ur worst nightmare

wc :: 1.3k

cw :: mutual masturbation, phone sex, name calling, no use of y/n, afab!reader

a/n :: stretching my fingers, first smut in like a year or so? so im trying to get back into the groove. plz plz lmk what u think also might be ooc i need to get into writing character voices im sorry plz forgive me

“God, you’re such a fucking tease you know that?” Satoru gritted out, hand squeezing his throbbing erection, other hand gripping his phone to his ear like a lifeline. “I’m over here working for you, and you send me this shit? I’m jerking off to that picture in the bathroom, and it’s all your fault.” His voice makes it out to be as if he’s seething, but you know all too well how much he is enjoying this ‘little break’. 

“Aww, Toru… You say that, like it’s not making me wet to think about right now.” Your voice is barely above a murmur, high and needy. A strangled groan comes from the other end of your phone, which is on speaker and laying on the side of your head on the pillow. Your hand is pressing into your hot, indigent bundle of nerves, over your panties.

“Fuuuckk baby, need that filthy fuckin’ mouth on me so fuckin’ bad.” He’d been palming himself through his pants immediately after opening your text at his desk and looking at your photos. Your body, still wet and glistening from the bath. the amber light from the lamp ricocheting off your delicate curves, accentuating all your gorgeous features. Light bouncing off you just enough for him to make out your gorgeous pussy lips that he totally didn’t stare at for an insane amount of time.

 He’s fully taken himself out of his pants now, pulling his underwear down enough to let his long, angry, and achingly hard cock spring free. “You’re gonna pay for this when I get home, you know that, right?”

“Maybe that’s why I sent them in the first place…” Satoru could hear the rustling of fabric as you wiggled your panties down your hips and legs, flinging them off somewhere in the room with a flick of your foot. As soon as the cold air hits the damp heat of your pussy, your fingers are drawing light circles around your clit. Every so often you would dip down and collect some of your wetness to slick yourself up. “You know how much I miss you when you're gone Toru…”

A breathy laugh floats from the speakers, along with ragged breaths and a lewd slick sound of him spitting into his hand. “Can’t even bare a few fucking hours without me princess?” He wraps his hand around his shaft, and pumps a few times to lubricate himself with his spit.

His eyelids flutter closed at the friction and all he can do is imagine it’s your wet hand. Your pretty nails gleaming with spit and pre, as you pump your fist up and down his long shaft; thumb circling and pressing into his sensitive tip every so often.

“You better be fucking that pretty pussy with your fingers princess. I can hear you panting like a needy little whore.” A high sob presses against your throat at his words, but you suppress it to a mere whimper.

Your fingers trail down from your clit and you let your middle finger sink into your entrance, groaning shakily as you pump it in and out a few times, then allow your ring finger to sink in as well. “Toorruuuuu..” 

God that breathy whine of his name had his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, the sweat on his scalp and forehead making his blindfold stick to his face, and his white hair to fall out of place. He was pretty much thrusting into his hand at this point; his free hand still fiercely gripping his phone, pressing it to his ear to listen to your high whines, and discordant breaths.

“Princess– ngh! You’re fucking killing me here. You have no idea how… shit baby– how hard it is, not having you in my hands right now?” Satoru’s voice is strained and shaky. “Need your perfect mouth on me. Hah… Hand’s never been good enough since you, baby.”

That confession makes your pussy clench, your thighs twitching and threatening to close around your wrist. Your clit is pulsing with the lack of attention you’re giving it, so you finally drag the other hand that’s been gripping the sheets and start circling your clit. Your spine arches as you jolt at the friction against the touch starved bud. Frustration is starting to lick at your brain as your forearm burns, trying desperately to curl your fingers in the way Satoru does every time.

“Toruuu, can’t ah! Can’t reach! Need your fingers!” Your voice is high in your throat, your head turning towards your phone on the pillow as you squirm in desperation; your brain is too foggy with pleasure and frustration to care if you’re too loud in the microphone.

