Here's a list of all the things I've written so far, or currently in progress!
Note: Certain fics will be exclusively on Ao3 and vice versa.
Here is my Ao3 Account ♡
More under the cut~
♡ = Fluff
♧ = Angst/Drama
☆ = Smut
◇ = Romance
○ = General
Longfics
♡ ♧Tales the Songs Weave☆◇ (completed)
Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a leader. A leader who doesn't let anyone or anything distract him from the tasks at hand.
He's focused, unwavering, and ruthless.
But what happens when he abruptly pulls away from his territory and wanders into an unknown playing field he hasn't faced in forever?
Many say love holds no bounds, but how much will he be willing to break for you?
Shortfics
♡♧Of Ribbons and Love○
Summary: All she wants is a Pokémon, and Miguel is a bit on edge about that. Yet, when they stumble upon a hurt Eevee out in the rain, one simply can't turn their back on an innocent creature.
So with that, Miguel and Gabi takes matter into their own hands.
☆A Night to Prove All☆
Summary: Miguel O'Hara has been watching you from across the way. He's curious about you.
He wants to know more about you.
He wants to show you that a certain act will lead to something more.
☆It's Our Paradise, and it's Our Warzone☆
Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.
♡Tickets for Two☆ (completed)
Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has its quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not exactly the worst.
Well... There is one thing that keeps you staying at the job: the huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.
Fun Drabbles
☆Spiders are freaky deviants☆
☆Whoops☆
Note: I'm not as active on Tumblr. Ao3 is my go to, so I'll mostly be posted up there. But I will post things if I conjure up anything up in this brain ♡
Hello there, I'm going to do a plug in on the sequel to my first longfic TtSW (Tales the Songs Weave), called Lies the Webs Wove. The title is a bit different, but it's following a theme in a sense, haha.
If you read the first part, and you're interested in reading the second, I'll drop the link below. The warnings will be in the tags and I'll give the Spotify Playlist if you'll like to see the songs inspired for this part.
Lies the Webs Wove (in progress)
The Spotify Playlist
Thank you so much, and thank you for everyone you read the my first longfic, it means a lot, and I really do appreciate it 💜💜
Summary: Miguel needs to let out some frustrations due to work.
A/N: Dominant Miguel is back for a limited time only! Hope you all enjoy!
Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next
Kinktober '24 Masterlist
“Can you believe we've been trying to catch this single anomaly for this entire week?”
Miguel’s ranting in your ear, his voice laced with stress from dealing with Spider Society.
“Has it really been a whole week?”
“Yes. And it’s like no one can do anything right around here.”
You hum, “Just give it time, love. Don't work yourself up over one person.”
Miguel growls through the phone, and you remain quiet to let him cool down. At least he wasn't throwing things around out of anger. He was resorting to other outlets to calm down, like calling you.
“I need you tonight.”
“Okay. You know I'm here.”
“No, I mean, I need you.”
“Oh.” Your back straightens up, and you try not to sound flustered throughout the call. “Okay.”
“Get ready for me.”
Once the call disconnected, you immediately got up. Eating dinner, taking a thorough shower, and slipping on something sexy that Miguel liked.
The first time you two started doing this, you recalled your heartbeat in your ears whenever you got nervous. Now, it was just a regular night—where your boyfriend took out his pent-up feelings on you.
Your stomach fluttered when Miguel came to your apartment. It was late. You two always did this late. Heavy footsteps filled the hall when he entered your room, seeing you waiting just like he asked.
Miguel’s breath hitched seeing your outfit. A sheer, red baby doll lingerie. How well it will compliment when you're bound to his webs.
“You know the drill.”
You turn around, hands behind your back. His webs keep them tied. As a test, you try to pull them to make sure they are tight enough, and with restraint, you are satisfied.
Miguel facing you now, cradling your chin and inspecting your face. Your full lashes and pretty lips. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”
“You said it to me this morning…”
He gives a soft chuckle before capturing your lips in a short kiss. One that, even though it was brief, left you wanting more, sending heat to your core.
“You know the safe word.”
You nod, and the simple pleasantries are over.
In a blink, you're on the ceiling. Webs sticking onto your back and ankles. Legs spread apart for your boyfriend. Miguel climbs up to the ceiling on all fours, doing his best not to damage the walls more than he already has. You were the prey, unable to move as the giant spider was ready to devour his meal.
Carefully he maneuvered over you, sniffing to take in your arousal. Miguel observes the way your breasts are pushed up against the lingerie. Your attire hardly left anything to the imagination, the fabric draping across you like a fairy.
“Muñeca bonita (Pretty doll)…”
He roughly kissed you, dominating your mouth and taking over anything that tried to escape your lips. His hot hands go under the sheer to feel your bare skin. Caressing your sides. His lips felt like fire, making an imprint on you as he kissed your neck and then the tops of your breasts, before licking between them as if he was starved.
You whined when Miguel pulled down the cups to your baby doll and latched on to your breasts—sucking on them while he grinds his erection right along your clothed sex. You wish your hands weren't tied so you could run your fingers across those gorgeous locks. Have a firm grip and pull on his hair the way he likes. The most you could do was moan and tell him how good it felt.
“Ohhh I like that…” You gasp when he latches on to your other breast. Cool air breezes against your sex, and you know you've become embarrassingly wet. Between the increased anticipation of waiting for your superhero boyfriend to get home and his actions, you were already ready for him.
With a talon, he tears your panties in half. Miguel’s dick is hard against your thigh as he cups your ass with his hand.
“You better hold still.”
“I will-ooh!”
He enters you swiftly, not even giving you room to adjust. Your body quivers as he’s fucking you, sliding in and out of your cunt with no issues. A palm on the fat of your thigh, talons peeking out and going against your skin.
God, you wished he would break the rules and let you out just once. So you could hold on to him as he makes love to you on the ceiling of your apartment. Probably disturb the next-door neighbors.
“Mm you're so good…” He grunts, burying his face in your neck, taking in your scent. “You listen to me. You don't talk back…”
You shake your head, tugging on your restraints as his cock is sliding along your walls. Miguel continues that same relentless pace as his balls smack against the curve of your ass.
“You'd do anything for me, won't you? Since I have you all tied up like this.”
“I will. Oh yeah I will…”
Your climax starts rising, and you try creating more friction by squeezing your thighs together. Miguel didn’t let you, breaking the restraints on your legs and spreading you wider, tying your ankles back down with his webbing. His pinch to your clit was the last straw, your entire body jolting against him and his webs.
Even as you orgasmed, Miguel held you down, working through your climax and building up to his. Eyes laser-focused on your chest jiggling during each thrust, your face dazed as you revel in bliss. His sounds of pleasure fill your ears.
“S-Shock, you're so-”
With a strangled groan, he came, muscles tense as he filled you up with cum. His thrusts are slower now as he kissed your forehead, fixing your lingerie as much as he could.
You nuzzled along his neck, covering it in small kisses.
Synopsis: Miguel is working late on his birthday, leaving you needy and you can't resist getting started without him. Words: 859
CW: MINORS DNI, x Fem!reader, Miguel wears glasses(had the dadbod version of him in mind tbh). Masturbation ,Mention of breeding, fantasizing, just smutty in general lol
A/N: Happy Birthday to our Migs!!🎂 idk if I still got it tbh but this was in my drafts for a sec so I cleaned it up a bit and here ya go. Idk if it's good but I couldn't not do anything for his bday! 😭😭 @melpomenes-garden thought of you on this one ;)
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR FLUFFTOBER🎃 (don't worry, I'm cooking on my pending requests, I have 5 to write, I promise I see it💕)
Of all nights for Miguel to be working late, his birthday certainly was particularly inconvenient for you.
A burnt out candle that lingered in the air of toasted marshmallow pumpkin, gathering clouds outside your window that threatened to drizzle more raindrops onto the October city line of Nueva York.
Leftovers that were boxed up hours ago in the fridge had lost their freshness. They didn't taste the same without your boyfriend eating with you.
A chocolate cake and half drunk glass of Cabernet that was working its bitter rich magic and traveling swiftly to your neglected pussy.
A finger stained with melted frosting, you allow the tip of your tongue to swirl around it, closing your eyes and imagining for just a moment that it's Miguel.
Fffuck, Miguel...
No thoughts, only thoughts of Miguel.
Miguel.
Thoughts of his body...
You really should wait for him to get home so you can celebrate properly together but the desire is one step ahead of you, led hopelessly by the wine.
His arms...his thick forearms with dark hair. Imagining the soft pads of your fingertips running all along them memorizing the pattern, feeling his veins, feeling his strength enveloping you, encased underneath his scorching skin. Him tugging you closer to him as he laid you on your back.
This fine, strong man handling you and holding you down like you were his toy.
Imagining his weight on top of you now, trying to picture that he was using his fingers instead of your own, aching to recall his delicious scent and that masculine musk, imagining the shape of the shadow of the outline of his naked body, those shoulder muscles rippling as he holds and cages you under him.
His plump, juicy lips and the way they felt as they trailed down your neck, feather light and dancing across the pattern of your skin, as though he was trying to burn their impression onto your body from his touch alone.
Those thick fingers of his, calloused and rough yet handling you so delicately as they roamed your body in a loving search until they landed and magnetized to the treasure of your clit, his mouth falling open as he rubbed the aching bud in circles, endless mantra softly pleading with you to cum for him until you were quivering.
His hands pressing into your palms as he'd pin them into the mattress, squeezing them tenderly as he gave you every inch of his cock, over and over again, even lightly gripping your chin, his thumb slipping over your bottom lip as he made you watch his wet cock slide torturously in and out, bathed in thickening slick with each steady thrust.
The way those delectable brown eyes of his utterly melted into yours, deep like the mocha you drank every morning, oozing with a lust only you could awaken.
Maybe even imagining he'd keep those narrow frame glasses of his on as he fucked you. Imagining them sliding down his nose as he looked up at you skillfully, slowly circulating your hips, keeping his cock nice and warm within you. This enormous man whimpering and trembling underneath you as you slid up and down and grinded your clit against the thick veins of his ample length.
Imagining his face dizzy red and delirious with passion as he gripped your ass cheeks, letting gravity do the work as he held you up then let you slap against the base of his cock with the sloppiest plap. The cream oozing out of you adding to the pooling juices of his love mixed with yours he was already planning on making you clean off of his fingers while he pounded you from the back later on.
You feel your body quake under the overwhelming snap of pleasure that manifested in more wetness seeping out of you and onto the silken sheets. The apex of arousal rendered you numb as you imagine listening to Miguel softly panting above you, his happy trail smeared in glossy strings of cum.
You hum peacefully, sleep already descending rapidly upon you, but a voice yanks you promptly out of it.
"Started without me?"
"Miguel!"
Your face heats deeply, but you bite your lip, concentrating on his voice, the way it seduces and settles you, the way it drips so beautifully. The baritone awakening the latent heat settling between your thighs. Not bothering to close your legs, gifting him his first present of many tonight with your shiny, glistening cunt.
"No te preocupes, definitely not complaining about what I'm looking at right now..." He whispers before he captures your lips in a soft kiss that quickly escalates into something heated and sloppy. "Though so impatient..."
He pulls back momentarily to breathe, his sharp jaw completely slack that weakly curled into a smug look of satisfaction, eyes darkened as he gripped your thighs before flipping you on your stomach.
"Happy Birthday to me..." He mutters before his thick tongue teases then flattens against your soaked folds, burying into your ass as you softly whine.
"Gonna give me at least two more before I make you a mommy tonight, right baby?"
Here is part 2, happy birthday to the giant spider!
Also, thank you @slushycoookie for being my beta reader for this part. You are truly the alpha cookie.
Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.
Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.
The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.
CW: 18+, Oral (both receiving and giving), light teasing, semi public sex (it'll just be you two, so I guess it'll be semi), you both are perverts... just slightly
Word count: 2.7k
“It always feels weird not to be the one behind there.” You eyed the menu, debating if you should have a small or medium popcorn.
“It's nice seeing you here and not working.” Miguel shoved his hands in his pocket, already knowing what to get himself. “Figure out what size you want?”
“Yeah, I'll get a small. And are you saying that because you get to be handsy and not solicit around my area?”
“Maybe.” Miguel grunted and moved closer to the counter to place his order.
“I'm still surprised they haven't banned you yet.” You greeted your coworker and asked for a drink alongside your buttery treat.
“I merely want to be near my partner. I don't see anything wrong with that. Besides, I'm not spooking any other patrons, so there's no problem.”
“Then what about the guy who—”
“That time doesn't count. That idiot shouldn't have been raising hell for getting mad when you accidentally tapped the wrong size. You caught your mistake and apologized, and yet he still had the nerve to be a shocking idiot at that point.”
“Miggy, you forcefully threw him out. The employees and customers swore you were security after that, especially with how much you hung around the counter beforehand.” You nudged his arm before reaching for your card.
“And?” He stared at the transaction, concluding he was going to pay you back.
“At this point, I believe you are the only one who supports the concession stand after dark.” You hauled nearly all of the items in your arms, trying not to tip over.
“Si mantiene alejados a los imbéciles, que así sea.” He mumbled and balanced you out by taking some of the snacks. “Now come on, let's go watch this film.”
“Movie date, commence!” You skipped ahead, making Miguel smirk.
You tended to stray away from movie dates, especially considering your employment in the building, but you decided to join Miguel for this night. You might even enjoy the thrill and peace of experiencing a vacant showroom. To be the consumer indeed of the provider.
You made your way to your chosen seats, near the back, and got comfy. The lights dimmed, and you glued your eyes to the screen. It showed two new movies coming out, but didn't capture your attention. Then the trailer for the next future showing was coming to an end when you noticed nobody else was heading in.
A whole theater between you two. An accidental private screening, one could call it.
“Is this how it is when you come in here?”
Miguel plopped a gummy in his mouth and shrugged. “About. It is nice to have a theater to myself. It gives me time to think.”
“What do you usually think about when you're here?”
“Work.” He stole a sip of your drink. “And you occasionally.”
You didn't get the chance to react when the lights dimmed and the feature film started up. He didn't turn to you; his eyes focused on the screen, so you decided to munch on your popcorn and get comfortable.
And you did get comfortable because the movie they chose to show was mind-numbingly boring. You didn't know what was going on or if anything was going on. By the thirty-five minute mark, you had devoured most of your popcorn, and your drink was heavily watered down. You felt yourself dozing off; the room became darker than before when Miguel nudged you awake.
