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#also let me know if you want translations of the spanish parts!
mickyschumacher · 7 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+
𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.
In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.
Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.
A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.
To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.
But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.
You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.
You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.
The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.
You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.
You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.
And that was that.
By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.
And you did.
It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.
"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.
Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.
You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.
Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.
You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.
"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.
You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."
You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.
That was kind of the point.
You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.
"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.
You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.
"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.
"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.
"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."
You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.
Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."
You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.
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Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.
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You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.
You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.
You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.
How did you even get here?
Right. The grocery store.
You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.
The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.
Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.
Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.
"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.
You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?
You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.
"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.
You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.
You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.
You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.
It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.
You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.
Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.
“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.
You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.
"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.
Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.
"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.
You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"
Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.
You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.
Okay... you got this.
"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."
The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."
You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."
Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."
"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.
Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."
"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.
Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."
You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."
"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"
"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."
The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."
Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.
You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.
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As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.
The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."
She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.
You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.
Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"
Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.
Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.
You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.
Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.
You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.
Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?
The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."
Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.
You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.
"Carlos–"
"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.
The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.
Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.
"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.
"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.
"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"
"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."
You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.
Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?
Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.
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The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.
Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.
With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.
"Carlos..." You called once again.
Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"
"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"
Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."
Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."
In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.
The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."
You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."
Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.
The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.
But you gladly would for him.
"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."
Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."
You raised a brow. "Am I?"
He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."
Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.
Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"
"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.
But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."
Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.
You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."
"What?" Carlos spluttered.
"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.
Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.
You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.
Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."
Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.
You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.
You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.
He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.
Christ.
You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.
"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.
Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.
You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.
Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"
You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."
Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.
You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them. You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.
You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.
Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?
Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.
He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.
You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.
Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.
A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.
"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.
Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"
Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.
"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.
"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."
Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.
Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.
Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.
You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.
"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.
You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."
Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.
With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.
Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.
Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.
"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.
Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.
You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.
Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."
Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."
Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."
You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.
The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."
Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.
Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.
A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.
Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.
With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.
Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.
"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.
"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.
You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.
Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.
"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.
The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.
You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.
Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.
"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."
"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.
Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.
You were going to be the death of him.
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
Text
bésame
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words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bilingual!reader, spanish dialogue (its not really translated but all the important parts are explained), rafe learning spanish
rafe sets down his briefcase, toeing off his shoes as his eyes scan the foyer for you, surprised that you don’t come running up to greet him like you normally do when he gets home.
“hola, baby!” he yells out, suddenly hearing a clatter from the kitchen before you stick your head into the hallway.
“hola, amor.” you smile. “just making tamales for dinner.”
“ahh.” rafe nods, the time consuming dish explaining why you were already working in the kitchen, filling the corn husk with ingredients before rolling them up.
“come keep me company?” you smile at him, batting your eyelashes in a way that always has rafe bending and agreeing to anything you ask him. “tell me about your day?”
“of course.” rafe walks the short distance in the hallway, pressing a kiss to your lips, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you close.
“missed you.” you hum against his lips. “te amo.”
rafe smiles back at you. he didn't know any spanish besides hola when he first began dating you. “te amo, amor.”
you give him a look, eyes widening slightly as you go back to working on your dish. “that pronunciation was shockingly good, rafey.”
“i may have been practicing a little.” rafe smirks, in truth he's been practicing a lot, working really hard to learn the language for you, even going as far as to hire a native speaker to meet with him on his lunch breaks.
“practicing, eh?” you smile, fingers effortlessly folding the tamale, having done it so many times. “how do you say eat, then?”
“comer.” rafe answers, without even having to think about it.
“¡no me digas!” you gasp in surprise. 
rafe laughs, a faint blush on his cheeks at the look of wonder and excitement in your eyes. “we… i mean uhh… vamos a comer tamales.”
“yes!” you squeal. “we are going to eat tamales!” you have to put the corn husk down, quickly washing your hands before moving over to rafe, touching his cheeks.
“you’re so good, cariño!” you have to get up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes lips. 
“i know that one.” rafe admits with a smile. its one of the first thing he had the instructor teach him, various pet names to call you. “sweetheart or darling. i also know mi vida, mi corazon. i even know princesa and uh..." it takes rafe a second, but the word for soul finally comes back to him, "mi alma."
“oh wow.” you could melt on the spot at the sweet words coming out of rafes mouth, only sounding even better in your natural language. “let me see if you know this one… bésame.”
it takes a second for the words to click, and then rafe smirks down at you, leaning in to press your lips together in a kiss, just like you asked for. his mouth dominates yours, turning your bodies so you’re the one leaning against the counter, trapped between rafes strong arms.
“quiero verte.” you whisper to rafe, tugging on his shirt. “i want to see you.”
rafe quickly pulls the shirt off over his head, his muscles on display for you to rub your hands over.
“how do i say undress me?” rafe asks, moaning lowly when your hands pass over his nipples.
“desvísteme.”
“undress you? okay. bueno.” rafe smirks as you let out a laugh, tricking you into being asked to be undressed. 
you raise your arms up so he can tug your shirt off, eyes widening when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. his hands cup your chest, playing with your tits as he finds his way back to your mouth, tongue running along your lower lip until his thumb swipes over your nipples and makes you gasp, finally allowing him entrance. 
“quiero probarte.” rafe whispers against your lips, your eyes widening when you realize what his words mean, still not used to hearing him speak in spanish. “quiero probarte, baby. can i take your shorts off?” “yeah, yeah.” you nod. you swear you must be dreaming, with rafe saying that he wants to taste you in spanish. you wonder who he asked, who gave him the translation, because as far as you know, the only spanish speaking people he knows is your family members, and while rafe is not easily embarrassed, even that's going too far for him.
rafe tugs at your shorts and underwear, letting them fall to the floor before you’re being lifted up onto the island counter, half-assembled tamales long forgotten as rafe bends, burying his face into your core without any delay.
his tongue laps at your entrance, tasting your juices as they build up. his mouth makes an obscene slurping noise, and you didn’t even realize how wet you’d gotten from hearing him speaking spanish, getting to communicate with him in such a beautiful language that you love so much.
he drags his tongue upward, flicking it against your clit. “te gusta?” rafe asks.
“yeah, yeah i like it!” you answer rafes question, head feeling fuzzy as he goes back to flicking over your clit before circling it teasingly, making you feel every nerve when he drags back over before his tongue finds its way down towards your entrance.
he gathers even more slickness on his tongue before dragging upward, using it as extra lubrication against your clit. he licks at your most sensitive area before tugging your clit between his lips, sucking it into his mouth.
you let out a squeal, reaching down to grip his hair in your hands to hold him in place, pressing his face further into you.
you can feel rafe chuckle against your skin at your clear excitement, but he doesn’t pull away, simply continuing to eat you out as you mumble a few curse words in spanish when his fingers press against your entrance.
hes slow when pressing his digit inside, counter to the speed and intensity of his lips on your clit. when he finally begins to pump it inside and out, your body relaxes, the familiar feeling allowing him to slip a second finger in.
rafe wastes no time scissoring his fingers, clearly needing to open you up quickly to get himself inside.
“fuck!” you shout out. “rafe, rafe, cógeme. cógeme, por favor.” rafe pulls away, looking up at you, clearly having not heard that word before. “fuck me!” you tell him in english, tugging on his hair slightly to encourage him to stand up, to take you.
rafes confusion turns into amusement, his grin spreading as he slowly raises, fingers continuing to thrust inside of you as your hands grab at his pants, undoing them as quickly as you can before shoving them down, rafes hard cock rising.
“tell me the truth, rafe.” you gasp as his fingers pull out, only momentarily feeling the gaping emptiness inside of you until rafes cock takes its place, filling you up effortlessly, the perfect amount of stretch to your walls to bring you the slightest hint of pain, that only increases your pleasure. “who is teaching you this?” “i may have hired someone to help me out on my lunch breaks.” rafe smirks, keeping his cock buried inside of you, your hips moving while sat on the edge of the marble counter, trying to entice him into thrusting. “no promises im ever gonna be fluent, but i figured its the least i could do. for you.”
“oh, rafe.” you feel tears well up into your eyes. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his lips. “i love you.”
“te amo.” rafe smiles down at you, your legs wrapping around him next, waiting for the thrusts to begin, but rafe remains still for a few more moments, letting you enjoy the soft, sweet moment.
it lasts as long as rafe can hold himself back until he suddenly pumps forward, hips thrusting up rapidly, glad that the island counter sits at the perfect height for him to fuck you at.
“oh, yes!” you moan out, nails raking down his back. “fuck, feels so good baby.” “yeah, can feel your tight little cunt squeezing me.” rafe moans as well, combined sounds filling the kitchen. 
“don’t know…” you try to get the words out, his cock repeatedly filling you, making you interrupt your sentence with gasps. “don’t know how long i’ll last.”
“yeah? my mouth and cock that good? need to cum already?” rafe loves how easily he can make you cum, how fast he can push you to the edge. it only turns him on more.
“sí.” you nod. “close, papí.”
rafe lets out a groan, his orgasm suddenly close from the use of that single word alone. “call me that again, baby girl.”
“papíííí.” you whine out, rafes hips pushing up, slapping against your skin as an orgasm suddenly forces out of you, cunt pulsating around rafe, pulling his own orgasm free.
“fuck.” you curse, before repeating it in spanish. “joder.”
“god, your pussy is perfect.” rafe says, pressing his lips against your cheek as the last of his cum is milked out. “how do you say that in spanish?” “nnn, i don’t know.” you groan. “my minds not working right now.”
“aww, pobrecita, all fucked out.” rafe laughs, pulling his cock out of you.
“your fault.” you grumble, feeling his cum leaking out onto the counter, but you need at least another minute of rafe holding you close before you care about the mess. “your fault dinner is gonna be late too.” you look at your workstation. “we’ll wash up and then i’ll help you.” rafe offers. “and you can teach me some more words in spanish.”
“fine, but you don’t need to learn any more dirty ones, niño travieso.”
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berry-potchy · 8 months
Text
Indulge Me
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)
Also on AO3
Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.
•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•
Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.
“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.
“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”
“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”
“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”
Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.
“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.
“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”
“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”
“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.
“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.
“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.
“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”
He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.
“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”
“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”
“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”
“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.
"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"
Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.
He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.
“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.
You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.
“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.
“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.
“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?
You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.
“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.
So close.
You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.
Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.
You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.
“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”
He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.
He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.
Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”
Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.
“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”
He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.
You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.
Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.
Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.
You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.
He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.
“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”
He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.
“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”
“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.
“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”
He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.
“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”
You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.
“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.
“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.
You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.
“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.
His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.
“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.
“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”
And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.
Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.
Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.
But he has more plans for you tonight.
He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.
“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.
“Hm?”
“... pull out.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.
“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”
That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.
“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.
“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”
“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.
“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”
You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.
“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.
“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”
You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”
He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.
“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.
“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”
You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.
You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?
You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.
You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.
"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.
"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”
He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.
You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.
“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”
Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.
“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”
You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.
“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”
His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.
“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”
And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.
“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.
A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.
Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.
The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.
“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.
“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”
“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”
“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.
“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”
Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.
You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.
You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.
Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.
“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”
He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.
“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.
He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.
“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”
“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”
He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.
•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•
Translations:
Que linda - how pretty
muñeca - doll
cariño - dear/darling
Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?
Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?
conejita - little rabbit
pobrecita - poor thing
que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)
Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this
Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me
Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love
Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.
mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)
coño - pussy
A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏
2K notes · View notes
recaltera · 1 month
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pretty when you beg
pairing: enzo vogrincic x fem reader
🏷 smut (minors dni) teasing, underwear kink(?), oral (f rec), overstim, orgasm countdown, orgasm control, hard dom enzo and kinda mean enzo if u squint, spitting
a/n: (IMPORTANT!!) hiii this is my first fic ever i hope u like it :D if u wanna i can also translate into spanish so more people can read it. please let me know what u think and if u have any requests let me know in the ask box thingy, i write for everyone in lsdln’s cast. tyvm !! have a good day/night mwah ♡
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deep breaths was all that could be heard, his lips trailing down from your neck to your abdomen. leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your clothed cunt.
he kept teasing you tonight, you went out to celebrate your three months together and instead of being all romantic and lovey-dovey, he was whispering the dirtiest things into your ears. but to be honest, you weren’t complaining at all, that’s one of the many things you loved about him, how dirty he could get, even in the most innocent occasions.
— going to fuck you so good tonight, angel.
all you could do was blush and giggle it off.
so here he was kissing your clit through your black laced panties you wore just for him tonight over and over again. it felt so good, yet it wasn’t enough, you needed more.
— enzo, please
he used his thumb to rub over your lips, something he did when he wanted you to open your mouth for him, wether it meant he wanted you to suck him off, or just make you suck in his fingers. however, this time he leaned over to spit in your mouth. and you gladly opened up and swallowed for him.
— shut the fuck up.
you kept bucking your hips into his face, but to no avail cause he ended up pinning you to the mattress, with his slender, pretty fingers sprawled out on your stomach. the fingers you oh so wanted somewhere else. the fingers you had spent HOURS thinking about.
as he was busy making out with your clothed pussy, kissing and sucking here and there, making the lace panties wet with his saliva. you were getting desperate to feel something, anything. you took his fingers into your own hands and guided them where you needed him the most.
— nuh uh, i want you to cum because of my mouth tonight.
you groaned when he finally took your panties off and kissed your inner thighs… slowly. still teasing you.
— fuck please, please, give me something.
and so he did, he kissed your now bare clit and started sucking on it like a desperate, starved man. the sounds he made while eating u out were like music to your ears.
he kept alternating between licks and flicks to your bud until you came, kissing your clit over and over to ride out your high. just to get off the bed and look for your favorite vibrator. he put it on a medium speed and pressed it lightly over your clit making you moan a little too loud from the overstimulation.
— s’too much enzo, no. no. no. no, stop it.
but he knew you didn’t want him to stop, if you did actually want that you would have used your safe word. he knew how fucking greedy you were. how no matter how many times he made you cum, if he wanted you to cum again then that’s what you’d do. you’d do anything to please him. anything for him.
he pressed it harder and started dragging it along your folds only stopping once the toy was on your clit again. he loved seeing your fucked out face, and how just by playing with the bundle of nerves he could get you to look like a mess; legs sprawled out and open for him, cunt red and glistening with your own juices and his spit. it was quite the sight if you asked him.
once you had relaxed and let him have his way with you for a couple of minutes, he used his index finger to put the toy on the highest setting. making the vibrations buzz around your whole body. making you shake because of the pleasure he was providing you.
he knew you were close, he already knew every part of your body, what you liked and what you didn’t. how to make u cum, how to get you on your knees for him, and how you reacted when you were about to hit your orgasm, so without moving the toy away from you, he leaned down, sticking his tongue inside of u going in and out at a fast pace. making you close your legs around his head for that extra feeling. you were so close to the edge, literally about to let go when he says;
— you cant cum until i say so.
he proceeded to begin with his 10 second countdown he loved to do when he wanted you to beg and cry for him. he loved hearing how desperate you were to cum for him. how pretty you looked with tears in your eyes.
