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#astv x reader
satoshiiarts · 4 months
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Did this without any references, just pure imagination and memory so it looks wonky..
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esmedelacroix · 5 months
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Miguel And Your Baby Bump !
futuredad!miguel o'hara loves your cute baby bump ♥︎
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️
futuredad!miguel o'hara who wakes you up by gently caressing your stomach and lays his head against your belly bump. He plants soft kisses against your stomach as a little groan rises in your throat and you run your hands through his hair. "Good morning, mama," he would mumble softly.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who would love seeing you in cropped tops around the house with your baby bump peeking out. He would constantly be looking at you. He loved it when you wore tank tops. They fit a little small, so you just let them ride up your swollen stomach.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who loves to creep behind you whenever you're helping him out with dinner or getting ready in the morning. He hugs you from behind both hands on your belly. You smiled at him through the mirror as you put your earrings on. Beams of golden light spilled into the room and illuminated your skin, now riddled with Miguel's kisses. "I don't think I've ever seen a woman as beautiful as you are," he whispered, as he placed his chin on your head, and the two of you admired each other in a comfortable silence.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who makes a playlist with your favorite songs and plays them for the baby. He's big on prenatal music and would come home to you with a new classical music prenatal track that helps baby brain development or helps with soothing.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who used to sit in his study late at night reading up on books about his studies on genes and the multiverse, now spends most nights reading about healthy prenatal habits, postpartum health, and good parenting. Miguel, your workaholic husband who used to let work keep him awake, was now pulling all-nighters reading up on the best foods for pregnant women and babies, how to play with young babies, the best bottle cleaners, and different car seats.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who was always big spoon hands resting protectively around you and on your stomach. Miguel knew that when your baby was 25 weeks in the womb, he could hear. So on top of playing music, Miguel spoke to him. He told your baby about 'how mommy met daddy' and how his day went. He knew the baby couldn't understand him but he wanted your baby boy to recognize his voice. You started talking to your baby too sometimes.
futuredad!miguel o'hara who reads to you every night he can in front of the fireplace with your head in his lap as he runs his fingers through your hair. He was reading one of your favorite romance books to you and the baby when suddenly you felt little kicks. You gasped propping yourself up on your elbows. "Miguel!" you whispered, bringing his hand to your stomach where your baby was kicking. Miguel gasped when he felt the little kicks. The two of you laughed, feeling your son kicking like a little ninja in your stomach. "Looks like he already has his dad's soccer skills," he chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze.
. . .
next part → Miguel As A "Boy Dad" !
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅🍼𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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Absolutely Ravenous
Kinktober Day 25: Mirror Sex
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it irl i am begging), mirror sex obviously, slight degradation, overstimulation, kind of free use, Miguel is feral again what can I say (w/c: 1K)
A/N: SO even though I did not get all of Kinktober done within the month, I am determined to finish all of the prompts! So just stay tuned for days 26-31 in the coming month, and you can think of it like Kinkvember or somethin'. ANYWAY back to it with Miguel because I was inspired by this ask!! (Of course, I am using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)
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He’s relentless, ravenous, fucking insatiable. 
Miguel O’Hara is a man who prides himself on his control over every situation. He has to be in control, for the good of the Spider Society, for the good of the multiverse. He knows when to stop, when he’s reached a certain limit. He’s careful to keep himself objective and distant, especially in front of the other Spiders.
But not with you. Never with you.
He’s careful and collected, but the second he has you behind closed doors, all bets are off.
Miguel is a fucking animal when he gets like this, needy for your touch, desperate to fuck you over and over until you both can’t possibly move anymore. On nights like these, he wrings you dry, breaking you to pieces on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. 
He’d fucked you on the floor in your living room the moment he’d walked through the door, pounding you into the rug and snarling at the feel of you, his eyes bleeding red.
He’d carried you to your bed immediately after, eating his cum out of you with clawed hands digging into your thighs, holding you steady as you thrashed against the sheets. He’d fucked you again, pumping more cum into your abused pussy and kissing the tears from your eyes.
He carries you to the shower like a gentleman after that, like he hasn’t just fucked you within an inch of your life. He washes the sweat off your body while you cling to him, resting your cheek against his broad chest. And his desperate fingers just can’t seem to help themselves, dragging through the seam of your pussy and sinking two of them deep inside of you.
And you’re just as needy, just as ravenous. So you let him. You take everything he gives you and thank him for it. You grasp onto his shoulders and moan pleases and thank yous into his mouth as he finger-fucks you beneath the spray of hot water.
You let him drag you out of the shower and bend you over the bathroom sink. You let him push his fat cock into your pussy without protest, just as desperate for it as he is. 
That’s the thing about nights like these, it’s never fucking enough.
He just looks so big behind you, his body tense and muscles rippling as he drives into you over and over and over again. He’s like a beast over his prey, and the sight of it makes you shake, your body forced to open to him as he takes control.
You both are still dripping wet from the shower, the bathroom steamy and hot, and God, you feel lightheaded. You grip onto the marble of the counter for dear life as his cock stretches you so goddamn wide, reaching so fucking deep. His fingertips dig into your hips, pulling you back into every single thrust, bullying his cock as deep into you as fucking possible.
“Fuck, baby,” he slurs through his fangs, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Look so fucking gorgeous like this, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so perfect.”
“Miguel, I can’t-” you whimper, tears leaking down your face and dripping into the sink below you. “It’s too much, fuck, I can’t cum again, I can’t.”
“You can, hermosa, you’re my good girl, you can do it,” he says, pulling you back into him harder, practically fucking you onto his cock, using you like a toy, and you cry out, your head dropping to hang down and just fucking taking it.
“Look at me,” he growls. “Look at how good I fuck you.” He curls a fist into your hair and pulls, dragging your head back up to look into your reflection. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, bebita? Getting fucked like a little whore, and good whores cum when they get fucked like this. Don’t I treat this pussy so good, honey? Don’t I deserve to feel you cum?”
You jerk in his hold like you’ve been struck by fucking lightning, painful moans ripping your way out of your throat every time he drives in in in. “Yes, fuck,” you croak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “You fuck me so perfect Miguel, it feels- it feels so fucking big inside, can’t- I can’t fucking breathe.”
A hard smack lands on your ass, sending pain ringing through your body alongside relentless pleasure, and you scream, meeting his hard gaze in your reflection. And God, he’s beautiful. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his fangs peaking past his full lips. He looks like a god, his muscles bulging and shifting beneath his shining, golden skin. 
“Watch,” he snarls, primal and fucking mean, and it makes you clench around him involuntarily. “Watch me make you cum.” He reaches beneath you to rub his thick fingers into your aching clit, and you do.
You can only watch, mouth agape around a silent scream, as pleasure wracks your body, shuddering as you clench around Miguel’s cock. It’s painful after he’s made you cum so many times tonight, but God, it’s so fucking good. You feel like you’re dying, trembling in his hold as he rocks you back onto him through your orgasm. 
“God, that’s fucking good,” he breathes, pumping into you once, twice more before stilling, sucking in a beath through clenched teeth as he floods you full of cum all over again. He’s gorgeous to watch, the tendons in his neck tightening, his eyes fluttering as he groans through his orgasm.
He pulls you back up against him to rest you against his warm body, not the cold, hard sink. It’s bliss.