“You okay?”
“I'm up!” You twisted your head up to him. “Is this movie over?”
“Close. We got,” he checked his watch. “Approximately an hour and forty-five minutes left. Excluding credits.”
You groaned out and banged your head on the back of the chair. You thought of the many possible options. You could suck it up and finish the mind-numbing film, or you could get up and leave, draining the funds you spent. Your brain circled and circled when an idea struck.
“We can do a certain indecency when a couple is in an empty theater roo-”
“Front cameras.” He subtly gestured to where they could be placed.
“Shock. That's right.” You slumped more of your drink down. So much for a fun night.
Miguel drummed his finger on the armrest before standing up. “I'll be back in five.”
“Going to the restrooms?”
“Something along those lines.”
You watched him stand up and crack his neck to the left and right. He didn't say much as he strode down the steps and disappeared behind the barrier separating the seats from the theater room's door. Your eyes lazily went towards the screen. More nonsense about the car robots and exposition; you could've sworn that the film was going to be about medieval times. Or was it going to be about a war? You decided it was best not to question the direction of the movie.
Stealing some of his lukewarm coffee to give you somewhat of an energy boost, Miguel finally returned from wherever. He parked himself right back in his seat and turned to you.
There was a hint of confidence in his eyes. Uncertain by the new attitude, you cocked your head, intrigued by what he did out there.
“Miguel? Where did you go?”
Not missing a beat, he pulled the armrest up and placed you on his lap. Something was poking you and nudging the backside of your thigh. Masquerading an ignorant state, your fingers casually brushed along the outline, fascinated by the peculiar object.
Miguel grunted at the attentive focus, shifting in his seat and rubbing against the fabric of your pants. He was glad the bottoms he was wearing were slightly thinner.
“I don't think the movie is causing you to react this way; is it now?” A cheeky grin crept on your lips as you sneakily grinded.
“I'm taking your idea into consideration.” He grunted and squirmed, relieving any pressure that roused up.
You turned your torso and peered down to undo his belt buckle. “The cameras?”
“Right now, they're seeing two people watching the film, bored out of their minds.” His gaze was not leaving your fingers.
“But wouldn't they realize it's a still image?” You stopped unbuttoning his pants. “Miguel, did you hack my job's security cams?”
“Hack is a strong word, cariño.”
You gave him a look and crossed your arms. “Did you hack?”
“I'm able to recreate realistic simulations. I know how to fake a moviegoer experience.” He took your hands and kissed them, knowing your disapproving glare wasn't going to leave. “So yes, I did hack your job's cameras. Más o menos. But only for this area.”
“Miguel, make sure you fix them back.”
“I will. Lo prometo.”
“You better, or else.”
“Or else what, amor?” He was prepared to accept what you were going to throw.
“Or else, I'll be forced to teach you a lesson.” You palmed the hardened erection, massaging it and enjoying the damp stains leaking through.
A low rumble expelled from his chest as pricking goosebumps and the flaming ignition coasted within you. Your eyes locked with his mesmeric ones, passion lighting up the darkness of the room. You took each other in, admiring one another's features more than the feature on the big screen. The only good thing about it was you were able to pick out his sharpness and gorgeousness.
You wrapped an arm around his neck and closed the gap, tasting the snacks on his lips. The buttery popcorn, the sugary fruit from the gummies, and the bitterness from the coffee create a delicious concoction melting onto your tongue as you twist it around his, needing to taste it all.
Soft moans trickle from you two when a husky one leaves Miguel. You don't pull away, playing coy. The raw guttural sounds become more like a beautiful song you will never get tired of hearing. You squeeze and knead the bulge, getting the reactions that make you giddy. His hands glide down your backside, pinching your behind or your inner and outer thighs.
“I don't think we should waste any time. Don't know when an unexpected viewer will show up.” You cheese and nip at his cheek.
Moving off his lap, you slip back over to your seat, cozying yourself on your knees. You pushed the searing need between your thighs in the back of your head; right now, you want all your concentration on Miguel.
Helping him get out of those uncomfortable bottoms, you licked your lips at the pulsating tent before freeing him completely.
“This is way more interesting.” You thumbed at his glossy tip, loving how he looked when he threw his head back, biting his bottom lip.
Enthralling, a gorgeous frame that any camera can pick up on. It would only enhance his beauty further. He is certainly better than any film.
Done with keeping him anticipating your full touch, you scoot closer, grasping the sensitive shaft, pumping in a slow motion, letting his self-lubrication mess up your hand. You sucked at his neck, wanting to leave a fresh mark. It got a few grunts out of him, but you needed more.
Leading up to his ear, you glazed your tongue over the outer shell and carefully nipped at it.
“I thought we couldn't—joder—I thought we couldn't waste any time, cariño? Joder, qué bueno.” There was some smugness in his tone. He was trying to save face when you pushed his cock towards his stomach.
“You know what? You are so right. The movie can end at any moment, so I really shouldn't waste any time.” You threw the smugness back with a hint of sarcasm. “Here, let me speed this along for real now.”
“Ah, no, it's fine; you can take your time. I was only—oh mierda, cariño, joder, espera, más despacio!”
You dipped down and immediately engulfed half of him. Your mouth built up enough spit to help make this easier. You always struggled to fit him all the way in. A blessing and curse with what he was endowed with. Dribbles of spit fall onto his trimmed hairs, your muffled moans giving vibrations, making him almost lose a fit.
He pushes your head down, biting his on his bottom lip until he tastes a bit of metallic. Your tongue made delicious laps, noisily slobbering, thankful that the film was drowning it out.
He was holding back, the croaks and the whines in his chest fully prominent when you cupped his balls, fondling them with the utmost care. You curl your tongue, going down more until you could feel him touch the back of your throat. He was a mess at your attempts. You would come up to go back down, and when it wasn't enough for you, you would start the process over from the head until you got it.
“Amor, I'm not going to last if you keep that up.”
A disgruntled, muddled hum resonated at the back of your throat. You were now very determined to take him all. Securing your hands on his thighs, you opened your throat, relaxing your body. You stretched your tongue, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You were almost there, so tantalizingly close, when a hoarse low shout of your name was called out, and your face was suddenly closer to Miguel's pelvis.
He erupted in your mouth, the salty strands cascading, hitting your throat, and running along the sides of your chin. He kept you there when nothing left to give and hauled you up.
“Shock, Miguel.” You gasped out. “I will perfect—” you swallowed any lingering residue and took a long breath. “I will perfect me taking all of you. That was a lot, are you okay? That was intense.”
When you didn't get a response, you started to worry when you were met with bright blood-red eyes piercing yours. You shuddered. Miguel can be intimidating, but it brings that awakening out of you.
“Miggy?”
“You always know how to make my head explode, cariño.”
He stood up and fixed himself. You could only watch, dazed at what he was doing when he kneeled before you. You gulped as he fingered the button on your pants.
“But this movie date is supposed to be an enjoyable time for both.” He starts to pull your jeans down along with your underwear. “Así que te voy a dar algo bueno que ver.” He murmured along your thigh, pressing a soft kiss to it. That fiery flicker burning into you.
You gulped and tugged at the collar of your shirt. “He-hey, about what I said about wasting time, you know I was teasing—oh, shock!”
Miguel wasted no time diving right in, letting you feel the high satisfaction and pleasure you bring—and brought—to him.
You struggled to choke back your moans, covering your hands to the point your fingers were squashing your cheeks. His tongue twirls achingly slow, teasing you simply because he can. Because he's acutely aware that you can't get too loud to draw anyone to you both. That annoying, sexy, mischievous glint in his eyes, saying, ‘You wouldn't want us to get caught now, now do you?’
God, he is such a smug bastard, and you can't stand that you love it.
He massaged the tension from hips and thighs, not caring about the crick in his neck or the slightly sticky floor; his only goal was to make sure not to miss a single part of your heat.
Every stroke and every round he made was bliss that was driving you mad. His fingertips glided against your thighs, stroking the soft skin and pinching the inner part to make you squeak. He refused to break any contact with you, the suction so heavy that you swore your soul was going to ascend right out of the theater.
“Miguel.” You purred out, combing his luscious hair, relishing the glorious moment.
He was ready for you to come apart.
His tongue dragged down in an unpredictable pattern, making your hips buck. He let a breathy “humph” out and grasped your waist, a heed to get you to stop moving.
Your head spun, and your body quivered. You were close, so very close.
He must have known as he sped up, his tongue making moves you didn't think he even possessed, his mouth slurping you whole. The room was fuzzy; your brain could have been a pile of goop by the end of this, and you wouldn't even be mildly upset, not even the slightest.
“Miggy, I- I'm-”
A silent cry parted between your lips, pushing Miguel's head down as your release shook you whole. Your mess was stained on his lopsided grin, and that was enough to make you want him again.
You felt hot and cold, the sweat clinging to your forehead greatly helped you cool off, but you weren't quite calm. He cleaned himself off, double-checking to see if you had any questionable fluids on your clothes or your face. The film was still going, and you couldn't tell if it was the middle or third act.
“Did it make it to the climax?” You heaved out.
“I think we both just saw that.” Miguel smirked.
You squeezed your lips together and released a waft from your nose. “Do you want to continue this at my place?”
“The film?”
“No. This movie isn't good. We could do better. Hell, I believe we can make a better one.” Your eyes drifted to his, and you could already see the hunger growing back.
He took hold of your hand and stood you up. It startled you, but you shook it off and trailed behind when it clocked on you.
“What about the cameras?” You stammered.
“It'll revert itself back when we step out of this room. I put a sensor that'll detect when we leave.”
You trusted his word but resisted asking him how he had messed with the security later on. Right now, you were both overcome with anticipation when you rushed out of the doors, thankful for how devoid the building was.
Even if the movie didn't satisfy you, it might have become your new favorite. If mindless films like that bring you that sort of experience, then you will gladly watch them with him.
A drabble appeared in my head because why the heck not. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Nothing too fancy, just 246 words under the cut. Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader, you know how it goes.
CW: 18+, fingering, overstimulation, not beta read
Have fun~
“Miguel, when can I stop?” You whined out, your fingernails digging into his suit.
“When I'm finished with these reports, nena.” Miguel casually swiped through his device, reading today's work from the other spiders. “Besides, cariño, this is what you wanted.”
For the past fifteen minutes, you were riding Miguel's fingers non-stop. You felt a strong urge in your stomach and didn't want to impose on him, but that pit grew and grew until you couldn't take it anymore. You practically pleaded with him to help out with your problem, that he wouldn't even have to stop what he was doing, and that you could take care of everything.
So now here you are, your body turned away from him, sitting on his thigh with his index and pointer buried deep in you. Your juices were leaking onto the fabric, and your sweat dripped down.
“How much longer?” A gasp escaped when he curled his fingers to get that right spot.
“Hm. I thought I was done, but three more reports came in. Guess you'll have to keep going, nena.” He nonchalantly said and continued to read.
Your walls clung around him when another orgasm found its way out. You started to slow down when Miguel wiggled his fingers and grunted.
“I said three more reports. Keep going.”
You sobbed out as you started back up. This was the best, and worst, request you could've asked for.
This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.
Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.
Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.
The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.
CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.
Word count: 1.7k
There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.
It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons.
It was him.
Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.
Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.
He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.
You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.
He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two.
So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”
He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.
There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.
You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.
His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.
Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”
“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”
Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”
Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.
Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.
The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”
His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?
“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”
“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.”
“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”
“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.
Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag.
“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”
“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.
“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.
“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”
You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.
The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer.
It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit.
You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.
And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon.
You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.
“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”
Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”
“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.”
“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”
“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly.
“Sí. A bit of a bias though.”
“A bias?”
“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.
“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.
Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.
“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”
“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.
You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up.
“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”
“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.
“Miguel?”
“Do you have a pen?”
“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left.
You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming.
Miguel meets you, for obvious reasons you can’t resist him. He’s sexy, smart, charmingly catty and unfunny in a cute way. No shit you’re in love, you two go on a couple dates but he’s oddly distant and you don’t know why.
He clearly feels the same but he’s holding back. Soon when you get tired of waiting for him. So you start seeing other guys, but they aren’t him. You’re consumed by longing, no other man can compare (how could they).
Miguel finally calls you back after a week. He says he’s sorry for blowing you off, and he’s ready to commit. Saying,
“I love you Gwen Stacey”
…..and years later that decision will come to haunt him hahahahahha hahah HAHAHAHAHAH
Only if you’re a willing and not a coward
😈😈😈
Never back down never whaaaat!!! 😈 Lol anyways here ya go moot, this one's for you. 🖤🖤 All hail your amazing brain for this idea! So beautifully angsty. Happy Angstober! 🎃 @miguel-ohara-wifey
would've been you 🍂
CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, READER IS MIGUEL'S VERSION OF GWEN STACY(READER IS NOT GWEN, AND obviously NOT ATSV), CANON DIVERGENCE, ANGST, NO HAPPY ENDING, DEATH, BLOOD, BREAKUP, RELATIONSHIP DIFFICULTY, NON GRAPHIC SMUT.
WORDS: 1.7K
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
Crimson. Not red. Not scarlet. Not cherry, but crimson. Crimson in particular.
Crimson. Beautiful, deep crimson. Alluring, so calmly bewitching. Like the pleasant feeling that attacked every nerve in your body that rendered you with the consistency of a cloud after downing a glass of wine. Getting lost in the eyes of the lover who smiled from across the rim. The softest moan leaving your lips as you sat at the edge of his bed and felt the chill of the tension of the heated room spring goosebumps all over your naked body he was slowly undressing, laying you backwards on those silk sheets, thighs opening as his hands trailed fire and scored themselves to undying memory on the shadow of your skin.
His eyes...
You stare at Miguel from across you at a restaurant, your lingering gaze he senses without even needing to meet it with his own. He simply brings his hand above the table, giving yours a tender squeeze as you peruse the menu.
You realized then you might have been in love with him.
Your story was simple, transpiring like most any other couples who meet and wind up luckily in love. The outward beauty he possessed was increasingly obvious, but his deadpan demeanor and unserious quips were what endeared himself even more to you.
And he could only stand there in shocked disbelief. Almost like you were a stray cat that clung to an owner you selected by chance who originally thought himself incapable of returning such warmness.
The hell you saw in a sad old man like him? He didn't understand it, but he couldn't help but welcome it. Your cheesy grin, the playful banter you met with his sarcastic remarks.
