Stranger Things
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Love Begins
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we're not kids anymore.
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cherry valley forever
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@heroinnne
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# far # 5teen, she/her # masterlist
requests : open
— recent !
- for the long term, ft. miguel o'hara
- cover, ft. bucky barnes
- okay, ft. marc spector
© — heroinnne.tumblr all rights reserved, do not repost, plagiarize or recreate in anyway
is the atsv fandom even still alive bro 😭
this blog is not doing so good is it, lmao
REQUESTS GUIDELINES !
— i only write for female or gender neutral readers
— i write for all spiderverse character and most marvel characters, if there is a character that i'm unable to write for, it will be added to this post
— what i won't write for is, extremely dark content, yandere, nsfw, only suggestive content can be written but not full on nsfw
— i won't be writing requests that don't fit my standard or requests that i don't have much inspiration for
— lastly, please be polite throughout your request <33
you walk with your head down at work the next morning.
after having kissed your boss, the infamous miguel o'hara, you’re not sure you could really walk with your head up.
of course, word had gotten around the office that you left the party with miguel, and well, your coworkers teased and taunted you about it, you tried to ignore their comments, really, but the blush on your cheeks was prominent enough, and well, every time they said something you remembered the kiss, and how great it was.
so, you walked with your head down throughout the office.
that is, until you stumbled into someone.
slamming into their body, you drop the stack of papers you were holding, quickly, ‘i’m sorry’s spill from your lips until you hear a familiar voice say, “it’s fine.”
looking up, lo and behold, it’s none other than miguel.
of course, the universe loves playing its sick and twisted game on you.
“miguel — i mean, sir.” you gulp. a blush quickly spreads to your cheeks, “sorry.” you clear your throat and quickly gather your papers, stand up and ready to leave.
“y/n.” he says, “why don’t you join me at my office.”
you don’t know what else to do but oblige.
you follow him to where his office is, and once you’re there, he shuts the door behind you, then heads to his wine rack, holds up a bottle and a glass, “drink?” he asks and you shake your head.
he shrugs and pours himself a glass.
a beat of awkward silence passes and your heart thumping in your chest.
finally, you can’t take it anymore, “uhm, listen, i’m so sorry for kissing you last night, i was drunk and stupid and — ” he cuts you off with a chuckle, a deep rich sound it is and you feel your face warming up.
“y/n,” he chides, “there is no need to apologize.”
he steps closer to you, so close you can smell his strong cologne and your heart is doing cartwheels, because, and you may not like to admit it, but you may have developed a big, fat crush on your ceo.
“i’m sorry — ” he shushes you, and he cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head up, “what did i just say?”
your eyes widen and god dammit your heart is racing, and your face is so hot, “right, i’m — right.”
he smirks down at you, “you didn’t even give me a chance to continue,” he says, “sweetheart, i loved that kiss.”
your breath hitches “really?” you utter out in a surprised whisper.
“yeah.” he hums, a smile on his lips, “c’mere.” he says, “may i?” and all you could do is nod.
he places a hand on your waist and pulls you closer, and his lips press against yours, and you’re sober enough this time to take in every detail of this moment, how plump his lips are, how he tastes like coffee, how his hands are slithering up our back and how your hands are finding their way to his hair, tugging and pulling at it to deepen the kiss,
and just how perfect this moment is.
i ii
tagging : @spdrvyn @3zae-zae3 @guilty-pleasures21
you walk with your head down at work the next morning.
after having kissed your boss, the infamous miguel o'hara, you’re not sure you could really walk with your head up.
of course, word had gotten around the office that you left the party with miguel, and well, your coworkers teased and taunted you about it, you tried to ignore their comments, really, but the blush on your cheeks was prominent enough, and well, every time they said something you remembered the kiss, and how great it was.
so, you walked with your head down throughout the office.
that is, until you stumbled into someone.
slamming into their body, you drop the stack of papers you were holding, quickly, ‘i’m sorry’s spill from your lips until you hear a familiar voice say, “it’s fine.”
looking up, lo and behold, it’s none other than miguel.
of course, the universe loves playing its sick and twisted game on you.