“10… 9…”
— m’so close please
you could literally feel the tears in your eyes.
“8… 7… 6…”
— i don’t think i’ll last, please let me cum
“5… 4… 3…“
— please please please
“2…“
— fuck enzo
“1…”
— cum baby, make a mess for me, hm?
you came, you came so fucking hard letting him guide you through it.
— good job, angel. hope you are aware of the fact that we are not finished yet. or is my little doll too dumb to think right now?
he said with a pout on his lips, faking sympathy at your fucked out state. and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want whatever the fuck it was this beautiful man standing in front of you wanted to give you.
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512 notes · View notes
wosoamazing · 2 months
Text
The Transfer
Summary: You move to Barca.
Warnings: None I don't think
A/N: Google translated Spanish so I apologies if it is incorrect, hope you like it. Also as usual feel free to send requests, whether it is for this Series or for kid!readers, or something else. Hope you like it.
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You run to Leah when you see her, and give her a massive hug, you missed her, camp was hard, especially the second last day. There was a conversation you needed to have with her, you didn’t want to risk her finding out from someone else, so you decided to just start it right there and then in the airport.
“We need to talk about something, Le.”
“Go to Barca.”
“What?” you exclaim looking up at her, surely you heard her wrong.
“Go to Barca, you deserve it Bug, you’re amazing, go to Barca, you can always come back, Arsenal will take you back in a heartbeat, any club would take you back in a heartbeat, but you’re not going to want to come back, and I’ll visit I promise, and we can put daily facetime calls in our calendar for the first few weeks. Call me whenever you need, I’ll pick up the phone. But the girls are lovely there, and you will have Lucy and Kiera.”
“Wait, so you’re saying go? How did you find out?”
“Of course I’m saying go, it’s Barca, and the finding out part, well Alexia messaged asking if I knew anything I said no, asked Lucy and Kiera and they were like ‘yeah she spoke to us about what the people were like, and the environment etc we thought you knew’ Millie then walked in and was like ‘Guy’s shit just went down at the Matildas camp, might want to check your sister is okay though Leah’, Millie than told us what Sam told her and yeah”
“So, you’re not mad I didn’t ask you first?”
“No, I’m proud, you asked the right people the right questions, you stood up for yourself, you manage to do some pretty hard ball negotiations, and you didn’t let anyone make the decision for you, you stayed true to yourself, and I’m proud.”
_____
“Ready to go?” Lucy asks as your suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, you nod you had just played friendlies against the Lionesses in England, so at least the travel there was short, however the travel back to your club was going to be a bit longer, as you weren’t returning to Arsenal but to Barca.
“I feel sick,” Kiera moaned as she came out to join you and Lucy.
“Yeah, I told you to stop drinking, why do you think we didn’t drink.”
“Ah because she is still a week and one year underage, and you I don’t know, because you don’t know how to let loose and have fun,” Kiera replies. Last night some of your national and club teammates as well as some Leah’s national teammates had a party in your honour, to celebrate you going to Barca and to celebrate your Birthday, which was in a week.
_____
It was your first night staying at Lucy and Kiera’s and somehow it was conveniently team bonding night at their place. It didn’t seem like a coincidence at all. You were really nervous to meet the team, they all knew each other already, this was the first time you were joining a team that you were completely new in, when you joined Arsenal you already knew the girls really well because of Leah, and then when you joined the Matildas you had Steph, Kyra and Caitlin, but this was different.
You had stayed quiet for most of the night, watching the game, trying not to draw attention to yourself, however that was all unravelled when Mapi sighed “Estúpido Àrbitro. Eso fue claramente una falta.” (Stupid Referee, that was clearly a foul)
“Casi fue tarjeta amarilla.” (almost was a yellow card)
Everyone heads turned to you, and their jaws dropped. “You know Spanish?”
“Ah, well a bit, mainly to do with the game, one of my Friend’s Dad’s is Spanish and they talk Spanish at home, especially when he is watching the game.”
“Leah never told me that,” Lucy remarked, “Leah doesn’t necessarily know” “oh, so is this a friend or a friend.”
“Lucy leave the poor kid alone,” Kiera told her off.
“So it is a special friend,” “Is she, or he, cute?” “Do you have a photo?” the girls all asked at once.
“Girls, as Kiera said, leave the poor kid alone, she just got here” Alexia told them, they all shut up immediately.
_____
“Oh, Bebita, what’s wrong?” Alexia asks you as she walks into the locker room, you were slumped back in your locker, leaning against the wall, “come here”, she says as she drags you up and brings you in for a hug, in which you broke, tears start to stream down your face as you try to get out of Alexia’s grip, it was only your third day at Barcelona and yet here you were crying in front of your new captain. Alexia only tightened her grip at your actions cooing “It’s okay, I’m here,” rubbing your back slightly. “How about we sit down,” she sat down and pulled you into her lap, you rested your head on her shoulder, giving into her.
“I-I miss Le,” You sobbed into her shoulder.
“I know, its okay Bebita, we’re here,” Alexia could never understand completely how you felt but she could imagine, she could see how close you and Leah were which wasn’t surprising considering you had been living with her for the past six years but leaving her and only seeing her through the phone was something you were struggling with, and the team had started to notice it, you were always slightly sadder when you re-joined the team after being on the phone with Leah.
_____
You woke up and looked at the clock, it was 9:00am, ‘shit’ you mumble to yourself, you sprung out of your bed before flopping back into it, after having the realisation that you didn’t have training today, you had a game last night, which you played in, it was much tougher than the games at Arsenal, so you were exhausted.
It was only then that you took in your surrounds, there were balloons scattered around your room, and on the floor, there were little present signs with arrows. You quickly got yourself semi presentable before following the presents, they lead you into the living room, all your new teammates were there. “Surprise!” they all yelled whilst someone exploded one of those confetti guns, you were in fact surprised, you had been at Barca a week, you were expecting something low key with Lucy and Kiera not a whole team affair, “Come sit,” Lucy said tapping the empty section of couch between her and Alexia, as you walked over you couldn’t help but notice the pile of presents on the coffee table, you had already received gifts from your family and arsenal teammates, so these had to be from your Barca teammates but you couldn’t really believe it.
“You got these all for me?” you questioned in disbelief.
“Yes, they are all for you,” Alexia tells you before handing you a gift, “here open.”
You eventually finished making your way through the present pile and thanked everyone profusely.
However, while you thanked everyone Alexia walked in with three more presents, these ones were quite heavy. “Don’t open them yet, I just need to call someone,” whoever she was calling answered, and then she handed the phone to you, it was Leah and Lia, “Happy Birthday Bug! We may have some surprises for you, open the skinny rectangular one first. It’s from Katie, she wanted you to have it on your actual Birthday, make it more special” you opened it up and grinned it was a whoop, “tell her I like it please, and that I said thank you.”
“Will do bug, now the smaller of the two remaining was Lia’s idea, but both presents are from us” you opened the two gifts and at the sight of them tears left your eyes, “T-thank you,” your sister and Lia had just gifted you a new Mac Book Pro and a new iPhone. Ingrid moved closer to you and hugged you, knowing it was what you needed. After getting ready the rest of your morning was filled with fun festivities as the girls made sure to spoil you, however it was time to start getting ready to go out for dinner, so everyone returned to their own homes in agreeance they would all meet there, waiting for everyone to be there before they went in.
As you walked into the restaurant with the team Lucy whispered to you, “there may be one more surprise,” she gestured her head over to the massive table in the restaurant, where two familiar figures sat, you couldn’t control yourself and run over to them. “Hi Bug, glad you’re happy to see us,” Leah said hugging you “we missed you” Lia said now hugging you.
“I missed you too” you said before you sat down between them, you were grinning from ear to ear. “How are you here?” “Oh, this was all Alexia’s doing, she planned it all.” You looked over to you captain who winked at you, maybe Barca wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
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iiiiiiis-things · 9 months
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Period HC's with the Spiderverse
paring: (separate) earth42!miles morales, earth1610!miles morales, gwen stacy, pavitr parbhakar, miguel o'hara x femblack!reader
cw: period/vagina
blurb: what they're like when you're on your period
a/n: y'all i'm going through it rn. also this is what i used to translate my spanish
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earth 42 miles morales
now despite his cold demeanor he would literally be so god damn sweet while on your cycle
well- as sweet as he can be
you didn't even tell him, he found out bc you was getting out of line with him
"Aye Mami me pasa mi bolso" his face contorts in confusion as you suck yo teeth "damn i gotta do everything for you ? what's next you want me to change your fucking diaper?"
immediately notices
"you on yo period?"
you flabbergasted mouth gaped wide open
he already knows about everything cs yk his mom.. since his dad... nvm
does anything you want
tells uncle aaron that any plans for the following days of the week had to be canceled
literally with you 24/7
he doesn't even goes to the store to go get snacks
mf uses go puff
"miles you need to go home" you speak laying on his chest as you were slowly but surely drifting off to sleep "Ya le envié un mensaje de texto a mi mamá que no voy a ninguna parte"
wake up the next day to breakfast in bed
y'all bfrl we kno damn well he can't cook 💀
he ordered dennys while you was still sleep and js fixed it up on a plate to make it LOOK like he did 😭
whenever you lash out at him and get to throwing shi he js let's you
"i swear to god you got me fucked up!" you throw the remote at him as he moves to the right dodge it.
overall is js a big cuddle bug and servant for you to use <3
miles morales 1610
is literally clueless
you've been acting weird and being bipolar asf the past three days
breaking point was when you got extra mat at him for accidentally knocking over a vase (that he caught so it didn't break) when he snuck in your room window
"is everything ok? ¿Tuviste un mal día?"
boy wants to cry when you tell him to leave
"bro, just leave me alone i'm not in the mood right now" freezes at the word bro
"ok i'll swing by tomorrow?" he looks back at you out trying to see if you'll change your mind "mhm yeah later"
is so sad bc you didn't even say you love him ☹️
when he walks in the front door of his house mama rio IMMEDIATELY senses something is wrong with her son
stops whatever tf she was doing main concern being miles
"miles baby what's wrong ?" he lets out a sigh "i think y/n is mad at me" then proceeds to explain the situation
rio then explains wdf is happening
miles feels SO bad for not knowing 😭
is at your house the next day with a shit load of chocolate, a pack or two of gatorade, and some extra strength tylenol
he then tells you what his mom recommended (like what to drink and which medication works the best)
gets scared and lowkey flinches when you get cramps 💀
(you see him do it but he tries to plays it off)
is cuddling with you all the time
you play a prank on him while sending him into the drugstore to go ask for a period product that doesn't exist-
THE HORROR ON HIS FACE 😭
jeff being concerned on why their child hasn't been home for the past 4 days (dw rio explains)
gwen stacy
at first doesn't really get why your attitude is bigger than normal
but after the second day immediately understands
"it's your t.o.m (time of month) huh ?" you look slightly embarrassed "yeah..."
WILL go to the store to get you whatever you need
y'all share heat pads no one can change my mind 🙄✋🏾
y'all have talks over which pads and tampons are the best
y'all debate over pads the only agreement being that wings are better
but the both of y'all agree that tampax is on top 💪🏾
she would always be over at your house because she uses you as an excuse to get away from her dad :(
if y'all ever got it around the same time all HELL would break loose 😭
both of yall would be just straight up mad with eachother
"what do you want to eat?" she looks over at you as y'all walking to the mall food court "oh anything's fine"
walks over towards the chic-fil-a section "oh wait i don't want chicken, how about taco bell?"
mf groans and roll her eyes "i want chic-fil-a, u said anything was fine!"
"well maybe i changed my mind! if you wanted something specific why would you ask me?!" people start to stare as the heat of the argument rises
yall eventually settle for smoothies from jamba juice
she's more cuddly than usual which is completely fine
you make jokes about being blood sisters 💀
she does not find them funny.
pavitr parabhakar
you avoid him like the plague
why? because you do not want to lash out at your sweet, sweet , baby boy for no reason 😭
pav is like so confused
thinks he did something wrong ☹️
"hi y/n!" your walking to class as you hear someone calling you from down the hall obviously recognizing the voice of your boyfriend you walk faster so he couldn't catch up to you in the crowded hallway
"y/n??" stands there like 🧍🏽‍♂️
he thinks you didn't hear him and is probably just trying to get to class early to turn in late homework or something
but later when you two are supposed to meet up for chai after school (like always) and you don't show up he knows your avoiding him
baby is SO SADDD 😭
the next day he finally catches up with you as you walk into the school building and asks you straight up "are you avoiding me?"
you began to feel like the absolute worst gf ever as you see the worry in his eyes "no baby, i just- i mean-" he slightly bends his back leaning to get eye level with you "is there someone else?"
your heart sinks to your ass 😭
"what no pavi swear!" "then why are you avoiding me?" you sigh, giving in and explain what's been going on
"oh" he then stands up straight you began to feel he's about to be disgusted about you bleeding from your literal vagina until he wraps his arm around your shoulder and drags you into the school building
"babe i'm gonna be honest with you, i really don't care you could've just told me"
walks you to class as if nothing's happened
best.boyfriend.ever
i feel like his spider sense would kind help him see your ina bad mood idk
pepper kisses on your face
but once he sees you cramping it's over with
he's gonna cuddle you and not let you go (you have to force him off of you when you have to use the restroom)
asks auntie maya about it and she tell him everything you need, how you might react, and how he needs to watch everything he does to not make you upset
doesn't hesitate to buy pads if you need em
is constantly by your side
he👏🏾is👏🏾your👏🏾personal👏🏾heat👏🏾pad
whenever you get angry or upset he immediately apologizes and blames himself bc he thinks that if ur upset than he obviously did something wrong.
he def runs you hot baths with epson salt
ends up getting a period tracker app on his phone to keep up-
y'all were watching moana and he was trying his hardest not to laugh. 😭
why? because you started crying when maui left moana all on her own 🙍🏾‍♀️
and cried harder when he came back-
y'all i feel like i went a lil overboard wit this one 😭
hobie brown
this mf here
he will literally be the worst person to be around
idk how bt he knew it was coming before YOU knew it was coming
like y'all could be chilling on his couch and out of nowhere he goes
"you're getting a visit from aunt flow (i googled this) tomorrow you know that right?"
you being confused bc "who da fuck is aunt flo.... wait-"
hobie will never tell how he knows when it's coming but hey at least he reminds you 🤷🏾‍♀️
literally loves to piss you off
he likes seeing you all riled up
it's just something about the way you scream and throw shit at him for leaving the tv on all night
kinda like miles(42)- instead when you throw shit he catches it
smug the entire time.
the amount of teasing is crazy
"do you think you'll get pregnant if we-" "no" 🙎🏾‍♀️
he isn't a complete asshole
eventually throughout all of the teasing he does whatever you want him to do
when your cramping he helps by rubbing his hand on your lower tummy in circles
he does buy steal you candy from the store
if your craving anything he will most def go get it for you and if you wanna cuddle he would
he'll obviously kno that you want to but makes you asks bc he like that 🤷🏾‍♀️
"you alright?" hobie asks leaning in the door way of his bedroom as he watches you hug your stomach on his bed "could you help?"