“We’re going to have to shower again, Miguel,” you murmur, and you watch Miguel’s face twitch into a smirk in the mirror. Your heart flutters. “Separately, Mig, we have to get clean sometime,” you chastise.
He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. “Maybe sometime, but not tonight, hermosa,” he murmurs, and it sounds like pure sin. “Not before I’m done with you.”
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xannsin · 1 month
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warning: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Hardcore sex, Praise, Creampie
Précis: He’s an overprotective ‘best friend’.
A/N: this is my first write, bare with me lol, also major credits to @cherryredstars for inspiring me, thank u :)
Edits & Look-overs: 2
It’s 3am.
You’re walking back to your college dormitory building, exhausted from a night out. Your feet hurt, you have a slight wobble in your walk, and your lungs feel like they burn with every step you take due to the cold air. A misty cloud fleets from your mouth with every exhale.
You left without Miguel’s knowledge. Which, to him, is a big no-no. He isn’t possessive over you, per se, but he does like to know when you leave the dorm you two share together. That’s all he asks for, and you didn’t even do that. He’s been protective over you your whole friendship with him. It pisses you off sometimes but you can’t help but wonder why he is the way he is with you. You mulled over how he’d always hold you close whenever you two went out, like he was trying to show off this imaginary ownership over you, and when he’d give guys death stares at their attempts to flirt with you. That was the least he did — there was a long list of his overprotective ways with you, but those are just the ones you thought about mostly.
When you finally get to your dorm, you unlock the door with your key before quietly opening the door. Thankfully it wasn’t a squeaky door, the faintest squeak of the door or a creak of a floorboard would probably wake Miguel up. He was a really light sleeper. You close the door behind you and lock it before turning around and seeing Miguel sitting on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, his laptop on his lap as he types away, not even looking at you. You freeze up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Miguel? Why are you up so late?” you ask, holding your breath as you wait for his answer. “I could ask you the same thing.” he replies, his husky voice making you exhale nervously.
“Well… I was out,” you mutter, “I didn’t want to wake you just to tell you so I-”
“Don’t.” he interrupts, “just don’t. You didn’t wake me up and tell me because you didn’t want me to know. Look, you’re my best friend and I worry about you. I worry about what could happen to you when you’re out of my sight. I feel responsible for your well-being, and all I ask of you is to just let me know where you’re going, and you can’t even do that, mm? Do you know how worried I was, huh? Huh?!” he exclaims, his voice getting louder as he spoke. You stay silent for a few minutes before sighing, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, I just… I-” you’re cut off again by his booming voice, “No, you’re not fucking sorry! Carajo!”
There’s a long pause. You’re a little shaken up, he’s never yelled at you before. “Where were you?” he finally asked, closing his laptop and setting it down before finally looking at you with slightly tired eyes. “I was out clubbing.” you say. He groans at your words, pinching his temple. “With?” he asks shortly after. “I was alone…” you say quietly, causing him to open his eyes. He stands up and walks over to you, his 6’9" frame towering over you. He barely keeps a distance between you and him.
“Listen to me and listen well,” he grunts, grabbing your arm, “I don’t know if you’re too dull to understand this but if something ever happens to you I couldn’t possibly live after that. You may think I’m being overdramatic, and while I’m not disagreeing with you, it’s for a reason, Y/N.” He sighs, staring at you with those piercing crimson red eyes.
“You understand the danger of going out alone, right? I wouldn’t have to be like this if people weren’t horrible, but Y/N, you don’t understand how easily you can get snatched up, hurt, killed, and so on. Especially at night, where sickos like that lurk every street corner and alleyway. I’ve lived through it. You haven’t. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes you so unaware when you’re walking home, but whatever it is, it’s pissing me off.”
You pause for a minute as he gives his big spiel. “How’d you know I was drinking?” you ask, crossing your arms. “Are you serious? You have a wobble in your walk. Either your feet hurt and you’re drunk or it’s a mix of both, your breath reeks of alcohol, and you’re slightly slurring. If you were trying to hide it then that’s… that’s just sad.” Miguel sighs. “I’m glad you’re safe, I really am, but can’t you acknowledge what I’m saying?”
“I… I-I just…” you trail off, sniffling. You try to retract your arm from his grasp but his hand is clenched around your arm. “You just what?” Miguel asks. “I just don’t understand why you care about me so much!” you finally exclaim. After a moment of silence, he’s finally had enough. He tugs you by the arm, “Let’s go.” You’re fucked. Probably in many other ways than metaphorically. He drags you to his room, slamming the door open and pushing you in. He shuts the door behind him and locks it before grabbing you and setting you on the bed, slipping his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to be sensual, passionate, gentle sex.
He climbs in bed and gets on top of you, staring at you. Your breath was hitched, your eyes were wide. He rolls his eyes before looking down and beginning to unbutton your shirt. It was agonizingly slow, like he wanted to build up your anticipation. “I guess I have to show you how much I care about you since you can’t understand.” Miguel says, getting to the last few buttons. You squirmed slightly, not saying anything back other than an ‘I’m sorry’ under your breath. Miguel just shook his head gently, unbuttoning the last button.
He slipped your pretty blouse off and tossed it to the side. He leaned down more, his mouth hovering over your lips. He finally leaned in just a bit more, enough for your lips to barely touch. But he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction. He just gently grazed his teeth over your lip before trailing his lips down to your neck, where they’d actually settle. His tongue poked out of his lips to graze it over your neck.
He reached his arm up, his large hand going behind your neck and grabbing a fistful of hair to keep you in place as he licked and sucked your neck. He eventually started leaving carmine red hickeys all over your neck. You whined and whimpered under him, all you could really do. He was in tune with your body. Your sensitive spots, what your body responded to, what it didn’t. He knew you.
He pulled back to gauge your expression. You were all hot and bothered, your breaths coming in and out in little huffs. The edges of his lips slightly curled up in a devilish smirk. His thumb rubbed your bottom lip. That ‘tender’ moment didn’t last long until he went back to work. He leaned down and continued kissing and marking you all over, his kisses trailing down your body and leaving spots of saliva in their wake. When he reached the hem of your jeans, he began unbuttoning them.
Once that was done, he pulled them off in one strong tug and tossed them onto the floor behind him. One more obstacle — your panties. He kissed your inner thighs, rubbing your wetness through your panties. He could practically feel your sex pulsing in your panties. He ran his fingers over the black laced hem before slipped them off and tossing them to the side. There it was, what he was looking for. “So wet already.” Miguel mumbled as he began unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them off. He grabs the hem of his boxers and slips those off too, tossing the fabric to the side. Your eyes widen at his length, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back under him, where you were before. You whine when he slaps his heavy cock against your cunt. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.
He positions himself over you, and you struggled a little bit more. “M-Miguel, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, I’m not-”
“Shh,” Miguel interrupts, patting your cheek a little roughly, “no need to talk. You’ll be fine.” You stay silent but you’re breathing heavily through your nose as you feel Miguel reach down and stroke his tip along your folds. “I’m sure you can take me.” he says, his tone nothing close to passionate. His voice was husky and rough. He stopped teasing you with his tip once he felt your entrance before sinking into you with one push. It was slow and painful, but then it dissipated as he began moving his hips. The pace itself didn’t start off slow or soft, he immediately dove into hammering into you.