Satoru’s abs clench, a pang getting sent straight through his gut. He almost knocks his head back. “Oh I know baby. Fingers aren’t long enough, huh? Don’t know where to touch, or just can't quite get there, right princess?” He coos, as his hand keeps pumping him even faster. 

He’s incredibly lucky this place has single person bathrooms. As much as that fantasy thrills him, he’s worked up enough as is. He’s biting into his lip so hard he thinks he might be bleeding, so he can keep the noise down as much as possible. 

Satoru feels the breath get punched out of his lungs when your head swings the opposite direction of your phone, allowing the microphone to catch the slick wet squelches coming from your pussy. You’re furiously pumping your fingers in and out of yourself, curling them every time they’re as deep as they can go. Your middle and finger grind out maddening circles and figure eights around your clit. You can feel the slick wetness dripping down the backs of your thighs, as they tremble and quake with the restraint to keep them open rapidly waning.

“M’ gettin’ close… Can’t Toru– ah! Mhh..” Your voice is back in the microphone, ringing loud in his ear as his moans. He can feel his balls clench and twitch, his cock pulsing. 

“Gettin’ there sweetheart. Can you fuckin– can you hold out just a little longer?” You’re mindlessly nodding in reply, barely registering that he can’t see you before letting out a breathy “uh-huh” in agreement. 

Your arms are burning with the strain and effort they’re exerting, and your legs are twitching, but your fingers pressing hard circles into your twitching clit slow ever so slightly to draw yourself out as long as you can.

If Satoru’s shuddering, ragged breaths, and whimpers tell you anything, it’s that you won't have to hold out for much longer. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck baby- close..” His hips twitch and his rhythm as he shamelessly fucks into his hand breaks apart. Your cunt flutters a few times before white hot pleasure bursts behind your eyelids; blinding you as you’re pulled taught and snap like a rubberband. Your broken moan and chanting of his name as you cum on your fingers, clear liquid gushing out against your hands and onto your sheets, is what finally sends him careening off the edge.

Your name is the only thing on his lips when his balls draw tight and his weeping cock shudders, thick, long, white ropes of cum shooting out of him; some landing on the floor, some landing on the front of his coat. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth hanging open with his head tipped back; phone threatening to fall from his slackened hand.

When he finally snaps back into reality after a few moments of blissed out silence, aside from the whimpering pants echoing around the bathroom from his phone, and his own shaky deep breaths, he looks down at the mess in front of him. His lips form into a small scowl.

“You’re in so much fucking trouble when I get home.” You hear him growl into the microphone before the beeping of a disconnected call. All you can do is roll onto your side, whining, and shudder in anticipation; while you still clench your hands between your thighs.

to be “cringe” is to be free

when you both got home neither of you were aware how exhausted your work banquet made each other. the minute you guys were through the threshold of your front door, every single fiber in yourselves let go. releasing the ache, the innate feeling of “holy shit i need to get out of these clothes”.

your work does an annual banquet, one that you have attended every year since you started working there. now that you had clark as your plus one you thought maybe you would have more fun. you cringed that day thinking about how up until now you always spent the banquet floating between the buffet and the bar. however turns out you had spent the entire night having to tolerate the other women around you slipping on their drool when they saw your boyfriend. you knew this would happen, clark is seriously hot in a way he has no idea about. but you did not expect to be basically yanking woman off your boyfriend every ten seconds as they begged to dance with him.

you made a straight shot towards your bedroom, clark following close on your heels; already working at the tie knotted around his neck. clark was worried you were upset about his response to these women, trying to apologize for just being him but you stopped him every time. you know it wasn’t his fault, and he was doing a perfectly fine job politely turning them all down; but you were livid at your coworkers. so you tried your best to keep your bad mood pointed away from clark.

you both had already slipped your shoes off at the door immediately lightening your mood now that it didn’t feel like you were walking on needles. as you made your way to the full length mirror you reached around you attempting to unzip the back of your dress. a firm but gentle hand engulfed yours, stopping you midway.