"What are you making us for dinner?" You'd ask.
"God, I don't know babe..." Miguel's fingers comb through his tousled locks of dark brown as he looked at the pitiful items in your sparce pantry.
"Tomato reduction with melted mozzarella and cured meat, warmed in a flaky pastry?" You ask from the open freezer.
"The shock?" He looks at you, quickly overshadowed by unamusement, however he still holds back a chuckle. "Hot Pockets?"
"The highest level of cuisine!" You toss the box back onto the shelf, "The way they come out of the microwave like Satan's taint around the edges yet Antarctica in the middle reallyyy sets them apart."
"How else?" He smirks.
"Just the way I like it." You hum as you dial the number for your favorite takeout place, not noticing the ache in his chest as he looked back at you.
Even Miguel O'Hara wasn't immune to the temptation that came with breaking his own rules.
The daughter of a police chief.
Why, oh why, did it have to be you?
Rules he watched bitterly as his own colleagues suffered countless times before, seemingly unfazed by their agony, almost a little sadistic as they cried for their dead loved ones. It was all a part of the plan. The unpleasant truth.
You don't become Spider-Man by just putting on a suit.
Feelings must take a backseat when the security of the multiverse, the entire foundation of the very fabric of millions of innocent lives were at stake.
And how that foreign pain never quite made itself so painfully understood to him until it just so devastatingly involved the soul he fell so deeply and hopelessly in love with.
And so, like with many of his dealings before, he left you high and dry. Protective measures he took like muscle memory.
He would hurt you first before you could ever think about hurting him.
Even if the heartbreak was by grand design. The fabric of the multiverse knitted permanently with the inevitable tragedy of your demise that could not be undone.
"We can't.....we can't do this." He said simply before he left you like a ghost in the rain, turning away before you could see the tears that threatened to escape. Cursing his name.
Run away, numb himself, just bottle it up like he always does when he's confronted with matters of the heart that even toyed with the idea of showing his belly. His vulnerability. His weak spot. Calls unanswered. A number out of service.
He was never here and you never awakened the latent stirrings in his heart that just so ached for warm connection that you fulfilled at last.
You cried. You cried a lot. Sobbed for his presence that left you with a hole in your chest. Who would you gripe about work to? Who would hear your ugly laugh besides him and find every part of you that you thought wasn't worth writing home about, to be the endless rumination that haunted his mind?
Nobody but him. Nobody like him anywhere. And so you trudged forward with your weary and flayed heart, trying to act like the gaping hole he left in it didn't make your lungs feel like they were full of water every time you breathed.
Selfishly, spitefully trying to find a replacement in the arms of strangers. Hell, even some of them you knew. Ben Reilly. Peter B. Parker. His coworkers, his friends, even.
He ruined your life and trampled your heart so you'd smite him back where it really hurts. That's right. You'd go so low as fucking Ben Reilly and Peter Parker.
---
"Fuck, baby...did he ever fuck you like this?"
"No..." You moan loudly, knowing damn well every time you closed your eyes you only saw the persistent layer of the damned red of his eyes.
Peter's cock wasn't as girthy as Miguel's, but the length was close enough that if he fucked you deeply at just the right angle, it could spur vivid memories of all those nights, all those times Miguel O'Hara made love to you, fucked you senseless.
You moan and sigh, touching yourself, loving the way this new man below you was putty in your hands while you put on a show. His lustful gaze for a moment you mistake for the feeling of being desired, being loved. For now, you figure, it's enough.
But Peter couldn't fix it. Neither could Ben.
Fucking Ben.
That one really stabbed Miguel in the heart. Sinking so low that you'd give your body to a man who was nothing like him. Somebody he thought was below him. Somebody you knew damn well he disliked, and well, you gave over the most intimate parts of you he so foolishly thought you reserved for himself.
He felt sick when he overheard him talking about it. How you moaned his name, whined so sweetly for him. How he ate you out. How he bent you over in the very bed you and him shared just weeks prior.
A dull knife in his heart when he found out you even fell asleep together.
Did he make your toes curl like he could? Did he make you cum? Did gracing the peaks of ecstasy with Ben feel anything like how it felt when you were with Miguel?
Did those 7 goddamn months even fucking matter to you at all?
----
Miguel calls you black out drunk,
"Ben....fucking Ben...how COULD you?!"
The shade of bleeding red he saw put the intensity of the natural crimson of his eyes to shame.
You stayed silent. You got exactly what you wanted. The deadly blow had its intended effect. But it didn't feel as gratifying as you thought it would. It made you feel worse. Even as he was yelling over the phone.
"How was he then? Is he as good as me? Did you think about me while he was fucking you? Did you even have the heart to take down our pictures together before you invited his slimy ass over?"
Your chin trembles and Miguel stops when he finally hears you cry.
And despite everything, he would take you back in a heartbeat.
"Who's gonna be there to listen to me complain about work every day, huh?" Miguel sobs. "Who... who's gonna remind me to take out my contacts? H-How am I supposed to finish that fucking show we were watching together....?" He pauses, the anger tightening in his belly like a fist,
"What do you see in him?"
"Miguel?"
"Answer my fucking question. What do you see in him?!"
"Why do you keep talking about Ben?"
"Because Ben doesn't fucking love you the way I do!" He breaks down and your vision is completely clouded over in tears, hand shaking on the receiver as he finally admits what you so desperately wanted to hear.
"I love you. Do you still love me?"
"I n-never stopped loving you, Miggy..." You cry.
"You still think of me?"
"All the fucking time. I can't get you out of my head."
"You want me?" He whispers.
"More than I've ever wanted anyone."
"I'm coming over. Right now."
-----
And, just for a moment. Simply loving you made him forget about the inevitable dread of losing you.
It was a day just like any other day in the fall. When the dead leaves mixed with the rain and the ground was a soaked grey, reprieving the gloomy city from the consistent smog that covered the clouds. A remarkable chill in the air laced with nostalgia and petrichor that could be cured with a sweater, making the hot temperature of a warm beverage so inviting.
It was wonderful day, and all because you stayed in bed together five minutes longer than you should have. Your coffee mug next to his, eggs on buttered toast, nudging his hip as you ate by the stove. Quiet domesticity with the intimate element of routine that caused him to distinctly remember thinking:
"I can see this happening every day for the rest of my life."
And he left. Had he known, had he guessed. He wouldn't have let you leave at all, just stay there safely snuggled with you against his chest.
----
Crimson. Haunting, beautiful crimson.
The sea that left your battered body covering the street while Miguel shook with grief. The blood loss was such that it exceeded the time it would take for your spirit to depart your body. The disturbing fact that you were barely holding on was even more painful.
The devasting fact that you were probably suffering in your final moments and couldn't even see him or speak. He told you all of the things he was sorry for in final confession, but it only came out as the distant echoings of his fading voice as the slow, delayed compassion of death quietly led you by the hand.
"I love you....I'm not sorry for that..."He whispers, but the light in your eyes had already gone out.
Notes: This is from my long-fic, but can also be read as a one-shot. You do not need to know anything from that to be able to read this~
CW: 18+, Submissive Miguel, Temperature play (Ice), light bondage, oral (M and F giving/receiving), heavy teasing (Miguel receiving), praise kink, PinV, overstimulation, an overall sexy time~
Bonus Two: I Know I Don't Want Nobody Else but You
Word count: 4K
The honeymoon. The most intimate time after the wedding. The time where you and your new partner can enjoy each other's company even more, but in a different location.
You honestly didn't care if you and Miguel went on a honeymoon, but he insisted on a getaway to some fancy beach house. You were a bit surprised when he offered the beach of all places as he struck you as a person who seems to hate sand getting into places where it shouldn't be. But he really wanted to take you to this beautiful island with a private spot.
You agreed to go, and your only offer was for him to allow you to help pay for it. He tried to fight back, telling you that he had it all under control, but you told him that was his honeymoon as well, and you seriously didn't mind chipping in. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument and allowed you to give a couple of hundred dollars.
He wanted to transfer back the money the moment he received it but refrained. Asking for time off work and getting scolded by your boss for even bothering to ask because the answer was always going to be yes (you stated that you didn't want to just up and leave), you and Miguel booked everything and flew out for the trip.
The island was gorgeous. White sand with bits of red, luscious green landscapes, and the vast blue water in front that glowed at night.
The house was stunning. It was two stories high, and there were windows seemingly all over. It was white with hints of gray, white, and seafoam green. It screamed luxurious on the outside, yet the interior held more of a comfy heart inside. With white wood flooring, open flooring, and a high ceiling, it appeared more like a cabin, but with beach-style furniture. And you both loved it.
Your favorite part of the whole place was the bedroom that led out to the balcony.
You two had an amazing vantage point of the ocean, watching the sun come up and absorb the night with its beautiful oranges and kissing golden rays. To it, retiring for the night turned the purples and pinks into dark blues, embellishing the sky with the twinkling stars and milky way dancing around the moon. There was something about the illuminating glows from both the sun and moon when they beamed through the curtains that made you feel warm and calm.
Maybe it was the breezes that would stream through, whistling a soft tune in your ears. Or possibly the ambience of the sounds of crashing waves or the tides ascending from the shore and back.
Or maybe it was being near him.
Waking up to being entangled in each other's grasp made those emotions swirl deep. Seeing the beams hug his tan skin whether you were on the beach or in the house made you question how you were so lucky to end up with a man like him. And Miguel made sure to return the same sentiment. When you two weren't exploring the island or relaxing and enjoying each other's company, you two were all over one another.
On the sands of the beach (Miguel made sure to lay out a huge blanket), in the kitchen, the dining room, the laundry room, even on the roof (though you were ready to get down after the first thrust). You found your bodies nearly all over the beach house and beach.
Needless to say, hands couldn't be kept to yourselves for the first four out of the eight days.
It was all magical, and you were relishing every millisecond, but it got you thinking. You wanted to surprise Miguel. He would always catch you swooning over him if he was swimming or simply swinging in the hammock with a book that he would abandon a few pages in. He would instigate and lead you to any part of the house or wherever you were standing, and you both end up being sweaty, sticky messes.
But you wanted to throw him off track; you wanted him to sit back and enjoy himself while you savored every inch of your Renaissance marble sculpture on the runway, lover. You were going to find that way.
You and Miguel were snuggled up on the couch after coming back from a hibachi dinner that resided on the island, watching some movie, but you were barely paying attention to it.
“Vale, has estado distraído toda la noche. Tell me what's on your mind, mi Luna.” He peppered kisses your shoulder and neck.
You bit your bottom lip and pushed your body more into his. “It's nothing. Just some prime time thinking.”
“Prime time thinking?”
“Mhm.” You purse your lips and continue eyeballing the film.
“Mi Luna,” he said, tightening his grip and leaned in close to your ear. “Tell me what's on your mind. Now, mi corazón.”
A shiver spilled down your spine. You could restrain the temptation of wanting to give in, but you were always putty in his hands.
“Okay, fine. I'm only going to say this because you asked; it's actually been on my mind for the last day or so, and it's all I could ever—”
“Mi Luna, you're stalling.” His fingers brushed your hair.
You figured you outwardly saying it wasn't going to help you in the slightest. Expressing your desires didn't come easy, and it amped up around him, but tonight you were going to do this. You decided to not tell but show instead.
“Meet me in the bedroom in five minutes.” You patted his chest and darted off to the stairs. “And don't come until I say, mi Estrella!”
Stunned, he listened to the bedroom door close and shut his eyes and opened them bewildered. “Uh, okay.”
He debated if he should settle more into the couch or not get more comfortable. Every second, he would wander his attention over to a nearby clock then divert it elsewhere as time purposely slowed down whenever he took a peek. He listened out and heard you moving. He took note of every step and tiptoe you made across the floorboards. When six minutes passed, Miguel had to fight with himself from jumping up and darting in the room when you finally called for him.
Not craving to prolong the wait, he sped up the stairs and into the room where you lay propped up on the pillows, your arms sprawled on the cushions and legs stretched out with one over the other. You were in a silk robe but left no room for imagination. You were only in your underwear, and a smile was gracing you.
Miguel didn't know how to react, so he allowed his body to do the talking for him. He took off his shirt and slipped his pants right off. You suspected he would try to go for it; it even confirmed your suspicion even more when he dipped onto the bed and crawled towards you with those starving eyes.
“Mi Luna, you know I will give you anything to fill your urges.”
You shushed him and put your finger to mouth, winking innocently.
“I know, Miggy. But tonight, we're going to switch that around.”
He tipped his head to the side, trying to piece together what you meant by that, and that's when it dawned on him. “Mi corazón, are you wanting to take-”
“On the bed, and place your back on the headboard.” You rolled off the bed and stood by it and pointed at the spot where you were.
He was enticed and made his way over to get himself comfortable. Pleased, you discarded the robe, having it sink to the floor and straddled Miguel's hips. You were anticipating how far you could go. Wetting your lips, you began to roam your hands over his chest. You needed to see him squirm.
“Hands over your head.”
“And if I were to say no, mi Luna?” He gave a playful smirk and grinned harder when you rolled your eyes.
Taking his wrists, you shuffled up and pinned them above for him. “Now,” you locked eyes with him and followed his gaze whenever it went. “Webs. Let's go.”
When he didn't move a muscle, you knew you had to take matters into your own hands. Releasing him from your hold, Miguel went to lower his arms when you snatched one and planted it back on the wall. Quickly taking the free one, you angled it until it aligned with the other, firmly pressing his wrist so his web could bound it up.
“Mi Luna.”
“If you want to do things the hard way, then I can play that game too.” You repeat the process, moving his hand and shooting more to capture the other. “Much better.” You made sure to give him wiggle room on the first constrained arm, just in case.
Miguel balled his claw into a fist. He was curious to see what you had planned up. “You have me trapped. Now what?”
You kept quiet and pulled down his briefs to reveal his penis red and leaking the transparent liquid already.
“Mi Luna—ah! Oh, fuck.”
Miguel arched his back when your tongue found the tip, lazily swirling it around. He wasn't expecting you to jump right in. You were concentrating on flicking your tongue and placing feathery kisses from the body to the base. You fondled his balls, taking a quarter of him and slobbering on it as much as possible.
He exhaled and rolled his hips along with your movements when you pulled away with a pop and pressed your hands harder to his thighs. “No. Moving.” You went back, licking the shaft before putting it back in your mouth.