You cried out, throwing your head back onto the pillow as his shaft slid in and out of your wet sex. You closed your eyes and panted, but you flinched as you felt Miguel’s hand tightly gripping your chin. “Look at me. Mírame.” he says as he pounds into you. You let out a whine in response as your glassy eyes looked into his. He curses under his breath, holding your waist so you stay in place with one hand, and holding himself up with the other. You never knew dick felt this amazing.
You were feeling this way and he was only a little over halfway in. He was making his way deeper, and you felt it. You went to hold his hand, and he took his hand in yours, your fingers intertwining. Your mouth slightly fell agape and you let out a choked out moan as he bottomed out inside you, his balls nestling tightly against your ass. He fucks the noise out of you, you can’t do anything but let out choked out moans. “Lift your hips for me.” Miguel says, wanting better leverage to your pussy. You weakly lift your hips and he grabs ahold of them, sitting up just a tad to fuck you better. His balls repeatedly slap against your ass with every thrust, fucking a pathetic noise out of you every once in a while. Your boobs moved up and down with the movement, and the headboard squeaked as your body hit it.
“So beautiful…” Miguel murmured, taking one of your boobs in his hand and resting it there, his grip tight on your titty.
You were slightly lightheaded on dick. Creamy little clap noises mixed with Miguel’s grunts and your little noises filled the room. Your seeping juices coat Miguel’s cock with every in-and-out motion his shaft does into you, leaving his cock slicked and with a shiny little coat on it from you.
He was like a machine, his stamina was incredible because he showed no signs of slowing down just yet. “Who’s my good girl, hm? Had a bit of a scare tonight, didn’t we?” he says, hoisting your knees up on his shoulders so he had more leverage. He reaches down and toys with your clit, rubbing his thumb in circular motions on your nub. You whine at the double stimulation. You don’t know if you can take much longer of this before climax slowly comes knocking. Miguel struggled to hold off his climax the more your walls pulsated and tightened around his throbbing cock.
But it didn’t end there. He pulled out of you suddenly, flipping you onto your back roughly and getting behind you. You didn’t even have enough time to react. “Keep that back arched baby.” Miguel says, placing his hand on your back to keep your arch in that position. He uses his other hand to guide himself back in your dripping cunt again, continuing his rough pace. His strokes were deep, fast, and most importantly, calculated. You nuzzled your face in the pillow, and Miguel grinned slightly your muffled screams of pleasure, his lips curving upward.
“Such a good girl… you take me so well…” he breathed out, catching your hand as you swung it back to hold his. “Give me your other hand.” Miguel said, getting both hands and holding them by your wrists as he continued to fuck you roughly. Your upper half bounced slightly upward with every thrust because your arms were being pulled back. “M-Mig.. Mig…” you choke out, whining as his balls smack against your clit. “Qué te pasa, mami? Hm?” he asked rhetorically, his shaft sliding in and out of you with ease. He was getting so close.
He let go of your hands, your hands plopping back at your sides. He had a new fixation — your ass. He grabs both of your ass cheeks in his large hands, groping them and pulling them more towards him, meeting you halfway with his thrusts. With a few more of… doing that, his warm cum eventually shot inside of you.
The two of you moan loudly as you climax at the same time, your juices seeping onto his cock. He pulled out, leaving a trail of warm cum on the sheets, and it seeped out of you. He creampied you. Your best friend gave you a creampie.
“Come here. Fuck, come here.” Miguel pants, pulling you close to him. He wraps his arms around you from behind, both of you collapsing on the sheets.
“So, tell me,” he starts, “still think I don’t care about you?”
You inhaled and exhaled heavily before responding, “I do, I just knew if I said ‘I don’t understand why you care about me so much’ this would be the outcome.” you smirked, rolling over to face him. He froze.
“What?”
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madschiavelique · 11 months
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k
note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!
the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission
tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy
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Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:
"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”
Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.
The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...
"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.
The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.
"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.
"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."
"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.
"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.
The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.
"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"
"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."
Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.
"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.
"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."
"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"
"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.
"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.
"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.
You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"
The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.
"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."
It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.
Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.
"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"
He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:
"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."
I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.
"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.
"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.
Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.
Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...
"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.
You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.
Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.
So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.
And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.
"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.
"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"
"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.
"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.
"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.
Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.
It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.
You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.
Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.
"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.
"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.
And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.
He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.
Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.
"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."
Oh, it won't be sleep.
He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.
The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.
It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.
His nose wrinkled slightly.
"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"
Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.
"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."
And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.
"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.
He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...
But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.
His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.
So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.
"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.
A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.
"Where," the question sounding more like a command.
His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.
"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.
You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.
"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.
It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.
The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.
His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.
"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."
His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.
"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.
Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.
You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.
His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:
"Kiss me," you whined, "please."
His eyes crinkled with his smile.
"Mira que buena."
He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.
Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.
He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.
"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”
Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.
"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.
All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.
"I want... I want you to..."
You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.
The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.
"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.
You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :
"I want you to fuck me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.
His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.
"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.
You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.
You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.
And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:
"I want you to fuck me."
His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.
"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."
His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?
You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.
You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.
You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"
His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:
"Fuck me, please."
His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.
If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?
"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.
His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.
His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.
And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.
Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.
"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.
The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.
You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.
He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.
"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.
Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.
To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.
As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.
As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.
You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.
He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.
He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.
And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.
You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.
His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.
He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.
The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.
His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.
He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.
Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.
"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.
You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.
Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.
Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.
Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.
Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.
He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.
It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.
His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.
As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.
As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.
One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.
He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.
"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.
He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:
"Say that again."
A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.
"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."
He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.
His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.
"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"
Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.
"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.
Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.
"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.
"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.
His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.
"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.
"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.
His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.
"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."
With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.
Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.
Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.
The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.
You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.
"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."
The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.
"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"
His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.
"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"
You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.
"Use your words," he said simply.
"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."
He nodded, proud.
"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."
Timidly, you parted your lips.
"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.
You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.
Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.
His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.
"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.
"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.
He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:
"Ready?"
You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:
"Ready."
He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.
"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."
So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:
"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.
His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.
"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.
He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.
Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.
"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.
As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.
His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.
He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.
His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.
His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.
After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.
His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.
Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.
"Qué guapa," he breathed.
His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.
Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.
"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."
It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.
And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.
You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.
"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”
His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.
One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.
He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.
His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.
You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.
Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.
Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.
And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.
Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.
He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.
You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.
You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.
You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.
"How did you know?" he whispered.
The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.
"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.
He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.
"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.
"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.
"Two letters?" he asked, curious.
"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."
He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.
"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."
Us, two letters, a whole world.
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euaphora · 10 months
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.ܸ ྀི - INTIMATE | twitter links
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defention of dominat
filled up
speed
size kink
hold me
hold me 2
school girl
too much
skirt
hands around throat
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leviathxn · 3 months
Note
So I have a request for a Miguel fic, if you are willing to do it. 😊🤗
So...Miguel has a family but he hasn't told the other Spiders. One day he has to take his baby to work to look after him for a while. But then, in his office, bang the Spiders and see Miguel with a baby in his arms/or in a baby carrier. Later Miguel's wife comes in the picture too to take the baby in their universe.
