, hoping no sudden movement will prove how infatuated I am with his body.

He opened the drawer near me, curling down so his abs clenched, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and boxers from a cabinet. When he processed my dumbfounded stare, he scoffed, and pushed his body up, using his hand on the blanket near my thigh as support.

My ears went pink.

The shower ran in the background of the room as I tapped my fingers on my knee. A part of me wanted to knock on the door and get some sort of reaction from Miguel. Another part of me wanted to meet with Gwen, or swing around the Society. But here I am.

Locked in his room.

An idea sparked into my mind.

I'm going to have fun with this.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

When Miguel came out of the shower, he was wearing his classic color of red sweatpants. All of his sweatpants are really high quality, I realized. I guess he pays attention to things like that.

But me, on the other hand, chose to wear less clothing than the last time he saw me. I had already changed out of my skirt and heels from the afternoon, into a pair of Miguel's oversized shorts. He grumbled about how I looked like a clown, but didn't protest my body covered with his clothing.

I stripped the sweatpants, wearing similar underwear to the one he had slid to the side of my thighs this morning. My small purple top and tight underwear were the only things I was wearing. I wonder if Miguel enjoyed how he had fucked me in these. Fuck, I can't believe we did that. It's like nothing changed in our dynamic of a relationship, but the thought of touching him is blazing in my mind. I want it to be the same for him.

My lacy black underwear was riding up the curves of my ass, and I waited patiently, actually attempting to read a book about Metaphysics.

Miguel threw the batch of his old clothing in a bag of laundry, and stopped by the bed to drop his web shooters. His eyes shot to mine for a second, and he looked back to what he was doing. Only a second later, he processed what I was wearing, and focused on my body.

He was shameless in the way his eyes devoured my figure, the red flickering down my hips, legs, and then up again to my face.

"Scarlett." He paused, and stared back down at my hips, his breath slightly heavier. "Are you wearing the panties I fingered you in?"

Shit, this was definitely a bad idea. I am not this bold.

I could've shrunk into the shape of my shoulders, because of how embarrassed I felt right now. Yeah, I wore these to tease him. But he didn't have to be so upfront about it.

"No! These..are a similar pair."

He trailed his eyes of fire down to my groin again, and subconsciously licked his bottom lip.

"Yeah. Very similar."

I burned in my skin, my stomach doing uncontrollable flips. Why does he remember?

I squeezed my legs together, and placed the book on the drawer beside me.

"Are you gonna have a problem with it?"

Okay, I regret that too.

Miguel's eyes contorted to filthy amusement. "No. Not at all. I might have a problem with that attitude, though."

The conceited tone of his voice was so hot. Why did he have to be so hot?

I decided to push his limits. This game we're playing is exhilarating me more than any villain-chase I've had.

"Oh, yeah?"

Miguel smirked, and rested his hand on the nightstand near me. His body was practically leaning over me, his scent of spice hitting my nose.

"Yeah. But I might have to fuck that pretty mouth again to get you to shut up."

A babble of shock slipped from my throat. My face was probably the color of his eyes now, burning so hot that I felt feverish. Nerves in my stomach electrified when he said those words, and the space between my thighs begun to experience a needing sensation.

I am disappointed with my body for being so turned on by Miguel, so fast.

"I-don't-"

Miguel laughed, an unusual sound. It was different from his small scoffs, or chuckles. It was a smooth, open sound. I couldn't hide the way my heart thrummed at it. I wanted to hear him laugh again.

He settled on the side of the bed next to me, and clicked off a small table light.

As if he was trying to torture me, he just dropped those words on me, and then left us in the darkness. I sinked into the blanket, and covered my body carefully. I realized that he hadn't told me to move yet.

Fuck, my heart is betraying me.

"Scar?"

My breath hitched at the softness in his voice. "Yes?"

Miguel was silent for a few seconds. I heard a faint rustling of him laying down, and he murmured fluidly,

"Sleep well."

It's been four days since Miguel put me on house arrest. Every morning, afternoon, and night, he brings hot plates stacked with food, slides them on the nightstand, and walks out without uttering a word. Every now and then he stays in the room, clicking things on his orange screens or arguing with Lyla.

But for the most part, it's been quiet.

I've worked on my training like normal, just without him. I memorized the binary code of my invisibility ability so cleanly, that I don't need to think the words, I just need to will my body to disappear.

I've explored every crack, every crevice of Miguel's office.

It's sort of peaceful. I've realized that I've grown comfortable in Miguel's presence. He makes me feel stronger, like I have more potential then I think of myself.

It was another silent morning, sunlight barely lighting through the tiny cracks of his room. I was stretching on the cold tile, straddling my legs and pushing on my hamstrings. The door swung open, and I turned my head to see Miguel's mouth dropped. He seemed dumbfounded for a second, and I didn't realize why until I remembered the position I was in.

"Uh...I can leave you in privacy if you want..."

"No!" My cheeks burned as I repositioned my body in a way my legs weren't spread out for him. I hopped to my feet, and shimmied my t-shirt over my frame awkwardly.

Miguel held out a plate, wavering slightly. "Well. Here." He pushed the plate forward again, and I took it, sitting on the floor with the bed frame against my back.

Miguel sat directly across from me, a healthy couple of feet between us. He had a similar plate too, white and stacked with meat and vegetables. I picked at the strange food in front of me. Most of the time, we had run of the mill breakfast food at Spider Society. Either way, most Spider-Men really like sandwiches.

But the food in front of me was far more complex than a deli bagel. A layered shape of some danish pastry, an blood red jam spilling out of a small heart in the middle. Two eggs with gracefully splayed micro-greens and spices were on my plate as well, and an array of peaches and blueberries faintly touched the pastry, but not the eggs.

I raised my eyebrow, searching for why Miguel had brought me such an exquisite plate, but he kept his eyes on his large sirloin steak. Weirdo.

I grabbed my pastry, sticky around the edges, and took a bite. I practically moaned.

"Oh my god, Miguel. That's so good. Did Fiona make it?" Fiona was Miguel's private chef, an AI bot who ran the cafeteria.

Miguel looked up, and wiped his mouth. "No." His voice was gruff. "I cooked it."

The amusement in my voice was too potent to hide. "You cook? You're a pastry chef?"

Miguel scowled, and set down his fork. "No- It's just a hobby. It's whatever. Not a big deal."

I looked down again, tracing the beautiful plate. The half eaten heart in the middle of the confectionary made me arch my eyebrows again.

I held the heart up above my own. "Oh? This seems like a big deal to me."

If Miguel had ever blushed, it would be now.

"I didn't know what shape to use," he spat, cutting his steak vigorously.

I smiled. What he did was really cute. A heart for me...

"Thank you, Miguel. It's actually really good."

Miguel nodded at me dismissively, but I could tell the compliment went a long way, because his face seemed to soften.

My heart warmed even more.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"Gwen? You there?" My voice traveled through the door.

"Yes!" She exclaimed through the door. I heard a rustle with a knob, and barged in the room. She was wearing her suit, the hoodie balancing over his forehead.

"Woah." I gestured the suit. "Where are you going with that?"

Gwen didn't look at me, and made her way to the middle of the room.

"Gwen?" I asked, my voice wavering.

She turned back to me, a wince of pain forming on her face.

"We're sort of...going on a mission."

My mouth lowered into a frown. "Who's we?"

Gwen twiddled her thumbs awkwardly. "Oh you know. Me, Jess, Miguel... the entire Society." She cringed.

"What?" I slammed my hand to my cheek. "Everyone's going? Except for me?!"

Gwen sighed, and swung a web, rocking her body on the thin white string. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just... no one can really afford any more mistakes after last time. With Reiner. And not to mention...he escaped when you met with him." Gwen put a defensive hand up. "I'm not saying you have anything to do with it, but you know how it looks on paper, right?"

I nodded, disappointment already sinking in my stomach. I had already felt alone, but now I'm going to be the only Spider-person on Earth-928?

No.

"No!"

Gwen looked at me, hesitance lining her face.

"Scar, you don't really have a choice."

I shook my head. "I'll find a way to convince Miguel, one way or another."

Gwen had a weird look on her face, like she was wondering what my "other" was. I reached for her hand, clasping it in a pleading gesture.

"Can you get my suit out from my room and bring it here? I promise I'll get his permission." I smiled tentatively.

Gwen groaned, then jumped down from her spider web. She grumbled a small "fine," and shut me in the room, the previous light shining from the open entryway gone.

Alone again.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

It's the first time Miguel had ever come back so late. I tapped my foot on the floor, waiting for him in the dark of night. My eyes grew tired, and I shook my head to wake up.

I can't have the wet dream fiasco happen again.

The door opened, so quietly I didn't recognize Miguel was the one who had turned the knob. I realized he was trying to stay quiet for me. He had thought I was already asleep.

That unexpected flutter of my heart came to be again.

"Miguel?" I asked, softness falling over my voice.

"Scarlett." He sounded surprised at the fact I was awake, and I clicked on a small light.

Miguel looked more exhausted then I had ever saw him. His dark hair was a mess on his head, and red circles coated his under eyes. He was wearing red shirt with wrinkles, which is even more unusual- Miguel always irons.

"What's wrong?" I jumped up, running to the area in front of him. My hand grazed his cheek. I couldn't help it, the way he had widened his eyes at my touch- gave me some sort of deep thrill.

He grabbed my hand, and dropped it to my side. "Nothing."

We were still holding hands when I spoke, inquisitiveness lining my voice. "It doesn't seem like nothing."