“here, let me help you get changed.” clark’s voice was warm and velvety as he lead your hand back down to your side. his other hand grabbed the zipper and slid it down effortlessly in one smooth motion. the cool air of your apartment hits your back and your dress pools at your ankles. clark’s hands move effortlessly as they find the waistband of your pantyhose, tugging them down your legs with mechanical efficiency. he taps your left ankle twice, silently asking you to lift you foot so he can lip that leg all the way out; then repeating it for the right ankle.

he rises from his position staring as you stand before him and a bra and panties, taking you in as if you were a renaissance painting. every mark or blemish just a stroke of the brush, placing oils purposefully to make up a whole masterpiece. theres something charged settling into the air around you both, neon shining across your bodies from the metropolis skyline outside your windows.

clark was the first to move, padding and standing behind you. his fingers moved up so he could undo the clasp of your bra. it didn’t even take a second for him to unclasp it, letting it hang so he could move to grab the strap at your shoulders and push them down your arms. as he moved he pressed kisses onto you skin where his fingers ghosted. you aided the final bit, pulling your hands towards your body; clark tossing the article somewhere into the darkness.

he circled around to face your front and placed his hands on either of your shoulders, carefully guiding you to the edge of your bed; eyes never breaking contact. when you were finally positioned where he wanted you to be, he grabbed to waistband of your panties and guided them down your thighs. a huff of air left you as you looked away flustered with how he was staring at you.

“what’s the matter pretty?” your face felt hot as he spoke to you. you mumbled something while you looked out through the window out onto the city. “can’t hear you gorgeous, please tell me.”

“you are still fully clothed. this doesn’t seem fair.” letting out another puff you crossed your arms over you chest.

“i said i was gonna help you change baby, we will get to me in a second.” when his sentenced finished your panties were at your ankles, and clark repeated the same motions he did when taking your pantyhose off. after once again throwing the piece of fabric somewhere, he stood up and as gently as possible pushed you back into the bed. your body fell and your back hit the plush bed with a soft ‘ouf’.

he untucked and unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor before getting on his knees in front of the bed; pulling your legs close enough to him so he could rest your thighs on his shoulders.

“clark, what-?” before you could finished your sentence clarks hot tongue was pressed against you, licking a broad swipe from hole to clit. a borderline squeal was pulled from you when he did this and it melted into a deep moan when he circled his tongue around your clit, his ministrations deep and purposeful. you hand flies down to tug at his hair, deep groans reverberating from him sending deep vibrations through your pussy.

you legs clamp and release clarks head as he digs into you like a man possessed, perverse slurps and squelches bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. a technicolor explosion blooming behind your eyelids each time he dips his tongue into you, collecting as much of your juices as possible before swallowing it down. he was devouring you, something between worship and starvation in the way he ate you out.

“need you show you, nothing compares to you. im made for you.” clark rambled when he came up for hair, his face shiny with the neon lights bouncing of the slick juices that cover his mouth and chin. “you’re the only thing i want on my tongue. nothing tastes as good as you sweetheart.”

your thighs were quivering on his shoulders when he dove back in, the breath of air all he needed to go back with even more ardor. every swipe of his tongue punched all the air out of your lungs, barely giving you enough time to inhale just to expel whatever you could get in a broken moan. you alternated between griping clarks black curls and gripping onto the bedsheets, but every time you grabbed and pulled on his hair his hips stuttered into the side of the bed.

he was panting into your pussy, whimpering with every single tug of his hair. you stopped grabbing the sheets, opting to continue doing whatever was making him do that. clark was so caught up in the act of getting you off and eating you out that he couldn’t catch on to what you were doing; and with every single pull his hips jerked harder. you could feel the sensation of every muscle pulling taught, you pussy fluttering on clark’s tongue causing him to intensify his movements.