OKAY I LOVE MIGUEL WITH A KID SM
So I know people were asking me for a part 2 on my other one so I’m gonna work on it but obviously it’s these requests firsttt
Thank you all so much for the support 💕
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“”Are you infected??”
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You were typically the one to watch the kids, the double trouble twins. Miguel was a busy man, protecting the spider-verse and all, so you would work from home and play with the twins. It wasn’t so bad, of course Miguel felt bad that he couldn’t have as close of a relationship with them but they still very much knew who their daddy was ((and you did too 😳)). But overall it was a good system and you would get to take things slow at home while being a fun mother.
However, every so often there was days you would need to go into work, very rare but still at least a semiannual occurrence. Sometimes you would even take them into work and they would end up bothering coworkers, but most times you were able to get a family member or close friend to watch them but as they’ve gotten older, spider powers started to shine through. Not only was it hard to control them but it would be too revealing.
Obviously nobody knew Miguel was spider-man, but if two twins started to hang on ceilings, people would eventually put two and two together. This meant you couldn’t leave them with family, resulting in Miguel carrying them around in double baby backpacks. One would be on his chest, the other in him back.
Miguel, in typical fashion, stayed in his office. Nobody assumed anything by his yelling, the man was weird, what would be surprising if he was schizo? Although every now and then people would look at each other, it didn’t sound like typical frustration or talking to himself, it was almost a back and forth. They were in no way heavy, but oh my, they were annoying. How did you get a grip on these two? They’re animals. Halfway through the day, the twins got out of the carriers and there was no going back.
“Put that down! Ay- I’m sorry don’t cry- HEY”. Miguel was struggling, because he loved the kids and he felt so bad for yelling but they wouldn’t listen. He thought to himself about the teens. You’d think as they get older they’d be better, but he saw himself comparing them to his 1 year old twins.
Disgusted at the thought, he grabbed them and webbed their hands. They giggled, struggling to get it off. It was a good distraction….. for like 3 minutes, then they were back to running around. He tried playing fetch with the twins but that didn’t go very well. They were just.. confused. Why did he throw the toy the just got. Although he appreciated their thinking skills, he really had no idea what to do. He held both of his kids, they hung from his arms and were climbing around him like a jungle gym.
Completely lost in thought about his children dilemma, the doors to his office opened, and the lovely teen band walked in. What a sight for them to see. Miguel standing completely disheveled and staring into space, a kid on his shoulder grabbing his ear, and another kid gorilla hugging his ((massive)) leg and trying to bite the suit.
Panic bells went off, everybody rushing over to Miguel. Was this an attack, was Miguel okay? Oh my gosh he’s being attacked by alien morphing baby things. As they all got ready to ready for the babies, Miguel jumped back, making sure to grab hold of his kids, and getting defensive.
“What the hell is your guys problem?!!” He shouted, sheltering both of his kids, who were now on high alert and looking fearful.
“Are those Aliena??? What happened to you, what did they do?? Why do you look like that!” Miles replied back to him, pointing his fingers at both babies. “Are you infected??”
Hobie, naturally didn’t look concerned, and stop back. “Mate, they look just like him”
“They bit him and took his DNA!! That’s why he’s protecting him”, Pavitr shouted while getting in an offensive position. Hobie almost lost is as he hurled over. Gwen looked over for a moment, then back to Miguel. “Wait… those are your kids”
“WHAT”. Miles and Pavitr shouted, looking at the very tired Miguel. “By that doesn’t make sense- you’re not- are you married??”. Questions flew right and left, chaos ensued as the babies ran around again. Miguel was done, SO DONE with babysitting the actual babies and now the teens.
Suddenly the door opened again, a very sweaty you running through. “Oh Miggy- I’m sorry I’m late I just got so lost in this place, but I’m here for the twins”. Miguel looked over at you in panic, the teen’s immediately stopped in their tracks. As the kids ran to you, so did the teens…. and what was supposed to be Miguel’s saving grace, ended up in having everybody over for dinner.
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Ahh I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for, I traveled today to see a college and I’m writing this very late so I hope you don’t mind that it’s rushed. I’ll get more writing done this week since I’m on break, I promise!
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Text
Touch starved! hobie loves to have his hands on you. His hand might be on your hip, in your back pocket, fiddling with your ring finger, etc.
Touch Starved! Hobie who doesn't care who sees him kissing your neck, marking and biting just to get any taste of you.
Touch Starved! Hobie who leans in everytime you pull away. Your touch lingers against his cheek, leaving soft sparks against the tinted skin.
Touch Starved! Hobie who lets you do his eyeliner because he loves the feeling of being close to you. Having you in his lap with his eyes closed and the most dazed look on his face. He's in heaven.
Touch Starved! Hobie who sprays his pillow with your perfume because he finds your scent so attractive.
Touch Starved! Hobie who's always got his arms wrapped around your waist from behind when standing around HQ. No one has ever seen you two apart, you're practically attached at the hip now.
Touch Starved! Hobie who is desperate for any touch you're willing to give him.
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allysunny · 3 months
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Safe in my Arms
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Drunk!Fem!Reader
Synopsys: A nigth out with your friends turns into you getting drunk. You're lucky your sweet Miggy has come to pick you up.
Words: 3.5k words
Warnings: Alcohol and being drunk, duh, reader is said to be shorter than Miguel and is wearing makeup, lots of fluff and a bit of crack, some suggestive themes. It's just a nice, fluffy and funny fic overall. Untranslated spanish, do tell me if I fucked that up, please.
A/N: Hey everyone!!!! So, three nigths ago I got fucking plastered and I was wondering about how nice it would be if Miguel was there to pick me up and take care of me. I love this man so much, he'd be the best at taking care of a drunk person, fight me.
It's kinda short and it's not my best work, because when I thought about writing it, I was drunk,,, and as I sobered up the inspiration kind of disappeared? I still think it's rather sweet though, and I hope y'all will enjoy it.
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“There you are, mi vida,” An extremely tall and rather handsome man said as he approached you near the bar. You’d been hanging out with your friends, celebrating the very-much promotion one of them had gotten. So far, it had been amazing. You all had been downing drinks and dancing to the sound of the catchy pop music playing on the speakers, and while you admitted your head felt lighter than it should be, and your limbs were getting harder to move around, you were still having an amazing town.
“Who are you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly to try and get a look at the stranger’s face. All you could make out were sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and what seemed like a soft smile playing on his lips.
“It’s me, honey, it’s Miguel. I’m here to take you home, do you have your things?”
Half of the things he said went over your head, the music far too loud and drowning out most of his speech. You shook your head and took a few steps backwards, putting your hands up.
“Sorry man, not interested. I’m here with a couple of friends.” You turned away from him and faced the very same friends you had just mentioned. The one being celebrated, Katie, smiled, somehow not noticing the imposing figure that stood behind you. You simply took her hand and spun her around a few times, laughing loudly as your feet swayed and the two of you tripped over and over again.
Another girl approached you to – rather, Miguel, and sighed before offering him an apologetic smile.
“Sorry to call you, she’s incredibly drunk and I didn’t want her doing anything stupid. I think it’d better if she goes home.”
Miguel gave her a tight-lipped smile and chuckled.
“Thank you for calling me. Before she left home, she said, and I quote, ‘Don’t worry Miggy, I’ll maybe have one or two drinks and head home.” He turned to you, standing on wobbly legs, and shouting loudly over the music.