Miguel looked down at me, and let go, sighing in defeat. He swung his body to the platform, and I heard the scratch of his talons on the metal. "Reiner. We have to deal with him tomorrow, and I have no idea how. He escaped prison, Scar. I tried to reinforce another version of amno-chains on his cell, but I won't be surprised if he finds his way out of those, too."

I walked to the direct area in front of the platform. "Then let me help."

Miguel's eyes flashed at me. "No."

I groaned. "Why not? You should be well aware I'm not on Reiner's side."

"I can't risk anything again. You fucked up, Scar. Learn to live with it."

The hardness in his voice stung. I blinked a couple times, then balled up my fists.

"No. I'm not letting you get away with that. I'm probably the only actual chance you have on catching Reiner. If I don't, you can lock me up, for like, forever, I don't care. But he's the only one who trusts me, Miguel."

The silence of thought fell over the room. I wanted to know more, I needed to know more.

"What happened with you and Reiner?"

Miguel was silent for a minute. "We...we're friends. We both had pain. Pain that needed vengeance to heal." I shuddered at that.

"But why did you...lie to him?" My voice was quiet.

Miguel inhaled. "Because I couldn't have someone mess up the world again. Reiner's too prideful- he could mess up the lives of trillions, without even trying to."

I shook my head. "You could've confronted him."

Miguel laughed without humor, and jumped off the platform, swinging his body to the tile. "It's not as easy as you think, Scar. You don't know much about the multiverse."

Anger fueled my words, because I didn't want to be dumb and ignorant. I didn't want him to see me like that.

"Try me. I want to know."

Miguel looked at me, a strange sense of admiration in the red pools of his eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he muttered,

"Get some rest. We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow."

It took me a second to realize what he meant-

I was going on the mission.

I ran after Miguel, laughing in the wind as I attempted to catch up with his long strides. We were climbing the S.S building, the night stars glittering in my peripheral.

"Wait!" I panted, grabbing a ledge and hauling my body up. Miguel had already reached the roof, and I jerked forward to the rising brick, swinging my legs over the rooftop bridge. As I caught my breath, I glazed my eyes over the view of Nueva York.

There were thousands, maybe millions, of twinkling building lights surrounding the area. I felt like I was in a magical realm, just a small speck of dust surrounded by incredible beauty.

Miguel positioned himself over the building ledge, letting his feet swing. I joined him, staring at the green lights twinkling thousands of miles away from here.

"It's beautiful." My voice was soft, softer than normal. But how could my voice be anything other than quiet when surrounded with the beauty of this world?

This world. The world meaning Nueva York, Miguel, the S.S.

I was home.

Miguel sighed quietly, and I closed my eyes, feeling a cold breeze of wind wash over my face. "Yeah. It is."

"So, you sleep here?" I bit my lip, twirling my fingers in my lap.

Miguel laughed hoarsely, and stared at me, his eyes glinting with that familiar teasing blaze. "On the rooftop? Who do you think I am?"

I paused. "Spider man?"

Miguel let out a brief laugh again, lighter this time. Each time he did, my heart warmed a little more.

He unclenched his jaw, and rested his body on his arms, the veins and smooth skin of his muscular build almost glittering in the moonlight. "No, no. I sleep in headquarters too, just on the office platform."

I pause, crinkling my brow. "You sleep in headquarters? You have been sleeping in the same room as me, this entire time?"

Miguel looked away again. And then softly,

"Yes."

I dropped my eyes away too, shock too great to hide on my face. I can't believe that he had slept above me this entire time.

All of my dreams, all of my....not so appropriate dreams...

I stared up at him again, only to find his eyes already on mine, on my mouth. I unconsciously sucked my bottom lip, a burst of butterflies returning in my stomach. And that beautiful, horrible glint in his eyes told me one thing-

"Did you...." I couldn't finish the sentence without my face turning bright red.

Miguel smirked, the white of his fangs too shiny for me not to feel afraid, all merged within the lust and passion he makes me feel every time he speaks in that pretty low voice.

"Did I hear you moaning my name in your sleep?"

I audibly gasped, and brought my head down to my lap. My body was warm from embarrassment, and I hated it, and I loved it.

His gaze darkened, and he wrapped a hand around my neck. My eyes closed, the shame crawling up my neck and my face.

"Mi vida, I didn't want you to stop." His grip around my body tightened. "I wanted to hear you say my name like that again," his head tilted up, the red of his eyes puncturing my heart, "And again."

I can't breathe.

I can't breathe

Breathe

He leaned in. And he kissed me.

And it was so strange, the way a man who was rough and beat around the edges, sharp in claws and insults, a man who was hurt from the world- can be so gentle, so soft with the one he touched. His lips felt like air on mine, warm and breezy and so, so, comforting.

He tasted like something familiar, something I fell in love with a long time ago. I let my body relax, and he grabbed my waist, pulling me into his lips.

All I wanted was him. All I needed was his body on mine, ingrained into my skin like a tattoo, because he was too beautiful to forget, to not imprint on my body.

"Do you want to go inside?" Miguel's lips met my forehead, and it was weird, because we weren't this. We weren't easy and loving and a forehead-kissing couple- we were mean, and loud, and angry. We aren't happy. We were made to be sad, to be ruined, to ruin each other.

But not now.

Now, we were perfect.

We were us, who we were supposed to be- like an alternate version of our relationship, something happy, liberating, even.

"Yeah." My voice was breaking from a whisper to a plead, and I had no idea why. "Let's go inside."

Miguel stretched, and stood up, letting his hand fall to reach mine, so effortlessly. I reached up, and held on to him.

With our hands laced, and his heat warming my shoulder, we walked down the stairs of the building, feeling stars on our backs.

Maybe this is temporary. Maybe tomorrow, he'll ignore me like he used to, and he'll continue calling me vulgar names, a practical spit in my face. Maybe, maybe all of this has a time limit, and we are reaching the end.

But this is love. No matter how fleeting it is, I realize, I am drowning in the depths of love, for this beautiful angel sent from hell.

Miguel O Hará.

I gripped his hand tighter.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

can we have a shy innocent ethan (beginning of scream) texts with ethan, dating??

Ofc!

Ethan (shy) texting from reader!

(Contains mentions of smut)

Ethan: hey?

Y/n: hey lol

Ethan: is this y/n?

Y/n: who else would it be

Ethan: sorry

Y/n: for what??

Ethan: I don’t know how to talk with girls

Y/n: LOL

Y/n: it’s okayyy lol just pretend I’m not a girl

Ethan: that’s hard

Ethan: you’re very feminine

Ethan: sorry

Ethan: that’s a weird thing to say

Y/n: I see it as a compliment, haha.

Ethan: good, it is. How are you?

Y/n: mad at chemistry. Wbu?

Ethan: why are you mad at chemistry?

Y/n: I don’t care too much about molar mass conversions

Ethan: I’m quite good at those.

Y/n: of course you are, nerd

Ethan: I feel like that was a compliment too.

Y/n: it was

Ethan: it’s good weather

Y/n: you know that you asked me out, right? You don’t have to small-talk anything. There’s no need to prove yourself.

Y/n: I already like you, Ethan.

Ethan: I like you too.

Ethan: a lot.

Ethan: like very much

Ethan: because

Y/n: I would love to hear what you’re going to say but you don’t need to convince me of your devotion to me 😭

Ethan: that’s fine. I just hope you know I am very devoted.

Y/n: I know. (:

Ethan: then what should we talk about?

Ethan: if you don’t like small talk

Ethan: I can talk to you about the depths of my soul,

Ethan: but I want to keep you around, so I won’t.

Y/n: what do you mean?

Y/n: I guarantee I’m more messed up than you.

Ethan: why would you think that?

Y/n: I have a dark past.

Ethan: try me.

Y/n: maybe I’ll tell you. but why did you think you had a “darker” past than me

Ethan: me to know,

Ethan: you to find out.

Ethan: we should watch a movie sometime

Y/n: a date

Y/n: ?

Ethan: a commemoration of our relationship.

Y/n: what would we watch?

Ethan: hmm…

Y/n: rom-com?

Ethan: I was thinking of something more thrilling.

Y/n: hunger games

Ethan: too enjoyable.

Y/n: too enjoyable?

Ethan: I got it.

Ethan: what about scream?

[imaslutforwritingshit]

oh my god you're like the only writer i've found whose requests are open rn

so basically ive been reading this rlly good book where the male protagonist is like rlly tall and super sweet and a hockey player and now i very desperately need ethan landry as that with like a short reader who maybe has some attitude

you can add smut (preferably) but if you can't think of anything for it it's fine!

OKAY

(Hockey Ethan Landry x fem. short reader, that ice skates)

(Part One- teasing, plot)

Sorry to the requester! This took a while like four months 😭 but luckily it’s skating season!

Ethan Landry ❤️‍🔥

Julie Weston 🤍

I started the routine again. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. Wake up, grab my skates, go on the ice. I forget all of my problems when I skate, letting them fall under my feet as I rake the blades into powdery ice. Today, the rink is empty, given no one comes this early. It’s 5:00 in the morning, and if any person would be here right now, my guess is that they would be a sports player, considering how insane they all are.

Skating has been a part of my life forever, since I was a child, even. I don’t let myself think about how long it’s been, how much has changed. I just ride, to quote Lana, whose music I immediately put on, raising the volume of my AirPods to (almost) an extreme level. I begin the comfortable act of sliding my legs, bending my knees, then faster, until the ice is blending and whirling under my skates, and I am speeding in the rink, distracted by the music in my ears. I do a backwards spiral, grabbing my leg and twirling, then a backwards spin. I feel elevated, euphoric, and then, I feel a hard wall slam into my backside.