Miguel froze at the command when a low growl escaped from his throat. He went back to bucking his hips, wondering how you'd punish him. That, and he was desperate to have you take more of him. His breathing grew when he found himself successful, until he heard an irritated grunt.
You removed yourself from him and glared. The dangerous look sent a shiver down Miguel's spine, but he held it in, returning his own surly gaze. He watched you sit up and move back from him to reach the edge of the bed. His eyebrows knit, examining what your next move could possibly be.
“That warning wasn't for nothing.” You stood and turned your back to him. “For that, you get a punishment.”
You make your way towards the door, and Miguel begins to slightly panic. “Mi Luna, wait!” But you were already out of the room.
Were you going to leave him there like this? And for how long? He groaned out from the desire, his body burning with need. His eyes were locked on the door, growing more and more heated with every second that passed. He heard you shuffling around in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and the fridge.
After a minute, he was ready to call out for you when you strutted back in, with a wine glass and four ice cubes in it. You sat it on the bedside stand and plucked one out. He eyed you intensely, wondering what your next move was going to be. You smirked at his expression, removed your dampened underwear, and sat across from him, making sure to keep your legs spread enough for him to see all of you.
Putting the cube to your lips, you lap at it seductively, letting the cool droplets drip on your chest down to your stomach. Miguel was fixated on the way your lips curled around the solid. He tried to control his breathing as his cock throbbed relentlessly.
“Mi Luna...” he was already out of breath.
“Your punishment.” You moved the ice over his tip and let some drip on it. He groaned and threw his head. “Is to watch me please myself.”
You roamed it over yourself. Down your neck to your nipples. He followed your hands, ready to rip the bindings from his wrists, but kept himself at bay. He wanted nothing more than to replace that ice cube with his tongue. He was seriously jealous over frozen water; only you could get him to that point.
You made direct eye contact; your sharp hisses and soft moans as you trailed the ice down to your needy cunt had Miguel moaning out. You rubbed the nearly melted cube over your folds and clit, making your back arch. Your free hand reached down, and you stuck two fingers in yourself.
You made sure to scissor so he could adore every part.
“Por favor, mi corazón, por favor no hagas esto. Lo siento, pero por favor.” He begged as your pussy became wetter and wetter.
“Miguel,” you gasped out. You kept going until it completely melted. You were glistening from your chest to your thighs, your vagina very puffy as the clit poked out.
“Mi Luna.” His voice was filled with nothing but lust and needs. “Please…”
“Now, Miguel, when I tell you to not move, do not move. Yes ma'am?” You crawled your way over to him.
“Yes.” He replied, nothing but a shaky arousal in his tone.
You grabbed the back of his head and reeled him close to your face. “I said, yes, ma'am?”
Miguel almost came on the spot. “Ye-yes ma'am.”
“Good boy.” You placed your lips to his and went for another ice cube. You licked at it some, sucking it before moving it to him. “Lick.”
He did as he was told. You shivered when his tongue came into contact with your fingers, trying to stifle any sounds wanting to escape. You took it away when you were pleased with the size and began to pump his slick, veiny cock. It was hot and leaking out like crazy. You were a bit pleased with how well this was going.
You went in and nipped at his neck, leaving a couple of nice hickeys for anyone to see.
“All for me.” You purred right in his ear and placed the half-melted cube on the tip, sliding it down his length and then back up.
You moved back to get a nice view of your treatment. Miguel thrashed at the frigid sensation, his cock twitching as you rubbed it on the swollen tip. The more pre-cum that welled out, made you more proud.
“You're doing so good.” You wickedly grinned and plopped the rest of the ice in your mouth, taking him back in your mouth all the way.
Miguel moaned out, a string of swears in Spanish falling out. He looked down at your head, bobbing crazily, the sensations overwhelming his senses. His claws pricked his own palms, leaving indents in them.
Your whirling tongue and the slobbering made him want to cry. He desperately needed to release and wanted to buck his hips, but didn't want to endure another punishment, so he could stay still and watch your face and the copious amount of liquid spilling out from your mouth.
He glanced down when he saw you looking up at him through your lashes. The lewd sounds and the stare you were giving were enough to make him snap.
“Ay, mierda- mi Luna- fuck. I'm going to- fuck—I'm cumming.” He groaned out, and you dug your nails into his sides, taking every drop of him.
You released yourself from him and lifted your head, mouth wide open. Miguel almost fainted from the sight, watching some of his seed drizzle down your chin before you gulped down the mouthful.
“So delicious.” You licked your lips and cleaned up the rest of your face. “You always taste so good.”
“Vas a ser mi muerte.” Miguel rested back on the headboard. You took pride in his sweaty, disheveled state, and your smile wasn't washing away.
“You doing okay, mi Estrella?” You brushed away a bit of sweat from his forehead and kissed it.
“Sí, mi Luna.” His eyes seemingly got brighter when he looked at you. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“Any chance you get.” You went in for a kiss, letting him taste himself and taking the third cube. “Now for being such a good boy, let me reward you by helping you cool down and giving you something special.”
Miguel smirked and licked his lips. “What could be more special than what just happened?”
“You'll see.”
Lapping at the ice, you ran it over his pecs, abs, and nipples, circling around them before biting one of the hardened nubs. Miguel sighed out, eyes fluttering in the back of his head. It did feel nice to let you take the lead, and it really put it in perspective how kinky you could exactly get. He was certainly going to have you take charge more often.
Nodding your head at the shine of his chest and stomach, you decided he was ready for the main course. You stood up on the bed, holding your arms out to balance, and moved your vagina a couple of inches in front of Miguel's face. You placed one hand on the wall near his arms and propped a knee on his shoulder.
“Now that you're cooled down, here's your reward.” You ran the ice over your folds. “Go ahead, Miggy. Eat me out.”
Miguel didn't hesitate on that instruction and took you in his mouth. His tongue darts in and out to taste you. He sucked and eagerly ran the wet muscle eagerly, not wanting to miss a single spot.
You called out his name and immediately dropped the ice cube, not sure where it landed. Miguel growled out and made out with your honeyed pussy, wagging his head like a madman. You inclined more into him and the wall. Your hand gripped on his hair as you tried to maintain that balance.
Delving deeper into your core, he was letting not one drop escape from him. He worshiped every part of you; he loved the taste of you. The overflow of your moans sent him in a spiral. You bucked your hips whenever he plunged farther in.
You hissed and licked his arms, grazing the veins popping out, and felt yourself get closer and closer. You moved away and peered down at the trail of spit that was connected from Miguel's lips to your pussy. You whined and plopped back down on his wet lap from the ice you dropped before colliding your mouth into his, needing to taste every part. You sucked on his tongue, rubbing your wet folds along the tip of his cock, teasing him for your amusement, but even you couldn't take it.
“Mi Luna.” Miguel snarled, but you pretended to not hear and went to nip his neck.
The immense amount of foreplay made his dick very warm and firm. Feeling it pulsate against you had you shuddering. You brushed on him some more, receiving a jerk and bucking from the unceasing taunting.
“Eag-eager, huh, Miggy?” You giggled when you faced him, but you weren't expecting the parlous glint in those eyes.
You gulped. Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when Miguel freed himself from his webs, the residue floating in the air. You should've figured that him getting out of the bindings wouldn't take much of an effort. Placing his hands tightly on your bottom made you squeak.
“H-hey! I'm supposed to be taking the lead.”
“You are, but this teasing is stopping now.”
He forced you to take the head and stiffened his body. You bit your bottom lip and didn't move for a few seconds, and that evoked a strangled whine from Miguel.
“Por favor, no hagas esto, mi corazón. I can't take the punishm- shit!”
You sank down on him all the way, your walls enveloping the burning cock. Squeezing his shoulders, you began bouncing in a rhythmic motion. Wet sloshes sprung from the puddle and your juices. Your voices were loud, calling out each other's names. You sharply inhaled, adoring how red Miguel had gotten. You rocked more into him, gyrating your hips to the point where he swore you were spelling his name.
An electrifying shock coursed down your back as a breathy moan left your lips. You trembled as an orgasm shook you.
“I love you, mi Estrella.” You whispered near his lips. “You okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?”
“I love you too, mi Luna. And no, you were amazing.” He wiped away your tears and hoisted you up.
You were a bit dazed when he pinned you against the wall, placing your arms by the sides of your head and prying your legs as far as they could go. His webs flung over your body to keep you held up and sturdy. He dug his talons in and glared deep into your eyes. You were hypnotized by his lascivious red iris and whimpered his name.
“Mine.” Miguel bit down on your neck and shoved himself in one motion.
“Yours.” You cried out as your body was going numb, the personal novacane rushing through your bloodstream, but you still squeezed every inch of him.
“Feels amazing. Te sientes tan bien.” Miguel moaned and thrusted into your tight heat, loving every squelch and slurred speech emitting from you.
The speed he was going was so insane that you swore you were going to fall through. He gropes your breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple; his grunts and soft groans sounded pleasant in your ears. The moonlight shined through, bathing him and complimenting his skin.
His hip bones smack into yours. The messy pool leaking whenever his balls slapped against your delectable, creamy pussy. He stroked your every inch, admiring your intoxicating face. Even though you were numb, every breech was wonderful. You were being split open, the engorged tip rubbing on your cervix, when another climax spilled out of you.
He didn't let up, dropping his head on the crown of your hair, taking in your scent. “Mi esposa, mía. Mi vida, mi galaxia, mi luna.”
Your heart was beating in your eardrums. Miguel's dick pulsed madly in you, his panting becoming irregular.
“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te amo.” Miguel convulsed and bit your neck once more. Shot after shot of his cum seeped deep in you, along with more of his venom. Kissing your sweaty forehead and lips, he smiled at your tousled state. “Thank you for taking charge, mi corazón.”
You struggled to give half a smirk, but the twitch was enough for him.
“Let's get you cleaned up. Want me to open the balcony door?”
Your eyes tried their best to narrow at it, and thankfully, he understood.
“Alright. I love you, mi Luna. You go ahead and relax. You deserve it.” He tore off the netting and carried you to the bathroom before letting the salty sea and sounds croon in the room.
You loved this man with all your heart.
• • •
Miguel scratched his head and scanned the bathroom to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind.
The day before, you both ordered in some food, chatted, and slept all day after that intense round, deciding to use that day to merely relax and regain energy before heading back home today.
Peeking in the shower to grab your body wash, his ears perked up to your voice.
“Miggy? We have a slight problem.” You called out.
He strolled out to where you were facing a wall. Your hands were at your sides with a look of mild concern. “The wall.”
He furrowed his brows and followed your line of vision. “What happened to the wall?” And that's when he noticed the claw marks and cracks going from big to small decorating the light blue paint. “Ah.”
“I think we're going to lose that deposit.” You sighed and gazed up at him, smirking at his work.
“I'm fine with losing it. And I'll do it again and again, mi Luna.” He kissed your temple then went back to packing, leaving you feeling extremely flustered and your face in your hands.
This was undoubtedly the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, and you weren't going to complain, not one bit.
Notes: Something I wanted to do as my brain wouldn't leave me alone about it. A nice wedding as reader now becomes Mrs. O'Hara~
CW: Wedding day shenanigans and a slightly nervous reader and Miguel.
Bonus One: You Slow Down Time, in Your Golden Hour
Word count: 6.4K
You stared into the full-body mirror, nervousness, happiness, and other raging emotions swirling within. You never felt like this, but here you, trying not to sweat your pits as Ronnie turned you over to look at her.
“Careful, I don't want to stick you.” She muttered, sewing a small tear right on the side of your dress.
“I'm sorry, Ronnie. I didn't mean to zone out on you.”
She waved her hand, digging through a sewing kit and getting right to work. “Nah, don't be. It's a big day for you. I don't blame you for being all up in the clouds and jittery.”
You reared your head back at the mirror and beamed harder. You couldn't believe this momentous event was happening; you simply couldn't.
You were getting married.
You were getting married to your star, your forever, your everything: Miguel O'Hara.
Twisting the engagement ring, you peered at the shining stone. Ronnie grinned, finishing up the last final touches on it. “And here we are.”
Staring at yours and Ronnie's reflection, you both dawned the same sparkling smile, eyeing the dress in admiration. The dress was beautiful. The flowing skirt embroidered with tiny stars and daisies, the slight puffy sleeves, the V-neck showing just a bit of cleavage.
It was wonderful, considering that it is an expensive dress as well.
Ronnie was given this dress by some model who, in a pretentious manner, gave it away along with other clothing because ‘she didn't want to be caught dead with them.’
When Ronnie did research, the clothes were worth tens of thousands of dollars, having her to hoard them away from the public eye.
“But now, since this is technically a very special occasion, I want you to wear and have this.”
You recalled denying her over and over. You couldn't accept a very extravagant item, especially if it was one of her most prized possessions. Yet Ronnie's persistence refused to give in.
She badgered you and even got Miguel to jump on the bandwagon when he saw how it complimented your figure. Even taking notes on the little designs adorning it.
You did give in by the third week, when Ronnie was standing in front of your apartment one morning holding the dress up to her chest. You were grateful for Miguel being up that early, or you would've tossed her out of your window. She threatened to sneak in and put the damn thing on in your sleep, and you didn't want to take her up on that offer.
Then you got an actual good look, and the rest was history.
“Doing okay?”
“Hm? Uh, yes. Think the jitters are getting to me.” You raised your arms when Ronnie instructed you to do so.
“You're not planning on trying to pull a runaway bride on us, are you now?” She inspected for any other tears or loose strings. “Because if you are, let me come. I don't want to be there when Miguel inevitably freaks out more than usual... Or maybe I'll have Peter record it.”
You couldn't say you were baffled by your friend's train of thoughts, but it still never managed to have you taken aback because of how thoughts chugs along up there.
“No, Ronnie. Besides, my body wouldn't even take two steps before I'm sprinting right back to the altar. I love that man too much, and cold feet aren't an option.”
“That man does seem to have a magnetic pull.” She pinned a part and placed her hands on her hips. “And there we go. You are all ready to go.”
“I'm getting married, holy shit, I'm getting married, Ronnie. What the fuck, what the fuck? Are they ready? Is he ready? Please tell me I have more time to get my shit in order.”
Your boss pulled out her phone before swatting your hand away from your hair, scolding you for trying to mess it up. “I worked on that.” She punched in several numbers, and you listened to the phone ring.