“Well, you know her.”
“I do.” He nodded, before taking a few steps forward. “Thank you for calling me again, I’ll take her home now.”
“Thanks. Let us know when you two make it?”
“Of course.”
The girl walked away, leaving Miguel to look around himself – somehow, you’d disappeared in the middle of the crowd, and for a few seconds, it scared him shitless. Where the shock had you gone? You were standing just a few feet away from him just now. He turned around, walking and dodging the dancing bodies on the dance floor before he spotted someone whose hair resembled yours. Squinting, he made out your figure, leaning over the bar and gesticulating wildly.
Miguel approached you, sighing once more.
“ – And make it a double!” you yelled, before turning to face your friend and continuing to chat excitedly.
“Honey, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have another drink,” Miguel said as he walked up to you. He wanted to wrap an arm around your waist, or place a gentle hand on your lower back, but he knew you were intoxicated and might be upset that he was touching you so freely. So, he simply stood by your side, hands itching to touch, but never doing so.
“You again? Look man, I have no idea who you are, but I’d appreciate it if you left me alone.” You mumbled, eyeing him with disgust. “I have a boyfriend, and he could be here within a few minutes and kick your ass. So, if you don’t want to taste the floor, I’d recommend backing away from me.”
It broke Miguel’s heart to have you address him so roughly, with such harsh words. But it also filled him with a sense of pride – even intoxicated, you knew how to stand your ground. It also made him smile how you were quick to mention him.
“Cariño, it’s me, Miguel. I think you’ve had enough to drink, don’t you?” he asked, voice as gentle as possible, considering the loudness of the club.
You let out a snort and looked him up and down, suspicion evident in your eyes.
“You!? Miguel!? Yeah, sure, buddy. You’re not even half the man he is.”
Miguel crossed his arms, an amused smirk playing in his lips.
“Really? I’m not?”
“Not even close.” You faced the bar once again and smiled at the bartender who placed a drink in front of you.
“How so?”
“Well, first of all,” you took a sip of your drink, humming in appreciation, “You’re not as tall.”
“Ah. Not as tall?”
“Mhm. Miguel is huge, he’s this tall!” You faced him and stood on the tips of your toes, hand up to illustrate a height you clearly couldn’t reach. “He towers over me, you know, he’s huuuuuuuuge! And he’s super handsome, and you’re clearly not.”
“You don’t think I’m handsome?”
“Why would I? When I have my Miggy at home waiting for me?” You punctuated your statement with a large gulp from your drink. Miguel wanted to stop you, but he didn’t want to scare you by taking another step forward. “He’s the best boyfriend ever – you know, he gets up real early because he has a super important job, but he always makes time to cook breakfast for me.”
“He sounds like a dream,” The man before you nodded, leaning against the bar.
“Oh, he is. And he’s so kind and considerate. You know, people say he’s grumpy and mean, but I don’t really buy that.”
“Grumpy? Mean?” Miguel knew people didn’t think of him as the most affectionate or outgoing or overall happy person out there, but it was never nice to find out people spoke about him behind his back. Nothing he wasn’t used to, but it still hurt. However, your sweet words made up for it – they always did. You never chastised him for being standoffish, or for not being as excited as you were sometimes, or for being kind of a glum. You embraced him for who he was, giving him the space he needed when he needed it, and loving him and his traits completely. You never minded that he seemed a bit grumpy or rude, it was simply who he was. Besides, he was never rude to you. Sometimes he could be grumpy, yes, but he never once raised his voice at you or treated you badly. He was the sweetest when he was around you, all honest smiles, and relaxed hugs.
“Yeah. People say he’s like an all-year-round Grinch, but I don’t buy it. He’s so nice to me. He loves me so much and proves it every day. I don’t care what people say about him, I love him, and I think he’s fantastic, and really handsome, and so nice, and I love him, and I am not going to abandon him for you because we’re happy together. And you’re a stinky homewrecker!”
Miguel had to chuckle at that. He knew just how honest you were, and it would seem the alcohol in your blood was only amplifying that honesty. He nodded and reached for his phone, turning it on and showing you his lockscreen. Your face contorted in confusion as your eyes raked across the two figures on his phone. Your Miguel, in a dashing black suit, his arm tightly wrapped around you, wearing a dress that matched the colour of his burgundy tie.
You scrunched your nose, and looked from the picture to the strange man, and from the strange man to the picture.
“How do you have this picture of me and Miggy?”
“I told you, cariño, it’s me. I’m Miguel, I’ve come to pick you up.”
You shook your head.
“No, you’re not Miguel. I told you, you’re not as tall, nor as handsome, and you don’t sound like him. I’m not stupid, you know. I’m not gonna fall for this.”
You picked up your drink once more, and he sighed, trying to come up with something, anything that would make you stop drinking.
“How could I prove it to you?”
“Huh?” Your hand stopped mid-air and you frowned.
“How can I prove to you that I’m Miguel?”
“Hmmm….” You rubbed your chin comically and offered him a grin. “How did we meet?”
Miguel smiled softly.
“We were at the library. I wanted a book on Genetic Science, and you wanted a book on botany. Somehow, they were in the same shelf, although they really shouldn’t have been. I accidentally dropped by book when I saw you were on the other side of the shelf, and you helped me. The rest was history.”
Your expression of confusion had turned to a silly smile of content. You really did like your little meet-cute and bragged about having such a cute story to tell your friends and possibly your children in the future.
“Anyone could’ve told you that.”
“They really couldn’t.”
“Yeah, they could! Next question. What’s 40 + 40?”
Miguel raised an eyebrow.
“How does that prove anything?”
“My Miggy is super smart, he’d know the answer.”
“It’s 80. Honey, please, let’s go home. It’s getting late and you need to be taken care of, your hangover tomorrow is going to kill you, and I’d like to help minimize it.”
“What flowers did my Miggy bring me last week?”
“Peonies. Pink ones, just like the ones you’d seen at the park last month. I know just how much you liked them, so I brought a fresh bouquet home. You almost cried, because you were on your period, and you told me it was fate because just as I'd done something nice for you, you'd done something nice for me and had cooked me those empanadas I like.”
As the man before you recalled the memory, your features softened, and he shifted before your eyes. He wasn’t a stranger – far from it. That was your Miggy staring right at you. His kind brown eyes, his fluffy hair, his sharp jaw that you loved to trace with your fingers on lazy Sundays.
“Miggy?” your whole body relaxed, and you reached forward. Miguel understood immediately and gathered you in his arms, sighing of relief. Now that you remembered who he was, he could get you home safely. It’d be alright.
“Yeah, that’d be me.” He hugged you back tightly, rubbing circles on your back with his hand. “How about we go home? You need to get some rest.”
“You gonna take care of me, Miggy?” You looked up at him with a dazzling smile that he returned.
“Of course I am. You got your things?”
You move away from him to go back to your booth. You fetch your things (with a little bit of help from your boyfriend), say goodbye to your friends, and follow him outside of the club.
All it took was a few steps outside of the building and in the direction of Miguel’s car for you to lean over to your left and empty the contents in your stomach.
