téar

Choso was an international rising star. Going from being a good national player with potential, to dominating all of his opponents on the field and successfully achieving every score he aimed for, many wanted to know what changed in his training regime to improve his performance so drastically.

Each time, Choso didn't know what to say because frankly, who would believe the truth? That simply, fucking his girlfriend before each game, when her twat swallowed his dick whole and his jersey was riding high on her thighs with each rough thrust, was the new change? Just the crudeness of the statement itself would be career suicide. Not to mention, that Choso was a private man. Any crudeness he wanted to speak, he would only speak to you, and any details about your magical pussy and why it made him win, he'd keep to himself. Definitely, he would not have other players lining up to taste you, just so they could try improve their luck for winning too.

It was a good-luck ritual reserved only for him, and you would be fucked only by him, and the only jersey number you would ever need to wear, was also going to be just his. Because only he could work you until your legs shook too much to even stand up, and only Choso had the privilege to hold up against the lockers like a ragdoll, his size overwhelming yours, as he fucked into you raw.

You recall when you first woke up in this 'fictional' world. It was so surreal. It was difficult to fathom that you had been reincarnated into a movie you had watched - you only ever read about this type of things happening in webnovels and comics.

You had woken up with the worst hangover headache ever and lights had flashed behind your eyelids. It has been almost impossible to open your eyes because you felt like you had just died a horrible and painful death and then somehow came back to life. After some groans and cursing your past self for drinking so recklessly, you managed to open your eyes. And when you had, the vast and abrupt change in your environment had you thinking you were still passed out drunk. Instead of waking up in your usual home, you woke up in a dingy little studio apartment with white walls. It was furnished with the basic necessities but you were unfamiliar with all of it. The most bizarre was that when you looked down to your hands, you weren't a three dimensional being anymore. You looked animated.

Like any normal person in your circumstances, it took you a while to accept your reality. With a few hyperventilating moments, panic episodes, and pinching yourself until your skin welted in an attempt to "snap back to reality", there was one thing that made you get over yourself and accept the new world you were in: existence of Spiderman. And not just any Spiderman, but Miguel O'Hara. The very fictional character you would drool over when watching his edits.

You realised that you had been given an unique gift by the universe: you had the chance to be and do what many fans would kill for; you had the chance to woo Miguel and be with him. With that in mind, it didn't take you long to find your new purpose in your new world - that is, you were going to be a petty criminal to get his attention.

And that's how your 'villain era' started. You would remove the 'caution wet floor' signs from public spaces with massive crowds so it would result in many people slipping and falling. Other examples of your petty crime included: putting up 'not working' signs on lifts that were perfectly fine, signing up the government bodies and figures to receive spam emails, cut holes in unused grocery bags so that they were unusable, or order massive amount of donuts for the local police stations that they were then required to pay for. Well, the last one was just doing it for them in advance. The bottom line was that you were making many inconveniences for the public and this promoted the need for Spiderman.

Miguel was really ticked off that he was stuck into dealing with such a childish and wannabe villain. Another inconvenience was the last thing he needed. What really made him angrier was that  you were only meant to be nuisance who should be caught quickly. But that wasn't the case. Regardless of the childish villain you came across as, you had skills. You were awfully adept at escaping him and made terrible jokes and innuendoes while doing so.

Like currently, just as he was about to grab you, you jumped away and had the audacity to giggle. He yelled out in frustration and hit the wall beside him.

"You know its really attractive when you groan and grunt like that. Do you that a lot in bed too?" You asked shamelessly, while twirling a lock of your hair cheekily.

And there it was: the start of the innuendoes, your cheekiness, and your frustrating flirting.

"And its really attractive when you shut up. Why can't you be like normal villains and do an evil monologue instead of spouting the shit that comes out of your mouth?" Miguel retorted, as he once again jumped towards you, but you skillfully maneuvered away from him with somersaults.

"Come on Miguel, I know that you're fond our banter. It must get pretty tiring to keep track of the multiverse by yourself and always do complicated stuff. So, surely mundane superhero against me must be something to look forward to? I know you love me." You teased, winking at him. You were ready to dodge him again, but Miguel never came after you. Instead, the amount of information in your words caused him to freeze. It wasn't the fact that you knew about the multiverse and what he did that made him freeze; it was the fact that you knew his real name.

The silence was loud and was starting to shift. When he turned towards you ever so slowly, was when you had realised that you fucked up.