“Do you think he's nervous? Or is it just me? I think it's only me; it has to be me? Right, right?” You crossed your arms and tapped your foot rapidly. “What if he's calm and I'm the nervous one? It's only me!” You started to pace the room, fanning yourself to not get overly sweaty.
After the fourth ring, someone picked up, and Ronnie heard shuffling, then a frantic voice speaking in Spanish at a hundred words per second in the background.
“Calm- Miguel, calm down; it's—yes, I know... No, she won't have cold—go, go sit down! Just relax. Hi, Ronnie. Is she ready to go?” Peter's held a strain in his tone as Miguel continued panicking in the back.
“About to ask you the same thing. Is he freaking out as much as she is?” Ronnie looked at your worn state, then back at her phone.
“I'm trying to get him to calm down. He said he's scared if she gets cold feet or if he gets it. I told him he would turn and run straight back to the altar if he tried to do a runaway groom. And he agreed.”
Ronnie snickered and sighed out. “Sounds about right. But she's ready; they're both wrecks, so that means they're good to go.”
“I don't think that means they are ready, Ronnie.”
“They are. Find a way to get him in the car, and we will see you two in five.” She hung as Peter tried to sputter one more thing, but Ronnie wasn't having you and Miguel drag this day on.
“What did he say? He's not ready? Good, grand, I get to relax here for a bit longer.”
“Nope, he's ready. Let's go.”
You and Ronnie had a showdown. You were wanting to do this, but there was something gnawing at your skin and bones. You couldn't figure out why you were so anxious. Leading up to this day was all fine and dandy. Everything was in order, and you both agreed on how the day would go with relative ease.
Like how you both originally wanted to do a Catholic ceremony, but you didn't necessarily have the right resources. With your mother and father watching the celebration by phone, due to your father's chronic fear of flying, you two didn't really want to go through all those steps. When Miguel explained the steps, your head was caught in a whirlwind, and even with your own research on how to minimize it, it made your head throb. So you settled on simple vows and allowed the officiant to do their thing.
And the guest list was a breeze to make, even if you both knew the consequences. It made sense for Peter to be the best man and Ronnie to be your maid of honor. You didn't mind Peter's wife tagging along too; you both needed some balance between the two. Short and simple. The way you two wanted it.
Then the next thing you slightly dreaded: your mom and dad.
When you announced the news to your parents about the engagement, they immediately video called wanting to interrogate Miguel. You tried to prevent any form of physical call, only wanting to stick to messages, but Miguel eased you to the idea that talking to them would've been a better option. You did give in, but it was an immediate regret.
“Why are you so big? Do you do steroids?”
“What the hell, dad?”
“Don't talk to your father that way. Now, what's your income salary?”
“Mom!”
“What? I need to make sure he can provide.”
“Occupation?” Your dad stepped more into frame.
“I'm, uh, I'm retired, sir.”
“Doesn't answer my question.”
“Geneticist, sir.”
“Yeah, I don't like him. No scientist needs to be that built.”
“I just searched how much a geneticist could make, and he's retired at a young age? He's good-looking man, smart, and in shape? Good pick. I like him. When are you having children? Keep him because I want beautiful grandbabies!”
You wanted to evaporate into the air.
“You like him for all the wrong reasons. What are your intentions with my daughter? Do you want kids? Where did you meet her? What are your political thoughts? How much has she told you about us? Why haven't you called us to tell us you've been seeing this man-?”
You hung up and slumped your body on the table.
“Now I see why you only message them instead of calling.”
You gave it a few more days for them to settle down, and it helped. It didn't take long for your mom to love him, to the point where she preferred to talk to him more than you. Your dad did eventually warm up to him, more so when he learned that Miguel was actively trying to seek out your brother to surprise you at the wedding. Your dad accidentally let it slip a couple days before the wedding, stating Miguel is now his new son and how Barkley was a coward for hiding away.
Miguel confessed that he was struggling to find him; even with his old fancy HQ gizmo, it was as if he never even existed. He did feel undoubtedly terrible, and you hugged him, thanking him a million times for going out of his way for a surprise that would've been amazing.
To help bring the mood back up, you treated him to his favorite restaurant and then came back to the apartment and proceeded to ride him until you both were seeing stars.
Needless to say, you pushed everything to the back of your brain to solely focus on Miguel, the wedding, and nothing else.
Everything was running smoothly, minus MJ not being able to show up due to catching a virus, so there wasn't going to be any middleman that you and Miguel craved. And Ronnie wasn't helping by forcibly dragging you out to the car. The glimpses of passersby didn't help as Ronnie gave them all a thumbs-up that this wasn't a kidnapping, and you were safe before gently shoved you in the passenger side. Your leg bounced the vehicle, wishing that the botanical garden was halfway across Nueva York.
“You're going to tilt the car if you keep moving your leg like that.” She slid in and started up the engine and pulled off the curb.
“I'm sorry, Ronnie. I don't know why I'm feeling this way.”
“Marriage is a big thing. Committing your life to someone who is willing to go through the ups and downs with you and vice versa. Well, unless you're my cousin.”
Your face bunched up at that. “Why do you say that?”
“She's been married about seven times in the span of five years. She was more worried about the weddings than the actual guy she was getting with.” Ronnie said. “Always keeping up with her needs, barely inputting what the man may want. Every time you saw the groom, they always seemed so dead, tuned out, or going along with it to prevent her from blowing up over the simplest of issues. Kind of sad, so seeing someone excited to be with the person they truly love is refreshing.”
Your lips curled upwards. It was joy that was amplifying all those emotions that were raging inside. The one that was outshining the rest.
Ronnie parked and hopped out of the car and dashed to your side and opened it for you. She moved her head around like a vulture, scoping out for the others. Only a few cars preoccupied the other spaces, but she didn’t see the car Peter was taking. You stepped out with her help and pointed out that the officiant was here.
“Hey, we got fifty percent. I see that as an absolute success so far.” Ronnie took your hand, and you two made your way under the pergolas. “You know this would be a gorgeous shot.”
“I'll make sure to tell Peter. I hope he remembered to bring his camera.” When scouring for a photographer, you learned that Peter was one, and he recommended himself to do all the pictures and photo edits.
You accepted his offer but didn't know how the payment was going to work with him being from another dimension. You questioned if it was like another country where you could exchange your currency for theirs. Or if future money would affect the past. They assured you that it should be okay, and if it doesn't, you and Miguel would pay in babysitting Mayday.
“Where the heck are Peter and Miguel? I swear if he did do a ‘runaway groom,’ I'm going back for my bat!”
You had to pause and grab her by the shoulders to not freak yourself out. “Ronnie,” you began through a tightened jaw and forced smile. “Let's go in and meet the officiant. Remember, if one of us shows up first, we can quickly make sure things are in order. Two, Ronnie. Please. Don't.”
The woman was a bit shaken by your calm yet frightening demeanor. She nodded her head, taking the time to realize stressing you out wasn't the best idea. You continued on as she watched you pull your phone out and dial for your parents. You were immediately met with bombarding questions and what took you so long to call. Your eye spasms, and you were forced to give them a stern talking and practically told them to behave themselves, or you will have Ronnie keep them silent throughout the entire ceremony.
You greeted the officiant, who was settled on one of the splattered painted benches. She thankfully gave an update that Miguel and Peter were on the way, leading you and Ronnie to the entryway to get checked in. There was an employee there if anything went awry or you simply needed help.
“I need to freshen up, please. Ronnie, stay here if they come. Can you show me where your restrooms are?” Your hands fidgeted with the puffs on your sleeves. The officiant decided to go with you in case you needed more assistance.
Ronnie mingled with your parents, her and your mom squealing how you were marrying a “hunky hottie,” while your father didn't make a peep. Ronnie's phone vibrated in her back pocket. She grabbed it and cupped the screen. It was Peter. She excused herself from your mom and dad and muted them so they wouldn't start raising questions on why the groom isn't there yet.
“Where the hell are you two?” Ronnie hissed.
“We're in the parking lot. Had to help Miguel from sweating up his dress shirt too much.” There were two doors being shut. “Where is she? Is everyone here and ready?”
“Yes, now hurry up—you slow bastards!” Ronnie hung up and hurriedly called the officiant to make her way back.
When she got there, your boss handed the phone to the officiant and made her way to where you and the employee were.
“Can I talk to her alone, please?” You smiled at the employee.
“Of course.” They shuffled out of the restrooms and into the outside.
“Letting you know now, I'm not afraid to tackle you down if you try to run.” Ronnie checked behind to make sure the counter was dry and leaned on it.
“Did you manage to get a glimpse of him?” You peered at your reflection, giving yourself a final inspection, inside and out.
“Nope. I think I was making my way here when they came in.” She inched over and rested her hand on your shoulder. “You look lovely, by the way.”
The corner of your lips quivered up. “Thank you, Ronnie.”
“Of course.” She laced her arms around your torso, weary about not wrinkling your dress. “You know I have a sixth sense?”
You huffed a laugh. “Do you now?”
“I sure do. And it's saying that life with him will be a path that's full of wonder and wander. Full of winding and unwinding roads. You know all that good crap.”
“I wouldn't say it like that.”
“And you're going to march down to that archway, talk about how much you mean to one another, and get married.”
“I was going to do that from the start; it was never going to change, Ronnie.” You scrunch your face. “Was this a motivational pep talk?”
“In a way. I was buying time so they could get into position.”
You sighed out, ready to touch your hair to relax, when Ronnie smacked your hand away from it once more. One more look at the mirror, and you dazed into your own eyes, then smiled.
“Okay, I'm ready.” You linked arms with Ronnie and headed out to a welcoming sunbeam.
Miguel was steeled to the ground. His palms were sweaty, but he didn't want to wipe them. He eyed Peter, who gave him a thumbs-up, and then the officiant, who simply offered a smile.
The flowers decorating the arch were the same from the first time he shared a kiss with you. He fiddled with the marigold pinned to his shirt and made sure it was not damaged. Checking in the direction you were supposed to come, his mind drifted to subconscious thoughts, praying that nothing was off or if his breath smelled (he made sure to brush and gargle three times).
Before he could go any deeper, you and Ronnie emerged in full view.
Miguel couldn't breathe. He stared as you made your way to the archway, the sun, and the flowers, always adding on to your already mesmerizing glow. Every step was elegant, and his heart pounded the closer you got to him. There was no one else in the world besides him and you.
You didn't want to seize up, but Miguel in his suit and the floral around him brought you back to the first time you ever came here. The first time he was open with you, the first time you shared your kiss. The start to where you are now.
Extending his hand, you happily took it and drifted as close to him as you possibly were able to. You saw Ronnie take back your phone and make her way over to her side with a skip in step. Taking his free hand, you rubbed the back of it to soothe you both. “You got this. Lo conseguimos.”
“Gracias, mi Luna.”
“You two ready?” the officiant asked.
You signaled for her to begin.
“We are gathered here today on this lovely day, surrounded by one of nature's many beauties of the earth, to celebrate the love and the bringing unity of Miguel and Y/n.”
Miguel felt his eye twitch and wiped at it before going to the other.
You tried to stop the tears from leaking, but they did anyway. Time was slowing down, the officiant's words getting lost and fading into the back. It was only him.
“Eres hermosa.” Miguel mouthed.
“Eres hermoso.” You mouthed back.
The shared fondness ran deep. You wanted to stroke his face, so you squeezed his hands tighter. Miguel didn't want to wear his sunglasses because he wanted you to see every emotion. You didn't want him to strain himself, but he was insistent. With that, you checked the weather almost every day for a partly cloudy day to wed on.
You gazed up to a perfect blend of the sky blue and the white fluff lazily covering the sky from time to time.
You zoned back in when the officiant began the declaration.
“I would say take each other's hands, but you both already have that filled.” The officiant cheesed. “Now, do you promise to choose each other every day, to love each other in word and feed?”
“We do.” You and Miguel nod.
“Do you promise to recognize one another as equals and support one another in your goals and wishes for the future?”
“We do.”
“Do you promise to always share your thoughts, feelings, and concerns with the other and be open and honest at all times?”
“That means no ‘thinking’ you're okay or insisting. You have that habit.” Ronnie sputtered out before pressing her lips into a thin line when all eyes were on her. “Uh, sorry. Pretend I didn't say anything.”
You huffed out a strong gust of wind and shook your head at your friend. Miguel chuckled and stole a quick kiss on your temple. “I'm here for you.”
“I know, thank you.” You grinned, and you both proudly said, “We do.”
“Miguel, you may now share your vow.”
“Mi Luna, where do I begin?” He shook your hands. “When you came into my life, it was something I never was expecting; it was a path that I thought I couldn't cross, and yet you proved it otherwise. When you allowed me to open up and gave me that space to be myself, it was all so unfamiliar. But whenever the sun and moon drifted into the horizon and the skies, or were hidden by the weeping clouds, you were there with your compassion and understanding.
You made each day feel simplistic; each minute I am around you is an eternity of peace and love that I never want to end. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to want to learn and grow; thank you for showing that there are people who want to be by my side,” he paused to acknowledge Peter, Ronnie, and the direction of the HQ. “That there have always been others who have been there.”
You brushed the corner of your eye, trying not to smear your makeup.
“Mi Luna, mi corazón, mi vida. Thank you for letting the marigolds and lavender pop up. Thank you for showing me these connections and values that lie beneath, waiting to grow. Te amo y nada cambiará eso jamás.”
The officiant gave you the say to recite your vow.
“You big, loveable oaf.” You laughed and sniffled. “That night we crossed paths; I wouldn't have known what was going to happen. I had days of questioning and wondering, asking myself, ‘Is all this real? Is this amazing man before me actually real?’ And yet, the more and more we got to know each other, the more I felt like I've known you for most of my life. I thought of the future with you. I want one with you. You bring in this tenderness and sentiments that always bring these connections whenever you're around.
“The day you asked me to be your wife was a dream that fell from the light. I had to stop myself from pinching myself because if it were a dream, I wouldn't want to wake from it.”
The night he proposed is something that'll forever have a fond place in your memories.
He brought you to the park after cooking up some cinnamon waffles and playing one of the early albums you got for him. He insisted it was only for nostalgic purposes and that he only wanted to do it on the fly. You held your suspicion, and it didn't ease it when he took you out to the botanical garden and the restaurant you first ate at for dinner. You probed him with question after question until Miguel had you relax. Giving in, you leisurely went along and enjoyed the rest of the evening.