"sure luv what do you need?" like bitch-
if you need him to go get you more this mf WILL ask you what size your vagina is 😭 (weirdo)
OMG NO BC RMB THAT ONE BAYMAX SCENE WHEN HE WAS GETTING THAT GURL PADS ?! 😭
he stands in the drugstore on the isle with the women necessities (after getting your size) while a middle age woman sides eye him as she slowly reaches for her preferred option
(the lady is confused on why there's a tall ass, guitar playing, punk, holding a box of literal diva cups in his hand 💀)
he eventually gives up and asks the lady if the ones in her hand are any good
let's just say he walks out the store with 4 months supply of period products
overall he's an asshole.. but he's your asshole 😫🤞🏾
miguel o'hara
now he's a little older so he isn't dumb
but he isn't the smartest either
a lot of people say miguel is sweet... no he's not
like bffr we see how SASSY this mf is in the movie 👏🏾😭
i feel like this mf would argue you down whenever your in a bad mood
"get the fuck out my way!" you scream at one of the peters as they bump into you knocking your food out your hand "damn what crawled up your ass and died"
you turn around to see nun other than your boyfriend
"you apparently, do you ever take a day off" his eyebrow raises a little "and leave you idiots running this place?" you roll your eyes as you walk over to grab a duplicate of what you just dropped
miguel notices how your more snappy at him, in fact you've been snappy the past couple days
"hey what's up with you?" he asks, yeah you guys bicker but it's usually playful flirting
"i don't kno, how would you feel if you were bleeding from your vagina?"
he finally gets it
later at home he walks in with a walmart bag of candy, a new fluffy blanket, and a gift card that has "im sorry" written on the front
he would stop picking with you knowing your attitude can go from 0-100 rq
like i mention with hobie and miles(42) i feel like he would just listen as you yell and throw shit at him
but because of his huge size he just sits there unfazed as you throw a literal flashlight at him (where you found it? no one knows.)
he would only cuddle with you at night saying "it's the only way i can sleep" when you know he just wants you to feel better
yes i got impatient with hobie and miguel.
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tightjeansjavi · 3 months
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worship
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A/N: last night..I was hornknee on the main and this was the result
~word count: 1.5k~
Summary: cock worship with Frankie Morales
Pairing | Frankie Morales x f!reader
Warnings: smut with no plot, cock worship, body worship, handjob, mutual masturbation, filthy talk, oral (female receiving) subby!frankie vibes, intimacy, established relationship, fluff, soft!frankie, boyfriend!frankie, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions such as skin color or body type, translated Spanish from both Frankie and the reader. Pet names: querida, cariño, princesa, hermosa. +18 minors dni!
paciencia - patience
No es necesario mi amor - not necessary, my love
es necesario para mí, Frankie - its necessary to me, frankie
tócame, querida. Por favor - touch me, darling. Please.
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“Baby, I want tonight to be all about you, okay?” Your boyfriend, Frankie Morales has always been a people pleaser in every aspect. Even though you have reminded him at least 100 times in the bedroom that his pleasure is also important, he always brushes it off and turns the attention back on you.
Well, tonight is going to be different. You’re going to show him just how much he really means to you.
“Hermosa,” he softly rasps. “I feel good when you feel good. You don’t have to provide me with any special attention, baby.”
You lean over his chest and gently press your pointer finger against the seam of his plush lips. “Shh. Please, Frankie. I want to show you just how much I really love you, and your cock.”
He’s stunned to say the least. His brows raise in unison as he brushes his hand across the apex of your bare thighs, stroking his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion. He visibly swallows hard, eyes flitting upwards to meet your gaze. “Querida, No es necesario, mi amor.”
You replace your finger with your lips, kissing him sweetly as your fingers gently skate across the patches of his beard. “es necesario para mí, Frankie.”
He licks into your mouth at a snail's pace so he can really get a taste of you on his tongue while your hand drifts slowly to his lap where his half-hard cock lay beneath the soft confines of his sweats.
“Hard for you already, querida.” His breath catches in his throat when you delicately trace the outline of his cock with the tip of your nail. His hips shift upwards, already desperate for more contact.
“I know, baby.” You smile into the kiss, letting out a breathy, soft sigh when he gradually presses your thighs open further for easier access. The panties adorning your body are a pair that he picked out himself, and you looked so beautiful in them.
“Can we keep these on, princesa?” He hums, low and deep as his fingers toy with the little pink bow at the hem of your panties. “The lace looks so pretty on you, baby.” He hooks his thumb through the elastic and snaps it back playfully, eliciting giggle to slip past your lips while your own fingers trail upwards, drawing patterns through the dark, coarse hair on his happy trail. His stomach clenches inwards from your feather light touch.
“Cariño.” You coo, “This night is about you, Frankie. If you’d like for me to keep them on, then I’ll keep them on for you.” You lightly gasp into the connected kiss when his fingers slowly glide upwards against the covered seam of your pussy. He breaks the kiss away momentarily, only so he can glance down and see just how wet you’ve grown for him already. He licks his lips, wetting them before he’s drawn back to his own pleasure as you nip playfully at the junction where his neck meets his collarbone. Teeth graze his bronzed skin as you bite down, drawing blood to the surface. His head tilts to the side to allow you better access to his skin. His lashes flutter shut, lips parting as he moans softly.
You trail your lips further, teasing, biting at his collarbones, and slide your hand southwards. His cock twitches in excitement as you make quick work of pushing his sweats down just enough to free his cock.
His hot breath fans your face when one large hand comes to grasp your jaw, pulling your face back upwards to his lips to meet in a bruising kiss.
“tócame, querida. Por favor.” He whimpers through the kiss, hips bucking upwards when he doesn’t immediately feel your soft touch.
There isn’t a minute in the day where Frankie doesn’t yearn for you, and your touch. He thinks about you morning, afternoon, night, and even in his dreams.
“Paciencia.” You tsk playfully under your breath and slowly slide your hand down the underside of his cock, feeling every vein and ridge beneath the soft pads of your fingertips.
He huffs through his nose, a chuckle vibrating up his chest as he shakily inhales your tongue licking into his mouth. “That’s my line, querida.”
“Hush, baby. Let me take care of you, Frankie. Let me take care of you and your pretty cock.” You drop your hand further, gently cupping his balls, squeezing them delicately, earning another breathy moan to escape his lips.
His head slowly falls back against the plush pillows. If his eyes weren’t shut in bliss already, they would be rolling back into his skull. His fingers begin to toy with your covered clit in languid, circular motions. He loves playing with you like this, feeling your slickness begin to build, and your pussy flutter.
“I’m so fucking hard for you, cariño. And your pretty pussy is so wet for me.” He’s already salivating for a taste, to bury his head between your thighs and delve into his favorite meal of the day; you.
“Feels so good, Frankie.” You praise him adoringly. “Does it turn you on when I say that you have such a pretty cock? It’s so beautiful, cariño. You’re so beautiful.” You gush, kissing him deeper as his hand cradling your face pulls you in even closer. If he could, he’d crawl inside of you and stay there forever.
“Fuuck.” He skin flushes from your words, cheeks turning ruby red, heart swelling in his chest as his thumb gently strokes your jawline. “Tell me I have a pretty cock again, please.”
You drag your hand upwards once more, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as you slowly twist your wrist in a corkscrew motion. You can feel him growing harder in your palm as your thumb swipes across the ruddy head, collecting pearls of precum that have begun to leak and dribble down the underside of his shaft.
“You have the prettiest cock I have ever seen, Frankie.”
His hips buck upwards into your hand pathetically as he whimpers your name over, and over again.
His mental state is at the most vulnerable, yet he has never felt more safe than with you. His lips break away from the kiss, a string of saliva keeps you both connected for a moment, like an invisible string. His head tilts down, cheek resting against the crook of your shoulder, hot breath kisses your skin as he lets himself fully indulge in unabashed pleasure.
“I’m so lucky to have you, cariño. Y-you’re so beautiful, and good to me.” He chokes out, teeth grazing your shoulder as he bites down. His fingers on your pussy begin to pick up their pace, wanting you to feel the same level of pleasure that he is experiencing. His attention stays focused on your clit, and between the steady pressure, and the fabric adding friction, you’re close to hitting your own high.
“You’re so pretty, Frankie. Always so pretty, but even more when you’re on the edge of coming.” You whisper as your freehand rests along his bare shoulder, before slowly sliding into his hair, playing with the soft curls at the back of his head, nails scraping at his scalp.
Perspiration has already begun to build and pool along his bronzed skin. Shiny, wet, slick, needy.
He bites down on your shoulder harder, drawing blood to the surface, eyes squeezed shut, whimpers falling against your skin.
“Oh fuck. I’m going to come, querida. I’m—I'm so close, baby.” He groans as you pump your wrist faster, feeling his cock tense and pulse around your palm.
“Good boy, Cariño. Come for me, Frankie.” You breathlessly request, and he obeys, letting himself go, crying out your name as he paints your hand and his bare stomach in his release.
His softened cock laid still against his stomach, chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath. You kissed him sweetly, brushing a few stray curls that were stuck to his forehead with sweat.
His eyes were hooded as he watched your lips descend down his body, between his pecs, down his stomach. You dragged your tongue through his release, lapping every drop up from his sweat stained skin before his strong arms were pulling you back up to his face.
Even in his post-orgasm haze, his kisses were desperate as he tasted himself along your tongue.
“My turn.” He whispered and grabbed ahold of the hem of your ruined panties and yanked them down in a haste.
You couldn’t help but giggle when you felt his curls tickle the inside of your thighs, and the light, gentle scrape of his patchy beard against your sensitive skin.
He spelled his name out against your clit, over and over again, till you positively had nothing left to give him.
In the midst of it all, he found himself growing hard again, and eager, very eager, but now he focused on worshiping you, the same way you worshiped him. He came again with his hips rutting into the comforter as you leaked onto his tongue.
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honeyedmiller · 5 months
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The Gift | Javier Peña
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pairing: husband!javi x wife!reader
warnings: marriage, mentions of pregnancy (reader is pregnant!!!), reader described to be shorter than javi, mentions of the holidays (specifically christmas), mentions of starting a family, tooth-rotting sickeningly sweet fluff, brief mentions of a deceased family member, tiny uses of spanish with translations at the very end, no use of y/n. if any content warnings may not be suitable for you to consume, please do not read forward. 18+, minors dni.
word count: 3.4k
synopsis: you and javi do your yearly gift exchange with each other. your gift to him just so happens to be life-changing.
this is *technically* a part two to when you wish on a shooting star, but it can be read as a stand alone.
tysm to my bby @ilovepedro for beta reading this for me. you’re amazing ily ♥️
divider by @ dvluc
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The bright streams of golden sunlight shining into your bedroom is what woke you up for the second time that morning. You let the warmth of the rays soak into your skin, knowing it was a chilly December day outside of the four walls of your shared home. 
The first thing that woke you up was your loving husband kissing you on your forehead and telling you he loved you before he went to work that morning. You’d been feeling extra sleepy lately, so he didn’t want to disturb you by fully waking you up. 
Your body just felt so exhausted, and you woke up with short waves of nausea in the recent mornings. You just painted it as stress from your own job, not thinking much of it. 
You groaned as you stretched, dreading getting out of your warm bed where the scent of your beloved husband engulfed the entirety of your body. You missed his presence already, wishing the warmth of his chest was pressed against yours as he peppered soft kisses all around your face. You found your mind swirling with longing for him, but you couldn’t get too distracted. 
You decided it was time to get up and straighten up the house since you had the day off. Next week was Christmas, and you and Javi held your annual Christmas party at your house every year, so you wanted to make sure the house was pristine for the guests you were to have over. 
After you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you made the bed and trudged downstairs, yawning as you reached the kitchen. Caffeine sounded heavenly right now, considering Javi kept you up most of the night. 
You made a fresh pot of coffee to brew, leaning against the kitchen island counter as your eyes roamed your kitchen. Your eyes landed on the pastel yellow sticky note stuck to your fridge, immediately recognizing Javi’s handwriting. You took the sticky note off of the fridge, eyes scanning over what he scribbled. 
Good morning, mi amor. Don’t forget we have our annual gift exchange tonight. Can’t wait to give you your gift, bebita. I also left you some chorizo and eggs in the fridge for you. Te amo para siempre.
-J
You grinned down at the endearing note and opened the fridge, and as promised, there was a small container with one of your favorite, simple breakfasts. You took the container out of the fridge and a pan from the cabinet, scooping the contents out of the container and onto the pan with a wooden spoon, turning on the flame to the stove to heat the food up. It looked mouth wateringly delicious at first, but when the smell of the food invaded the kitchen, you suddenly felt so nauseous. 
It was odd, because you usually loved the smell of the meal. You turned off the heat and abandoned the kitchen altogether after putting the food and coffee away, shaking your head as you made your way back upstairs. You sighed as you sat down on the bed, grimacing as the nausea slowly dissipated. 
Maybe breakfast wasn’t the best idea today. You got up again to officially get ready for the day, needing to stop at the store to get some items for your Christmas party before you came back home to tidy up. Luckily you and Javi kept your house neat, so cleaning wasn’t going to be a super tedious task.
You made a list of things you needed at the store and made the short drive over, checking off all of the things on your list. You passed the feminine products section, halting when you realized you needed to pick up some more pads. You spotted the pregnancy tests right next to the pads, and your mind reeled for a second. 
When was the last time you got your period?
You’d been so wrapped up in life recently and busy with work and preparations for the Christmas party that you hadn’t even realized your period never came this month. Again, you could’ve written it off as stress, but a tiny pit in your stomach was telling you to get a pregnancy test. You and Javi had been trying for a baby after you made an agreement at your little getaway trip for your third wedding anniversary in Lake Arrowhead. 
Now that you were both back in Laredo, reality broke the bubble of pure bliss you two were wrapped in. It was back to work, back to responsibilities, back to the mundane daily life—one that you absolutely adored getting to live with Javi. Nonetheless, time slipped away from you and you’d completely missed the fact that your period was late by nearly a whole month. 