"What did you call me?" He asked so softly, that you barely heard him.

You smiled nervously. "Uh, I said, um, what's up doc?"

Slowly, he took a step closer to you.

"No, you called me Miguel. You know who I am."  He stated in a low voice, and then, took another step towards you, and then, another. With every step he moved closer towards you, you took a hesitant step back. Your fingers trembled in fear, and you continued moving back until your back hit the wall. And Miguel was right in front of you. He had you cornered into the wall - his body pressing against yours. There was no physical space left, as he pushed his much heavier weight against you to keep you trapped. Then, with his giant frame, he was towering over you; he leaned closer until his masked face was only a few inches away from your own masked face.

The current position would have you swaying in awe, had it not been for the fact that you had a very sudden realisation you had royally fucked up by disclosing what you knew. And although this was a fictional world when you had watched the movie, it was now your reality. So, as he was digging into the concrete wall beside your head with his sharp claws as a warning were real.  If he chooses to attack you right then and there, you were going to die - again.

"I-I was just kidding and blurted out whatever. It's not my fault that-"

"Shut up. You're not going to speak until spoken to. Understand?" He hissed. You knew that he was solemn and edgy. But his current downright rudeness hurt. Finally fathoming that it was best to not to provoke him in this moment, you nodded meekly in response.

"Good girl. Now, you're going tell me, how do you know my name?" He asked in the softest whisper, and he leaned closer to your face; you could see the vivid details of his mask, he was so close. The fear from his threats and the uncomfortable forced proximity that you could not move an inch in, caused your breath to hitch.

You shook your head. "I can't tell you."

This time, Miguel's mask unveiled his face automatically. His typical swept back hair was disheveled and parts of it fell over his face. Nonetheless, he wore a sneer, and his eyes were glaring daggers at you. It was hot, and you wished this current reimagine of him-pinning-down Miles scene had been in better circumstances, rather than the present one where he looked like he was mere seconds away from killing you.

Miguel leaned until he was right beside your ear. His warm breath fanned your ear as he spoke. "You seem to know a lot about me. So you should know what I'm capable off. I'm going to ask you one last time: how do you know my name?" He hissed, and bared his fangs at you, before softly nipping it at the shell as a warning. You yelped, and your body instinctively tried to move away from him. But since your bodies were already pressing against one another, you ended up just grinding against him.  

Nonetheless, after giving you a generous few seconds to consider, Miguel had enough.

"I warned you." He growled, and then, he ripped your mask off your face. You yelped as the mask was harshly removed from you, and you hair fell messily. You blinked a few times, and your eyes drifted until you met Miguel's.

You didn't know what kind of reaction you were expecting from Miguel. But it wasn't the one you got. Very tenderly, Miguel cupped your face. "[Name]? You're alive?"

Your eyes widened. And now, it was your turn to ask the same question. "How do you know who I am?"

"How- What do you mean how do I know who you are?! We were married, you were my wife! Well, you were until... It doesn't matter. I saw you die with my own eyes, but... You've been alive this entire time?! Is this some type of sick joke?!" He snapped.

You were bombarded with way too much information all at once. And before you could get a chance to speak your truth, Miguel continued his rambling.

"You, you didn't even contact me! We have a child together, does that mean nothing to you?! Do I mean nothing to you?! I know, I know that you weren't happy because I was too much, but I was only doing what I needed to do to keep you safe! I was trying to be better! You know I was trying but you never even gave me a chance! You just left me!" He babbled hysterically; in between his rambles, he didn't take a moment to breath, or give you a moment to speak. He simply digressed in his own ranting and the more he spiraled, the more his breath started to pick up. Being familiar with your own experiences of  hyperventilation, you knew that he was on the verge of a panic episode. So, in an attempt to comfort him, you wrapped your arms around him, and gently rubbed his back.

"You need to breath Miguel," you whispered. Your words seem to have an instant affect on him because he began to inhale and exhale deeply. Then, once he was calmer, he returned your embrace, and buried his head in your neck.

"Why did you leave me [Name]? Why couldn't you have just given me another chance?" He murmured defeatedly, and tightened his hold on you. You were still trying to process what had happened, so didn't know what to say. You weren't the [Name] that he was talking about. Yes you shared the same names, eerily similar personal details, and this 'body' of hers that you had reincarnated into, looked just like your own, but second dimensional. So she was likely another version of you, but you were not her. You never had kids, or allegedly ran away from a marriage. Sure, you had died though, but you were different from her. So, you decided to be honest.