The last stop was the park. The moon was out, and a few stars were stagnant in the sky. You sat on a bench and snuggled up next to one another, loving each other's presence when Miguel made you close your eyes. He stopped you from interrogating and had you comply. You listened out for any sounds when Miguel's voice sounded far away.
He sat across the other bench and stared right at you with those hypnotic eyes. You laughed and pointed to your own and uttered, “Crimson?”
He smiled and placed his hands in his pockets before making his way to you. He stood there for a few seconds, the orange from the streetlights and the ivory moon competing to be his spotlight. And that's when he got on one knee, and you immediately started to sob. You couldn't recall the speech (he had to retell it when you had to sedate your mind), but you remember saying ‘yes’ repeatedly.
“I love you, mi Estrella. I want to walk on that path with you. Even if it gives us twists and turns, I want to remain by your side through it all.” Your hands were getting wet, but neither of you cared.
“You have shared your vows, the promises and love that will still flourish and blossom onwards. We witness and bless your vows for the lifetime of your marriage. May I have the rings?” The officiant turned to Peter, who handed them to her. “Thank you.”
She gave you and Miguel the rings and eyed the etched crescent moon on the inside. And on his was a star. The officiant gave the ring exchange speech to be repeated. You noticed his hand trembled when you looked up to see tears rolling down from his cheeks. Even if it was tiny, the smile was radiating, and you couldn't help but return your own beaming one, drops streaming down to your chin.
“I, Miguel, give you, Y/n, this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith, in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you.” He placed the ring on your finger, fighting the urge to kiss your hand.
The officiant looked at you and had you recite.
“I, Y/n, give you, Miguel, this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith, in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you.” You slipped it on and gave a quick peck to his ring finger. “I'm sorry. I, uh, I couldn't control myself.” You tittered.
“That's okay.” The officiant winked. “Before these witnesses, you both have sealed your pledge with these rings. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may now kiss the- oh.”
Miguel swept you off your feet into a kiss that he put his all into. The sun warmed your skin, and so did Miguel. Your hands grazed his cheekbones, his nose, whatever your thumbs could touch.
You were officially married, and the butterflies fluttered inside.
Going to sign your name on the certificate, you caught Miguel staring keenly at the paper.
“Mi Estrella? ¿Estás bien?”
“Yeah, I'm just... in disbelief I get to have someone as you as my wife. That I get to have this chance at a better life.”
“Of course you deserve it, Mi Estrella. And I will never stress that enough.” You scratch his back when Ronnie yells for you to come over.
“You have other people to blab to.” She hoisted the phone to your face, to your mother gleaming in the camera and your father having a fixed glare.
“We are so proud of you!” Your mom clapped before shoving the phone in your dad's face. “Stop looking like that! You'll add more damn ridiculous than what you need. Say something to our daughter.”
“I'm glad that you are my son. Visit. Soon.” You knew that was more of a demand than a request.
Miguel draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you in closer. “Thank you. And we will, we promise.”
“Come on, you lovebirds. Let's get some pictures!” Peter waved his camera around, and Ronnie clapped her hands.
Peter had you two posing around the garden. He was really good at it, having you both feel relaxed and natural surrounded by nature's landscape. The officiant even took group photos of you four, and Ronnie had taken many bad selfish or gorgeous off-guard ones; there was never an in-between with her. You were given the opportunity to freely roam the garden and reminisce about the beauty when you first came here.
You didn't think it was possible for your heart to swell more, but it was proven.
“I'm proud of you, you know?” Peter patted Miguel's back. “Still ways to go, but you'll get there. Especially with her on your side.”
They glanced over at you and Ronnie chattering away with the officiant, and Miguel was in awe at you. You always managed to hold a presence that made others feel warm, even if you weren't trying.
“Thank you, Peter. Thank you.”
The three flocked to Peter and Miguel, and you immediately shuffled over to Miguel's side and held his hand.
“So, we're getting food, right?” Ronnie patted her stomach loudly. “Because I can go for something right about now.”
“We did book a small section for the Asian street food restaurant.” You chimed in. “Would you like to join us? It'll be on us.” You asked the officiant.
“I would love to join, but I have another wedding to head to tonight. And I'm going to need all the rest for that one. But thank you for the offer. I wish you two nothing but these best.”
You all said your farewells to her, thanking her one final time, and watched her leave.
“Alrighty. Any more pictures you guys want to take?” Peter held up his camera.
You shook your heads in unison, your own stomach growling, indicating you're ready to chow down. You all made your way to the cars and down to the restaurant. Being greeted and checking in, you four were seated in a private booth area with barely any noise from the rest of the establishment.
Ordering an array of foods to share, Ronnie recommended for everyone to order a drink to make a toast for you and Miguel. You agreed and got a nice fruit cocktail, and Miguel stuck to a simple glass of red wine.
“This is the part where Peter and I give our thoughts and stuff.” Ronnie raised one of her rounds of shots filled with sake. “I'm going first, so Peter, you have to try and find a way to follow mine up.” She downed the drink and wiped her lips.
“I admire you both. The dedication you give to each other is insane. The way you two interact makes it seem like you have already been together for so damn long. I will never forget the day you walked into my little shop; you were so uncomfortable as hell.”
“You ogled at me for almost a minute.” Miguel piped up.
“She did what?” You almost gave yourself a crick in your neck to look at Ronnie.
“But the moment my great employee, my amazing friend, came up to the front, I could immediately tell how smitten you were for her.” Ronnie grabs another shot. “Even though you were wearing your sunglasses, you didn't need to see to know. Then, as the days went by, the further love between you was wild. You two made each other comfortable and wanted. An absolute.” She downs the drink.
“Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you two are in love, and no matter what you'll face, no matter how big or little, or how the outcomes may come out, you will see the light within each other.” Another glass.
Your heart fluttered, and Miguel reached for your hand. “Ronnie, thank you; that was beautiful. You're going to make me cry.” You had to get a napkin to dab at the corners of your eyes.
“Thanks. Cause I certainly know there will be lights being seen on your honeymo-”
“And now it's my turn. Certainly don't know how I could top that, Ronnie.” Peter shakenly laughed. “I'll try to make it short and sweet, because I'm starving.” He bought his wine glass close to his face.
“Miguel, I could talk about the first time you let it slip about missy over here or how you were freaking out on what date to take her on.”
You giggled at that and nudged the abashed man.
“But I'm going to say what I haven't said before: you are making your future with a person you love; continue to write your story and look back whenever you need that pick me up.” He tilted the glass toward you. “And I know you're going to let him tell his story, one page at a time. I'm so proud of you, and I will never stress that enough.”
“Gracias, Peter. Gracias Ronnie.” Miguel said.
“Thank you two for being here for us.” You added in and beamed.
Clinking your drinks together, the first round of food was brought out, and you guys began to chow down. You and Ronnie watched in astonishment with how much Peter and Miguel tore into the meals; even a couple of staff members were wide-eyed. Peter stayed until desert, heading back home to not keep his sick wife and child abandoned too long. Bringing you both in a bear hug, you said your goodbyes when you had to excuse yourself to answer a phone call from your parents.
Miguel kept his eyes on your figure when something jostled him out of it.
“Heya, business partner.” Ronnie plopped right by Miguel, checking to make sure you were out of earshot. “How is he doing?”
Miguel gave a side glance and leaned back with his arms crossed. “I'm not even going to entertain what you're about to say.”
Ronnie gave a hardy laugh and pretended to wipe some tears away. “Miggy, Miggy, Miggy, always the ones with the great jokes.” She sighed out and patted his back.
The man creased his brows at your friend. He still doesn't understand how you two get along, but he tries not to question it. He decided to wait and see what she had up her sleeve for her to be acting this way.
“Yes, Ronnie?”
The woman cleared her throat and sat up straight. “Right, no need to butter you up; you're happy and married to the love of your life, my girl. You know, Y/n.”
Now Miguel was severely lost. He had no idea where she was heading, and frankly, it frightened him some. Anything was possible when it came to Ronnie, but he was going to give that ear.
“Ronnie?”
“Okay, for real, jumping to the chase.” She sipped her cocktail and smacked her lips. “I saw the way your eye twitched when the officiant said her name. Like, sort of, how should I say? Realization?”
Miguel had to keep his composure. He swore he played it off well. “I was trying not to get too teary-eyed from the start.” To Miguel, that sounded like a reasonable explanation; no need to go further into details. And yet, he knew this was Ronnie he was dealing with.
“Okay. Fair.”
He was shocked; it actually worked for her.
“So why the hell were you looking at the certificate with a thousand-yard stare? And don't tell me it was because you were in awe and got to marry her.”
He blinked.
“Yeah. I overheard that. So tell me… why?”
Miguel was begging you to come back any minute. He was in a frenzy, needing to find some sort of new response. No matter what he pulled out, they all were ridiculous. A voice being cleared jolted him back into reality.
There he was met with a very smug Ronnie.
“You never knew her name.”
Miguel didn't say a word. The silence screamed out, and that's when she slapped the table.
“I knew it! It made sense why you would never say her name. I thought it was this endearing thing with the nickname, but no! That was never the case.” Ronnie glanced back and went right back to Miguel.
He was embarrassed. His face hidden behind his face in full fledged shame. “Do not tell her. I'll never be able to live it down if she finds it.”
“Oh my God, holy hell. You went through hell and back; you're living with her; you put a ring on it, and you never once bothered to try and learn her fucking name?”
“Ronnie, por favor! I beg of you, please don't bring it up.” His voice was at the lowest it could go; his cheeks flushed.
“Oh, I won't.” Ronnie said.
Miguel exhaled greatly and leaned back in the booth. “Gracias, Ronnie. I feel like an idiot for never bothering to learn. No puedo creer que realmente hi-”
“Unless you do something for me.” She folded her hands on the table.
“I should've known. I should've known better.” Miguel mumbled and dragged his hands down his face and sighed loudly. “Are you seriously about to blackmail me? You know that's illegal.”
“You call it blackmailing; I call it investing in a long-term business.” She swept her hand in the air, stars in her eyes.
Miguel wondered if it wouldn't be too bad if you knew he didn't exactly learn your name. He started to weigh the pros and cons when Ronnie tapped the table.
“I will give details on what I would like in return soon enough. I do want you to enjoy your day with your lovely wife.” She gestured to you strolling back in with a giant grin and sparks when you saw Miguel.
“So what were you two chatting about?” You slid next to Miguel and snuggled your body on his.
“How good the meal was and how you two are very much made for each other.”
You were slightly lost, but chalked it up to Ronnie being Ronnie. After leaving the restaurant and Ronnie stealing one more photo of you two on her phone, she drove you two back to your apartment, where you and Miguel slumped on the couch.
“So, Mr. O'Hara?” You scooted over to him.
“Yes, Mrs. O'Hara?” He wrapped his arm around you.
“How about we get out of these clothes?”
“Mhm.”
“Take a nice, long, steamy shower.” You rubbed his chest.
“Mhm?” He took your hands and kissed them.
“And get some rest?”
“Yes, please. Having to endure Peter and Ronnie's nonsense was a lot,” he smiled and put his lips to your ring. “But I would do it over and over, knowing I would get to marry my moon and relive this day.”
“Wouldn't you rather do it once so we can make new memories for the future?”
He chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you wouldn't want to be stuck in that loop?”
“... Maybe.” You gave a cheesy smile and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you dearly, mi Estrella.”
summary: You work at a Blockbuster store in Nueva York. Every day is the same, you daydreaming about a guy to come in and sweep you off your feet. Will today be any different?
tags: Miguel x fem!reader, 90's/early 2000's AU
warnings: PinV, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys!), oral f! receiving. Let me know if there is something else!
song:
It was just another day in this awful city, Nueva York.
Like always, you woke up thanks to your alarm, went to the bathroom, did your routine, and had breakfast, before getting ready for your job. But not as any other day, you decided to dress cute today, show your figure, look nice. You worked at a Blockbuster, nothing interesting. Not a single man worthy of your attention ever crossed the doors of the store, but something was telling you that today was going to be different.
You picked your best outfit, did your make up and hair and off you were, trying to get on time without messing up your appearance. You were the only working the opening shift, the mornings always being slow, and today wasn’t the exception.
Upon arriving you opened the store and got to work, placing the movies that were returned the previous day on their respective shelves. Once the work was done, you checked the notebook with the movies already on rent and the dates that they were supposed to be returned.
After staring at it for like half an hour you huffed. Can’t this day become any more boring? People came and went on the street, some glancing inside, but never coming in. It wasn’t like they were your knight in shining armor. None of the men walking in front of the glass seemed to catch your eye. Just when I dressed myself up. What a waste of time
You continued staring out the window for a couple minutes, elbow on the counter in front of you, with your chin resting on the palm of your hand.
The summer sun was beginning to enter the store, hitting your face lightly. The warmth spread through your body, lulling you to sleep. Trying to stay awake, you grabbed your mp3, plugged your headphones and began listening to music: La Playlist by Emilia Mernes blasting through your ears making you forget about the world around you.
You closed your eyes, feeling the music. You hummed to the rhythm, losing yourself into it, almost missing the ring of the bell of the door, signalling someone coming in. Almost
That split second could have been the biggest mistake of your life.
Opening your eyes, you expected a normal client, you know, a group of teenagers looking for something fun to watch, a nerd searching for his superhero movies or a woman trying to find a romcom capable of tearing her away from her troubled/awful love life.
What you did not expect was a Greek god entering through that door.
The tall man, with perfect tan skin and brown locks strolled into the store with his hands on his front pockets. He was wearing a black tank top on top of a white one with navy blue jeans. The sun hit his skin perfectly, it reflecting on his huge arms, accentuating his veins.
The longer you looked at him, the more perfect he was. His face was probably sculpted by all the gods combined, creating a perfect structure. High and sharp cheekbones, a beautiful nose and really kissable lips.
The guy nodded your way, acknowledging you, but you were too distracted to notice, daydreaming about all the things you would love him to do to you. The brunette turned his back to you, giving you a perfect view of his huge shoulders, his body built like an inverted triangle.
Oh, how you wished he could lift you up so you could wrap your legs on his tiny waist
You continued admiring him from afar, not even realizing you were biting your lip until you tasted blood. Pull yourself together girl, you thought. It is not everyday that you see a man like this. Time to shine.
Pulling yourself off the counter you tried to fix yourself, tidying your hair, smoothing your top and making sure your skirt was presentable. You took a deep breath, calming yourself, preparing for what you were about to do. You couldn’t mess this up.