I trip over my skates, and fall to the ice, hearing my leggings rip from the impact. Groaning, I push myself up from my hands. Not blood, just a scrape on my legs. I sigh, and feel that my AirPods fell out of my ears when I had slammed to the ground. As I searched the ice for them, a low, gravely tone behind me scoffed.

I jumped, immediately turning unsuccessfully to meet the person. I stumbled, and straightened my legs out of fear, like a small deer in the wintertime. But no sheer amount of embarrassment could prepare me for who I saw behind me.

Ethan.

Ethan Landry.

When he met my expression, he smiled, his dark eyes glinting with the satisfaction of my surprise. His hair was messy, as if he had just woke up from bed, like me. He was wearing a black hoodie, and grey sweatpants, which seemed normal, but what stuck out to me was the hockey stick in his hands.

“I’m not gonna play with you, you know.” I stammered, pointing at the stick.

Ethan laughed smugly, and I swear I could’ve just slapped him then and there. He tapped the base of the stick on the ground. “Yeah? I was hoping you would.” He dropped his eyes to my smaller body, and I straightened my shoulders in an effort to be taller. “You certainly have the…build of a hockey player.”

I rolled my eyes, and huffed, grabbing my AirPods awkwardly in front of him. I could feel his stare down my back, and I really wished he wasn’t in direct view of my ass. I moved on the ice faster than I thought possible to get away from him, finding a corner where I practicing skating drills in an effort to sit with my thoughts. Ethan was moving a puck casually on the other side of the rink, and I made certain that he didn’t see me staring.

When I was in elementary school, Ethan Landry was every girl’s crush. How could he not be? With his dreamy eyes, his soft, tender voice, cute curls? I could remember every friend I ever had begging him for his number, or to sit with him during lunchtime. But no, not me. I saw who he really was. He was cocky, so much so that every time I walked by him, he would ask me if I was ready to admit I liked him. But I never did, and even if I would, he would never hear about it. Ethan would pester me, throw dodgeballs at my shoulder, tap my thumb repeatedly in 7up, until I glared at him, ultimately losing the game.

And I was fine hating Ethan Landry. I enjoyed it. I liked knowing that I was the only one who knew what he was- a playboy.

In 5th grade, I had a friend named Allie. She always tried to convince me to “confess” that I liked Ethan. She told me nobody could resist him, and there’s no point in me pretending that I didn’t like him. But it didn’t matter how many times I told her I wouldn’t. She already had a plan.

Allie wrote a fake love letter, filled with the grossest things a 5th grader would possibly write, or know about. Allie signed the letter with my name; putting it on Ethan’s desk the morning of English class. I will never forget the look on Ethan’s face after she told me what she did. It’s the first time I saw him blush.

Probably because Allie wrote, “I want to sleep with you,” in the letter, even if she didn’t know what that meant yet.

Needless to say, I never talked to that girl again, until she moved schools. And Ethan stopped bothering me after that. Only recently, in high school, the taunting and teasing has come up again. And with it, memories of 5th grade. I just need him out of my life. And the worst part is, he’s still just as fawned over, if not more, than before. Every girl I ever knew had once crushed on him. He’s gotten significantly taller, around 6’3, and his form filled out nicely after enrolling into hockey 7 years ago. I never went to any of his games, and honestly, I don’t care to. He’s not my friend, my enemy, or my lover. He’s nothing to me.

I took a break from skating, huffing over the side of the rink walls. I heard him skate over to me, and I straightened my body again, my heart suddenly faster. I didn’t dare look at him.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, hesitant. I ignored him. “Hey.” I only stared at him, feigning boredom. He gritted his teeth. “Julie, can I talk to you?”

“No.” I turned around and began skating on the ice. I heard Ethan groan behind me and follow my trail.

“What happened to us?” His voice was light, but the words cut deep.

I whirled around, putting my hands in my hips to seem like my fingers weren’t shaking.

“What do mean, us? There has been no us, there will never be an us,” I exclaim, skating backwards. “The last time I checked, the only thing you ever wanted us to be was the boy who makes fun of the girl, and the girl who loveeeddd the boy so much!” I mocked him, rolling out the word with an irritating gesture. I huffed in cold air, and whirled around for the final time, taking my time to exit the rink.

As I clanked my skates on the warm carpet of the bench area, I looked back, seeing Ethan’s eyes on mine. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down, and butterflies warmed my core. I forced my eyes down, and began disassembling my skates, stuffing them in the light pink bag I got for my 18th birthday.

“You know that I knew about Allie, right?”

His deep voice shocked me out of my state of pitiful thoughts. I shook my hair out of my face, and stared up, Ethan suddenly nearing the wall that separated the rink from the sitting area. I slid on my boots, and wiped melted water droplets from my pants as I stood.

“What?” My voice was weary. I just wanted to be home. School was tomorrow, and I would prefer to keep my Sunday Ethan-free from now on.

He stepped into the area, and sat down on the bench opposite to me. He was out of breath, red cheeked, with a smooth glaze of sweat gleaming on his sharp jawline. As he dusted off his sweats and kicked off his skates, he scoffed.

“I knew that Allie wrote the letter.” Silence filled the heavy room, only the heaters buzzing from afar the sound I could hear. Ethan finally stood up, black sneakers on his feet. He unzipped his jacket slowly, his eyes burning onto mine. As he stripped his body, I could see the muscles lining fabric underneath his shirt. I had to clench my thighs, bite my lip, not to go crazy.

Because, the secret was?

I’ve been attracted to Ethan Landry since the day I met him. And I’ve been trying, trying so hard to convince myself that I wasn’t.

He tugged on his sleeves, and casually zipping his bag as he talked. “She told me that she wrote it. And the reason that I was ignoring you after all of it wasn’t because I was embarrassed that you wanted to sleep with me.”

He stood near me, now towering over my frail body. I can’t believe how much taller he got, and he closed space between us, until I was up against the wall.

My nerves were burning, and his eyes were dark, fire pooling in his dangerously beautiful irises. He leaned in, his husky voice in my ear. “It’s because I was upset that you didn’t want to.”

My mouth dropped. “You were ten, and you knew what sleeping with people was?” That wasn’t on my mind. The thought that he would want me too… it drove me insane. I rubbed my legs together harder, pressure in my core.

Ethan laughed, but in a way that almost sounded painful. He leaned back, grazing my body with his eyes. “Jesus, not then.” His face suddenly got serious, as he rested his eyes on my hips, my breasts, and then my lips again.

“Now.”

My eyes opened wider than I could have imagined, and I gasped, letting breath open my lungs.

“Y-you want to sleep with me now?” I straightened my back, my eyes drilled into his.

His expression glinted with dark lust, a smile forming on his face as he took in my shock.

“Yeah.” He whispered, grabbing my wrist and sliding my arm over my head.

“Is that a problem?”

[imaslutforwritingshit]

I AM SO MAD I HATE JT WHEN TUMBLR DELETES UR DRAFTS BECAUSE YOU FORGET TO SAVE IR YOU DONT HAVE WIFI ARGHHHAHAHAHAHAH

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry Would Do! (But it progressively gets more specific)

1. Enjoy hot wings and spicy food

1.5. Grab you by your shirt when you walk too fast

2. Start giggling when someone cries, then stops laughing when he realizes no one else is

3. Would say “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” and defend breakfast for the rest of his life

4. Would accidentally be too skilled with a knife, making it twirl and throw it around, then realize he’s with his family, and they could suspect him.

5. Would go to a movie theatre, and after opening the first door, accidentally slam into the second door which is glass, and be upset, but then laugh it off

6. Would eat something, and spit it out when he tastes a giant piece of black pepper, then start sticking out his tongue and trying to get it off, and then eventually going to the bathroom and wiping it off with a towel.

7. Would go to class late, with rain in his hair, and then sit down, already in a bad mood, but then his wet hair would drop on his journal, and mess up his handwriting, and he would bang his fists on the table in the awkwardly silent classroom, and cover his face while breathing hard and looking down to his pants.

This was so stupid lemme know if you want more but with a more romantic Ethan LMAO

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Okay so I’m team Jess but I’m forever in my heart in love with Tristan. Because what the fuck

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text- (Fem Friend Reader) PART 3

Warnings- mentions of smut, knifeplay, sexting, fearplay, confessions to murder.

If you guys like this, I’ll make an extended version, where I write a story in Y/n’s pov that happens after this texting story:)

The Ballad Of Terror

Y/n: hey loser

Ethan: Loser? that’s new.

Y/n: but true

Ethan: no good night text, bunny?

Y/n: ugh stop calling me that. I promise I don’t jump that weird.

Ethan: in PE class you look like a rodent

Y/n: shut up

Y/n: I want something else first before you get your good night text

Ethan: let me guess. You need homework answers?

Y/n: I don’t get anything in science. I don’t even know what a molecule is.

Ethan: luckily I’m smart.

Y/n: luckily.

Ethan: click to view

Y/n: thank u <3

Ethan: np.

Ethan: hey, how are you and David doing together?

Y/n: why?

Ethan: I’m just curious

Y/n: maybe being curious isn’t always the right thing to be

Ethan: I’m your friend who wants you to be happy.

Y/n: I am happy

Ethan: with David?

Y/n: why are you asking that like david can’t make me happy?