You grabbed three pregnancy tests just to be extra sure of whatever outcome you’d receive. Your mind swirled with thoughts of the possibility that you were carrying your first child, but you didn’t allow yourself to delve too deep into those thoughts just yet. As you made your way to the checkout stand, you happened to pass the baby clothing section, spotting a pastel yellow newborn onesie that said “abuelo’s amorcito” in white lettering. 
You smiled and instantly thought of Chucho and how happy he’d be hearing the news that he was to expect his first grandbaby. You grabbed the onesie, possibly getting a little too ahead of yourself, but you’d save it and give it to him when the time came. 
Your heart fluttered as you made your way home after checking out all of your items, realizing that it was already two in the afternoon. Javi got home around four, so you had to hunker down when you got home to clean. You finished cleaning the backhouse you and Javi lived in in record time, moving to the living room of the main house to tidy up a bit. You still had about thirty more minutes to spare, so you took your tests to the bathroom with you. Once you were finished, you laid the tests down on the counter and washed your hands, sitting at the edge of the tub in anticipation. 
The five minutes you had to wait for the results to show up had to be some of the longest minutes of your life, face buried in your hands as your knee bounced up and down. Your breath was shaky as nerves took over you, the five minutes nearing an end. You stood up from the edge of the tub and made your way to the double vanity, squeezing your eyes shut while inhaling a deep breath. 
Now or never.
Your eyes shot open, only to be met with six pink lines meeting your gaze. Every single test was positive. You exhaled a shaky breath, a small sob bubbling within your throat as your hand covered your mouth. 
You couldn’t wait to tell Javi. 
You’d originally gotten him a nice watch that he had his eye on for a couple of months for the gift exchange knowing he’d never splurge on himself like that. He insisted that he splurged on you, though, to which you always argued ‘if you can do it, I can do it for you, too.’
You decided to save the watch for Christmas though, seeing as giving him a gift like this was far more heartwarming. Your eyes teared up at the thought of how great of a father Javi would be. You wrapped one pregnancy test delicately into a small box, wrapping paper covered in snowmen adorning the box. You wrapped the onesie for Chucho next, carefully writing on both boxes who the gifts were for. 
You hid the other two tests, making your way downstairs with the boxes in your hands. You set them both under the Christmas tree, wiping away a stray tear that had rolled down your cheek. 
“Mi amor, I’m home!” You heard Javi call out from the front door of your home, and you couldn’t help the smile that instantly appeared upon hearing his voice. 
You walked to the entryway of your home, seeing your husband set down his work bag onto the floor. 
“Well if it isn’t my handsome husband.” You say as you approach him, stopping in front of him to gaze up into his beautiful brown eyes. He instinctively wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you into him so you were flush against his body. He smiles down at you, cupping your cheek. 
“If it isn’t my beautiful wife.” He counters back. Your hands travel up to his broad chest, running over the lapels of his beige suit he was wearing. 
“I missed you, mi amor.” You coo softly, one hand cupping the nape of his neck. 
“Yeah? I missed you too, baby.” His smile never wavers from his face as your free hand wraps around the dark plaid tie he wore, gently tugging on it to make him bend down. Your lips easily met his in one swift movement, and he groaned softly into the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, grabbing it playfully before lightly tapping it and pulling apart from you. 
“Let me change out of my work clothes and then we can do the exchange, cariño. Papá made pozole for tonight.” 
“Sounds delicious. Meet you on the couch.” You huff a laugh, giving him a quick kiss before he makes his way upstairs to change. You make your way over to the couch, grabbing the smaller present that you’d tucked under the tree earlier along the way. You plopped down, nerves overtaking your body. You weren’t sure what his initial reaction would be, albeit you were sure it would presumably be a positive one. 
You heard his heavy steps descending the stairs, and his face lit up when he saw you sitting on the couch. He carried a small box in his hands, a boyish grin on his face as he made his way to the couch to plop himself down next to you. 
“You wanna go first, or should I?” He asks, hand resting on your thigh. The gift exchange you two did was a tradition you both started for yourselves the first Christmas you were together. You’d been doing it ever since, small heartfelt gifts to be exchanged between you both. Javi called it “the pregame to Christmas.” 
“You go first, amor.” You grin, heart leaping in your throat as you try to control your breathing and emotions overall. 
“Here you are, corazón. I hope you like it.” He hands you the small box and you grin at him, carefully tearing the wrapping. You uncover the contents in the box, revealing a silver charm bracelet with a charm already on it. It was a small inscription saying ‘siempre.’ Tears welled in your eyes as you took it out of the box, the shininess of the silver glinting from the glow of the Christmas tree lights nearby. 
“Javi, mi amor. It’s beautiful.” You cry, tears cascading down your cheeks. 
“You think so cariño?” His voice is soft, hands reaching out to wipe the tears from your face. You nod with a smile, eyes glossy and brows furrowed. 
“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You unclasp the bracelet and hold it out to him so he can put it on your wrist. He easily clasps it, the cold metal pressing against your skin. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. 
“Your turn, baby.” Javi encouraged, and you cried even more as you shakily handed him your gift. You held your breath as he tore open the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the test. His movements completely halted as his eyes scanned over the contents in the box. 
His eyes snapped up to yours, glossy with tears threatening to spill over. You’d only ever seen Javi cry less than a handful of times since you two have been together, so seeing him so emotional made you sob. 
“Is this real?” He whispers, eyes moving back down to the test. 
You nod your head, both of your hands gently grabbing the sides of his beautiful face. 
“One hundred percent real, mi amor. We’re gonna have a baby.” You try your best to contain your sobs, but it’s useless at this point when your own husband is crying with you. He leans over to you, laying you down on the couch as he wraps his arms around your frame and just holds you. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck, salty tears skimming the warmth of your skin. 
Your fingers card through his dark, thick locks, holding him close as you kiss his head repeatedly, mumbling how much you love him and can’t wait to have his baby. 
Javi never thought he’d have this life. He never thought he’d be able to meet a nice woman, date, settle down, fall in love, get married; let alone start a family. 
He was a very different man when he’d left Colombia and came back to the states after taking down Escobar and the Cali cartel, so closed off and unwilling to picture or allow this kind of life for himself. The kind of life he deserves—working a good paying job at the Laredo Sheriff’s Office, married to the most gorgeous woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, reunited with his dad, content and fucking happy. 
He never thought he’d see the day, and yet here you were, laying underneath him and allowing him to cry into your neck about you being able to give him the best thing he could’ve ever asked for, which was a family of his own. 
After both of your sobs subsided and tears melted into a salty stiffness on your cheeks, he kissed your neck softly and hovered his face above yours. Your hands cupped his cheeks gently, pulling him down for a long, comforting kiss that said I love you I love you I love you a million times over. 
“We’re having a baby.” He breathed, a genuine smile that made his crow’s feet prominent adorning his face. You nod your head, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. 
“We’re having a baby, Javi,” You laugh as he starts to attack your face with an array of kisses, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. “I got something for Chucho too to tell him the big news.” You say against his lips, and he sits back up while gently tugging you up with him. 
“Yeah? I’m sure he’ll love whatever it is.” Javi’s heart warmed at the thought of you getting his father a gift as well to tell him that he was going to be a grandpa. 
You stand up from the couch and hold your hands out to Javi, making a grabbing motion to coax him to grab your hands. He does so without hesitation and you pull him up from the couch, hands landing on his chest afterwards. 
You beam up at him, a glint of pure happiness in your eyes as you let your gaze roam over his features. You still don’t know how you got this lucky, thanking the universe every day that an unlikely pair as yourselves met at an H-E-B of all places. 
“Te amo con todo mi corazón,” Javi wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into him as he hugged you. “Gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise.” 
Tears sprang to your eyes once more at his endearing words. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Javier Peña. I promise you that.” You kiss him one more time before breaking away, collecting Chucho’s gift from under the tree before you both make your way to the main house. 
The chilly December air nipped at your skin, so you nuzzled closer into Javi’s side as you both walked down the stone path to the main house. For a second, you were worried that the smell of pozole was going to make you nauseous just as the chorizo and eggs did earlier, but you found it to be the complete opposite this time. You were practically salivating, ready to devour the delicious meal your father in law set out to make you three. 
You and Javier stepped into the kitchen, greeted by Chucho stirring the pot of pozole a few times before he saw you both. 
“Ah, mija! Thank you for cleaning the living room today. Haven’t been able to get around to it myself, so I appreciate it.” Chucho grins. 
“It’s not a problem, Chucho. Thank you for making us dinner. It smells delicious.” You say, setting the present down on the dining room table. 
“Not a problem, querida.” 
Javi prompts you and Chucho to sit down at the table as he takes over, grabbing bowls for the three of you. He serves you both before coming behind you to gently grab your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. You grin up at him and clear your throat, catching Chucho’s attention. 
“This is for you, suegro. I hope you like it.” You hand him the gift, and he looks bewildered as he takes it from you and starts to unwrap it. 
“You didn’t need to get me anything, mija–” His words are cut short as he opens the box, seeing the tiny onesie in it. 
“Surprise, Pop.” Javi says, and Chucho looks between his son and you in disbelief. 
“You’re having a baby?” His voice is full of shock, and you can’t help but reach across the table and squeeze one of his hands. 
“You’re gonna be an abuelo, suegro.” 
Chucho looked down at the onesie in his hands with tears pricking his eyes. You never thought you’d see the day that Chucho Peña got teary-eyed. 
“Tu mamá would’ve loved to see the day her baby boy was having a child of his own. One with a sweet, wonderful woman such as yourself, mija.” Chucho looked between you both with a bittersweet smile on his face. 
“I know, Pop. She’s looking down on us all, and I know she can’t wait to see what a wonderful abuelo you’ll be.” Javier moved to his father, giving him a comforting pat on his back. 
“Thank you both for blessing me with the opportunity of becoming a grandfather. I know you two will be the best parents. I love you both so very much.” Chucho put the onesie back in the box, grabbing your hand once more while shaking it. 
“We love you, abuelo Chucho.” 
Dinner was purely full of baby discussion after that, like name ideas you already had, what you think the gender will be, how you’ll want to decorate the nursery, when you’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment, and all things alike. You couldn’t lie, you absolutely adored every minute of it seeing the love of your life and a man who was such a prominent father figure in your life discussing even the most minute details about your child who you already know was so extremely loved. 
That night, you and Javi went to bed with smiles that you couldn’t seem to wipe off your faces. He kissed you and pushed up his oversized t-shirt you were wearing to bed, resting his head gently onto your stomach as he tenderly cooed into your soft flesh. 
“Hey there. It’s your papá. I can’t wait to meet you, pequeño. Your mommy and I love you so much already.” You grinned down at Javi, raking your fingers through his hair as he continued to babble on to your unborn child. You’d nearly fallen asleep at the soft timbre of Javi’s voice reverberating the four walls of your bedroom. Javi pulled down his t-shirt on you and kissed your forehead tenderly, wrapping you in his arms. 
“I love you, my beautiful wife. Thank you for choosing me and loving me the way you do. I can’t wait to become a father to our child.” Javi’s voice was raspy as it dwindled to a near-whisper, and when he got no response from you, he looked down to see you’d completely fallen asleep. 
You looked so peaceful. Javi smiled down at you as he softly kissed your forehead one more time before laying his head next to you, thanking the universe and all the shooting stars in the sky that you gave him the gift of a lifetime. 
-
translations:
te amo para siempre — i love you forever
te amo con todo mi corazón — i love you with all my heart
gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise — thank you for giving me the life i always wanted
suegro — father in law
pequeño — little one
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tags: @party-hearses ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @bastardmandennis ; @catchallfangirl ; @lizzie-cakes
please lmk if you’d like to be added / removed from the tag list. 🖤
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tswhiisftteedr · 2 months
Note
hi!!!! could I please request general nsfw headcannons for vox, val, and velvette (or just your favorite of the 3!)? maybe especially with a slightly bratty partner? thank you! :)
Behave Bitch! ☆ Headcanon + Drabble/Short One Shot
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☆ Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Vox x Bratty!Gn!Reader, Velvette x Bratty!Gn!Reader, and Valentino x Bratty!Gn!Reader x Vox:
You go out of your way to fuck with them and test their patience, and this is how their repercussion would be.
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation(Lots of of degradation), Oral Sex(Male Receiving), Penetrative Sex, Bad Spanish, Creampie, Possessiveness, Spanking, Choking, Dacryphilia, Bondage, Handcuffs, Blood, Biting, Electricity NOT PROOFREAD.
Note: So I may or may not be a total slut for the three of them, and especially a sucker for Val x reader x Vox action. Like how should I say it? Oh, yeah, I need them inside m— Hehsjsnsnjwns Awooga lol. *Bitch is used gender neutrally if you couldn’t tell. So 4 things, number one this Headcanons + Drabbles/Slight Short One shots, note that the example in the headcanons are just examples of scenario, and are unrelated to the drabble part, so don’t get confused when they mention one situation and then you read about another. Number 2, the type of reader was not precise so I went with gender neutral, so I’m sorry if the smut part isn’t the best as I am still lacking in writing experience to make something great with the lack of precise genitalia mention. But if you find it good, we’ll good for you! Also I used Google and translation apps when it came to the Spanish that Valentino employs, so I’m sorry to my Hispanic readers of the display of language is not to your liking. And lastly, I didn’t know how to write a slightly bratty reader, so I’m sorry anon if the reader is either not enough or too bratty. Personally I love a full on bratty, attention whore, whiny reader because that’s how I am.(If I was hot and got over my fear of being rejected, anyways-) That’s it for info about the fic!!
Author Note: As I am writing this, I am halfway way done with a lute one shot, but I must say, please stop requesting works. I put my request on pause, and I indicated that one both my Masterlist and rules, but seems that people are still confused because some of my older fics have ‘Request are open’ at the bottom. So please don’t request anything more, I have 34 request to start working on after I finish the lute one, plus I still haven’t started to work on chapter 3 for my Idia series. (12 of those request are actually Adam related, and one of them is a zestial one, where the requester offered to pay me for it, so it’s at the top of my list after this 💸💰. Though I still haven’t reach them because I want to finish my lute work first.) Also I am fucking pissed as I am written this, cuz I keep seeing clips of episodes 7&8 of Hazbin on tumblr, but I don’t have prime so I have to wait for stupid illegal websites to repost them. Like I am genuinely mad at the wait time, since my boys(Val and vox, my loves, my husbands, my #1 turn ones-) are in it. Worst part of it all I saw the clips of Vox literally thrusting into the air saying his hard and that the sight of Alastor bloody was better than sex. Like shit, did that make me horny. Like Vox, sweaty, you can take out that pent up energy from the build up excitement, I don’t mind if the other Vees are watching, Valentino can even join~ Hehsjjsjsjnsks. Update: I just watch the two episodes, and fuck were they good. Anyways I’m done, enjoy the fic cunts!