“Mierda,” Miguel whispered, holding back your hair and your clothes, and making sure you were okay. You weren’t. You sobbed for a while about how you were “utterly disgusting”, accused him of never wanting to see you again because he’d seen you puke and you were sure he was disgusted and thought you were disgusting, and now your life was ruined because you just loved him so much and you couldn’t live without him, and how were you supposed to move on when he was the love of your life and wanted to break up over some vomit?
“And – and – and I just love you so much – and if you leave me, I will never be the same, and I promise I will never vomit ever again, please don’t leave me, Miggy, we’re so happy together aren’t we? And there’s no need to ruin that over something as stupid as vomiting, and, and – “
“Ven aquí,” Miguel mumbled, pulling you close to him. He took a tissue out of his pocket – did he know this was gonna happen? – and wiped your mouth. Your eyes were sparkling as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not leaving you because you vomited. ¿Me entiendes?”
“Really?”
“Really. I love you, and no amount of vomit would make me stop loving you.”
You placed a hand on your mouth, making a gagging noise.
“Please don’t say ‘vomit’ again, or I’m – “
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. C’mon, let’s get you home.”
And that’s exactly what Miguel did. He brought you to his car, buckled you in (stopping halfway to kiss your face once or twice) and drove home. He was kind enough to not speed up too much, making sure to take turns extremely slow for your sake.
Once you got to your building, you nearly burst into tears again.
“The seventh floor!?” You exclaimed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t wanna – I can’t do all of that. I’ll just sleep here, and you’ll come get me in the morning. How is that, huh?”
“C’mere, muñeca.”
Without any more words, he picked you up in his arms, and you sighed in relief, burying your face in his neck. He smelled like Alchemax and coffee and him and you felt like the smell itself could lull you to sleep. He carried you up the stairs up to the seventh floor as if it was nothing – and it really wasn’t.
“Alright, we’re here.” He said, opening the door to your shared apartment. He put you down and carried you to your couch, where he left you for a few minutes while he prepared a light snack and some pills.
“I don’t wanna eat, Miggy, don’t wanna throw up again,” you whined.
“You can’t take these on an empty stomach, and you need to take these, otherwise tomorrow your pretty little head is going to hurt like hell. So, eat up.”
You groaned and threw your head back, but complied, nonetheless. Your boyfriend was an Alchemax scientist (not to mention Spider-Man), so he was pretty smart. He must know what he’s doing.
“Fiiiiiiiiine….” You took the crackers in the plate in front of you and gulped them down in an instant. They were nice – soft enough for your stomach to keep them inside, but still tasty enough to feel like food. Miguel surely was smart, how did he even come up with this?
Once you were done, you downed the glass of water and the few pills Miguel had placed on top of the small coffee table in front of you. You had no idea what they were for, but if he told you to take them, then that must mean it was for your own good.
“Alright, ready to take a bath?” Miguel asked as he appeared from inside your bedroom.
“A bath?”
“Yeah, don’t you want to clean up before bed? I can help you.”
You shook your head, whining softly. Your head was beginning to spin a tad less than when you were in the club, but you were sure you were going to either fall asleep or fall on the floor should you want to take a bath.
“Miggy, ‘m so tired…” you mumbled, leaning your head against the couch’s headrest. “Can’t we just go to sleep? I’ll shower in the morning… You can shower with me in the morning you know, and you can do that thing I really like, the one with your tongue, and – “
“Sí, sí. I get it.” He chuckled lightly before moving towards you. Miguel helped you up, steading you with an arm around your waist, just like he’d wanted to do at the club. Only now, you were completely out of harm’s way. “At least let’s get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Is that okay?”
“Mhm. That’s okay.”
Miguel led you to the bathroom, where he placed you on top of the sink in front of him. You laughed as you often did at his displays of strength and closed your eyes as he gently cleaned your face and removed every trace of makeup. You liked the feel of his hands on your skin, on your face, taking care of you so sweetly. It felt extremely intimate to have him take care of you like this.
“I love you, Miggy. Thank you for taking care of me and not breaking up when I vomited.”
“¿Es en serio? Why would I break up with you over something so silly as that, huh, muñeca? I love you. I promised to always take care of you, didn’t I?”
You looked into his eyes and nearly melted. There was nothing but kindness and adoration in his, and when you put your palm against his cheek to caress it, he turned to kiss it softly. His fangs grazed your hand and you chuckled. Your little vampire Spider-Man.
“You’re so good to me,” you mumbled. “Is my head gonna hurt tomorrow?”
“Most likely. And I don’t think you’ll remember any of our interactions tonight.”
“Really? Well then, you better take advantage of that.”
“How so?”
“Well, you could tell me something you didn’t want me to remember.”
Miguel pretended to think for a while, stroking an invisible beard and earning a few chuckles form you. Then, he placed his hands on either side of you on the side and brought his face closer to yours before beginning to whisper in that low voice of his that always got you blushing.
“I love you. Te amo con todo mi corazón. Eres mi todo. Mi vida. I could never part from you.” He stroked your cheek with the back of your hand, eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think I say this nearly as much as I should, but I’m so grateful to have you in my life. And I want you to be in it forever. I want to marry you, someday. I’ll take you somewhere real nice and propose and promise to devote my life to you forever. I’ll love and worship you like a goddess because that’s what you deserve. I was so broken before I met you, so lonely and empty. I don’t think I ever knew what true love was until we met. All my life I’ve felt alone. My relationships seemed superficial. And then you came along and changed all that. I’m not afraid of saying these things when you’re sober, it’s just – you know how bad I can be with words and feelings sometimes. And we’ve never really discussed marriage or anything like that, and I wouldn’t want to scare you. But my point is, thank you, cariño. You’re everything to me.”
You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say, so you clumsily wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you. Big fat tears were rolling down your cheeks, the alcohol in your blood making you more emotional. It was true – your Miguel wasn’t a man of many words. He would rather show his love and appreciation for you through actions. Cooking you dinner, bringing you your favourite sweets, remembering small details you’d told him days before. So, it made it all the more special when he did speak, especially when his words were this sweet.
“You’re so sweet, Miggy. I love you so much.”
Miguel helped you brush your teeth, and then he carried you to your bedroom, where he took off your clothes (or rather, helped you wrestle out of them) and helped you put on your favourite pyjamas.
“We’ll just get some clean sheets tomorrow,” he mumbled as he helped you lay down next to him. You wanted to toss and turn a few times, but after your stomach started complaining about all the movement, you decided to stay still and curl up into Miguel’s side.
“Dulces sueños, mi vida. If you need anything during the night, just let me know.”
“Okay. Night, Miggy. Love you, Miggy. Thanks for picking me up.” you nodded, nuzzling into his pectoral. Miguel felt something wet covering his chest and realised you were already out and drooling all over him. He chuckled – it wasn’t a problem for him. He’d let you do whatever as long as you were safe and sound and comfortable. And if you felt all those things in his arms, who was he to complain?
And as you fell into a deep slumber, you smiled, feeling your boyfriend’s grip tighten around you.
The following day, you did have a killer headache (that could’ve been much worse if Miguel hadn’t advised you to take those pills) and your limbs felt heavy and weird, and when Miguel asked you if you had any memories of the previous night, you shook your head and told him no.
You did not tell him the sweet words he’d said to you, about a future and marriage were engraved in your brain, and your heart.  