“fuck clark don’t stop.” your voice cracks when you say his name making him moan, tugging his hair particularly hard when your back arches. clark continues letting out broken moans against your cunt and tears are welling up in your eyes from the pleasure. you blinked and squeezed your eyes shut trying to will the tears away, but they just dripped down your cheeks making more replace them. you were hiccuping as your body twitched and spasmed. at some point clark at hooked his arms fully around your legs that were still propped atop his shoulders. he was bordering on being suctioned to your pussy and it made you question if he would ever let up. just too much too much too much.

“clark!” you saw stars before you squeezed your eyes shut; you legs sealing your boyfriend between your thighs connected to your core. your juices flooded onto into his mouth and onto his face and he sucked and slurped everything you gave him, eyebrows knitted together, and his hips stuttering as something in his pelvis splintered into a scorching fire. before he could even realize mush less stop, thick ropes of cum panted the inside of his underwear in his dress pants. he was fulling grinding into the side of the bed at this point

“haah… agh fuck hnng! i-im sorry!” clarks face was bright red, all the blood that was once flooding his dick now coursing straight to his face. he hadn’t done that in… a while. he used to a lot back when you both first started dating but he was really embarrassed about it and forced himself to work on it. it always turned you on even more that he could barely control himself, but you understood his feelings.

him grabbing your hips hard enough to bruise, a low warning groan coming from his mouth when he mutters a clipped ‘stop’. you just smile innocently continuing your dutiful work at his face. letting him slip back into something more relaxed, his hands hanging loosely from your hips.

grinding back down onto his torso, examining his facial expressing as small breaths are pushed past your lips. bruce’s fingers digging into your hips once more, something flickering in his gaze as he glares at you. bruce finally giving in as he moved your hips himself.

“i thought you were just being nice, should’ve fucking known you had an ulterior motive. slut.” moaning as bruce mercilessly grinds you down against his torso; crying out after a particularly hard pass. the rag you had in your hand hanging absentmindedly, your brain too busy with what was going on right now to keep cleaning bruce’s face. bruce staring up at you, an expression you could never read plastered to his face as he manhandles you.

“fuck… fuck bruce!” your head swings back, your mouth flying open as more moans and whimpers leave you. your noises spurring him on even more, pressing you down harder; you clit catching on the fabric of your panties over and over. the friction becoming overwhelming as you thighs clench around his torso, clamping him underneath you.

“come on, babe you got it. you started this so finish with a bang.” something about the tone in bruce’s voice sending white hot shockwaves through you body, sparks popping behind your eyelids with your eyes screwed shut. you body tensing like a rubber band pulled as far as it can go, before snapping back with such force it rocks you, making your back arch. arching causing even more pressure on your clit. everything being just too fucking much.

your body crumbling under the force of your orgasm, aftershocks vibrating through every muscle and nerve ending. you collapse, folding over and slumping against bruce’s front. him lightly massaging your hips and ass soothingly. the air of comfort only lasting a few moments before bruce breaks it all, voice cutting through the silence.

no use of y/n, she/her reader, soft dom clark, body worship, size kink, praise kink, explicit consent kink?? idk clark just really wants to hear you say it, dry humping, unprotected sex but reader on the pill, cock warming, premature orgasm, not beta read im sorry sorry

thinking about how clark kent would be if you had gotten real close to getting hurt or worse. like imagine getting home after almost dying or something. how delicate he would be with you, hyper aware of where he positions you or how he handles you. his eyes flicking everywhere across your body, inspecting you inside and out.

your hands would graze everywhere you could touch — and even when your hands fell back down beside you he would whisper, voice just barely wavering “no no please… please keep your hands on me. please baby.”

the desperation in his voice alone was enough to control you; hands immediately flying back to caress and squeeze whatever you could. small breaths escape either of you as clark continued to check you over. he would comb through you with a fine tooth comb, analyzing every little scrape, or birthmark, anything that caught his attention on your body.