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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ఌ︎ Valentino ఌ︎
Oh, you have no idea ‘what kind of gift you gave him with your behavior, Cariño~’
He takes pleasure in ‘putting bitches in their place,’ so feel free to be yourself, use that sharp tongue, but be prepared for the consequences without too much complaints. And he relishes in being the one to mete out repercussions.
Valentino's approach is straightforward; he often lets you play and act as bratty as you want while casually keeping an eye on you. ‘No need to worry; he's merely observing.’
He'd allow you to talk back, tolerating insults, while seated in the VIP section of one of his clubs, surrounded by smoke and flirting demons. All that set up to provoke you into further incriminate yourself.
Despite the condescending expression on his face, you didn’t have anything to about him, everything appearing ordinary, considering he was Val. Nothing seemed suspicious for a while... and then, ¡Bam!
You find yourself dragged into the club's private bedroom, now in a position where you're either tied up or bent over his lap/desk, enduring a session of intense spanking for being a 'good-for-nothing slut,' with degrading comments throughout.
Valentino opts for a paddle, well aware of the sharp sting it leaves on your skin.
Eventually, he transitions to using his hands, relishing in the visible aftermath of his touch—handprints and bite marks adorning your body.
As tears stream down your face, you apologize and plead to him ‘that you would be better, so please stop’ and that’s ‘ ‘s to much!’. He makes no effort to conceal his satisfaction, openly grinning at your vulnerable state.
Today unfolded like any other typical day in hell, as you paid a visit to your boyfriend on the set. Entering his studio, you hung back for a moment, observing Valentino directing the actors, his voice sexy as always but this time yet again fill with frustration.
Amidst the chaos, there were whispers among the staff about the planned star for the movie being decapitated and having to fill their role in with a newbie due to the lack of time ro wait for the actors regeneration, this bringing light upon the source of Val's frustration.
You pondered how much worse his temper would escalate if you followed through with your planned actions. However, that thought didn't weigh heavily on your mind, as you were determined from the get go to mess with him.
Emerging from the shadows and skillfully navigating the set while evading the cameras' gaze, you approached Valentino. Grinning, he remarked, "You came to entertain papi, how sweet of you, amorcito~" standing up and expecting you to jump into his arms.
Surprisingly, you kept walking, engaging in conversation with a crew member, casually flirting. Val struggled to process the fact that ‘not only did you ignore him, but you did so to chat with some nobody!’
Oh boy, was he pissed, yet instead of his typical inclination to abandon work for a tantrum. He had remained seated, continuing to provide screen direction to his actors.
Now that he was well aware of your actions, he had no intention of losing the little game you were playing. Throughout the shoot, he feigned indifference, though his teeth subtly gritted each time he caught a glimpse of you so close to that random sinner.
Despite Valentino's own lack of shamelessness when it came to sleeping around, he was still the ever so possessive and obsessive man. And having so hands-on with someone else, especially in his presence, drove him to the walls.
After 45 minutes of takes and retakes, Valentino directed his staff to wrap up for the day. Immediately afterward, he approached you, gripping your wrist forcefully enough to surely leave a bruise. He then ushered you into the elevator, ascending to his shared luxurious living quarters and, ultimately, his room.
Once inside, he roughly threw you onto the bed, using one arm to pin both of yours above your head, another around your neck, while the remaining two swiftly removed your clothes.
As he approached your ear, his breath on your face, he scornfully remarked, “You wretched whore, think you go and flounce around, letting some fucker feel you up! ¿You’re so desperate to get fuck, verdad, puta?“ His voice carried disdain for your actions, yet beneath it, pent-up sexual frustration lingered.
Now having you completely undressed, Valentino briefly pulled away to retrieve something from his nightstand. It turned out to be a pair of long, dangling cuffs, ideal for securing you to his headboard. And that's precisely what he did.
Bound to the bedpost, you tested your restraints with a subtle tug, ensuring they securely held you in place. You wanted to confirm if there was any potential escape route, making sure you were aware of all possibilities.
In an instant, you felt Valentino's hands on you once more, grabbing your chest roughly, squeezing them hard enough to cause some pain but not enough to leave marks. His fingers then dug into your sensitive flesh, leaving bruises visible through the thin layer of sweat forming on your skin.
His touch was cold and calloused, contrasting sharply with the warmth emanating from his body.
"You little slut," he growled, his accented words dripping with contempt. "You think you can just throw yourself at anyone, disrespect me like this?" With each harsh word, his grip tightened further, pinching your nipples cruelly between his rough fingers.
Despite the pain, a shiver ran down your spine at the prospect of what was to come. You knew exactly how much control he had over you now, and it was exhilarating.
"No, Val," you managed to croak out between gasps for air. "I didn't mean anything by it, really."
But your words fell on deaf ears; instead, Valentino's hand moved lower, cupping your hips roughly before squeezing them forcefully. "You fucking liar," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. "You’re lucky your body is good at satisfying my needs, otherwise I would have already shot your ungrateful bitch ass!”
With that, you observed as he let his tongue swirl around his fingers, that action was followed by him teasing at your hole. “Wait Val, are you not gonna use lube—“
“Lube? Are y’a kidding me? ¡Shut the fuck up, puta! You should be crying tears of joy that I’m even prepping your undeserving ass.” Was all he said, before his fingers divulged into your tight hole, letting his other hand paw at your bits teasingly before pushing in a third finger inside you. The sensation was both pleasurable due to his aphrodisiac like spit and painful as it was all so sudden, it also felt as if he was claiming ownership over your body once more. Tears begging to role down your face at the stretch.
"You’re such a fucking slut, getting off on this, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice husky with desire yet stern. "You like acting like a desperate bitch in heat and piss me just so I can punish you, isn't that right, mariposa~"
As he spoke, he began to thrust his fingers in and out of your heat, pounding into you relentlessly. Each thrust caused your hips to rock forward, meeting his rhythm eagerly. Slightly letting reach down further, just close enough for his tongue to scoop your tears.
You could feel your body responding to the invasion, your hole tightening around his fingers, begging for more. Despite the pain, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the pleasure building inside you.
"No! Stop, please, Val!" you pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, he added another finger, stretching you wider. The sensation was both terrifying and arousing, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
"Eso es," he growled, his voice laced with lust. "tómalo todo, you filthy whore."
Just as you thought you couldn't handle anymore, he removed his fingers, leaving your hole gaping open and vulnerable. With a cruel chuckle, he stood up and unfastened his pants, revealing his massive harden cock, thick and veiny, throbbing with desire.
"Time to teach really you a lesson," he said, his eyes burning with hunger. "Get ready to scream, puta."
Without further ado, he positioned himself at your entrance, aligning his tip with it.
"N-no, please, Val—" you managed to utter out before he slammed into you without mercy, filling you up completely.
The sudden intrusion caused you to cry out even harder in both pain and pleasure. Your body shook violently as he started to thrust in and out of you.
Each powerful thrust pushed deeper than before, stretching you further than and further. Your moans turned into high-pitched squeals of mixed agony and pleasure, and your juices coated his member as he pounded into you relentlessly.
The bed creaked under the combined weight of their bodies, adding to the primal rhythm of your session. Your body bounced wildly with each thrust, nipples hardening further under the harsh treatment.
Your legs were spread wide apart, while your hands were still bound tightly to the headboard, rendering you helpless against his onslaught. You couldn't move, couldn't escape the intense pleasure building up inside you.
As he continued his brutal assault, your body adjusted to the his dick, becoming slightly accustomed to the stretching. Your walls tightened around him, milking him eagerly.
He groaned, his hips slamming harder against yours, his cock pounding deeper than ever. His hand reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head forward forcefully, exposing your neck and throat.
"Open that filthy mouth," he growled, his breath hot against your neck.
You obeyed, parting your lips, and Valentino pulled back to spit directly into your mouth. The saliva was thick with frustration, a stark contrast to the usual sweet yet dominant taste of his kisses.
"Swallow it, bitch," he demanded, his voice full of desire. Your throat still constricted by one of his hands, yet you managed to swallow the bitter saliva, feeling it coat your tongue and throat.
The humiliation and degradation only served to heighten your arousal, your body quivering as his thrusts grew more frenzied. Your walls clenched around his shaft, urging him to go faster, harder.
"You like that, don't you? Of course you do!" he snarled, his grip tightening in your hair. "You love being treated like the worthless slut you are."
His words only served to fuel the fire inside you, your body shaking and writhing under his control. You couldn't help but whimper in response, your body betraying you with every moan.
Valentino continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, ‘almost there’ you though.
Suddenly, Valentino pulled out, leaving you gasping for air, feeling empty and needy.
He quickly untied you from the headboard, dragging you onto your hands and knees, positioning you on all fours. His grip tightened around your neck, choking you just enough to make your vision blur.
"Don’t think I didn’t feel you clench around my cock, you ain’t cumming that easily," he hissed, his voice full of lust.
You nodded, trying to catch your breath, your eyes watering from the lack of air. He wasted no time, thrusting back into you, filling you up once more. This time, his thrusts were even more brutal, the angle hitting your g-spot with each plunge.
The choking intensified, making it even harder to breathe, yet you found yourself moaning louder, your body desperate for release. Your legs shook, struggling to hold you up as he continued to pound into you.
"You're mine, not any other overlord’s or fucking prince of hell, and certainly not that pathetic fucker from earlier, you hear me, Y/N?" he growled, his grip on your neck tightening.
You managed a nod, your voice strangled by his chokehold.
Valentino keeps his hold on your neck, as he brings one of his hand down onto your ass, leaving a stinging impact. The pain was a welcome distraction from the choking, making your moans turn into cries of pleasure.
He spanked you repeatedly, alternating between cheeks, leaving handprints on your flesh. The stinging sensation only served to heighten your senses, your body trembling with every smack.
"You're going to cum for me, slut," he promised, his voice low and menacing. "And you're going to beg for it." Following his words, the hand that was then on your neck was now grabbing at your hair.
Your body tensed, the pleasure building to an unbearable level. Your inner walls clenched around his shaft, milking him relentlessly as he continued to spank and thrust into you.
You couldn't help but comply, your voice hoarse from the choking. "P-please, Val, I need to cum!"
He chuckled darkly, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied. "I said beg for it, you filthy little slut!"
"Please, papi, I need to cum, please! I need so, so bad, ‘can’t think! I just need to come, please, please, please Val!" you begged,
Your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment. Valentino smirked, his thrusts growing even harder, slamming into you with all his might.
Your body was at his mercy, your orgasm building to a crescendo. You could feel the wave crashing over you, your insides clenching around him, milking his cock as he continued to pound into you. One of his hands playing with your front.
"Cum for me, you worthless bitch," he growled, his own release nearing.
You cried out, your orgasm overwhelming you, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Valentino followed suit, groaning loudly as he filled you with his seed, your body trembling as he came inside you.
He pulled out, leaving you panting and shaking, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. Valentino stood up, wiping the sweat from his forehead before lighting a smoke.
After taking some puffs at he grabbed your body once more, “V-Val??” You question in confusion, and the look he gives was so demeaning.
“Bitch, are y’a dumb? Don’t tell me you thought this was over already.” Was all he said before resuming….
Here you were, on the verge of passing out, body full of cuts, hand, teeth, and whip prints all over your body.
"You're lucky I love you," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of affection. "But don't you ever fucking test my patience again, amorcito."
You nodded, with the both of you knowing that it was a lie, you would definitely act out again.
Finally, your body lulled to dreamland.
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⌁ Vox ⌁
Listen, despite his constant complaints about everyone's incompetence and having to clean up after their mess, he finds himself unable to do the same when it comes to you.
But, ‘fuck, did he adores your brattiness.’ It's not that he particularly enjoys dealing with your attitude; rather, it's the journey to the aftermath of your actions that captivates him. Overall, the right to fuck all of his day’s frustration into you!
Take, for instance, a meeting—perhaps not the most crucial, but still relevant, especially as it is concerning one of his latest products on the market.
Suddenly, you would barge into the meeting room, whining about him not giving you enough attention and accusing him of being all about work.
He would sweet talk you into silence until the meeting concluded, but that didn't imply you felt obligated to completely behave. As the meeting continued, you ended up seated on his lap, grinding yourself on his crotch.
Immediately after the meeting concluded and the conference room was emptied, he would lock the door. Then bend you over the spacious table, he pressed your head against the cold wood and proceeded to unleash a waterfall of insults, flowing from his mouth kin to water from a faucet.
He would fuck you so intensely that the both of you would almost lost sight of the initial cause. Almost, though you might have blurred the memory, he certainly hadn't. So as soon as his workday concluded, he would take you once again in his private quarters.
Forcing you to ‘repent for being such impudent slut,' reducing you to tears with his rough handling and verbal abuse.
Today was an incredibly dull day in hell. Wandering around the pentagram on the Vees' turf, you had an escort by your side as per Vox's requirement for taking a stroll outside.
There seemed to be nothing to do, or at least it felt that way. You managed to grab a cup of coffee, but beyond that, nothing fun was available, entering clubs required asking Vox's for his permission first. This ensured that he could assemble a larger entourage to guarantee your safety when you wanted to partake in the activity.
Despite your inclination to fuck with him, you refrained, recognizing that would be too much on his already overworked heart – he'd be more worried than irritated.
Opting for a tamer approach, you aimed to provoke him and get under his skin. Your goal was to distract Vox from his work, shifting his focus to entertain you. Making him jealous seemed the most effective strategy in your eyes, and that's where your escort, a tall and attractive hellhound, entered the scene.
Aware that Vox had eyes throughout the pentagram, particularly in this area, you initiated your plan with this knowledge in mind.
You strolled with your arm around the hellhound, falsely fawning over his looks and intellect, toying with his hair and even embracing him—all visible to Vox. Despite his busy schedule, Vox always kept an eye on you through the multitude of screens around pentagram city. And the sight of you so cozied up with the hellhound, left him seething.
What intensified the situation was your final gesture. As you bid farewell in front of the Vees' tower, you made the hellhound lean down for a thank-you kiss on the cheek, this fuelling your boyfriend's rage and insecurities. After that, you simply entered the building, mentally preparing for the upcoming interaction with Vox.
As you exited the elevator, Vox stood right in front, evidently having anticipated your return. As you locked eyes with him, the flames of anger and jealousy practically radiated from his gaze. It seemed your somewhat sadistic display had made a number on him.