“miguel — i mean, sir.” you gulp. a blush quickly spreads to your cheeks, “sorry.” you clear your throat and quickly gather your papers, stand up and ready to leave.
“y/n.” he says, “why don’t you join me at my office.”
you don’t know what else to do but oblige.
you follow him to where his office is, and once you’re there, he shuts the door behind you, then heads to his wine rack, holds up a bottle and a glass, “drink?” he asks and you shake your head.
he shrugs and pours himself a glass.
a beat of awkward silence passes and your heart thumping in your chest.
finally, you can’t take it anymore, “uhm, listen, i’m so sorry for kissing you last night, i was drunk and stupid and — ” he cuts you off with a chuckle, a deep rich sound it is and you feel your face warming up.
“y/n,” he chides, “there is no need to apologize.”
he steps closer to you, so close you can smell his strong cologne and your heart is doing cartwheels, because, and you may not like to admit it, but you may have developed a big, fat crush on your ceo.
“i’m sorry — ” he shushes you, and he cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head up, “what did i just say?”
your eyes widen and god dammit your heart is racing, and your face is so hot, “right, i’m — right.”
he smirks down at you, “you didn’t even give me a chance to continue,” he says, “sweetheart, i loved that kiss.”
your breath hitches “really?” you utter out in a surprised whisper.
“yeah.” he hums, a smile on his lips, “c’mere.” he says, “may i?” and all you could do is nod.
he places a hand on your waist and pulls you closer, and his lips press against yours, and you’re sober enough this time to take in every detail of this moment, how plump his lips are, how he tastes like coffee, how his hands are slithering up our back and how your hands are finding their way to his hair, tugging and pulling at it to deepen the kiss,
and just how perfect this moment is.
i ii
“it's our cover.”
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
and everything is just so right at this moment.
miguel being comforting during your period mood swings | drabble
very fluffy. hurt/comfort. reader is a spider-person. projecting MASSIVELY in this one. my bad guys! author had a very bad not good day so this is to ease my nerves a little, enjoy and eat up
Miguel had very much noticed when it started. Your avoidance of him started somewhere around 3 days ago, whenever he made attempts to talk to you, you'd be feeding him as little as possible. It irked him to say the least and he missed you and when he felt like looking at you, you just weren't there.
“it's our cover.”
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
and everything is just so right at this moment.
hii! if anybody wants to join my taglist to be notified of my works pls do send in the inbox ! thank you <33
“it's our cover.”
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
and everything is just so right at this moment.
taglist : @spdrvyn
“it's our cover.”
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
and everything is just so right at this moment.
hi! can i just say that your drabbles are super duper cute... i love them sm, i read them before i go to bed like a bedtime story... i'd love to be part of your taglist ^_^ ♡
hiii! yes of course! and thank you so much for the compliment <333
you and miguel ended on really bad terms
it’s not that he was a bad boyfriend or anything — well, he kind of was, he just wasn’t that bad, he was loving, sure, sweet at times, brought you gifts whenever he could, introduced you to some of his friends but, he had a really bad habit of prioritizing work above anything else.
work was always at the top for miguel, it was practically his entire life — he spent most of his hours either at his alchemax or at his office at your shared apartment, writing reports and whatnot.
that, of course, resulted with him spending less time with you.
over the span of the two years you dated him in, no matter how many times you chided and scolded him about it, he never changed his habit and when you finally at your peak, you blew up at him.
and after a really, really bad fight, things ended on really, really bad term.
it took you a while to get over him, but after some time and some wine, you finally did.
so now, why is he at the same bar as you, beating up a guy that was feeling you up?
you’re standing there, stunned with your drink in your hand watching the scene unfold before you, watching as miguel beats the absolute crap out of that perv’s face.
eventually, some people crowd up against them, and manage to separate miguel off of the guy, by that time, you’ve drawn yourself out of the bar.