Ethan: because I don’t think he could

Y/n: he does.

Ethan: oh, yeah?

Y/n: yes.

Ethan: as in, present tense?

Y/n omg yes

Y/n: why do you care so much?

Ethan: you broke up with him last night.

Y/n: how did you know that?

Y/n: Ethan??

Y/n: who told you

Ethan: no one told me.

Y/n: then why the fuck do you know?

Ethan: I watched you get that text. You cried over your bedside table.

Ethan: don’t leave me on read

Ethan: cmon

Y/n: how do you know

Ethan: I watched you through the window.

Y/n: you’re my friend

Y/n: this is scaring me

Ethan: Don’t be scared. Remember when you told me that you loved the real me?

Y/n: yes.

Ethan: this is the real me.

Y/n: a stalker?

Ethan: For you,

Ethan: Yes.

Y/n: if you were watching me, what was I wearing?

Ethan: That Ivy League shirt I bought for you in 2018.

Y/n: what pants, then ??

Ethan: oh, that’s the best part.

Y/n: please

Ethan: you weren’t wearing any

Ethan: you hiked your thighs to your chest

Ethan: you were wearing black panties

Y/n: you’re a fucking creep

Ethan: don’t be like that.

Y/n: how long has this been going on?

Ethan: How long have I been in love with you?

Ethan: or watching you sleep

Ethan: ?

Y/n: i should call the police. do you stalk other girls?

Ethan: you’re the only one for me

Ethan: nobody makes me feel the way you make me feel

Ethan: All those girls meant nothing to me. They couldn’t replace you.

Y/n: what girls?

Y/n: you’re a manwhore now?

Ethan: don’t be stupid. I didn’t fuck anyone

Ethan: I killed them

Y/n: im calling the police

Ethan: I disconnected the system from your number

Ethan: you can’t call anyone for help

Y/n: what do you want from me?

Ethan: Don’t you want to know?

Ethan: Why I did it?

Y/n: no

Ethan: I want to hurt you. Is that bad?

Ethan: it just turns me on so much

Ethan: to imagine you begging for me

Ethan: begging me not to slice you open

Ethan: fuck your brains out until your screaming my name

Ethan: i want to use you

Ethan: and you and I both know you would enjoy it

Y/n: you’re ghostface

Ethan: oh

Ethan: what gave it away ?

Y/n: you piece of shit.

Ethan: I don’t think you should insult me right now

Y/n: why? you gonna kill me??

Ethan: don’t tempt me.

Y/n: but apparently I already am. I’m basically asking for a knife to my throat, aren’t I?

Y/n: to watch your cock enter me as you choke me

Y/n: god, it would turn me on so much!!!

Ethan: I don’t take sarcasm too well

Ethan: if your asking for it, I’ll give it to you.

Y/n: im blocking you

Ethan: you can’t hide

Y/n: I’ll lock my doors. Get my parents to call the cops when they come back.

Ethan: your parents aren’t home?

Ethan: That changes things.

Y/n: I locked everything

Y/n: leave me alone

Ethan: why did you assume I was outside your house?

Y/n: please leave me alone

Ethan: let’s play a game of hide and seek, y/n.

Ethan: you run

Ethan: you hide

Ethan: and we’ll see if I can catch you.

Ethan: and if I do…

Ethan: god, I love making you my victim.

Y/n: Ethan please

Ethan: 3

Ethan: 2

Ethan: 1

Ethan: time to run, bunny.

🩷

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Guys I’ve been literally drowning in school work but I’ll put out Edward Cullen imagines soon, as well as A Dangerous Wish Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara), and another Ethan Landry text imagine

Yippie 😤

[imaslutforwritingshit]

HOW TO PERSIST?

So, now we all know how self concept is one of the most important key to manifestation. How you view yourself in relation to the world around you is extremely important and can greatly affect how you manifest. However, persistence is another key to manifestation that often gets overlooked. It is as important as self concept.

Now, I know why it can be hard. At some point of my life, i couldn't persist no matter what. It was hard for me. 3D and circumstances made it hard for me to persist. However, Manifesting in general is very easy but it does require a certain amount of discipline and mental work. It truly gets difficult for most people, when an unfavorable circumstance happens in 3D. Everything seems to be going well but then all of a sudden everything starts falling and you start seeing the opposite of your desires. Then circumstances and everything going on around you, makes you question, doubt yourself and even start spiraling, not knowing what to do. 

Everyone has been in this kind of situation and they don't know what to do. So, now I'm gonna tell you what you should do when you're in this situation, no matter what the circumstances are.

• WHAT DOES PERSISTING MEANS?

per·sist  /pərˈsist/ verb

continue firmly or obstinately in an opinion or a course of action in spite of difficulty, opposition, or failure.

Basically, persisting means to continue to dwell in the new assumptions despite the difficulties or obstacles that may come in the way.  

• WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT?

"An assumption, though false, if persisted in will harden into fact" — Neville Goddard

No matter how crazy your assumption sounds, no matter how delusional you sound, if you PERSIST into it, it will harden into fact. The 3D will always conform it in front of your eyes.

• IS BEING PERSISTENT AND CONSISTENT SAME?

People often confuse persistence with consistently. Affirming 24/7 till they pass out or their head hurts which is so wrong. Persisting isn’t affirming, it's knowing that your desire is inevitable. You feel safe and secure knowing THAT CREATION IS FINISHED. The moment you’ve finished your visualisation, affirmations, SATs or have just simply stated that your desire is yours, then your desire has already been completed. Your “job” is to just continue KNOWING that it’s yours, which is basically PERSISTING.

• HOW TO PERSIST?

Persisting means to live in the end, to completely live in your imagination (4D) and to ignore any unfavorable circumstances that the 3D may throw at you. Live in your imagination as it is the ONLY true reality that matters to you. When you see something you don't like in the 3D, turn inwards to your imagination and live within.

1. TAKE A BREAK: The main cause of a spiral is usually a result of seeing something unfavorable in the 3D and becoming overwhelmed. You feel like doing something to change the situation, to make it better somehow. Therefore you panic and try different techniques, methods at a time to fix the circumstances. However doing this will not help you fix anything. It will only manifest the opposite. No, let me ask you something. If you had your desire, would any difficult circumstance trouble you? Would it affect you negatively? No right?. All you're doing is interfering with your manifestations. Instead of trying to make it happen, you just have to let it happen. So, i would recommend you to take a break from ALL manifesting-related things for a few days for a week. Like delete tumblr, instagram, unsubscribe from LOA youtube channels. In this time period, i suggest you to do meditation, yoga nidra and journal out your feelings. Let yourself feel any emotions and vent out whatever’s bothering you. Don’t keep it all bottled up. Let it out for once and all.

2. DON'T SEEK VALIDATION FROM 3D: When you’re truly in the state of KNOWING (you already have your desires), you will be much less likely to spiral. Why? well, as i stated in the first point, we spiral primarily because we experience something unfavorable in the 3D. But when we’re in the state of knowing, we KNOW that the 3D is temporary and that our desires ARE COMING, no matter what, it’s inevitable. No matter what happens, your desires are already yours, is all you need to understand.

3. IMPROVE YOUR SELF CONCEPT: Self concept is the only thing you need to manifest. If your self concept is good then nothing can stop you from getting your desires. Now, after you feel like you’ve taken enough time “off” from manifesting consciously, now you can start easing back in. I recommend you to do a mental diet. It's easy, simple and so effective. All you have to do is be conscious of your thoughts, and flip your negative thoughts to positive. Whenever you get a negative thought related to your manifestation, just flip it around and be like "no, i already have my desire". That's it's, it's that easy.

• CONCLUSION

Persistence can be very hard sometimes but it is extremely important in order to manifest your desires! The best thing to do is to remember that you're the god and remind yourself that circumstances do not matter. Always, remain faithful to your new assumptions and don't let outer circumstances rattle you. Circumstances are temporary, they change in seconds. And, You are the god of your reality and everything has to go your way, no matter what! Never give up. Always persist, persist and persist. The 3D will always conform in front of your eyes.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o (Part 2)

Gender neutral, contains sexting/smut

Warnings- knifeplay fantasies, sadism fantasies, killer trope.

tags!- @nowitsmissing

THREE THOUSAND MILES

Y/n: i miss u sm

Y/n: im thinking of you

Ethan: I miss you too.

Y/n: what’s it like? the forest?

Ethan: it smells like shit. The only good thing about this cabin is how vacant the area is.

Y/n: now, how many people have you already killed on your family vacation, ethan?

Ethan: zero

Y/n: i don’t believe u

Ethan: it’s tempting. I would line up their bodies and impale them like the Voivode of Wallachia.

Y/n: huh?

Ethan: I need you teach you about history, pretty girl. You seem to lack knowledge in the cruelest dictators of all time.

Y/n: like adolf hitler? not really a flex to have nazis in your brain

Ethan: No no no. Like, the most inspiring and overall good torturers.

Y/n: is anyone who tortures people a good person?

Ethan: I am.

Y/n: you’re a very bad person, ethan. no need to hide the truth from me.

Y/n: i like you for your darkness

Ethan: yeah?

Y/n: yeah

Ethan: would you still like me if I had a knife to your body?

Ethan: slicing scars into your skin

Ethan: making you mine

Y/n: what if I would?

Ethan: then you would be a fucking idiot.

Y/n: anything for you.

Ethan: Anything? Don’t tempt me.

Y/n: but I enjoy it so so much.