"Hey, Vox, baby. How's it going? I thought you were too busy to step out of your office," you nonchalantly remarked, playing the coy card. Before you knew it, one of his clawed hands circled your waist, while the other firmly grasped your chin.
"Yeah, I was one incredibly busy man this morning, busting my ass to keep this shit show afloat. However, my partner seems to be utterly indifferent to it all. It looked as if they couldn't care less, with the way they were all over that hellhound-nobody," he remarks, his hand at your waist pressing into your skin.
"Oh, what on sweet hell could you be referring to?" you playfully feign innocence, this only aggravating your boyfriend's frustration.
"Do play games with me, whore. You know exactly what you were up to, the fact have eyes everywhere, and despite today's incident, I won't fire that guy because he's loyal." His face inches closer to yours, "If you were so desperate for my cock that you went out of your way to mess with me, you could’ve said so baby~ And I would’ve had you sucking me off as I work. But noooo, you just had to be be a a fucking slut and piss me off. Now let's see where that misbehaviour gets you, bitch.”
Now, bent over his lap, bottoms off, you endure the consequences as he delivers hits to your behind, while he casually sipped on a glass of whiskey;
You flinched slightly at each slap, but didn't dare to yell or struggle. Instead, you bit your lower lip and whimpered softly, your body trembling with each impact.
Your mind raced with thoughts of how much you deserved this punishment, how much you craved it.
"Please, sir, stop, it hurt ‘so much!" you whimpered between each strike, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll be a good, I promise."
"You’ll be good? Ha! What a fucking joke. You're lucky I don't break your pretty little neck right here and now. But since you asked nicely, maybe I'll i won’t hurt you as bad, this once. Now stand up straight and face me like the disobedient whore you are."
Slowly, you stood up straight, your legs trembling slightly as you awaited his next move. "Thank you, sir."
"That's better," he said putting his drink down on the nightstand, his voice laced with distain yet also a hint of satisfaction. "Now, strip for me."
You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to push your luck or not. But then again, you knew better than to defy him twice in a row. Slowly, you took off your sweater, removing a layer of heat.
Next came the your top, you began to undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing your chest.
You stood there, naked and ass completely bare, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet somehow aroused by the power he held over you.
"Turn around," he commanded coldly. Reluctantly, you turned around, your ass wiggling seductively as you did so. "Now, get on the bed, all fours, and face the mirror."
You complied reluctantly, feeling your heart race with anticipation mixed with fear. You knew what was coming next, but it didn't make it any easier to endure. You could feel his presence looming over you, his heat radiating off his body.
"That’s it bitch," he praised, his voice dripping with false reassurance. "Now, spread your legs."
You widened your stance, exposing your parts to him, the scent of arousal filling the air around you. "That's a good whore," he complimented, his hand reaching out to grab your hair and pull your head back forcefully, so you would be looking straight at the mirror.
"Look at me," he growled, his eyes boring into yours through the reflection. "Do you understand what happens to misbehaving sluts like you?"
"No," you managed to croak out, your voice barely above the sound of your pounding heart. "I-I don't know."
"Then let me educate you," he said coldly, his hand reaching out to slap your ass hard enough to leave a mark. "This is what happens to disobedient whores like you." Meanwhile he had removed his other hand from your hair, using it it to play with your front, ‘how kind of him~’
With each slap, his hand left a stinging mark on your ass, making it throb with each impact. The pain mixed with the humiliation and arousal, making it difficult for you to think straight. You squirmed and whimpered, trying to escape the torment but knowing it was futile.
"Please, sir," you begged between slaps, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'll be good. Just give me something more, please."
"You're sorry now? Too late for apologies, greedy bitch," he spits. But after a moment of consideration, he seems to have a change of perspective. With a wide grin on his face, “Okay then,” he says, releasing you and getting himself confortable on the bed. “Crawl over here and worship my cock, and I’ll consider forgiving you."
With shaking legs, you crawled towards him, your eyes locked on his hardened member, throbbing with desire through the fabric of his expensive pants. You reached out and undid them, pulling down his boxers and wrapped your lips around the head. Taking as much of his cock into your mouth as you could.
"Fuck," he says a bit breathless, this followed by his hand roughly grabbing your hair and pulling your head back and forth, face-fucking you.
"That’s right, show me how much you want me, how much you need my cock inside you."
You moaned around his cock, sucking and slurping greedily, your tongue swirling around the head, trying to please him. Your hands reached up, grasping his thighs, leaving wrinkles on the fabric as you held on tightly.
"Good," he praised, his voice becoming more husky with desire. "Now, let’s go back to the previous position." He tells you, forcefully pulling you off his dick.
With that you had his hand at your hole, rubbing and teasing your entrance "Spread your legs wider, and besides that, don't move a muscle."
You obeyed, spreading your legs wider, exposing yourself fully to him. He continued to tease and torment you, spiting on his fingers, he then digs into your sensitive spot, making you moan and writhe in pleasure mixed with pain.
"Tell me you're mine, bitch, that you belong to me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me you'll do whatever I want, whenever I want."
"I'm yours, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with each word. "I'll do anything you want!"
"That's better," he purred, his fingers leaving your hole and moving to your nipples instead. He pinched and twisted them mercilessly, causing you to arch your back and cry out at the painfully mix of sensation.
"Now, beg me to claim you as my own, not anyone else,"
"Please, Vox, claim me as yours," you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm yours, I belong to you. Take me however you want, whenever you want."
"Seems like your not completely braindead after all," he sorta praises, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Keep your legs open like that."
"Yes, Vox," you managed to mumble out, your voice trembling with fear and arousal.
“That’s it," his voice dripping with false affection. "You better be ready, because I’m still pissed."
Without warning, he grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back forcefully, exposing your neck to him. "This is for disobeying me earlier today," he growled, his sharp teeth shining in the light as he bit down hard on your neck. His teeth sank deep into your skin, sure to leave a mark.
As he moved to bite another spot, you writhed and squirmed beneath him, unable to escape his hold. His tongue darted out to clean up the blood that trickled down your throat. Meanwhile, his other hand reached between your legs one more, finding your front and playing with it vigorously, driving you wild with desire.
"You taste so fucking good, slut," he growled as his mouth was now at your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. "Don’t fucking play with me again like that what you did today, understand?"
"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out between gasps, your body trembling with the combination of pain and pleasure. "I won’t.” A lie you were both aware of.
"That's a good bitch," he praised, releasing your neck and licking the mark he had left on your neck clean. His hands now solely focused on making you climax, in addition he would let out some electricity coarse through his and consequently your body.
Your body still trembling with the aftermath of his earlier assault, and his current touches weren’t helping you to stabilize. Your eyes rolled back as you felt close, ‘close to finally cumming.’
"Look at yourself, Y/N," he tells, his voice low and demeaning, well aware you couldn’t look at your self with the way we’re rolled back. "So fucking pathetic and needy for release… Beg for it.”
And so you did, "P-please, Vox... I need it so bad," you begged, your voice cracking with desire. "Please, let me cum."
His laughter reverberated in your ears as he continued to tease you mercilessly. "You want it so badly, don't you?" he asked, his fingers working faster and harder between your legs, more and more shocks divulging from him.
Your mind drifted away from reality as you felt the edge of orgasm getting closer and closer, your body tensing up in anticipation. "Please, Vox!" you cried out, unable to resist any longer.
"Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Do you understand your place in this world and how you belong by my side only?"
"Yes, Vox," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing.
And a simple, “Cum.” was all it took for you to completely let go and the waves of pleasure take your body over….
You winced in pain while observing your reflection in the mirror. Bruises and bite marks adorned your body, and your swollen ass bore the aftermath of his restless assault. Dried tears stained your cheeks.
Then, Vox tenderly stroked your head, followed by a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Love you, babes, but don’t fuck with me like that again"
An ‘okay’ was all you had said before falling asleep.
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✮ Velvette ✮
Despite possessing a sharp tongue herself, she has zero tolerance for sassiness or misbehavior. It's strictly 'her way or the highway, bitch!'
A single word out of place, and she'd swiftly grab your face, calling you out and issuing a stern warning to behave, unless you wanted to witness her truly angry.
Naturally, her warnings failed to deter you from persisting in your bratty behaviors; 'it didn't before, so why should it now?'
Turns out getting on Velvette bad side, wasn't as smooth sailing as your moment of unwarranted confidence led you to believe.
You might have casually stroll through her studio, engaging in conversation with her employees, consequently diverting their attention from work.
All this, despite their already tight schedule that you were acutely aware of, thanks to Velvette's hours-long bitching about it.
Nonetheless, you proceeded with your plan. In all honesty, given the hectic schedule leading up to the fashion show, Velvette had minimal time for you. Despite her efforts to squeeze out a few moments, the occasional 30 minutes a day left you unsatisfied.
If she wasn't going to provide the attention you craved, ‘you were determined to seek it elsewhere, easy peezy—‘ or so you believed.
Spotting you getting overly friendly with one of her models, she would forcefully pull you into a changing room, securing your wrist against the wall with one hand while using the other around your throat.
Insult would escape her lips as she vowed to in-still proper discipline in you in a more physical manner if simple phrases like 'I'm busy right now' failed to do the trick.
After leaving distinctive bite marks on your neck and collar, and leaving you with panting breath and puffy lips from an intense make-out session, she would resume her work. However, she would promise to teach you a lesson later that night as she exited the dressing room.
Honestly, among all three of the Vees, she was the only one with the decency not to do you in public.
"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch," Velvette exclaimed before storming out of her office, leaving you alone, bound, with vibrators attached to stimulate your body.
Now, how did it come to this? Let's rewind to 10:30 a.m.;
Velvette had overslept by an hour, throwing her entire schedule off, and in the world of fashion and social media, an hour is practically an eternity.
Despite consistently projecting an image of superiority, she was visibly rattled by being late. Knowing she couldn't control or turn back time, she relied on meticulous planning to leash the day. She's a bit of a control freak, if you hadn't noticed.
After a challenging morning of tackling voicemails and addressing urgent missed calls, Velvette managed to regain her momentum. Things were sailing smoothly until Valentino made an appearance.
Apparently, one of his employees had been shot in the face the previous night, resulting in a disfigurement that rendered them unable to participate in the planned movie.
Clearly frustrated, Valentino stormed into Velvette's studio to bitch about the situation, throwing things around and even ripping apart one of Velvette’s workers. This compelled her to call in a backup model, with rates that would disrupt her budget.
Not only did Velvette find this model too expensive, but she also disapproved of their overly flirtatious attitude.
And that's where you entered the picture, making her already lousy day even more exasperating. You had awakened about 10 minutes after Velvette, disturbed by her loud conversations on the phone.
However, it didn't bother you too much since your morning routine wasn't significantly affected by the late wake-up call. As Velvette's sugar baby and partner, she paid you to prepare home-cooked meals, be there to listen to her vent, and look good. As long as you weren’t the one who’s oversleep, you were in the clear.
In contrast to her hectic morning, yours unfolded at a slow and leisurely pace. You took your time with skincare and haircare, even savoring the breakfast you had prepared while Velvette rushed through hers to catch the elevator to her studio.
Despite disliking seeing her frowning and rushed in the mornings, you had held your tongue, aware that she wasn't in the mood to be told so. Besides, you couldn't help but smile when you noticed she had still laid out your outfit of the day despite her hurried state.
As half past noon approached, you descended in the elevator to her studio, carrying a warm lunch. Knowing she needed some persuasion to take a break from work and eat, even though she paid you to prepare her meals.
When she initially dismissed you upon your approach, it wasn't surprising. That was the usual routine. However, typically, after 15-25 minutes, she'd relent. Well, that was the norm. This time, an hour had passed, and she still adamantly refused to pause.
Bored and hungry, the usual scene of you two enjoying a shared meal and exchanging affectionate words was absent. Normally, you'd be showering her with praise, boosting her pride and motivation with each word. ‘This was how things were supposed to be,’ you thought, yet here you were, seated on a plush satin-covered chair in a corner of the spacious room.
Contemplating leaving altogether, considering nobody in the studio cared about your presence except Velvette, and she was currently too busy to notice. As you prepared to depart, a manicured hand rested on your shoulder.
"Well, hello there, sweetheart. What's a pretty thing like you doing all alone?" inquired the attractive woman with whom you soon found yourself engaging in conversation with. Unbeknownst to you, she was the backup model Velvette disliked but had to call in.
What you did know was that from her flirty attitude, to the fact she was feeling you up and the eye fucking she was giving you, that woman was definitely hitting on you.
You also knew you should have told her that you were with Vel, but after feeling ignored and abandoned since this morning, it felt refreshing to have someone finally pay attention to you.
Around 2:25 p.m., Velvette finally took a break from work, envisioning a moment to share lunch with you and perhaps find comfort in your embrace.
However, that dreamy scenario shattered when she looked your way and spotted 'that bitch Bridgette Bastia' not only flirting with you, her hand around your waist, but also eating away at HER LUNCH.
To make matters worse, Bridgette whispered things in your ear, leading to giggles.
Unlike Valentino, Velvette wasn't one to tear employees apart; she preferred the more elegant approach of firing them.
However, witnessing the girl cozying up to you fueled a desire in her to do something far less refined. She wanted nothing more than stab the chick to death(well, second death).
When Velvette confronted you about the proximity between you and the model, you had the audacity to respond with a cheeky "What's wrong, babes? Thought you were busy," accompanied by a sly expression and tone.
In a fit of rage, Velvette pushed Bridgette away and seized your wrist, forcefully ushering you into her office and slamming the door shut behind you;
"Today is already a mess, but you had to make it worse, you ungrateful bitch. Allowing that cunt to touch you so freely! Are you that much of a whore that you can't stand to not have someone laying their hands on you for a moment?" Velvette spat at you, accentuating her anger with a furious fist slam.
She yearned to make you suffer for intensifying her frustration, but hitting wasn't her style, and mere verbal assaults wouldn't suffice. That's when what she considered a brilliant idea struck her.
Utilizing her clothing transformation ability, she effortlessly rendered you completely exposed and bound with a mere swipe of her finger. Your once classy outfit morphed into an intricate arrangement of tied ropes, forming a captivating star-shaped pattern across your chest, in addition to a blindfold obscuring your vision, leaving you helpless in both movement and sight.
To escalate matters, she procured a vibrator from her office drawer and a ball gag she had used for a recent BDSM-themed shoot.
"You want to play the part of a needy slut, so I'll treat you as such," she whispered into your ear.
Following that, she attached the vibrator to your parts, setting it to medium vibration. It was intense enough to make your body react, but not strong enough to get you off.
"Behave until I return," she stated before departing, leaving you alone and exposed in the secluded offices.