“i dont know what- i cant believe i was so close to.” theres a sharp crack when he says close and he cuts himself off by pressing his lips to yours. he cant even begin to voice whats happening in his head right now. not unless he wanted to unravel right in front of you. he needs to show you how much he needs you right now.

you would give him everything he wants and more; showing him just how much you need him too. you couldn’t admit the fear that would’ve crept into you very soul, finding a cozy little spot to settle down in. you needed to be swallowed up in him. the kiss turning from scared and desperate to heated and passionate. clark’s tongue grazing across your bottom lip before gently entering your mouth.

the feeling of clark’s mouth is nothing you had ever felt before. he worships with his mouth. his lips would leave yours and he’d slowly work his way down your face, to your neck and collarbones. he memorizes your body every single time, as if he would never get the chance again. tonight that would’ve almost been his reality, and he makes sure you’re aware of that.

his fingers prod at your arms, your legs, squeezing and massaging as his mouth leaving ghost kisses all over you. “if i couldn’t do this to you every night i’d… fuck i don’t know what i would do.” there was something in his eyes, something that screamed he would rip the earth in half, if that were ever the case. you couldn’t ever imagine a reality where the man that sacrifices so much of himself to safe earth every day, would let it just burn. but you guess that’s a reality without you in it.

“that’s never going to happen. you were there tonight, im here right now.” you would grab one of his hands and place it on your chest, directly above your heart. he could hear it of course, but feeling it under his hand caused tears to well into his eyes. he’d vow that whatever it took, this heart under his hand would keep beating. no matter what.

he can’t help himself when his hips are resting directly on top of your own, his hips moving gently against you. you’d let out a small gasp, eyes widening just a little with the friction between you two.

“tell me to stop baby… please tell me.” his eyes are screwed shut as if he’s genuinely trying to stop his hips but can’t. you can’t either. you both need this.

when you don’t respond a dam in clark bursts open, his hips grinding into yours with more fervor. your hands haven’t stopped roaming his body since he asked you, fingers pressing into the solid muscle underneath the thinnest layer of skin. he felt like a marble statue wrapped in satin, silky smooth and hard as stone. small gasps and pathetic moans dripped from your mouth, spurring him on even more.

“i cant believe you’re letting me do this. you deserve better, you need better! shit-! baby i love you im sorry. if i hurt you i won’t forgive myself.” you silence him with another kiss, smiling slightly into it.

“you could never in a million years hurt me clark. you are the safest person in the world. you will always protect me, so just let go. we both need it.” your words take a second to register in his head. he can’t believe he would have ever gotten so lucky as to even be in the same room with you, let alone in a relationship.

“okay… okay but promise me, you will tell me if i am too much?” you can’t begin to understand what ‘too much’ even is with him but you nod all the same. “no baby, i need to hear you. say it.” you could feel your face heat up with the tone in his voice. he always made your stomach flutter even without trying.

“i promise.” the biggest smile you’ve seen all night blossoms onto clark’s face, before he dives down to meet your lips.

“good girl.” you could feel a way of heat rush through you with those words. that dangerous fucking mouth of his. his hands have found a home on both of your tits, massaging gently. soon enough your shirt was being peeled off you, your bra following suit. clark’s hands snuck down to your pants slowly unbuttoning them. his arm dipped under your back, wrapping around you waist and lifting effortlessly. using his other hand he slowly slid your pants off you; leaving you only in your panties.

“you’re so gorgeous. you are ethereal. i mean, i can’t comprehend that you’re a real being.” there was such reverence and adoration in his voice it almost brought you to tears, but with a particularly strong stroke of his hips on your panty clad pussy, a broke mix between a whimper and a moan fell out of your mouth.

“fuck and i could listen to those noises on repeat twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.” his hands wandered its way down your torso before cupping your pussy gently. a gasp ripped out of clark, finger pads dipping lightly at the wet patch soaking into the center of your panties. “oh my god baby, you’re gonna kill me.” he sounded winded, like the air had been punched out of him.

you squeeze your thighs around his arm, whimpering while looking up at clark. you were tugging on his sweatpants; extremely offended that he had more clothes on than you. you lips were dipping into a frown as you pulled a little harder on the waistband, leaning up to bite at his chest in protest.