Ethan: if I was in town I would be by your house already

Ethan: i would open your window

Ethan: and fuck you so hard you would be begging me to stop

Ethan: I would choke you until you were seeing stars. I would force you to look at me

Ethan: watch me as I fucked you

Y/n: I want you so bad

Y/n: i would beg for it if it means I’d have you again

Ethan: slut

Ethan: you’re so weak. my fucking toy.

Ethan: I can’t believe how pathetic you are. I could have you my way, fuck you until you’re bleeding, and screaming

Ethan: I could kill you.

Y/n: the thrill of that excites me

Ethan: you really are a whore

Y/n: don’t act like you don’t enjoy it

Y/n: the thought of me so obedient to you.

Ethan: Oh, I’m not acting.

Y/n: I think you’re the whore, ethan

Y/n: fantasizing about me

Y/n: i bet your dirty mind can’t stop thinking of me stripping

Y/n: pleasing you

Ethan: god

Y/n: ?

Y/n: what?

Ethan: i can’t keep my hand out of my pants when i text you

Y/n: you’re touching yourself?

Ethan: yeah

Y/n: what are you thinking about?

Ethan: bending you over

Ethan: choking you while I fuck that tight body

Ethan: seeing you turn white with fear

Y/n: im touching myself too

Ethan: good

Y/n: i miss your cock inside of me

Y/n: im so empty without you

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m so close

Y/n: me too

Ethan: not yet

Y/n: please

Y/n: im edging myself

Ethan: i thought you liked the pain

Y/n: i do

Ethan: so endure it.

Ethan: you’re making me feral

Ethan: i’m gonna cum

Y/n: please

Y/n: i cant take it anymore

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m cumming

Y/n: i already did

Ethan: so desperate

Y/n: i miss your body so much

Ethan: you know what you do to me? I’m grinding my hips into my fist. my body is wet with my cum

Ethan: I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming your name

Y/n: id kill for you.

Ethan: I’ve already killed for you.

Y/n: I love you

Ethan: you shouldn’t.

Y/n: i can’t control the way you make my nerves catch on fire

Ethan: when I get home I’m gonna ruin you

Ethan: keep your window unlocked

Ethan: i can’t wait to see you shaking for me

Ethan: i love you too

Y/n: take a picture of a bear for me

Ethan: there’s no bears in this forest

Y/n: you’ll figure it out

Ethan: ig so

Ethan: anything for you, my love

Y/n: :)

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Guys I’m totally down to do requests just anon message me and I’ll listen 😭

Stuff I can write about-

Scream movie smut

Hunger games smut/angst

SPIDERVERSE SMUT

AHS smut

OC smut

Twilight smut

Joel Miller smut

HOL (Heroes of Olympus/Percy Jackson) Smut

Marvel smut

Book character Smut

HEATHERS SMUT

Other stuff I forgot lol

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o- charismatic killer trope.

1. SUNRISE SCARE

Ethan: Wake up, baby. I can see you sleeping in.

Y/n: i am awake. im already brushing my teeth.

Ethan: no, you aren’t. I’m watching you right now.

Y/n: how

Ethan: The window. You’re so vulnerable when you’re asleep.

Y/n: I can’t see you.

Ethan: But that’s the point, love.

Ethan: please get out of that nightgown, before I take it off for you.

Y/n: why? what is it doing to you?

Ethan: I’ll show you later.

Y/n: oh ?

Ethan: good morning by the way ❤️

2. TEASER

Y/n: hey. you get the answer for #12?

Ethan: Oh, dear. My girlfriend is cheating on the math homework.

Y/n: im not cheating, dummy. im asking an educational question.

Ethan: If you can cheat so easily on calculus, how do I know you’re loyal to me?

Y/n: because we both know what would happen to me if I would cheat on you, ethan.

Ethan: and what’s that?

Y/n: …

Ethan: you think I would kill you?

Y/n: don’t lie to me. we both know you can’t control yourself around me. i know you touched yourself while stalking me when we weren’t dating.

Ethan: such disgusting thoughts. I might need to fuck your brains out to get rid of them, don’t you think?

Y/n: in what way would you take my brains out? With a knife? Or with your cock?

Ethan: we’re in class

Y/n: are you hard right now?

Y/n: hello? it’s just a question.

Y/n: if you don’t answer me, i’ll ask Chad to fuck me instead. i’ll enjoy letting him bend me over.

Ethan: I can’t wait to see his blood on my hands. what day should I do it? today? kill him tonight?

Y/n: it was a joke. i just didn’t realize i turned you on that fast, ethan.

Ethan: don’t act dumb with me. you know what you’re fucking doing.

Y/n: no, i don’t. you should really answer my question.

Ethan: don’t act like you aren’t aware that I’m throbbing in my jeans

Ethan: stop acting like this

Ethan: i’m gonna fucking punish you so hard tonight

Y/n: lol because of giving you an erection?

Ethan: i can’t wait to see how much you’ll laughing when I’ll have a knife to your throat.

Ethan: making you scream with my dick.

Ethan: you want that?

Y/n: yes

Ethan: fucking whore.

Y/n: you love it.

Ethan: I do.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

SCREAM FOR ME- PART TWO

CHAPTER THREE

Every step I took in the school hallway was strategically placed. I had stared at every possible person who might've been the one who texted me, but I came up blank. No one seemed interested in me. Maybe envying, or admiring looks, but nobody had acted like they had some secret agenda on me.

I slammed my locker shut, and headed to the bustling cafeteria. I nodded a greeting to the jocks table, where Jamie Huang, the boy I paired up with for my chemistry project, was flipping water bottles. He smiled a toothy grin, and the water bottle landed on his foot.

I rolled my eyes, and made my way to my friends.

It was us- always us. Nothing could replace us.

Camille was trying to play Jenga with Cheeto puffs, and Tokie was bobbing his head to the music in his headphones.

Tokie, who's name actually was Antonio, had been Camille's boyfriend on and off for years. Everyone called him "Tokie," even though most people had no idea where the nickname came from.

Camille and Tokie's relationship is nothing more than ridiculous. They remained faithful as friends, but have withstood so many toxic arguments and petty fights, that it seemed better for the two of them to never become official. Of course, every now and then, Camille would race to my house and describe the way he had ran his hand through her hair, or kissed her so passionately she was sure it was the beginning of a true romance.

Tokie was always tapping on tables with his fingers, humming indistinct tunes. He wore sweatpants a size too big, and graphic tees so faded the words are invisible. Most of the time, though, Antonio was high. Pretty much his default mood- on cannabis.

Tokie's eyes lit up when he saw me. "Loca!"

I rolled my eyes, and settled between Tokie and Camille. "You are not Jacob Black. And that's a good thing."

Camille waved a Cheeto in my face. "Team Jacob forever!"

I swatted the orange chip out of my vision. "Ew. He's literally a dog."

The one thing I will never fail to argue about with Camille is Edward Cullen.

She laughed, and a joking glint appeared in her eyes. "Then I'm sure he's very good a certain sex position."

Tokie smirked, and playfully pushed her shoulder behind my back. She giggled, and threw another Cheeto at his face.

I feel uncomfortable-it's like being a physical third wheel. I stood up quickly, changing to the other side of the table.

"You guys need to figure out your relationship problems at least 3 feet away from me."

Tokie laughed. "No problems here." With that, Camille raised her eyebrows.

A sudden ding appeared from Camille's phone. She furrowed her brows a little, and picked up the device, the white light shining on her face.

And then she gasped, dropping the phone in her lap.

Tokie's eyes flashed with worry. "What's wrong, Cam? Is everyone okay?"

She distantly nodded, and opened the screen again, her voice shaking on each syllable.

"Yeah. I'm okay. But the deputy of the police department..."

I sat up straighter. "What?" The deputy, Hardin West, was the boss of Camille's mom, and a world- renounced asshole. I was waiting for his downfall after he had flagged me down, when I driving one mile more than the speed limit.

She breathed in, her chest rising quickly.

"He just died. The police department is in shambles, my mom said."

I squinted, and opened a can of Pepsi, taking a thoughtful sip before answering. "Yeah, well. Sucks to suck. That guy was a jerk, anyway. He totally gave me a speeding ticket when I was going, like, 20 miles an hour."

Camille shook her head. "No. No, that's not why I'm scared."

She raised her eyes to me, an unusual fear placed in the black pits below her eyelashes.

"Hardin was killed. Laura...Ghostface is back."

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔

Ghostface had came to Elk River back in the 90s. The psycho was caught by West, but only after killing 12 people.

We thought we were safe.

I struggled to grasp sentence structure. "Ghostface...back?"

Tokie cursed, slamming his hands down. "Shit. This is fucked up."

My silence was a sign of agreement.

A pattern formed in my head. The moment Ghostface is back, I get those stalking texts.

No. No, I can't put those two together. It will terrify me even more.

The thought that Ghostface was stalking me...I had to go to the police. But who would conduct the search of Ghostface if the deputy was gone?

I could hear the low whispers of the matter spreading around the cafeteria. Most kids had already been staring at their phones, fear buried in their hushed whispers.

The secret I was harboring about the stalker was bubbling in my throat, and I forced it down. The sounds of kids yelling, whispering, tapping on lunch trays had suddenly become too much for me to handle.

"I think...I need to go." I grabbed my backpack and hurled my body to the entrance of the school, hearing Camille's protest as a distant cry behind me.

The sound of my feet hitting the floor echoed through the hallways. I turned a right, and settled in a small crevice near my locker. I know it was pathetic, but I needed a break. If only for a second.