You walked silently behind him, aiming not to startle him. He was in the science fiction section. Interesting. He didn’t strike you as the nerd type, but whatever. Your plan wasn’t to engage in conversation, but something else. Something more physical.
Stopping just a few centimeters away from him you couldn’t decide how to call his attention. Should you touch his shoulder? Or was that too much. You didn’t want to scare him off. You decided to go with a softer approach.
You cleared your throat lightly, catching his attention.
The man turned his neck towards you, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face. Oh.
“I was wondering when you were going to come and say hi” he said, the smirk never leaving his face.
His voice was smooth and low, turning your legs into jelly. He turned his whole body towards you, crossing his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. Damn, how you wish you could wrap your hands around them and squeeze them.
“Darling?” he asked, staring right into you.
“Oh, I-” you said startled. You didn’t think you were staring at him for that long for him to notice.
In that moment, the most beautiful sound you had ever heard erupted from his mouth. His laugh was like a breath of fresh air. His lips curled upwards, showing his white teeth. You could feel yourself growing hot. Your cheeks burning, your ears, and other parts too, but for entirely different reasons.
“Ay nena,” he began, after calming down. “You are so adorable.”
He reached forward, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to calm yourself down and make sense of what he was doing to you. When you opened them back again, his eyes bore into you, a smirk back in his lips. He knew you were his. He had you just where he wanted, and you would let him do anything to you. Anything.
He stepped towards you, making you step back, before he used his other hand to grab your waist, keeping you in place, close to his body.
“Uh uh uh” he taunted. “Don’t run away from me. It is too late for that now.”
You gulped. Oh, the things his voice was doing to you, and he could tell.
His touch was burning you. The skin to skin contact becoming too much, but at the same time not enough. You needed him somewhere else, somewhere you couldn’t reach properly, not even alone in your bedroom, with no one but yourself and your running mind.
You knew he would make you see colors, but you needed to feel it, to sense it. You needed him to touch you, more than he was touching you now.
He inched his face closer, the air coming out of his barely open mouth hitting your face. The cologne he was wearing entering your system, like a drug, making you more obsessed of what you already were.
He stared down at you, running his eyes through your face, enjoying the reaction, the control, he had on you. You couldn’t help but do the same, staring at him through your half lidded eyes, drinking him in, inhaling him, feeling his chest touch yours with every breath he took.
The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, the temperature rising by the second. If neither of you took it to the next level, you feared you could explode.
The man moved the hand that was holding your chin to grasp your neck lightly, leaving his thumb free to run it across your skin. Beginning on your pulse point of your neck, pressing lightly, making a whimper escape your lips, despite your efforts of keeping it in.
His lips curled up, enjoying every little reaction he coaxed out of you. His thumb continued exploring your skin, caressing your cheek and continuing on your bottom lip. His eyes were focused on the trace of his finger, amazed at how your saliva coated his thumb.
The teasing was becoming unbearable, making you act. Gaining courage you grabbed his right wrist, keeping his hand close to your mouth, while licking his thumb, before sucking it between your lips.
For a split second, his smirk fell off his face, eyes opening, amazed and surprised by your actions. His eyes became hungry, darkening. His left hand grasped your waist harder, squeezing your flesh.
You continued sucking his thumb, moving your tongue along it, trying to not break eye contact, daring him to do the next move.
The thrill of getting caught made the situation so much hotter, your mind running with all the places he could take you in, the you *wish* he would take you in.
The man pressed his thumb into your tongue, catching you off guard, making you moan around him, closing your eyes. He used his thumb and index finger to grab your tongue and pull it out of your mouth lightly before moving forward and clashing his lips with yours.
The kiss was messy, hungry, hot. Teeth clashing against teeth, lips moving against lips, tongues fighting for dominance. You moaned into his mouth, the taste of him being exactly how you imagined.
He took the opportunity to enter your mouth, exploring it. His hands moved to your head, keeping it in place. One of his hands was on your neck, putting pressure lightly while the other played with your hair.
Your mind became fussy, the intensity of the kiss pushing all the thoughts out of your head, the only thing on your brain was **him**. Your hands started to wonder, starting at his chest, down to his tone abs and onto his head, playing with his perfect brown locks.
You pressed your body against him, your tits against his firm chest. The action making him moan in your mouth, making you smile.
His hand on your head grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you backwards, away from his mouth lightly. You both were breathing heavily against each other, mouths still at each other’s reach. Your eyes were closed, not daring to open them, hoping this was only the beginning.
“Nena,” he said, breathlessly.
“Mmm”
“Look at me,” he demanded.
Opening your eyes slowly you were met with his. His hair was messy, thanks to you playing with it, his mouth merely centimeters away from you, looking plump from all the kissing.
You saw his mouth moving, clearly talking to you, but you were too dazed.
He pulled at your hair, making you look straight into his eyes.
“Sweetheart”
“Mmm”
“I said,” he continued. “Is there a better place for us to continue? I would take you right here, but I fear that there are a lot of prying eyes, and I want you all to myself.”
You looked at him with an open mouth, losing the ability to speak. *He wanted to continue*. He looked at you with a smirk on his face.
“Did the baby lose the ability to speak?” he mocked.
“I-” you gulped, your mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. “The-there is a backroom.”
“Good girl.” he smiled. “Show me.”
You nodded at the best of your ability with his grip on your hair. He let you go. The second his touch left your body you missed it, feeling empty.
You stepped back, your hands falling from his chest. Staring at his hungry eyes you could see he was becoming impatient, and so were you.
Carefully, you grabbed his right hand, tugging it towards you, signalling him to follow you. You walked towards the backroom, a million thoughts running through your mind.
You were fucked, you were so fucked. If another client entered those doors and caught you two in this situation, you were fucked. You would lose your job, and probably no other job would take you. But, honestly? Who the fuck cares? This was a once in a lifetime chance.
You had a Greek god behind you, who was willing to make you feel like never before. Among those thoughts were the things he could do to you. Whatever he did, you knew he was going to be good.
You reached the backroom closed door. You put your free hand on it, and looked back at him, making sure he was still there, despite feeling his warmth in the palm of your hand. You locked eyes with the guy, before looking past him to the front door, the fear of getting caught still on you back of your mind.
“Hey,” he said, snapping you out of your thoughts, your eyes staring back at him. “We are fine. I am going to take care of you.”
You wanted to believe him, oh so desperately. You were ready to throw yourself in his arms. The way he affirmed that statement making you feel safe, taken care of.
You smile shyly before nodding and making the final push on the door, opening it.
He let go of your hand, grabbing your waist and urging you into the small room, hurrying into himself before shutting the door, leaving the outside world behind.
“This is much better,” he talked into the darkness, the only source of light being the small gap between the door and the floor and wall. “I wish I could see you better though.” His hand never left your body, caressing the skin of your sides and front, becoming bolder.
Desperately, you tried to find the cord connected to the lamp on the roof. You needed to see him too, you wanted to see him in all his glory. Reaching across the air you grabbed the cord and pulled, the room becoming illuminated instantly.
Smiling, you looked at him, finding him already staring at you. He looked you up and down before licking his lips, the action making you nervous.
He stepped towards you, determination clear in his eyes. You walked back into the table behind you, your back hitting its side, trapping you between it and his body.
“I thought,” he said, grabbing your waist harshly, grasping at your flesh, making you yelp from the sudden action. “I’ve told you not to run away.”
“Am not.” you said, placing the palm of your hands on his chest, pushing back a little to stare at his face.
The man smirked, before pulling you towards him and taking your bottom lip between his, sucking at it, making you moan into his mouth. Both his hands were now exploring your body. Your hips, your waist, your back, your neck, every part of your body was being touched by him, except where you needed him most.
“Siir-” pulling back from the kiss, you whined not knowing his name. *How could you forget to ask that?*
“What’s wrong baby?” he said, caressing your cheek tenderly, far different from the touches he was giving you a few seconds ago while exploring your mouth with his tongue.
“I need you.” you said shyly, scared of meeting his gaze.
“Yeah?” he smirked, his lips brushing against yours, taunting you.
“Mmm” you nodded, not thinking clearly, his smell surrounded you, intoxicating you. The taste of him lingering on your mouth, your brain asking for more, your heart about to explode.
He chuckled, amused by how desperate you were, but so was he, you could feel it.
The man grabbed your neck, pulling you back again against him. His mouth coming in contact with your again messily. Your hands, that were on his chest, surrounded his neck, playing with the hair behind it, twirling, pulling, making him moan in your mouth, giving you the opportunity to explore him with your tongue.
His hands on your body moved to your hips, pulling you up. The sudden movement surprised you, making you bite his bottom lip, making him groan. He placed you on the table, your legs wrapping around his waist, just where they belonged.
He pulled back hissing, a slight cut on his bottom lip, a bit of blood pooling out of it. He touched his lip with his fingers, drawing out some blood.
“Cheeky,” he smirked, before smashing his lips with yours, smiling into the kiss. The taste of blood combined with his made you moan. The friction of your bodies was more intense thanks to the new position. You could feel his hard on brushing against your core with every push and pull of your bodies.
He for sure could feel how wet you were, the only barrier between the front of his jeans and your heat being your panties, thanks to your skirt being pulled up thanks to him.
His hands fell to your legs, massaging your outer upper thighs, squeezing the flesh, teasing you. His kisses moved to the corner of your mouth to your cheek and down to your neck, finding your sweet spot immediately, just as you two were meant to be from the start.
You pulled at his hair, making him groan and grind his body against yours, pulling a moan out of you, his hard on brushing against your clit with every thrust of his hips. His lips sucking at the skin of your neck. You moved your head to the side, leaving him more room.
You were panting now, his touch, his lips, his scent, him, was all you could think of. Your mouth opened and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your chest rising and falling, as your hardened nipples rubbed against his chest.
His hands moved to your inner legs, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. You could swear your wetness was spilling out of your panties and onto the wood of the table. You should be embarrassed, but you couldn’t care less.
Getting tired of your neck, the man moved his kisses down the center of your throat to the valley of your breasts. Moving one hand from your thighs to grasp one of your tits, making you arch your back, giving your all to him.
While one of his hands was massaging the skin on your inner thigh, the other was massaging your breast, his thumb caressing your hardened nipple through the material of your top and bra. Moans were spilling left and right from your chest, followed by whines and whimpers begging him to do more, to touch you properly.
“Sir, please.” you whined, out of breath. “Take it off, please.” you begged, shutting your eyes tightly, focusing on the feeling on his hands across your skin.
“Anything you want” he answered, detaching his lips from the skin of your chest, where he had been carefully sucking a hickey.
Straightening himself up, he grabbed the ends of your top, pulling it upwards, signalling you to put your hands up. And so you did, letting him pull the top over your head, leaving behind a layer of clothes between you two.
He groaned, after tossing your top behind, having a clearer look at your chest.
“You are so damn beautiful” he whispered, caressing your new exposed skin with the back of his fingers.
Using both his hands, he pulled the straps of your bra down, giving him access to your naked shoulders. Carefully, he inched closer, giving slight pecks on your skin, moving from your shoulder to your neck, and down to the other shoulder. You shudder, feeling exposed.
You pulled him closer, grabbing the fabric of his tank tops, slipping your hands beneath them, wanting to touch his warm skin. He hissed, feeling the contact of your cold hand compared to the skin of his torso. You could feel the muscles move beneath the palm of your hand, caressing his abs and chest and back again. He got the message, pulling back from your embrace, he grabbed his shirts and took them off, leaving him topless in front of you, in all his glory.
“Like what you see?” he smirked, clearly seeing your wide eyes and open mouth.
You bit your lip, and nodded, a smile creeping its way on your face. He chuckled before attacking your chest again with his lips, sucking the skin on top of your breast between his lips, biting it. You arched your back, the feeling too intense, but not enough.
His hands slipped behind your back, undoing the back of your bra, letting it fall. The cold air hit your chest, your nipples hardening further. Thankfully, the man grasped one tit in each of his big hands, massaging them, keeping them warm, making you moan from the friction.
Not long after, he replaced one of his hands with his lips, sucking your nipple into his mouth. His mouth was warm, the feeling shooting right to your core. You needed him to be down there. You were growing desperate, all the teasing was becoming too much for you to handle. Every second he spent far from your core was torture.
You used your hands to pull his hair, pulling his lips away from your breasts, while also pushing his shoulder down, trying to signal him to go downwards.
He pulled back, smirking, looking up at you smiling like the devil, while you panted, looking at him through half lidded eyes.
He kissed down your stomach, reaching the waistband of your skirt. The man pulled your legs on top of his shoulders, giving him full access to your pussy. Pulling your skirt up, he came in contact with your wet panties. He pulled them to the side, watching the wetness spill into the table. He groaned, delighted by the sight.
He used his fingers to gather as much as he could, before putting them on his mouth and sucking. Closing his eyes he moaned at the taste.
He grabbed your panties, pulling them down your legs, before diving right in into your heat. He took your clit into his mouth, kissing it, sucking, making you see stars. He used his tongue, pushing it and pressing at it.
“Siirr,” you moaned, arching your back, you pushed yourself closer to his mouth, and pressed your head against the wall behind you. You used your hands to keep him there, pulling at his hair, pressing his mouth closer.
He groaned into you, the vibrations making you whimper. He moved downwards, his tongue entering you. His muscle moving with experience, hitting all the right places. Your legs began to shake, your muscles turning into jelly, the pressure on your lower belly becoming stronger and stronger, like a ticking bomb, about to explode.
The man continued to explore your insides, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously, making you grind against him, trying to reach your high.
He pulled back, out of breath, your juices covering his chin, mouth, and nose. He moved his thumb to press circles against your clit, keeping you in that spot, still stimulating you, but not enough to push you over the edge.
“Pleasee,” you begged, wanting him back in your heat.
“Shhh, darling, I got you”
He dived right in, replacing his thumb with his mouth and pushing one finger into your hole, stretching you out. You moaned at the feeling, the pressure on your belly rising. He didn’t give you time to adjust, pushing another finger in, and then another, moving them in and out of you at a fast speed, hitting all the right places.
“Sirr, I-” you began, but you were unable to continue when a moan interrupted you. Your vision became blurry and your legs began to shake. You came around his fingers and onto his mouth, your body aching into him.
You shut your eyes, trying to regain control of your breathing. Panting rapidly you didn’t realize the man had stood up, leaving your heat. Your chest was rising up and down still, but you managed to open your eyes slowly.