“woah there, where are your manners baby?” clark leaned back a bit to look at you fully, a disapproving yet teasing smile tugging at his lips.

“i just don’t it’s fair that you still have clothes on…” you turned your head, cheek pressing into the cool fabric of your bedsheets as heat rushes to your face again; his attention never failing to turn you into a mess.

“what do you say baby?” his voice was light and teasing as he raised an expectant eyebrow.

“can you take your pants off please?” your voice was wavering, refusing to meet his eyes.

“you even said please, what an angel. how could i ever refuse you?” he stood back, taking his sweatpants off before quickly slotting himself between your legs again. with only two thin layers of cotton separating you two, you could really feel everything about him now.

“i know we’ve gotten this far but baby, i really want to- no i need to hear you say you want this baby please.” the look in his eyes, the earnestness im his voice.

“clark i need this. i need you. please please please clark.” you could see his pupils dilate, swallowing his irises until a thin ring of pristine blue remained. he let out something between a groan and a moan as he ground his cock into your pussy, the underwear adding delicious friction.

it was only a few more moments of this until both of you decided it was not enough, clark leaning back to allow you to lift you hips so he can slip your panties off. he throws them somewhere across the room, his underwear following swiftly after.

before your body could start to get cold clark was back on you, slotting his cock between the lips of you pussy and grinding. he moved with purpose and determination, wetting himself before he’d push into you. he knew you could take it, but he usually ate you out or fingered you before you guys stared.

“tell me to stop if it hurts please angel?” you nodded, responding with a breathy ‘yes clark..’ and that was all he needed for him to push himself into you slowly. the burning stretch is an immediate sensation, and clark can tell by the way your eyes screw shut and you suck a breath in between gritted teeth. he immediately has a thumb rubbing soft circles into your clit to help take your mind off the stretch.

his touch shot electricity through every nerve ending, a wildfire engulfing every muscle fiber. your back arches up slightly on the bed, your mouth stretched open as moans float from you. he was pushing in so slowly and still it almost felt too much, but the waves of pleasure rolling through your body off your clit was enough to block any other thought that wasn’t ‘oh my god i feel so good’.

“you’re doing so good baby, im almost all the way in you got this angel.” clark was staring so intently at your face, watching for anything that might signify that he needs to stop. but all he could see was ecstasy and it made it even harder for him to stay slow. but this wasn’t supposed to be for him. he was three quarters of the way in now, and you could feel a tight knot coiling in your core; ever muscle in your body tensing and releasing. if you came just from this, your brain would never let you live it down but everything just felt too much. the burning stretch of his cock splitting you open, the feeling of him hitting and rubbing every possible space in your body he possibly could.

clark could feel your walls fluttering around him, squeezing and releasing rapidly. his eyes widen just slightly when he realized just how close you were but he couldn’t stop the movement of his thumb. if anything he starting moving faster, pressing a little harder.

“no no clark wait- fuck baby! im close you’re gonna make me cum baby wait!” you were writing underneath him, and as you finish you sentence clark sinks all the way to the base. the loudest moan yet was ripping from your lungs, your head pressing harder into the pillows as your body arched further. your toes curled as much as possible making them shake with how tense your muscles are.

there is a sudden snap in your core, pussy clenching down on clark’s cock over and over again as the waves of your orgasm rock over you. there is a flash of white behind your eyelids, and clark cannot pull his gaze away. he reminds himself to record your orgasm to watch whenever he needed a pick me up; but that’s for a later date. his thumb never stops its movements as it guides you through the aftershocks. you feel boneless and limp when you come down from your high, clark staring at you like you just hung the moon in the sky.

“oh god… fuck clark- shit… im sorry i couldn’t-“ he silences you with a gentle kiss, free hand coming up to caress your cheek. you barely had time to say anything else before clark thrust into you ever so slightly, a silent message to you. a promise.

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore. 

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.