I settled my head on my knees, recounting everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. I didn't get time to feel sorry for myself, because the low stomp of shoes came from the other side of the hallway. I jerked my head up, to see a tall figure with messy dark hair walking towards me.

Oh.

Fuck.

My ex boyfriend of 2 years, Nikolai Adler. We were desperately obsessed with each other in 8th to 9th grade, but things change, right? His plain gray t-shirt hung loosely over his lean frame, and in his pale hand a hall pass dangled, the lanyard skimming the floor.

When Niko recognized my face, he halted, gazing over my body. My face flushed, and I stood up, repositioning my skirt over my legs.

"Oh. Hi." My voice uncertain, and I forced myself to look up.

Niko smiled shyly, and dropped his eyes down. "Hey, Lore."

That nickname used to drug me, drive me crazy.

But now the letters seem foreign in his mouth, like a ghost of my past.

"You..." I trailed off, looking at the hall pass in his hand. "What class are you in right now?"

He furrowed his brows slightly. "I'm in...uh- geometry right now."

Confusion jumped to my facial features. "Geometry? Last I remembered, you're a junior."

Niko blushed, and tucked a curl behind his ear. "Yeah, you're right. That was a stupid lie. I just didn't want to tell you, because you were always mad when I mentioned it."

With a friendly gesture, I pushed his shoulder. "Oh, c'mon. We aren't like that anymore."

I could've swore a twinge of pain flickered in his eyes, but he smoothed it out. "Fine. I'm in theatre again." He did jazz hands to emphasize the word.

I laughed. "Niko, I don't care. Good for you, pursuing your dreams and whatever. You do have a very beautiful singing voice."

Niko blushed harder, and tapped the hall pass on his thigh. 

"Thank you, Lore. You have a very beautiful...um..."

"Face?" I asked, hoping to spare his embarrassment, even if slightly.

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

I choked on what was half a laugh, and half a grunt of surprise. I didn’t know if he was actually complimenting me, or being sarcastic.

Niko flashed a smile, and looked down again. His voice sounded deeper than before, a throaty undertone reverberating under his smooth tone.

“Well, I have to go, Laura.”

I nodded, and settled in my corner, more comfortable than before. "Bye, Niko."

Niko smiled, and waved, his pale fingers dancing with the movement. Something shifted in his eyes, a dark unusual glint to his eyes. As if he knew something I didn't.

"I will." A sly smile formed on his lips, and a sudden spike of uncomfortableness made its way to my brain. But I waved it off as he sauntered away, swinging the pass with his pace.

After Niko was completely gone, I sighed, and clicked open my phone. I scanned all the crazy messages Camille sent me, asking if I threw up, or got a hard-on because of the way I ran away so fast.

I looked down at the messages that weren't pinned. An unknown number had texted me something.

And during those seconds of carelessness, I had completely forgot about the stalker, and the real possibility he could text me anywhere else other than Mi2.

UNKNOWN: You can't hide, Laura. I'll find you anywhere. It's hard to miss that beautiful face, after all. I fantasize thinking of you screaming my name. Not only from fear, or your sweet blood on my palms, but the pleasure all of this gives you.

And, pretty girl, I promise, I'll have your blood on my hands soon enough.

Just wait, Lore.

You're mine.

My phone clattered on the white tile floor.

CHAPTER FOUR

I paced in my room, the soles of my feet almost stripped red from the constant stomp on my carpeted floor.

I had accepted I had a stalker. I had accepted that that stalker has murderous intentions.

But I hadn't accepted the arrival of Ghostface.

The fear is blurring everything I think I know about my life and my town, and my heart is ripping into pieces, every time I remember the death in the town. Who knows what will come next? Who could die next?

And the worst realization of all is realizing that my stalker is most probably, definitely Ghostface. I can't ignore the fact he came to town at the same time the mysterious user begun messaging me. And speaking of that...

I grabbed a blanket, and pulled it over my thighs as I sat in my desk chair. School was drowning me in homework, but there was no way I could focus on biology or equations right now.

This was probably, most definitely a bad idea.

But taking the route of ignorance seemed worse in my book.

That egotistic part of me, unwilling to get help from anyone, unable to leave things as it is, forced me to open my laptop again in the dark of the October night.

Mi2 flickered bats over the screen. Black speeding things, toying with my cursor as I swiped the previous anonymous chat.

The "user373737373737". The only thing I think I could do, to establish some sort of barrier of the threat of the stalker, was by clicking the friend request on the screen.

I opened my textbook, scanning the math problems with a renounced lack of attention. In less than a minute of me flipping through the pages nervously, a message dinged on my screen.

ᕯ user373737373737 accepted your friend request!

I breathed deeply, preparing myself for the interaction. A strange sort of adrenaline was pumping in my stomach, and I reminded myself that this was a potential murderer on the other end of the computer. I dragged my hands up to the keyboard and began to type.

✸ angelaura999: |  why do you keep tormenting me?

I bit my lip, and deleted the message. If he gets a rise out of me, I'm sure this psycho would enjoy it even more. I guess attempting a more casual approach will be better on my end.

Because even though I know I should call the police, or tell somebody- something inside of me is forcing me to send these messages. And I hate myself for it.

✸ angelaura999: Ghostface.

His message almost came immediately, jolting a spike of fear in my gut.

✸ user373737373737: I suppose.

✸ angelaura999: you killed west.

✸ user373737373737: Maybe I did, maybe I didn't.

✸ angelaura999: you did. how could you be so sick?

✸ user373737373737: I'm perfectly healthy. what could you possibly mean?

✸ angelaura999: why do you keep reaching out to me? i already asked for you to leave me alone.

✸ user373737373737: Tell me, Laura. Why are you still answering? Why haven't you called the authorities yet?

I breathed in sharply, my heart hammering in my ribcage. I didn't know. Would the police even care? This is just an online interaction.

✸ user373737373737: Oh, you're smarter than this, Laura. I guess I have to answer the question myself, since you're too nervous to reply, right?

✸ user373737373737: you act like such a good girl. Really, very pathetic, my dove. Everything you do to maintain that pretty appearance. Fucking yourself over for grades? It's masochistic. I can't say I don't enjoy seeing you wet with fear, though. When you use that wide smile to sweet talk those touch deprived teachers. But in that sad, dark mind of yours, you like this.

✸ user373737373737: crave this.

✸ user373737373737: You like the fear.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control my rapid breathing.

✸ angelaura999: no.

✸ user373737373737: oh, yes, my dove. Don't lie to me.

✸ user373737373737: I turn you on.

I slammed the computer shut, failing to protect my fingers from the screen. The rims of my nails were red from the impact, and I cursed, holding my shaking hands.

This was too much. Why was I so stupid to contact a sociopath? All he wanted to do was scare me. And he succeeded.

I tore away from the desk, and gulped down the bubble of terror in my throat. My hand instinctively grabbed for my phone, and I dialed the police, something I should've done days before.

"The number you are calling is not available right now. Please check your internet connection and try again."

I gasped, evaluating the number I called again, but it was still 911. I hung up, and quickly tapped the three digits again.

"The number you are calling is not available right now. Please check your internet connection and try again."

"Please!" I whispered, sitting on my bed to stop the shaking of my thighs. I had internet connection; my Wi-Fi wasn't the problem.

Somehow, Ghostface hacked into my phone.

My mind frozen with terror, I hurled my phone onto my bed, and backed out of my room.

All I can do now is walk away, take a shower. Breathe in a way that calms me down instead of driving me insane. Wait for my parents to come home, and tell them what's going on. And hopefully, end Ghostface once and for all.

I made sure my doors were locked, and curtains closed. After securing my entire house, I locked the bathroom door, and turned on the shower.

My brain racked ideas of who Ghostface could be, or why they decided to prey on me. Everything he had said was blaring in the back of my mind- because it was true. As much as I hated to admit it, I was sick.

And so was he.

God, am I just like a serial killer?

The warm water soothed my skin, and I brushed cinnamon scented bubbles off my bare body with the shower head.

"I turn you on."

I could feel my body turning hot with the words repeating in my mind. Who was he?

My hand gravitated towards the inner of my thighs, the shower head burning pressure into my body. I dropped my hand over the shower tile, gripping the wall as I shifted the shower head. My eyes rolled back, and I rocked my hips on the water streaming on me.

My mind flashed with those words-

"I turn you on."

"I can't wait to taste your blood."

Somehow, that had me gripping the shower head harder, and pleasure began to ripple throughout my body.

Who could he be?

I drove the metal harder in the area between my legs, waves of hot euphoria rolling in my stomach. I moaned softly, clenching the soap-soaked walls in front of me. I bit my lip as I orgasmed, clutching the head with shaking fingers. My body was limp, weak even, and it dawned on me that I just masterbated to the thought of my stalker.

Okay. I definitely need therapy.

I stepped out of the shower, wiping my body and covering myself with plush black towels. After brushing my teeth, and feeling altogether fresh, I walked back to my room, soft slippers warming my feet.

On my bed, a strange lump laid on my blanket, unfamiliar to my eyes. I furrowed my brows, and tightened a robe over my body. As I got closer, the shape formed-

A bouquet.

A various arrangement of different flowers- small leaves, large petals, all colored in red, oranges, or brown hues.

It was beautiful.

Black and white paper surrounded the flowers, and inside of the wrapping, a small, delicately golden card said my name. I tentatively opened it, seeing red cursive handwriting bleeding over the fine paper.

𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑢𝑝 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦.