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A/N: And that's it!! Once again, I hope you guys have liked it. I am aware that it's short, and I haven't written for Miguel in a while, so I hope he's not too OOC. I need to write for my man some more, I have some nice requests for him, and I still have to continue Royal Secret omg, but my exam period is coming up and I'm getting kinda swarmed with papers and reports and whatnot. Luckily, I'll be able to write more when all of that is over.
I hope y'all have a wonderful day ahead!!!! <3
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pedroslvt · 10 months
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Not a good morning for me, hope yall doing better😭
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pinkhelados · 3 months
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Underneath the cashmere sweaters and oversized hoodies, Miguel was jacked. Something that you didn’t expect from your nerdy, reserved boyfriend. Your cheeks heated. He took off his black t-shirt to reveal rippling arms and a broad, firm chest and- oh his tummy was so soft. That, you expected. “I- Oh wow,” you gasped. Miguel coughed, looking away. “Do you not like it?” You shook your head furiously. Quite the contrary, his burly arms made your panties wet with arousal. You gently grazed his arms, sqeezing his bicep. “I just wasn’t expecting- all this!”
Miguel gave you a crooked grin and pulled you into his chest. “I started a couple months ago,” He placed his chin ontop of your head and you swear your heart soared when his plushy tummy pressed up against yours. You sighed contently, fixing his glasses before kissing his lips. “Mhm.”
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esmedelacroix · 1 month
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All the ways you disappoint me.
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pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader
summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.
cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse
a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.
*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !
miguel masterlist | next part
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Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.
All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.
"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.
"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.
You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.
As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.
"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.
"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.
"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.
"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.
. . .
You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.
Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.
Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.
"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.
"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.
"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.
"About?" he asked urging you to continue.
"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.
"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.
Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.
"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.
"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.
"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.
You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.
"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.
"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?
. . .
That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.
The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.
Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.
The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.
. . .
Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.
You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.
For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.
"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.
"Well you're here," you smiled.
Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.
"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.
"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.
"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.
"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.
"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.
. . .
That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.
. . .
I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.
But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?
That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.
. . .
To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.
After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.
"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.
"No?" he said in a shaky voice.
"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.
You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.
Nothing.
. . .
The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.
For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.
. . .
next part → All the ways I defy you
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inlovewithpandora · 10 months
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- Party Girl -
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Pairing: Protective!Miles!42 x fem!drunk!reader
Request: [ anonymous ] Protective 42 Miles when his girl calls him high or drunk (she's at a party and he didn't know) so he goes to pick her up and some dude is trying to get at her?
Synopsis: When Miles gets a post notification that you posted something on your story he assumes it’s a selfie of you but that idea flies out the window when he sees a bottle of alcohol in your hand.
Content: Aged!up Miles, fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough), established relationship (bf & gf), mention of alcohol/drinking, reader being under the influence
Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it because I’ve been wanting to write drunk!reader for a while. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!
Word Count: 1.1k
Glossary: Princesa - Princess
Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!
Links: Navigation || Atsv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist
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As Miles lays across his bed, closing the text thread with one of his friends, he gets a notification from Instagram saying that you added something to your story. He assumes it’s one of your normal posts, a boomerang of yourself, a picture of you and him, or a daily quote with a song playing, but when he opens your story, it turns out to surprisingly be the complete opposite.
It is a picture of a bottle of Pink Whitney in your hand. His face scrunches up at the sight, wondering why you have a bottle of alcohol. He clicks over to see what else you’ve posted and he’s met with the sight of you pouring the bottle of alcohol into your mouth and his ears are filled with the sound of your friends cheering you on and loud music playing in the background.
To say Miles was baffled would be an understatement. You’ve never been a person who liked to drink or party, you would always rather stay home or invite Miles over so both of you could spend time together, thus to see this side of you, he’s caught him off guard. He immediately goes to your text thread and his fingers begin to rapidly type away.
Watching your friends dance with each other while pouring yourself another drink for the night, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You reach for your phone and check your messages.
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You forgot that you didn’t tell Miles that you were coming to the party since your friends told you about it so last minute. You put your cup down and try to text him back, but you can barely see the words let alone coordinate your fingers properly to type out the sentence you want, so you decide to call him.
Once you press the call button, it only rings one time before you hear Miles' voice. “Princesa, are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you are okay before he starts bombarding you with different questions.
“I’m fine, baby! I’m just-” you hiccup, “having fun!” He can tell that you are drunk by your slurring words and the slowed pace you are talking in. As you try to focus on hearing Miles talking, your attention span plummets and you begin to hype up your friend.
Miles knows the alcohol is coursing through your veins and is making you zone out and he’s trying his best to be patient and keep your focus on him so he could figure out where you are.
“Bae, I need you to focus and tell me-” He starts carefully before you interrupt him. “You know you didn’t tell me hi when you picked up the phone, that’s so rude, Miles. You didn’t say it in your texts either.”
“My fault. Hey, baby. Now can you please tell me where you are?”
“If you say it a little nicer I’ll tell you where I’m at.” You say in a singsong tone which makes Miles groan under his breath and rub his temples. After he says it in a tone you approve of, you finally proceed to tell him the address of the party you’re at.
He immediately gets out of bed, puts his shoes on, grabs his keys, and makes his way out of the door.
“I’m coming to pick you up, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” Miles gets in his car, puts his key in the ignition, and drives to where you are.
All in while you decide to take at least one last shot before he comes and spoils your fun.
When Miles pulls up to the house, he jumps out his car and walks into the party. He looks around but doesn’t locate you which makes him worry. He begins to barge through the crowd of people, trying to find you. His eyes scan the whole room and he doesn’t see you in the front, but he gets to hear your voice.
“I’m so-sorry, but I have a boyfriend that kills people.” You say in a giggly tone with slurred words as you talk to some random guy who has been asking for your number for the past few minutes.
“I don’t care about him, all I want is yo digits.” The guy presses you, pulling out his phone and handing it to you so you could type your number into it.
When Miles sees that his blood boils. He knows that the guy is trying to take advantage of you because you are under the influence. He immediately marches over to where you are and pulls you away from the guy.
“You heard what the fuck she said, she has a boyfriend.” Miles towers over the guy, yelling and pointing at him, making some threats just to make sure his point gets across that you’re taken and that he needs to leave you alone.
When the guy hears the bass in Miles’s voice and watches how his eyes slowly turn pitch black, he stutters out an apology and walks away. You just stand behind Miles, not paying attention or aware of anything that is going on until you feel him gently pull you by your arm.
“Miles! You’re here, I missed you!” You plant millions of messy kisses on his face before throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He is about to ask if you are okay, but by that greeting, he already knows you are totally fine.
“Let’s go home princesa and then you can tell me all about your night.” He grabs your hand and begins to escort you out of the party, but along the way your feet get wobbly due to the heels you're wearing. You let go of his hand and begin to fumble with the strings of your heels so you can take them off. However due to the alcohol, your hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.
Miles notices you struggling, so he decides to pick you up bridal style and walk out. The walking distance between the party to his car is short, but it gives you enough time to fall asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your small snores ringing through his ears.
Once he makes it to the car, he somehow manages to open the door and carefully place you inside without waking you up. He closes the door gently and walks to the driver's side and gets in. When he places the key into the ignition, he looks over at you and thinks about how he can’t get over how adorable you look sleeping. He leans over and kisses your forehead then begins driving to your apartment.