Feeling the sensation of the vibrations consuming you, you clung to the hope that she was merely bluffing and would return soon.
Yet, you were well aware not to rely on that expectation. Once Velvette made up her mind, nothing you could say or do would alter her decision. ‘Knowing her, it wouldn't be surprising if she left you in that room until the end of her workday.’
As time passed the vibrations continued to pulse through your body, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and arousal. Velvette's actions were surprising but far from unpredictable. She had always been domineering and controlling, but this was on a whole new level.
You couldn't help but wonder how long you would be left like this, 3 hours had already passed by now, 2 more and the day would be over. ‘Did she forget you were in there, or was she intentionally keep you bound and stimulated to teach you a lesson?’
Your mind began to race with thoughts of escape. With your hands tied, it wouldn't be easy, but surely you could find a way to free yourself. The sensation of vibrator was becoming more intense with each passing minute, making it harder to concentrate on your predicament.
As you wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a way to release yourself, the door to the office creaked open. You tensed up, hoping it was Velvette, ready to release you from your captive state.
But instead, it was none other than Valentino, a cloud of red smoke surrounding him, and a smirk appearing on his face as he took in the sight before him.
"Well, well, look who we have here," Valentino drawled with his condescending smirk, his eyes inspecting your bound and stimulated form. "I guess you've managed to piss off our dear Velvette, huh? Serves you right. I've always known you were spoiled little bitch that didn’t know their place."
He sauntered over to you, his black heel boots clicking against the hardwood floor. "Thought you could get away with flirting with another woman right in her studio? You're a dumber than I if you thought she'd let that slide."
He leaned in close, his breath hot and rank against your ear. "She's got a mean streak, you know. You should have just waited patiently instead of pulling that kind of stunt. I’d keep my eyes peeled and my mouth shut from then on if I were you."
With that, Valentino turned on his heel and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room now filled with smoke with your humiliation and aching body…
About 10 minutes later Velvette stormed into the office, her face twisted in anger. She had received a text message from Valentino, no doubt gloating about the situation he had just witnessed.
Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene before her: you, bound and stimulated, with a look of both embarrassment and arousal on your face.
Velvette's lips curled into a sneer as she stepped into the room, a mixture of anger and amusement playing across her features. "What a fucking mess," she muttered under her breath, crossing the room to stand before you.
"I told you to behave, and this is what happens? Valentino gets a peek at your pathetic state," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She reached down and flicked the vibrators, making you flinch and moan softly around your gag.
"Oh, look at that, you're already soaking wet," she teased, her fingers tracing the contours of the vibrator attached to you. "I can't believe I have to deal with this. And here I thought you were smarter than that.”
Velvette couldn't resist the urge to taunt you further, her fingers gently probing your slick, throbbing intimates. She knew full well the effect it would have on you, and the way you squirmed only fueled her desire to humiliate you.
"You're so wet, darling. It's almost as if you enjoyed having Valentino see you like this," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I'll make sure to tell him how wet you got from the embarrassment. Bet that moth fucker would love that, and so would you."
Obviously you weren’t into Valentino, and seeing like that you was the last you had wanted. So of course you violently shook your head in didn’t disagreement at the mention of her telling him more about your current interactions.
Thought being rendered Velvette’s pathetic bitch was hot, and an observer only reaffirmed the situation. ‘So maybe him walking in wasn’t ‘that’ unpleasant—‘
Her fingers danced against your most sensitive spots, eliciting strangled moans from you. "You're such a terrible liar, you know that? I can always see right through you," she continued, her voice a mixture of anger and arousal.
Despite your frustration and embarrassment, you couldn't deny the pleasure coursing through you with each touch from Velvette's skilled fingers. Her words and actions were cruel, yet they only seemed to heighten your arousal. As some sort of grace, she had removed the gag from you.
"It's not my fault he came in here," you whimpered . "I didn't invite him."
"Oh, please," Velvette scoffed, her fingers continuing their dance. "You're always looking for attention, always seeking validation from others. It's disgusting." Obviously she knew what she was saying was bullshit but it was fun taunt.
She increased the pressure, your body arching in response. "You should be grateful I haven't given you to him yet. He'd probably enjoy watching you squirm even more than I do."
Her words stung, but they also fueled your arousal. You knew she was right; you did crave attention, and Velvette's treatment of you only made it worse.
"Please, Velvette," you pleaded, your voice barely audible. "I'm sorry. Just let me cum please." Hours of stimulation plus the added stimulation had become to much for you, if you didn’t cum soon you would go crazy.
Velvette smirked at your plea, her fingers slowing down for a moment. "Oh, you want to cum, is that so?" she purred, stepping closer to you. "And what makes you thing you deserve it, huh? After your behaviour today, you’re gonna have to earn it."
She reached down and untying the vibration, removing it from your body altogether. "Now, you're going to eat me out and beg for me to make you cum. If you do a good job, I might just let you."
You felt a mixture of relief and panic as the vibrators were removed. While your body ached for release, the idea of pleasuring Velvette made you both nervous and excited, especially because your climax depended on it.
"Don't disappoint me," she warned, her eyes locked on yours. "I'm not in the mood for any more disobedience."
With a final glare, she stepped back, giving you room to kneel before her. Your heart raced as you watched her unzip her pants, revealing pretty pussy.
You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking between Velvette's smirking face and the task ahead of you. You could feel the tension in your body, the need to cum be touched overwhelming. But you knew you had no choice but to obey.
Mustering your courage, you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to trace the edge of Velvette's lace panties. The fabric was slick with arousal, and you knew she was already wet for you. She removed the arrival clothing herself as you were still bound.
With a deep breath, you began to lick and suck, your hands in fist to bring yourself some security. Velvette's hands threaded through your hair, guiding you as you tasted her.
"That's it, slut," she hissed, her voice low and dark. "Show me how sorry you are."
You redoubled your efforts, licking and nibbling at her skin, flicking your tongue against her clit. Velvette's breath hitched, her fingers tightening in your hair.
"Fuck, that feels good," she growled, her body arching into your mouth. "But you still haven't earned your orgasm."
You knew she was right, and you concentrated on pleasing her, your tongue working in tandem. Velvette's moans grew louder, her thighs shaking.
"You're doing well, Y/N," she said, her voice a ragged whisper. "But you still have a long way to go."
Velvette's voice was sharp, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled your head back. "Apologize for talking to that model," she demanded, her eyes like ice. "Admit that you were in the wrong,”
You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. Saying the words would be humiliating, but you needed relief.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice breathy. "I shouldn't have talked to her. I was wrong."
Velvette's fingers loosened, her eyes narrowing. “Better,” she said, her voice still icy. "Now finish making me come, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you cum."
You augmented your efforts, your tongue working with renewed vigor. Velvette's moans grew louder, her body trembling.
"You're close," you murmured against her folds, your own arousal reaching new heights, despite being the one getting dominated it was still hot to see her all shaky.
Velvette's body tensed, her moans growing louder as you brought her to orgasm. Her release washed over you, her juices coating your tongue and face.
"Good bitch," she panted, her body shuddering.
With that, Velvette pulled you to your feet, your bodies pressed together. Her fingers found your front once more, teasing you before starting to jerk you.
"Spread your legs," she ordered, her voice harsh. "I want a good view of your pretty body."
You complied, your heart racing. Velvette's hands played you like a fiddle, her gaze locked on your face.
"You're so wet," she said, her voice a mix of satisfaction and anger. "No wonder Valentino was so fucking smug about it."
Your body throbbed, the need for release growing stronger. Velvette's hands moved faster, her gaze never leaving your face.
"Beg me for it," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Beg me to make you cum."
You hesitated, your breath hitching. Asking for her permission felt like a betrayal of yourself, but you needed relief.
"Please, Velvette," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I need to cum. Please let me cum."
Her fingers paused for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so desperate, aren't you?" she purred, her fingers resuming their pace.
She increased her pace, her hands toying with you with expert precision. Your body ached, your moans growing louder.
"Tell me how much you want it," she commanded, her voice a low growl. "Tell me how much you need to cum."
You hesitated, your face flushing, but you needed her permission.
"I need it, Velvette," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need to cum so bad."
Her fingers slowed, her eyes never leaving your face. "You better make a good show, slut," she said, her voice tight. "Or I'll make you wait even longer next time."
Velvette's hands going faster, your body arching in response. You could feel the orgasm building, your breath coming in short bursts.
"That's it, Y/N," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Come for me."
With a final surge, you came, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. Velvette's hnads never stopped, her thumb brushing against your most sensitive part.
"That’s my good bitch," she said, her voice satisfied. "Now, I think it's time for a reward."
She pulled her fingers from your body, her eyes locked on your face. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours. The kiss was rough, her tongue probing your mouth.
Velvette pulled away, her eyes still locked on yours. "You'll learn to behave next time, won't you?" she asked, her voice soft but firm.
You nodded, your body still trembling from your orgasm. As much as the experience had been humiliating and degrading, there was something thrilling about it, too.
"Yes, Velvette," you whispered, feeling both exhausted and satisfied.
With that she untied you, dressed you back up and sent you on your merry way to your shared room…
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𝐕 Valentino & Vox 𝐕
Is one cock truly not enough for you, greedy whore~
Firstly, what possessed you to believe that engaging in any kind of relationship with both of them was an intelligent idea? Dealing with one is bad enough, but two? Are y’a crazy bitch?! (By the way, the bitch is me, I need these motherfucker to tag team me. Now that this is said, no more interruptions.)
Initially, this situation would be chaotic, not only due to the on and off relationship these two shared but now, you're also giving them attitude? ‘Who the fuck do you think you are?!’
The atmosphere would swiftly shift, with Val embodying his short-tempered self, and Vox grappling with frustration, both using you as some sort of stress reliever as they would fuck you until they were relaxed.
Picture this: Val once again enraged at an employee, Vox desperately attempting to pacify him. You entering the room, trying to innocently retrieving your charger left there this morning—‘nothing too troublesome, nothing to escalate their moods, right?’
Well, not quite. The catch is that your attire was entirely off the mark. Despite it being a Wednesday, the designated day for pink attire as Val had explicitly stated, your outfit missed the mark.
And it wasn't just Val overseeing your wardrobe; Vox had explicitly forbidden overly revealing clothing, especially when walking through the Vees' tower where anyone could catch an eyeful of you.
The burning question on both of their minds, as you discreetly attempted to grab your belongings and make your exit, was: 'Why the fuck were you in that skimpy red outfit?!' (It’s also that fucking radio demon’s color! — Vox)
It wouldn't take long for the situation to escalate into a heated argument. You asserting your independence, claiming the right to wear whatever you pleased, and their response insisting you belonged to them, hence you would dress as instructed. In addition, you would also insults their masculinity and critiques of their chosen attire for the day, as some sort of pay back.
Controlling your clothing marked an expression of their intense possessiveness. Despite its occasional annoyance, you found it fucking thrilling to be both their lover and plaything.
And as you would flip them off and attempting to leave the room, you'd feel a pair of clawed arms wrapping around you, digging into your flesh and forcefully pulling you back in. With that you would end up all tied up, and edge by those two shitheads. Malicious grins plastered on their faces.
If 'dressing like a depraved bitch in heat and act out,' was what you whole heartedly desired, then they would just have to mold you into a well-behaved little thing, one way or another.
Eventually, you'd be so thoroughly overwhelmed and overstimulated that the thought of defying them, or anything thought for that matter, would be far from your mind. But ‘hey, a win is a win!’
The day kicked off on a hot, particularly for your two Overlord boyfriends….
Valentino tenderly woke you with a kiss on your hair, while Vox used tender words to bring you back to reality.
"Y/N, sweetheart, time to wake up," Vox said, your body jerking awake. As you rubbed your eyes, Valentino left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to jaw. "We wouldn't want our sweet Y/N eating breakfast alone," he whispered into your ear.
You pulled away the covers, stood up, and let out a satisfied groan as you stretched. Continuing with your morning routine, you decided to spice things up when having taken a glance at your fully laid out outfit of the day.
Facing your fully clothed boyfriends on the heart-shaped bed, you sensually removed your pajamas, earning a whistle from Valentino and an open-mouthed stare from Vox.
Fully nude, you executed a reverse striptease, putting on your fresh clothes with the same sexed up attitude you just had when shedding yourself of your pyjama.
Once dressed, you completed your look, including jewelry, hair, skincare, and makeup. Slipping away to the kitchen, you avoided the customary morning kiss, leaving your lovers slightly irked.
Your deliberate avoidance continued at the breakfast table, and although they were busy, your actions left them with a slightly sour mood due to the absence of the usual morning ritual.
Meanwhile, you reveled in the small power trip of influencing the moods of these powerful men with such little actions.
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Several hours had elapsed, and it was now lunchtime. Knowing Val, he was likely already enjoying his meal, while your TV-headed boyfriend, Vox, was likely too absorbed in his usual surveillance to remember the existence of food.
Being the thoughtful partner you were, you whipped up something delicious and nutritious, heading to the underground watching room before Vox could realize his hunger and order his usual unhealthy fast food.
Despite his argument that the food he consumed you considered ‘shitty’ was quicker and simpler to get a hold of, you knew the toll it took on his energy, sleep, and mood swings. So once you became close enough to speak your mind, you had 'aggressively kindly' nudged him toward a better diet;
As the lift platform halted, holding a picnic basket, you walked the catwalk towards Vox's chair. Catching him fixated on the screens with no food in sight, you leaned in and playfully said, "boo!" prompting a high-pitched scream from Vox, earning a smirk from you and a groggy reaction from him.
However, his demeanor swiftly changed as he received the first kiss of the day from you and noticed the basket in your hand, realizing it was likely a meal you had prepared to share.
Grabbing the basket, he placed it on his desk and pulled you onto his lap by the hips. You both began eating, with you feeding him – a domestic sight only accessible to you and the other Vees.
As you continued to feed Vox, you couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. You started grinding your hips against his lap, feeling his growing erection beneath you. Your hand slid up and down his thigh, sending electric shocks through his body. He groaned into his food, clearly enjoying the attention.
After you finished our meal, you stood up, playfully caressing the edge of his screen and smirking at the eager expression on Vox's face. "You know what, Voxy? You seem mighty stressed to me, and I feel it’s only right for me to do something about it, right?"
His eyes widened in anticipation, and you could see the hint of a blush on his TV screen. you leaned in close to his ear, your lips grazing the monitor as you whispered, "You wanted that, don’t you?. emphasizing your words by grinding against him once more.
Vox couldn't help but moan softly at the thought of what you had planned for him. His eyes darted around the screens, trying to find a way to distract himself from the tempting proposition, but that did nothing to help his heighten arousal.