Before you, he stood, face covered in your juices, his hard on prominent on his jeans.
“Do you-” you swallowed, still trying to catch your breath. “Do you need help with that, handsome?” you smirked.
He mimicked your expression, walking again between your legs.
“If you are up for it, beba” he said, right in front of your mouth. So close you could almost touch his lips with your own.
You wrapped your legs around his waist again, caging him and your arms around his neck before moving forward and capturing his lips in yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you moan, the kiss growing hungrier by the second.
Your nails dug at his back, scratching it. You moved your hands forward, towards his chest, running your nails through his skin, feeling the muscles rippled with every movement. You reached the waistband of his jeans, undoing his belt and the button of his trousers, pulling the zipper down.
While one hand moved towards the back of his head, keeping him close to your mouth, the other went downwards, massaging his dick through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, making you smile for a split second before biting his bottom lip and pulling it. You moved towards his neck, sucking at it, while your hand wandered into his briefs, tugging at his cock, cupping his balls.
He threw his head back, groaning, giving you a good view of his Adam apple bobbing thanks to his hard swallowing. He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand out of his pants, before pulling them down completely, letting his dick free, it hitting his lower stomach, once it came out of his boxers.
You stared at it, dumbfounded. His cock bigger than you had imagined, you didn’t know if you would be able to fit it in, but you needed it inside you.
He grabbed his dick, pumping it before putting it in contact with your pussy, spreading your lips with his tips, coating it with your juices. His precum was mixing with yours.
With one hand on the table beside you, he fell forwards, resting his head against yours. Both of you looked downwards, where your bodies were about to connect, watching him move his tip back and forth, and pressing it against your clit.
After teasing for a little more, he positioned himself in front of your hole.
“Are you ready?” He said, looking right into your eyes.
You look back and forth between his eyes, before nodding against him.
At your confirmation, he pushed his tip into your hole, the stretch being too much. You threw your head back, shutting your eyes. You bit your lip, trying not to let a sound out. The man latched at your neck, sucking at it, distracting you from the pain of his dick stretching your walls while entering you.
He grabbed your waist harshly, your walls pulsating and swallowing him in oh so heavenly. You grabbed his shoulders, trying to stay on this Earth, his dick making you see stars, and he wasn’t even all in.
He continued pushing, despite your whimpers and whines, knowing you could handle it. Once your hips were together, you let out a big breath, one you didn’t know you were holding. He lift himself up from your neck, being at eye level with you.
“Mmm, move.” you whined, opening your eyes slightly, looking at him.
He nodded, not being able to talk thanks to your tightness. He used both his hands to grab your waist to keep you in place. He pulled back, a small part of his dick leaving your pussy to be pushed back in again. He repeated the movement a couple of times before finding a steady rhythm.
The only sounds being heard in the room were the slapping of skin against skin and your heavy breathing. His hips grinding into yours, his balls hitting your ass rapidly. The man was pulling all his cock out before pulling it back in with force, hitting your sweet spot every time, making you moan uncontrollably. You scratched his back, trying to sit upright, his movements making you shake and bounce on the table.
Every now and then he would kiss your lips, before going down and kissing your neck and breasts, overstimulating you. His pace was becoming irregular. He was close, and so were you. He pecked your lips, before resting his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your face with every pant. His chest was rising up and down.
“Yes, right there” you moaned, brushing against his.
He groaned. “You-” he whimpered. “You like that?” he continued grinding his hips against yours.
“Yeah” you said, out of breath, nodding.
“Are you coming beba?”
“Mmm”
You shut your eyes, basking the feeling of him inside you, him around you. Just all of him. The pressure on your belly was about to snap again, only this time more intense than before. The man let go of your waist with one of his hands to rub circles on your clit. Your legs wrapped around his waist began to shake, becoming loose. You began to grind against him, chasing your high, your breasts brushing against his chest, your nails digging on his back, your moans getting caught by his kisses.
Just when you were about to come, the bell on top of the door rang and you heard the sound of low battery coming from your mp3.
Snapping your eyes open, you saw the Greek god of a man walking away from the store, after closing the door behind him, making the bell jingle.
You were in the same position as when he had entered; elbow resting on the counter, chin resting on the palm of your hand. Your mp3 had run out of battery, and all the events of this mystery man made you his, lost with it. The only reminder of that man was the wetness between your legs. A heat that you knew you wouldn’t be able to calm down when your shift was finished. Not even when you were under the covers, naked, imagining the man who just left your movie store.
HIII GUYSSS!!! I am so sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Honestly, I was soo sick, I could barely stand up from the bed to eat. Anyway, hope you like this!! It is my first time writing smut, so it might be a little rough on the eyes, sorry there!!
Anyway, I based this on the song I linked above. I really encourage you to listen to it! It is in Spanish, but it is really good!!
I hope that after writing this I can sit down and write Chapter 2 of the Soulmate AU. I promise I will finish it, I won't leave you hanging. I will keep you posted about how it goes.
hi hi hi !! write a list of 5 songs you like listening too and post it, once you’ve done that share this on to either 10 followers or moots !! have a good day ❤️
MORE SONGS MORE SONGS!
1. This song is hawt and it's sexy to me, and it's so good.
2. Going down YouTube up next videos, found this song, and I love the animation and the song is a bangerrrr.
3. I love this song. That contemporary jazz, that Sade feel, Lyn's voice, beautiful as ever. It's so lounge club and I am here for it.
4. The first time I heard this song was in a Sega game called Samba De Amigo, and they had such a great array of music from Spanish to Brazilian to Caribbean style music, and all the songs on there are all so good! ..... too bad the new one doesn't have that same feel...
5. Gorillaz, I enjoy this band, and I remember I was blasting the hell out of this song when it was dropped.
When u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers or moots (positivity is cool)
It's Cookie! I'm going by anon <3
Hey, heyy~ Time for more songs~ Get to have you all indulge in my music >:]]
1. Late 80s/early 90s British dance electro music?? Heck yee.
2. Ahhh the 2010s. This has been randomly bought back into my head.
3. Wanna know something fun? I first heard her in the Gorillaz's song She's My Collar, but didn't really delve into her music until a YouTube ad of Moonlight caught my attention 😅.
4. I also jam to Shattered Dreams, but this one is also a good ass time.
5. I don't know about BTS, as my friend (you know who you are) was showing me some of the boys' styles of music when they're solo. And we decided to see RM's new music, and my gosh, this music video was wild and fun and I genuinely liked this song (and some of the others).
Warnings: none, fluff, established relationship, xGN!reader. Words 1k
A/n: random inspiration struck me so enjoy 🍿
I think Miguel's the kind of guy that needs glasses but refuses to get them or admit his eyesight is that bad. You've noticed it steadily getting worse over time. He squints whenever you two go out, his brow furrowed at the tiny lettering at the fast food menus and signage. Normally, when he's driving he has a heavy foot on the gas pedal, borderline fearing for your life when he's behind the wheel, but now he's been going the speed limit as of late, oddly uncharacteristic of him.
He's leaning forward, his comically larger frame hunched over, squinting as you drive in the dark. You clutch the "oh shit" handle on the car ceiling when he skirts to the right and nearly misses your exit, deciphering the muddied signage at the last minute.
"That's it, I'm booking you that damn eye appointment." You sigh, massaging your temples as your blood pressure slowly descends a few notches from the whiplash as the car gradually coasts to a stop.
"I don't need shocking glasses." Miguel insists, a frown painting his face.
But, his demands won't get him anywhere this time.
As you sit in the dark eye exam room together a few days later, he finds himself a little stressed out and overwhelmed at the eye test, blinking rapidly when the optometrist flicks the florescent lights of the room back on, murmuring he'll be right back with the prescription.
When the door shuts, Miguel runs a hand through his hair with a sigh and hangs his head like a balloon deflated of helium. You give him a sympathetic look, laying your hand on the nape of his neck, lightly massaging his warm skin.
"You good?"
"No, that was the worst test of my entire life." He gruffs, closing his eyes. "How the shock are you supposed to tell the difference between the lenses anyway? They look the exact same!"
You give him a flat lipped grin, shrugging your shoulders. "I'm sorry, love."
Miguel sighs again, massaging his temples. "It's okay, but now I have a shocking headache...."
He pauses, resting his eyes as you continue affectionately tugging at the curls on the back of his neck. "Thanks for being here..." He murmurs sincerely.
"Anytime, love."
A short while later, you're musing silently to yourself as you watch him try on pair after pair of glasses. He glares and furrows his brow at his reflection as though he's suspicious of himself, or seeing someone he vaguely remembered from his past for the first time in years.
You just watch him with a tender smile playing on your lips. He looked good in everything.
Finally, he seems to settle on some simple, narrow, black frames that look so small in his big hands. He pauses, balancing them on the bridge of his nose, going slightly cross-eyed as he pushes them up with one finger until they smack in the middle of his face. He blinks, and looks at his reflection, his shoulders relaxing slightly, a hint of his silent approval.
"How...how do they look?" He asks you, hesitantly.
You tilt your head, unsure of where this sudden unsureness is coming from.
"I don't look like....a giant nerd, do I?" He whispers, almost as if he's a patient waiting for a terminal diagnosis and you're the doctor.
"What? No..." You shake your head, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh. "You use words like arachnohumanoid polymultiverse and you have a genetics degree. You're the biggest nerd I've ever met. Only now, you have the sexy glasses to match."
Miguel glares and rolls his eyes. "Oh please..." He pauses after a moment, a very faint trace of amusement starting to poke through on his face. "...you said you think they're sexy?"
You chuckle and snort and shake your head. "Of course that's the only part you'd pay attention to."
"Hmph. Well if I'm being forced into wearing glasses full time now, I want to make sure I look semi-decent."
"You can wear contacts you know. Ooh! We should get you some colored ones!"
Miguel raises an eyebrow. "What, my naturally red irises aren't good enough for you? And don't you dare suggest some weird color like fuschia or moose knuckle beige or whatever made-up names you have for your wacky color schemes. I refuse to be constantly compared to Emilio or whatever the hell his name is."
"Pfffft you mean Edward??!!"
"Same difference."
"There's a big difference!" You clutch your imaginary pearls. "I know what we're watching again when we get home!"
"We'll do no such thing." Miguel smirks. "It's my turn to pick for movie night. And besides, I've been through enough torture for one day."
You blow air out of your nose and shake your head. "Fine. You have a point. But in that case, I'm not cooking, then."
Miguel raises his eyebrows then gives you a cheeky grin. "Oh?" He thinks for a moment then raises the white flag with a sigh. Cooking right after having lights shined in his eyes and being forced to read random letters for almost an hour straight sounded worse than rewatching Twilight. And that was saying a lot.
"You drive a hard bargain..." He folds his glasses, stowing them in the velvet case. "I'll watch Edgar and Jason fight over Beatrice for the umpteenth time in a row, if my darling, beautiful, lovely, amazing partner cooks dinner tonight?"
You give him a huge smile as he pecks your forehead. "Yay! Deal. You're in luck because it's gourmet frozen chicken tenders, boxed mac and cheese, and canned green beans on the menu tonight!"
Miguel pulls you into his chest as you walk to the car. "And I'll eat it all with the biggest smile on my face and a grateful heart. But I would prefer the SpongeBob mac and cheese in lieu of Velveeta this time, if I may so humbly request."
"You got it, mister." You slap your hand in his as he helps you into the passenger seat of the car.
"Thanks, baby."
"You're welcome."
He smiles victoriously as he closes the car door behind you before he gets into the driver's seat, hoping to beat the rush hour home.
Spiders are some very freaky sex deviants. Just a little something on how I think Miguel would let a couple of those spider sensations come out during sexy times.
My first time trying a drabble. I'm not used to writing something short like this, but here I go~
You've been wanting to incorporate some of the spider mating rituals you read about, simply because you were curious. You remember easing your findings during dinner, catching him a bit off guard.
“Is this what you do during your off days and when I'm not around?”
“Always good to know random trivia.” You chuckled nervously, taking a bite out of the takeout in front.
Miguel was silent for a bit, not easing your anxiousness at all. Maybe curiosity did kill the cat, well, the spider in this case. Ready to laugh it off, pretending that you were joshing around, he sighed out.
“Alright. Tell me what you learned.”
That startled you. You weren't expecting that. You were already delving into the rabbit hole of if what you did was overstepping boundaries, but he tapped the table and called your name.
“Will you tell me, or do you prefer to have it demonstrated hands on?”
So he confirmed your intrigued nature. You decided to not tell him, but act out how the female spider would act out during these said rituals. Getting ready and prepared in the bathroom then settled on the bed. You didn't alert him when he could come in, instead you sat there and waited for him to come, waited for him to come to you.
He didn't move from the living room for almost five minutes, when he got a whiff of the Sol de Janeiro Cheirosa 59. You only pulled that out for special occasions, so tonight was extra special. Trekking to the room, he opens the door, but doesn't stick his head through.
“Mi reina? Everything okay?” Miguel croaked out.
“Hm, is that a prey or something more?” You hum out, earning a groan for him.
Miguel taps the door a couple of times, alerting you that he wants to mate, and you signal him to come in. Miguel walks in, but stands there, and refuses to move an inch, eyeing you in your silky, short nightgown. You remember that some female spiders have to approach the male, and slide yourself off, but tantalizingly slow. You swore you already saw a drop of a sweat roll down his forehead.
Standing in front, Miguel began to stroke your face down to your breasts, your curves, stomach, and hips. His pupils are huge and before you know it, you find yourself on your back of the mattress, legs spread apart with Miguel making out with your exposed cunt.
He usually takes his time, but tonight, it was a whole other ballgame. You did read that there are spiders that like to give oral, and Miguel was no stranger to it.
His tongue whirling like a maniac, jutting in and out and picking up the pace whenever you felt your walls clamp around it. Your legs could barely move because Miguel held them down. You got an idea and started to try and close. Sometimes male spiders like to bind the female spider, not enough to keep her immobilized, but to ease.
So why not test it out?
You used a bit of strength to push his grip when you heard the famous thwip, and sure enough, you were tied to the bed. His mouth was glistening with his spit and juices, and his eyes had a primal glare.
“Shh, don't worry, relax, relax. I got you.” Miguel leaned back down, mouth wide open and went right back to eating you out. The way his jaw was opening and closing at an insane speed on your vulva had you seeing the multiverse.
Now you needed to dig deeper on what else freaky things spiders are into.
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