𝐷𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠?

𝐼 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑟𝑒𝑑.

𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝑆𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙.

𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛�� 𝑜𝑢𝑡, 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡?

𝐾𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒, 𝐿𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑎. 𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡.

~ 𝐺ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒

My eyes darted around the room. My window was closed, my room was locked...

I jerked open the closet door. Nothing.

Attempting to steady my breathing, I sat down near the flowers, and the paper rolled out of the bouquet. On the back, a small black engraved paragraph shone in the light of my room. I picked it up, examining the words.

𝙃𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙊𝙣𝙚:

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙚.

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

Try to find me, Laura.

I'm waiting.

[imaslutforwritingshit]

This man.

I AM FERAL FOR HIM 😭

[imaslutforwritingshit]

A Dangerous Wish

(A Miguel O’Hara x Fem (spider-girl) reader, short story. Part One)

SMUT, NSFW

WARNINGS- nsfw, slight sadism,rough sex, teasing, bondage (f and m receiving), bj, fingering, hair pulling, sub to dominant switch, submissive reader, handcuffs, wounds, minor gun play, thigh riding, ENEMIES TO LOVERS

Pro tip- slowed Weeknd songs work best with this smut story lol

Finally. He was finally mine.

On the dark, smooth floor, littered with scratches and streaks of blood, Miguel was on his knees.

I had just managed to chain him to the rectangular pole over his head. Strong, power-draining handcuffs wrapped around his thick wrists. We were in the basement of the Spider Society, the unauthorized area Miguel doesn’t let his team see. But I was here, even if the webs strapped to my hands were under shaking palms. I had finally won.

Two years of chasing the leader of the Spider Society, only our brief, unsuccessful fights being the interactions we had between each other. And for the entirety of those two years, the strong and dangerous man had been possessing my mind.

Now what? He’s all mine. I could kill him. Ruin him.

Or, maybe, I could do what I always wanted to. A deep desire my body craved when I was around Miguel O’Hara, no matter how much I hated it. I wanted those eyes on me. The red, powerful eyes now hidden under the swoops of his tussled and damp hair.

His head was dropped in defeat, the talons sticking from his fingers hanging in mid-air, and rips in his suit exposing his bronze skin under the low LED lights. I let my body fall into an intimidating walk, slinking my hips as I moved closer to him. His chest was rising and falling, the sharp, heavy pants of his breath created a strange sensation in my stomach.

Miguel’s eyes trailed over my figure as he looked up, the red of his pupils almost purple in the dark. I took of my gloves slowly, letting the moment drag in painful build up. Miguel’s eyes devoured the sight of my fingers, as if every piece of open skin was killing him. I dropped the gloves, one sliding down the plane of his thigh.

“What do you want?” Miguel’s voice was raw, broken and hoarse with anger. The lowness of his words caused a shiver up my spine, but I stiffened my body to hide it.

“Oh, O’Hara.” My words were thick with mockery, and I let my nail drag up his throat, tipping his chin up with my index finger. He grit his teeth, trying to move his head away, but the pain prevented him from completing the action. I dug my red nail under his jaw, and Miguel leaned his head back. My sly smile felt natural, though I was forcing my teeth to stop shivering from the adrenaline of catching my enemy.

“I think you already know what I want.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, and jerked the chains holding his arms up towards me. He inhaled breathlessly as I forced his body towards mine. “To destroy you.”

At those words, an unusual smirk played on Miguel’s lips. Lips so close to mine, I felt like I wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

“And how so, hermosa?” His eyes dropped to my body again, and I suddenly felt like the tightness of latex around my breasts was a bad choice. “You gonna kill me?”

I laughed at that, and dropped my hands from him. “Death would be a relief. I want to have my fun with you.”

Miguel let his head fall back lazily, and a slow grin spread on his lips. “Oh, but I really need relief right now, (y/n).”

The double meaning of his words made my face turn a hot shade of pink.

I shook my head, and stood up, making a small tsk sound with my tongue. As I paced around the room, Miguel slowly rose to his feet with pained grunts. But I’m surprised he could even stand up after the way I beat him up. I suppose the super strength Miguel had also included super-healing capabilities.

Miguel was easily one or more feet over me. He towered over my body so heavily, I felt dumb for even existing around him, even if he’s the one under my control now. God, I’ve dreamt of this day for ages- but now I have no idea what to do.

“You gonna take these cuffs off my hands, (y/n)? Or am I gonna have to ask nicely?” Miguel’s voice was too confident, too sarcastic for my satisfaction. I had captured him, not the other way around.

I whipped around, aiming for his mouth, and shot a jumble of webs from my shooters. His lips were covered in threads of silk, bonded strong enough to shut his ass up.

Miguel growled, his mouth bounded by the white web, jerking his body roughly, as if that would help the situation. With the rage fogging over his bright eyes, the rips showing his sweaty, sleek abdomen, the veins on his hands lit like fire under the light-

Fuck. He looked really, really hot.

I ignored my thoughts and stomped to him, practically cowering under his large frame.

“Let me talk for once. I want to say a million things to you, but I can’t. Because I can’t waste my time on you anymore.” I paused, then averted my eyes to his, watching the anger dissipate from his irises.

“You ruined my life. You took everything from me,” I curled my fists. “You took everything from me for some fucking mission, some personal problem. So fuck you.”

The last sentence was rough, the words hardly leaving my mouth. Miguel’s eyes dropped, staring at my blood on my floor. As if he felt anything for me.

I should probably stitch the wound. Miguel had scraped my body all over my arms and legs in a cat fight. We were both physically weary from the fight, but yearning for the sweet revenge of true dominance.

We were still hungry for more.

I turned around swiftly, walking to the small station on the other side of the room. It had everything I needed- a first aid kit, radio, a gun.

I didn’t want to do what I had to do next. Kill Miguel.

But what other choice did I have?

I suddenly heard a footstep, too close to me, too heavy to belong to anyone else except the one person I hated the most.

“Fuck you? That’s a bold statement. I didn’t know you wanted me like that, cariño.” Míguela deep chuckle caused my heart to sink to my stomach. Because there’s only one way he could talk- if he took the webs off his mouth.

And the only way he could’ve done that, was by escaping.

I swung my body instantaneously on the ceiling before Miguel lunged at me, claws skimming the thin fabric of my stomach.

I dropped down, rolling into a fighting stance. How the hell did he escape? The chains that once held Miguel down were snapped, the shiny metal dropped into little rings on the ground. Even the handcuffs were snapped into multiple pieces. I whirled my head to the gun- now is my only chance.

But though I ran to the table again, frantically sweeping my hands on the wood, the gun had disappeared.

A small click sounded from the corner of the basement, so close to me that I flinched.

“Looking for this, pretty girl?”

And ever so carefully, I turned to see Miguel’s muscular forearm pointed at my chest.

The gun in his fist.

I backed away, my feet tripping on the legs of the table. Miguel’s face was dark, relishing in my fear. He cornered me, eventually letting his thigh uncomfortably press my legs away from each other.

“Pu-put it down.” The stammer in my voice was embarrassing, but I can’t imagine Miguel with more power than he already had. He could kill me right now.

Miguel made a small humming sound, and tapped the gun on my beating heart. “Say please.”

My dignity had escaped my body within the seconds. My teeth were grinding together, as I mumbled, “Please.”

Miguel clicked his tongue, and slid the gun to my collarbone, letting the muzzle of the weapon form small circles on my skin. I shivered, dropping my head back from fear, and something else I couldn’t name. “Oh, (y/n). That’s not enough for me, baby. Louder.”

I sucked in a breath, my focus heightened on the metal, cold and powerful over my skin. “Please.” My voice was louder, but that didn’t stop the shake in my pitch.

He nodded with satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes growing. He pressed the gun in the crook of my neck, letting it trail over my throat. “Good. Keep being good for me, cariño. Because chaining me up,” he paused, shaking his head. “That disappointed me.” He softened his voice, the low taunts dragging out of his fanged mouth. “You love acting out, don’t you?” His eyes dropped to the metal pressing into my throat. “I might just have to punish you for that.”

I shook my head frantically, clenching my fists. How could he be so strong? Escape me so fast?

Miguel raised his eyebrow, stepping closer. His leg was now pressed completely against me, filling the area between my thighs. I wasn’t during if he noticed, but the pressure caused a wave of butterflies to cluster in my stomach. “No? You don’t want that?”

I nodded again, wishing for any relief away from the gun on my body. “No.”

Miguel grinned devilishly, and pressed the gun to the side of my throat with renounced force. “Then prove it to me.”

“What?” My voice was breathless, and I shifted on his leg.

Miguel’s eyes dropped to the low of my suit, where my hips were rolled against his muscular thigh. He clenched his jaw, and looked up at me again, strands of his hair falling in his eyes.

And those eyes had an unfamiliar blaze to them-

Desire.

“I want you to beg me to stop. I don’t think you understand how much I enjoy this.” He let his tongue slide over his teeth, and then tilted his head with dark curiosity. “Beg for your life.”

Miguel stepped all the way over my body, slamming one hand on the table near my own. I could feel his rapid breath on my jawline, the potent smell of spiced cologne on his body meeting my nostrils. “I want you to understand just how much power I have over you.”

The words hit me like a wave, throwing me over. My eyes widened, and I stared, blinking at his prideful expression. I couldn’t let my sexual ideas get in the way of this. Miguel is a dangerous man, a weapon in hand.