unfortunately ( fortunately ) miguel manages to catch up to you.
he calls out your name and it stops you and you turn around to focus on him and he catches up to you.
his hand finds its way to your waist, and a concerned frown is etched on his face, “are you okay?”
you clear your throat, a slight blush on your face from the contact, “yeah.”
miguel notices his hand is at a place it shouldn’t be, and he quickly retract it — it’s not like he could’ve helped it though, given the fact that the two of you were ex-lovers, it was a force of habit.
a beat passes and he clears his throat. he asks, “are you sure?”
you try for a smile and nod your head, “i’m sure.”
another beat passes in silence, the both of you staring at each other, taking in each other’s appearance — you in a short red dress, with your hair and make up done, maybe you were he for a date, miguel thinks.
fuck, he’s missed you so much.
sure, it’s been six month since the break up, but miguel never really got over you.
he knew he fucked up big time when that fight happened, that fight that ended everything, miguel knew he was at fault yet he failed to admit that at the time.
maybe now he’s ready.
just when you turn and are about to leave, he grabs your arm, muttering a soft, “i’m sorry.”
your breath hitches, “come again?” you heard what he said, you just weren’t sure if you heard it right.
“i’m sorry.” he says again, his voice cleared this time, “for everything. for everything i’ve done. i’m sorry.”
and he means it, he misses you so bad and he’s matured enough now to suck up and admit his mistakes.
“i’m sorry for not giving you enough of my time, i’m sorry for putting work above you, i shouldn’t have done that and i know that i really fucked up.” he admits.
your heart is beating against your chest at his sincere words and apology, you know he’s being truthful with you right now.
“i miss you.” he admits, his voice soft.
a slight smile stretches at your lips, because against your bitter will, you missed him too.
“i miss you too.” and at your words, a smile finds its way to miguel’s lips.
“and i accept your apology.” you add.
he chuckles, and his heart is beating out of his chest with joy, “so we good?”
“yeah,” you smile at him, “i’ll give you a call sometime?"
hii! if anybody wants to join my taglist to be notified of my works pls do send in the inbox ! thank you <33
a drabble will be out tonight hopefully :)
the first time miguel met you, he was on patrol.
he saved you from a falling building that you were standing under with a dumbfounded expression on and unmoving — he managed to get you to safety but as soon as you were far away from danger, he was scolding you, telling you something about how you should get your damn legs moving when there’s rubble falling from above.
you had apologized at the time with a shaky voice, telling him how much you panicked that you froze — he only scoffed in response, mumbling about how you should be more careful before swinging away.
of course, at the time you only knew him as the snarky and rude spiderman of nueva york.
the second time miguel met you was on the sidewalk while he was heading for his job.
it was a nice morning, a soft breeze rippled his clothes and the sun kissed his skin warmly, he figured he'd stop for a coffee and that it wouldn’t hurt if he walked the way to the office, right?
before he knew it, your body was colliding with his and his coffee spilled to the ground ( thankfully not on his shirt, though ) he muttered a few curses in spanish, staring at the crumpled cup that used to be his drink, now spilled on the ground — it wasn’t until he registered the panicked apologies that he realized it was you.
the same civilian he saved a few days ago.
you looked out of place, in a rush with a white blouse that was half tucked into your black pants, your hair a bit of a mess as if you had just gotten out of bed.
you looked like you were late to work, and in your hurried steps, you had accidentally bumped into a stranger.
miguel told you that it was fine and you shouldn't worry about his coffee in a rather passive aggressive tone but that didn’t cut your apologies short and instead you offered to buy him another coffee and when he refused, you dragged him to the nearest coffeehouse anyway and insisted that you’d buy him another drink in compensation for the one you made him spill.
miguel figured he couldn’t refuse you at that point, you seemed rather insistent and stubborn, so he gave in to your offer and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have his spilled coffee replaced.
despite having his morning ruined by bumping into someone, you out of all people — he’d say his day went great actually.