He knows that he is going to have plenty of questions for you in the morning, but for tonight he is going to let you sleep the alcohol out of your system.
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I hope you enjoyed❤️!
Previous Fic
Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon
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Taglist: @toneystank-3000 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @baizzhu @solanawrld @kxllanxtdoor @kxtsxkii @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @naiomiwinchester @number1gal @spidersthetic @taylormarieee @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @khamanix @miguellover6969 @beargracecanbeanyone @strawberryclouds22 @ban-al3x @starsharkz @onginlove @kxllanxtdoor @lorarri
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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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cyberdxll · 10 months
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♡speak to me in your love language~ physical touch ♡
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✧ touch-starved!miles morales x reader
✧ warnings: fluff, cuteness, touchiness, slightly suggestive(?), grammar, not the best spanish
✧ summary: what it’s like to date a touch-starved miles
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✧ ok, first off, miles is clingy but not in an overbearing way
✧ he will always know when it's the right time to be "touchy"
✧ if you need space, he will always respect your boundaries
✧ he wants keep you safe and show you how much you're loved, and his way of doing that is through physical touch
✧ he'll be kinda reserved at the beginning of your relationship but as time passes, he will become more comfortable with physical affection
✧ if you're dating earth!42 miles, you may have to initiate some of the physical affection because he's become pretty closed off since his dad passed away
✧ poor boy needs some love, affection, and comfort
✧ he is always gently grabbing your waist and whenever you talk to him he lifts up your chin so you make eye contact with him (the rizzler?)
✧ when he's playing video games or working on a new suit design, he holds you in his lap
✧ he probably wouldn't be big on PDA, the most he would do is hold your hand but that's if you're in a super crowded place or in a pretty secluded area.
✧ this has probably been said a million times but he sneaks in to your room through your window
✧ if you're mad at him, he'll wrap his arms around softly apologize to you
“lo siento cariño, you know all I want to do is keep you safe."
"muñeca, no quiero que vayas a dormir enojada conmigo.” (I don’t want you going to sleep mad at me)
✧ lots and lots of forehead and cheek kisses
✧ loves kissing you in the corner of your mouth just to mess with you
✧ when he is nervous, he'll look stone-cold in the face
✧ but he when he grabs your hand, you feel it shaking TT
✧ overall miles would be a really loving boyfriend and you will never doubt his love for you <3
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risingoftime · 1 year
Text
A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN
Hobie hadn’t realized that he butt-dialled your number while fantasizing about how it would feel to fuck you. In the midst of it all, he realizes that he might have an audience.
a/n: cause i can’t get him out of my head₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ 18+
part i | part ii
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Hobie’s life had been in a constant state of unrest. If he wasn't fulfilling his duties as Spiderman, he was practicing and performing with his band Spider-Slayers. It had been a late night, and the only thing that brought him to peace was you. He found himself thinking about you more than he would like to admit. He had tried his best to keep his distance, knowing all too well what happens when people get entangled with him. But Hobie couldn't stop envisioning your sultry voice and soft lips. He wondered how your perfect frame would look bent over, pussy exposed all for him. Hobie was curious about how you would sound while getting fucked, if you moaned or whimpered when cumming and if he could make you do both. Shifting in his bed, Hobie became increasingly aware of his growing erection.
His dick throbbed at the thought of you and was already hard in his boxers. Hobie had never felt a desire as strong as he had for you. His hand releases his boner from the constricting fabric, already sensitive with need. Hobie wrapped his hand around his dick, pumping himself vigorously at the thought of fucking you. His precum acts as a lubricant while he imagines how your pussy would feel taking him in. Oh, the things that he would do. Hobie’s hips made languid movements, keeping pace with each thrust into his hand.
“Oh fucking hell, you feel so good.” His lips remained parted, letting out a breathy moan. Hobie visualized his cock deep inside you, your pussy taking it all too well and milking every last drop of Hobie’s cum. “Just like that,” he gasped. His toes began to curl from the image of your eyes rolling back and begging him not to stop. You're so beautiful it pains him to slow his palms from bobbing up and down his thick length.
Hobie’s hips begin to stutter, and his core tightens as he grows closer to orgasm. His free hand grips the sheets as Hobie’s body tenses at the tingling feeling that erupts. Opening his eyes slightly, Hobie watches as his dick jerks with each cum shot, soiling his boxers and rubbing the creamy white liquid against his skin. The noises from the friction between his hand and dick make wet slapping sounds. Hobie’s breath hitched as his body trembled at the mercy of the thought of cumming inside of you.
Once he could get ahold of himself, he washed his hands and cleaned the mess he had made. Hobie hadn’t realized how slowly time has passed when fantasizing about you. Looking around his room briefly, he could not locate his phone. He heard a lewd voice coming out from the sheets on his bed. Throwing the fabric around, Hobie found his phone had called your number by mistake. Your heavy sighs and whimpers ricochet through the phone speakers like a sweet melody to Hobie. It was evident what you were doing on the other side of the call. His dick was already pulsating and hardening. Unable to remain quiet for long, Hobie cleared his throat.
“Hello, love.”
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madschiavelique · 11 months
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hear me out, miguel letting a bunch of ‘i love yous’ while he’s fucking you? especially while he’s close, him just being like ‘iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou’ does something to me…
ANON I'M SCREAMING THIS IS SO SWEET i felt way too poetic and had to write smth like come on
this man just worships you, every curve of your body, every inch of your skin, and every discovered or unexplored meander of your personality
he'll never tire of your smile, your eyes, the way your body welcomes his hands
the mere thought that you love him makes him less miserable, almost to the point where he feels blessed. What has he done in a previous life to deserve you?
He kisses your forehead to thank it for carrying all your ideas He kisses your cheeks and lips to thank them for making you smile He kisses your neck to thank it for making your voice bloom He kisses your shoulders to thank them for being so gracefully illuminated by the sun He kisses your hands to thank them for speaking and expressing when your mouth can't He kisses your chest to thank it for carrying your heart He kisses your soul to thank it for existing
But he needs more than just thanking you. He would offer you pearls of rain from countries where it never does, he would dig the earth until after his death to cover your body in gold and light. What would he be without you than this hour stopped on the watch face, what would he be without you than this stammering.
"I love you," he whispers against your ear as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, his pelvis touching your thighs as your lips let out the most beautiful sounds that music has ever created.
What would he be without you but a sleeping heart? You took him by the hand in this modern hell where the man no longer knows what it is to be two.
"I love you," he murmurs as he kisses your cheek, inhaling the scent of your skin until he's intoxicated and the sensation never leaves his memory.
Those who speak of happiness often have sad eyes. Isn't that a sob of disappointment? He felt like a broken string in the guitarist's fingers and yet he now says that happiness exists elsewhere than in dreams, elsewhere than in the clouds, elsewhere than imagination.
"I love you," he breathes as he kisses your lips and you give him the gift of pleasure, as you make him feel the perfect pairing of sentiment and carnal desire.
He's waiting for the universe to shrink down to your hearts, to be safe from the wicked and the mad, waiting for your moments to drag on for hours and for the thread of time to wrap itself around you.
Prepare some of your time, because for you he has all of his.
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