"Um, I'm not who you think I am. I never been married or have kids.... I guess speaking in your terms, I'm her from another dimension?" You explained.

Miguel's grip tightened on you. "I have access to many dimensions and in only a very few she knows a version of me, much less lives if she does. But you, you seem to know me, the current me. You knew I was Spiderman and that I monitor the multiverse... Only one of me does that. There's no way you would know that unless you were my person. Stop lying to me." He seethed, and once again, was glaring at you.

"I-I'm not lying, I promise! You're [Name] is dead. I just happen to be from a world where all of this, you, the multiverse was nothing except a fictional story and that's how I know! Otherwise, what would I get out of pretending that I don't remember any of what you've said when we have so much history? I wouldn't do that on purpose." You tried to rationalise calmly.

He released his grip on Taehyung, and let him fall carelessly, and mindlessly on the floor. Since Jungkook had been somewhat strangling during his headlock, as Taehyung’s body hit the floor harshly, he gasped in pain, and trying to breathe in as much oxygen as he could.

Jungkook ran towards [Name], and threw himself on top of her. As the weight of his body collided on hers, [Name] fell back harshly on the floor, and her head hit harshly, which made it throb painfully. She screamed loudly when Jungkook pinned her hands at the side of her head. He put his entire weight on her, and positioned himself on top her in a way that rendered her from moving. Heavy tears flowed down [Name]’s cheeks, and she viciously shook her head.

“Jungkook please, don’t do this—“

“It can’t be! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSE TO BE PREGNANT! YOU CAN’T HAVE A BABY! THIS WAS NOT HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE! It was supposed to be ME! ONLY ME! I SHOULD BE THE ONLY ONE YOU CARE ABOUT, LOVE, AND DO EVERYTHING FOR! YOU AREN’T MEANT TO BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE! You’re— You’re only supposed to love me and not abandon me for someone else!” Jungkook cried hysterically, and the loudness of his voice, and the underlying promises of danger, caused [Name] to whimper and shut her eyes tightly.

“I… I won’t let this be the end. Not again. I don’t want to start over again. I’ll just, I’ll just—“ Jungkook stammered, and then, as if he just had an epiphany, his eyes widened impossibly wide. He licked his lips once, before speaking again, and this time, for the worst.

“I-I know. I’ll just get rid off this baby for everyone’s sake. You aren’t fat yet, and— and the baby probably isn't even grown yet. It’ll be easy. Haha, yeah it’ll be super easy. Just one hit will do,” Jungkook murmured to himself. However, [Name] heard him loud and clear, and this caused her eyes to snap open. She observed Jungkook from beneath him: his wide and large eyes that were filled with petrifying insanity, and his disheveled hair that overcasted his eyes, providing a dark shadow over his face that further highlighted his disoriented persona.  Then, with one of his shaky hands, he took out a knife from the back of his pocket, and shifted his grip on [Name] so that he pinned both of her wrists above her head with his other hand.  When Jungkook’s big knife entered her line of sight, [Name]’s bottom lip quivered once more, and she shook her head.

“No please, Jungkook, please, don’t do this. Please don’t this, don’t hurt me like this. I’ll, I’ll do anything that you want. I’ll even get rid off this baby if you get me the right medication but please, not like this— not like this, please. Please don’t stab me, I haven’t done anything. Please, I’m begging you, Jungkook, don’t do this to me,” [Name] cried, and tried to get out of his grip. However, her efforts remained fruitless.  

Jungkook gave her a stretched ear-to-ear forced smile.

“I’m sorry [Name], but I have to do this right here and right now. This needs to be done, for our future’s sake,” He said, and he raised the knife up high in the air.

As Jungkook had become preoccupied with [Name], he had completely forgotten about Taehyung, who he had left on the ground. Slowly, and surely, as Jungkook was having his mini-break down, Taehyung stood up from the ground. Taehyung was heaving, and he was pissed. He wanted to scream, charge at Jungkook, and beat him up until his bones would break, and his blood soaked his knuckles. However, he held himself back and kept himself under control. This was their only chance, and Taehyung NEEDED to make this count.

As quietly as he could, Taehyung leaned down, and grabbed the empty standing toilet paper roll holder that was beside the toilet, and raised it above him. Then, he slowly walked towards Jungkook. As he did so, his own heart beat loudly in his ears, and he hoped that Jungkook would not be able to hear it and be too focused on [Name].