the third time miguel met you was at a work party.
he thought the voice he heard talking to another coworker sounded all too familiar, so when he turned around to see who it was, surely enough it was you, in a pretty little panel skirt red dress — your hair and make up done almost too well, and you didn't look hurried or panicked like the last two times he had seen you, rather, you looked relaxed, confident even, a soft smile on your painted red lips, and sparkling eyes as you spoke to your colleague.
miguel's mouth was practically agape as he drank the sight of you in — how come you were so pretty?
well, you were always pretty, he thinks, it was just amplified now.
especially with the way that dress fitted your body so good — miguel wondered how he has never seen you at the office before.
miguel’s feet had a mind of their own because moments later he found himself walking over to you, drink in hand and offering it to you.
your eyes widened with recognition and you were immediately stumbling over your words, realizing he was the man you bumped into a week ago and spilled his coffee, but most importantly, the big bad scary boss of alchemax that you were meeting for the very first time, and he was offering you a drink.
you accepted it, of course.
two drinks later and you may have gotten too tipsy that you started telling him about how spiderman saved you one time, held you and scolded you. miguel could only laugh in response, because unbeknownst to you, they were the same person.
but then you started ranting about how you had the fattest crush on him and miguel almost choked on his drink — he knew if you were sober, you would've probably nqever said that out loud.
instead, he humored you, listened to you rant about the superhero and how attracted you were to him with an amused smile on his face — the first smile miguel had ever worn at the office.
of course, all of the other employees were stunned at how their boss seemed so relaxed and maybe even amused for the first time — considering how much he hated office parties, and the office in general.
several drinks later and at the end of the night, miguel was walking you out of the office building because you were too drunk not to trip over your own feet, he asked you if you had a ride home which you responded to with a slurred 'no'.
miguel decided, since he was a superhero, he’d save you just one more time and drive you home, to safety, just without the mask this time.
midway through the drive home, you started rambling on again, this time about how you thought miguel himself was attractive, he let out a surprised laugh, it sounded a bit choked before he decided to tease you and ask you why you thought he was attractive.
you shrugged, your cheeks flushed form the alcohol and eyes half lidded before you murmured, "you remind me of spiderman."
he only chuckled a bit in response to that, and decided to not push it any further so you wouldn't somehow uncover his secret identity in your drunken state.
fifteen minutes later and he was parked under your apartment building, at least the one you pointed at, he asked you if you could get up to your apartment on your own to which you gave him a sheepish smile and shook your head.
he decided that it wouldn't hurt if he helped you to your doorstep.
surely enough, it was a struggle to get you out of the car, your legs shook and you leaned all your weight on him, mumble out incoherent 'sorry's and 'excuse me's.
miguel held you against him, an entertained smile on his face — it's then end of the night, your make up has worn out a bit and your hair was gathered intona ponytail to keep it out of your face — and even though you looked dazed from the one too many drinks you had, miguel though you still looked pretty, too pretty.
he got you into the elevator and you pressed the key to your floor toy leaned on him for support, letting out a soft hiccup once in a while — "i'm not…always like this, i swear." you said in a quiet mumble, your words a quiet mumble. miguel laughed, shaking his head at you, "it's fine."
once you reached your floor, miguel helped you find your keys in your purse to open the door to your apartment — you managed so successfully, "I'm sure you'll be okay from here on out, yeah?" miguel asked, a hand on your back to support you still.
you nodded, turning to face him — a moment of silence passed with you just staring at him, before you leaned over to him, standing on your tippy toes and pressing your body against his, your lips touched his in a soft peck — though it was enough for him to get a taste of you, a whiff of your sweet perfume , and it was a little too much for him to process, the feel of your body against his, the softness of your lips fitted with his, and his heart was doing cartwheels.
you pulled away, gazing up at him, before softly murmuring "you're so pretty."
and then you smiled, walking into you apartment and shutting the door behind you, leaving miguel stunned and with the taste of you lingering on his lips.
fuck, you were too pretty.