“Fuck no,” I sputtered out. “Just kill me. I-I would rather die.” I tilted my head up, and closed my eyes, awaiting the sound of the trigger firing.

But it never came. I tentatively opened my eyes to see Miguel’s mouth slightly open, corners of his lips twitching to a smile. His fangs seemed to shine purely from my fear. He dropped the gun on the floor, and I flinched. Miguel’s hands pressed to mine before I could attack him, his warm skin and talons awakening a buzz in my core.

Electricity was flowing through the air between us, thick and heavy and dense. I couldn’t think anymore- he was a distraction, a deadly infection over my senses.

Because I wanted more.

Without thinking, I let my body act on the pure instincts I’ve been fighting. My hips ground on Miguel’s muscles, and I clenched my knuckles under his palm.

The act of my body shaking on his made him dig his talons into the wood of the desk. He looked at me with shock, only for a second. And I drowsily stared into his eyes until that shock became lust again. He tensed his biceps, and smirked so confidently it drove me insane.

“Look at you. Having…“fun,” huh?” Miguel watched my hips again, an unnatural spike in his breathing. I couldn’t help my body as I rolled my groin on his hard body again, whimpering from the impact. I could feel the swirl in my gut from him, making the area between my thighs warm. I could feel how wet he was making me.

I think he could, too.

Miguel groaned softly, and the vibrations of his vocal chords sparked a fire inside of me. I began my to harden the pressure of my body on his, and Miguel staggered, letting his head drop near my neck.

“You gonna keep doing that to my thigh, (y/n)? I think you should aim a little higher.” He shifted his body, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. I stifled my gasp. This wasn’t the plan- I shouldn’t be doing this with him.

But it was like I couldn’t control myself anymore. I let soft moans escape my mouth as I began moving my hips over his own.

And an unfamiliar lump under the fabric of his suit met my spread legs. Miguel groaned, and arched his head back, poking the soft skin of my ass.

He was hard.

I had never considered that Miguel would also have the same feelings for me. He let his hard palm slide up the small of my back, and I shivered, clutching his hand. When Miguel’s fingers hooked to the zipper near the neck of my neck, he bit his lip, his dark eyes traveling over the movement of my body. “I never knew you were such a slut, (y/n).”

At that, I dropped my head on his shoulders, rasping for breath. My desire was painful. I needed release from this feeling, and he was the only one who could grant it.

Miguel chuckled, sliding the zipper down slowly, and the cold air of the basement meeting my skin formed goosebumps on my shoulders. The suit fell of my chest, exposing my breasts and stomach. Miguel took a long breath, and snaked his thick hands on my bare waist.

I clenched my teeth together, blinded from the flame of his touch. His fingers met the low of my breast, and I threw my head back, grabbing the muscles of his back. I knew he was playing with me- letting his desire for my pain and pleasure mix into a horrible game.

And a strange part of me loved it.

Miguel bared his fangs, a low growl drawling from his lips. His fingers skimmed the sensitive buds of my nipples, and he let his sharp claws swirl over the area. My thighs clenched at that, pressing my hips over his hardened dick. “Please.”

Miguel jerked my body to his, arching my back with his hand on my spine. His eyes were intense, drowning my body with tingles in each place he let his gaze fall over. “Please, what? Be specific, cariño.”

I heaved a breath. “Touch me.”

Miguel stared up at me, electricity intensifying between us. He slid his hands to my hips, rolling the fabric down my thighs. I rocked my ass up, letting him completely undress me. As I kicked the latex off my body, Miguel quickly pulled my body forward, and I yelped, now completely on my back.

With white knuckles, I reached for the sides of the desk, but Miguel grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head. I squirmed, feeling the liquids of my pussy spilling on the hard wood under me. I was so desperate, and he was toying with me. Teasing me.

“No. I’m not letting you enjoy this yet.” Miguel’s voice was gruff, almost unrecognizable as he yanked my body, an invisible warning. Miguel walked away, quickly coming back. I didn’t know what he brought, until Miguel shoved a ball of fabric in my mouth.

He fucking gagged me with my own glove.

Before I could pull the fabric out of my mouth, Miguel grabbed another article of clothing from the floor- my suit. I furrowed my eyebrows, pleading him to stop- but Miguel clenched his jaw harder, and brought my wrists up. In a couple swift movements, he tied my hands together with my suit, so hard that I could feel the throb of my heartbeat in my wrists. He dropped my limp hands, and grabbed my upper thigh. Miguel, eyes fixated on my crotch, slowly spread my lips. When he saw my wet body, Miguel growled again, biting his lip so hard I was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood.

“Qué zorra tan hermosa.” Miguel let his lip slowly drag from his teeth, and watched my shivering body was a terrifying predatory stare. When he slid two fingers over my clit, spreading my pussy, my eyes widened embarrassingly, and his teasing caused a renounced ache in my stomach. Miguel rubbed his fingers over the base of my cunt, and I arched my back, a silent beg for more. I needed more. Miguel let a finger play with the wet opening of my body, each of his breaths getting harder. I bucked my hips, and Miguel attempted to stifle a groan.

The dark of Miguel’s red irises were blending with the basement dimness. I watched his eyes flicker over my body, and slow penetration of a finger inside of me began to make its way between the folds of my body.

I gasped, choking on the fabric of my glove, and flayed hopelessly on the table. I had no idea how it came to this, why it came to this. But I craved more- I needed him, even if I hated him.

Miguel slid his finger so far it hurt, his retracted nails hitting the delicate sponge of my inner walls. I bucked my hips again, and with that movement, Miguel slid another finger in. I could feel my body clenching on his thick digits, and I curled my toes in anticipation. Miguel groaned at the sight, curling his fingers inside of me.

Each movement was driving me insane. He curled his fingers, slowly progressing to a euphoric pace. Desire was forming in my gut, the string of nerves coming undone with each pattern of his strokes.

I moaned under the fabric in my mouth, and Miguel stabbed his fingers farther inside of me- like my sound deserved punishment.

“Behave, (y/n). You don’t want me to hurt you again, do you?” He let one finger slide on the open wound above my rib cage, and I jerked my body from the white pain. Miguel smiled in a conceited way, and continued the rapid movements of his fingers. I twitched over his hand, feeling the hot rise of pleasure reach my skull. He breathed from his mouth, infatuated with my quivering body. The sight alone made my eyes roll, shivers controlling my body like tides.

“Enjoying yourself?” He laughed, but it was dry if humor. Miguel was turned on by the fact I was in pain. A pain derived of the irresistible desire he caused in me. Miguel pulled his slick fingers from my pussy, and I bit down on my glove from the release of pressure. My jaw ached from the mouthful of cotton, and my arms were sore from the position he put me in. Miguel dropped his eyes to my hips, and grabbed a fist of my hair and turned my body so I laid on my stomach. He massaged my ass greedily, and planted a sharp slap on the fat of my upper cheek. I jerked my head back from the pain, and Miguel laughed, as if this gave him energy. Vitality.

He grabbed the glove in my mouth, shaking it in my gums. “You want me to take this out? Huh?”

I nodded quickly. God, I was almost his toy at this point. Why was I doing everything he said?

Why did I like it?

Miguel chuckled again, and pulled the glove from my mouth. I salivated in my dry mouth, breathing heavily.

Miguel rubbed my chin, and held it up to his eyes. He was stripping from his suit. And making me watch.

My face flushed, even if he had already seen my exposed body- he was forcing me to watch him undress.

Miguel let the silky fabric slide drop from his frame, catching at his hips. His muscular chest rose and fell, the defined abs on his stomach sharpening from the breath. Everything he was doing was turning me on even more, and I hated myself for it.

“I’m gonna fill those pretty lips,” he muttered, so smoothly it made my mouth water for the taste of something I’ve never known. He pushed the fabric all the way down, kicking it off his ankles in a swift movement. My eyes caught his cock, and I exhaled with admiration.

He was erect, veins springing from his thick bronze shaft. The tip of his dick was moist, perfect and way too close to my mouth for me to do anything but try not to whimper. Miguel tilted his head casually, grinding his hips forward on my face. His dick slid against my soft cheek, and I scrunched my brows from the sensation.

I sealed my lips shut. Having him finger me was different- it was an act of pleasure for my benefit. But sucking his dick? It was a silent confirmation that he had complete control.

Miguel began sliding his dick over my cheek repeatedly, letting his head fall forward in concentration. I watched as his lower hips clenched with each movement, the veins meeting light again and again, mesmerizing me with the beauty of his body.

“Open.” Miguel’s voice was rawer than before, husky with the pleasure of my body meeting his edged dick.

I shook my head, biting my cracked lip down. I don’t know if I would even have free will after my mouth met his cock.

Miguel grabbed my scalp, and pulled my hair up, forcing my head all the way back. “Am I gonna have to make you?”

“I-“ My voice was hardly a whisper.

Miguel sprung his talons from his fingers, letting his index finger trail the part of my lips. He dug his finger in the slit of my teeth, and I released the tension of holding myself back. I opened my mouth, feeling the warm, rough skin of his finger pads.

Miguel didn’t hold back the low groan of his finger meeting my wet mouth. Knowing that I made him feel that way- it made me crazy. I rolled my tongue over his finger, like some dog obeying orders. It was like in this moment he was all I knew, all I remembered. Miguel grabbed his cock, letting the tip slide over my lips. And closing my eyes, I opened my mouth all the way, sliding his dick in my mouth, until the tip hit the hard gums of my inner mouth.

Fuck. I’m probably gonna regret this.

That’s it! Part two will be posted per request :)