As you began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, he bit his lip to stifle another moan. "I can't believe you're doing this right after lunch," he murmured, his voice trembling with desire. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that, right?"
You chuckled softly, a wicked glint in your eyes as you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. Your fingers deftly undid the final buttons and pulled his pants down, revealing his already hard member. A smirk graced your lips as you teased him by trailing your fingertips along the length of his cock.
Vox's breath hitched, his eyes closing tightly as he tried to maintain control. You leaned in closer, the warmth of your breath causing him to shiver. "You're so hard for me, Vox," you taunted, but soon got to the task ahead.
You eagerly took Vox's length into your mouth, you tongue tracing the vein that ran down the underside of his member. You sucked him diligently, your cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, your eyes locked on his. Vox's fingers threaded through your hair, his breath coming in sharp gasps as the pleasure washed over him.
As the sensations built, his hips began to buck, his moans growing louder and more urgent. Just as he was about to reach his peak, you pulled back, a wicked grin on your face. Causing Vox to let out a dissatisfied whine.
So with a giggle, you stood up, you kissed the side of his monitor and quickly took your leave before he could fully register that you had left him panting and desperate.
As he regained his senses, his mood was certainly not the best,— let’s just say he was pissed when he was force to take care of the erection you had caused.
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Continuing with your day, it was now a quarter past four, and you knew Valentino was still shooting. With the same mischievous spirit you had when you visited Vox, you headed to Valentino’s studio.
Luck was on your side as they were on a 10-minute break, so Val wouldn’t be bothered by your sudden arrival. In fact, he seemed delighted to see you, welcoming you with a hug that involved all four of his arms.
In return for his affection, you gave him some of yours, expressing it with a soft, sweet, and brief kiss. But of course, the overlord of lust and depravity wasn’t satisfied with such a short gesture, especially considering the state you’d put him in since that morning with your little stunt.
With two arms propping you up and the others encircling you, he pulled you in closer, one hand lifting your chin to bring your lips together. And oh, what a kiss it was.
Your kiss was far from gentle; it was a collision of desire and intensity, fueled by primal instincts and raw passion. He drew you closer, if that was even possible, his hands gripping you fiercely as your lips met with a hunger that bordered on desperation. There was an urgency to your embrace, a need to consume each other completely. Your mouths moved hungrily against each other, teeth clashing and tongues dueling in a fierce battle for dominance—a battle that Valentino obviously won.
His touch was possessive, leaving trails of fire in its wake as he explored every inch of your skin with a roughness that sent shivers down your spine. You responded in kind, your nails digging into his back.
Your kiss was a whirlwind of passion and desire, leaving you both breathless and panting when you finally parted.
As he lowered you down, you felt slightly dizzy, ‘must be Val’s toxins’. It was then that you noticed some staff members had stopped their work just to watch you, and you couldn't help but shoot Valentino a glare after assessing the situation as ‘that bastard knew you were being watch but didn’t say shit so that his employee stopped, even a simple wave from him would’ve have done the trick’. However, he only chuckled in response.
Taking his place in his director's chair, he stared at you intently before patting his lap. “Won’t you stay with papi and watch? After all, you did spend lunch with Voxxy. Won’t you do this for me, cariño?” he asked, his request momentarily distracting you from your thoughts.
It took you a moment to comply, your mind still processing the mention of lunch with Vox. ‘Had Vox told him what you’d done? Probably not, knowing Vox wouldn’t admit to being played like a fiddle by you. Then how—oh yeah, Vox took a selfie while you were feeding him, and he likely sent it to Val.’
With that revelation out of your mind, you settled into Valentino’s lap, one of his arms around your waist while the other had already started traced patterns on your thigh.
As the shoot began, you decided that Valentino should also get some of your ‘special attention’. With that in mind, you started to roll your hips. However, Valentino was quick to stop you in your tracks, his hand on your waist drawing you closer while the one on your throat and another on your thigh roughly squeezed the flesh as a way to say ‘stop’.
You listened to his warning, for a moment... stopping for 5 minutes or so before starting again, earning a hitched breath from the tall moth. His hold became more aggressive, slightly bending forward to whisper in your ear, “You’re really testing my patience, mi amor, and I’d suggest you stop unless you want me to fuck you right here and there in front of everyone.”
But you replied coyly with, “I don’t know what you're talking about,” emphasizing your words with another roll of your hips.
Despite Valentino being a sex maniac, just like Vox, he had grown too possessive to let others see you in such an intimate position, not even as punishment. So his current threat was all bark and no bite, and you both knew it.
He quickly realized that you knew, which caused him to ‘tsk’ and sit back. The man was too prideful to admit you were affecting him to the point where he couldn’t focus on his work properly. So his plan was to wait it out, to wait until the end of the shoot so he could put you in your place.
But by now, you knew him and his work too well. So, 30 minutes before it was over, you got up, informing Val that you had to go on a ‘bathroom break’. Of course, he allowed it, playing the role of the unaffected and non-retaliating.
But the catch that Valentino hadn’t anticipated was, this wasn’t a bathroom break; you had just run away without him noticing, leaving him to take care of his hard one just like you had done with Vox.
You giggled as you sat on your bed, thinking about how he would react when the shoot finally ended and everything clicked. And since you were already long gone, for time efficiency, he would just move on to the next shoot instead of chasing after you.
After all, he was on a time crunch; he probably only had 20 minutes or so of a break to take care of himself, definitely not enough time to find you and fuck you.
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It was now 6 p.m., and you were out and about with Velvette, having grown close through your relationships with the two boys. She found you fun, and you could say the same about her. So it wasn’t out of the ordinary when she sent a text to each of them that she was taking ‘their bitch out to party’. As usual, she didn’t listen when they told her not to; she wanted to party with her bestie, and their boyfriends definitely weren’t going to stop her.
So there you were, clubbing hard, singing along loudly, dancing your ass off, and drinking in a manner that was definitely overindulgent, but who cared? You weren’t going to die from it.
As you were chatting it up with Velvette, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with quite the good-looking hellhound. He introduced himself as Marco and thought you were cute. He wanted to see if you could get drinks together, maybe exchange numbers. He was sweet and wasn’t forcing himself on you or anything, so you spoke honestly to him.
“I’m going to level with you, Marco,” you said. “Okay,” he replied.
“You seem like a very sweet hound, but I’m currently in a wonderful relationship with the loves of my life, or is it afterlife?—anyways, what I mean to say is thanks for the offer, but I can’t accept.” You rambled due to the alcohol already in your system, and Marco expressed that he understood and was happy for you.
But then an idea came to mind. “But could I actually ask you a favour, Marco?” you inquired.
“Sure, as long as it’s not too extravagant of an ask,” he replied.
“Never. Anywho, I was wondering if you’d be down to take a selfie with me, nothing too intimate, but you’d be holding me in it, like a really close hug. I want to tease my boyfriends, and that’ll definitely do the trick,” you told him.
He pondered for a second, then a “Sure, why not?” came out.
And so the selfie-taking proceeded. You followed through on your words, nothing but his hands around your waist. You knew that would get another rise from your ‘tv head and moth man’ when they saw your new Sinstagram post.
Were they going to do anything to Marco? No. You’d say something along the lines of ‘I’ll never forgive you’ and give them the cold shoulder if they did. Plus, they’d know this was just teasing, nothing more. If you had intended to make them furious, you would have kissed the guy.
Putting your phone down after posting the selfie with a couple of different pictures from the night, you soon felt it buzz. Looking at the notifications, they were texts from Vox and Valentino. But in your drunk and teasing mindset, you decided to ignore them, just shooting a glance at Velvette, which she understood meant ‘you can text them if they ask about me, but I won’t be doing it.’
She only rolled her eyes at that look but then chuckled at the thought of the state you probably had Valentino and Vox in, because those guys had some serious jealousy issues.
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9 p.m. had hit, and you and Velvette had decided you were good for the night. So, calling your driver, you waited by the curb.
“You know they’re going to fuck the shit out of you for that little picture,” she said before taking a hit of her vape.
“Oh, I’m counting on it. That’s why I already left both of them high and dry separately today,” you replied. She looked at you, surprised for a second, then burst out laughing.
“Bitch, you’re crazy! That’s why I like you, though.” With that said, the car had finally arrived, and in about 15 minutes, you were back at the tower.
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Velvette had shot you a teasing ‘good luck’ once you both had stepped out of the elevator on the last floor.
You took off your shoes before entering your room. Pushing the door open, you were met with your two boyfriends sitting on your bed, staring straight at you. They must have been waiting for your return.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence, Val. It’s our little professional photographer," Vox remarks, his tone laced with amusement and spite.
"Oh, indeed, Vox. It seems that truly adore the art, don't they? So much so that they’ll snap a pic at any given opportunity, regardless of who they're doing it with." Val adds, his words carrying a subtle innuendo.
"Oh please, it was just a hug," you retorted dismissively as you turned away from them, starting to change out of your outing clothes.
"Just a hug? JUST A HUG?!!" Valentino's voice rose with indignation. "That mutt was practically fucking you!" he exclaimed. Despite Valentino's tendency to exaggerate, he was jumping to the guns, Marco hadn’t even been groping you, but you refrained from pointing that out.
"That hellhound shouldn’t have been in your vicinity, point blank," Vox added, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Valentino's statement.
"You two are such babies, you should stop fussing over a little selfie already," you scoffed, turning your head to look at them as you removed your last article of clothing.
Retrieving a towel from your drawer, you mentally decided it was time for a shower. In their minds, however, they were planning to make you pay for that picture and for teasing them earlier in the day.
In your mind, you were now going to take a shower, seeking solace in the calming embrace of warm water. However, in their minds, they had already made a silent pact to exact retribution for the audaciousness you had when snapping that picture and your teasing behavior throughout the day.
As you reached for the bathroom door handle, on of Valentino's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards the bed. His grip was firm but not painful, leaving no doubt that you were not going anywhere until they had made their point clear. Vox stood up and joined him, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he towered over you.
"We'll show you what happens when you play with fire, brat," Valentino growled, his voice low and threatening. Vox nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Valentino's anger.
Before you could protest or plead, they had you pinned down on the bed, your struggles met with their iron grip. Their faces hovered over yours, their anger palpable in the way their eyes burned with intensity.
Vox and Valentino started discussing strategies on how best to punish you for your transgressions, right in front of you.
"We need to teach them a lesson," Vox declared,"Something... memorable."
"Agreed," Valentino chimed in, tightening his grip on you as you tried to shuffle around "Something... painful."
"Yes, yes, something painful," Vox echoed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "We need to make sure they knows who the boss is here."
In unison, they nodded ominously, their plans solidifying rapidly.
"This is what happens when you toy with us, bébé~" Valentino hissed, his free hand reaching for a belt that he kept nearby. The sound of leather hitting flesh echoed through the room as he brought it down on your thighs, the sting of each blow making you yelp in pain and surprise.
Vox watched with approval, his own arousal growing as he saw the marks forming on your skin. He moved closer, his fingers tracing the lines that Valentino was creating.
"You see this, doll," Vox purred, his voice low and seductive, "you see what you make us do when you behave like a brat. We don’t like hurting you,” a lie. “but can’t just let you do whatever, we do not tolerate petty disobedience, I thought you’d knew that by now."
His fingers trailed down to your chest, playing your now perked nipples. You squirmed beneath their touch, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins.
Valentino paused momentarily, the belt falling limply to the side. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered "Remember this, cariño. We may love you, but that doesn’t mean you got free reins to be a bratty ass bitch."
With that, he released you, stepping back to allow Vox his turn. The television-headed demon's gaze never left your face as he took the belt from Valentino, his eyes flickering with anticipation.
Vox cracked the belt across your ass, the sharp sting catching you off guard. You cried out, your body arching involuntarily as the pain seared into your skin. But then, an unexpected warmth spread through you, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure that you couldn't quite comprehend.
Valentino watched from the corner of the room, his eyes locked onto your reactions. As you writhed beneath Vox's hand, he began undressing, slowly revealing his muscular form. He wore nothing but a pair of black silk boxers that did little to hide his arousal.
Once naked, he walked over to you, his steps confident and assured. He picked up a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand and began to tie your hands behind your back, securing your mouvement firmly. As the cuffs tightened, a jolt of arousal was sent through you.
Vox continued spanking you, alternating between the belt and his open palm. Your skin turned a darker shade, a testament to your punishment. Yet, despite the pain, you couldn't deny the rush of lust pulsating through your veins.
Finally, Vox stopped spanking you, satisfied with the sight of your reddened cheeks. He stepped back, admiring his work, before whispering softly, "Such a bad little thing, aren't you? But don't worry, we won't leave you like this. We're going to give you what you deserve."
Valentino knelt beside you, his eyes glinting with desire. He gently stroked your hair, whispering soothing words into your ear, "It's okay, amorcito. It's all going to be okay. Just let go."
Their words, combined with the physical pain, pushed you further into a state of heightened arousal. You felt your body responding to their dominance, your core throbbing in anticipation.
Valentino stood up, motioning for Vox to join him. They exchanged a heated glance, their shared desire evident. With a nod, they moved towards you, Vox taking your legs while Valentino held your torso. Together, they positioned you on your knees, your ass lifted invitingly.
Valentino reached for a bottle of lubricant from the nightstand, pouring a generous amount into his hand. He rubbed it on your entrance, preparing you for what was to come. Your breathing hitched as his cool touch met your heated core, sending shivers down your spine.
Quickly after, Vox moved behind you, his erection hard and ready. He positioned himself at your entrance, pausing briefly to grab your hair and look into your eyes. There was a mix of fear and lust in your gaze, and he smirked, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.
With a swift thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You gasped, your body adjusting to the invasion. His movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust pushing deeper inside you.
Valentino watched intently, his cock equally hard and ready. He practically couldn't wait for his turn, but first, he wanted to see the full effect of their domination on you.
Vox increased his pace, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. His grip on your hair tightened, his other hand holding onto your hip for support. Each time he slammed into you, your breasts bounced enticingly, drawing Valentino's attention.
"Look at them, Vox," Valentino said, his voice thick with desire. "See how much they wants this. How much they needs this."
Vox grunted in response, his movements becoming more erratic. He pulled you back, using your hair to lift your head, and you found yourself looking straight into his cyan-colored eyes.
"That's it, whore," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "Take it like a good little slut."
Valentino joined in, running his hands over your body, pinching your nipples roughly. His touch was both tender and cruel, eliciting moans from you.
"You like this, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a soft purr. "You love when we’re mean to you, bitch~"
Vox then pulled you up into a chokehold, applying pressure to your throat. You struggled slightly, but the combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming. Your body arched involuntarily, your climax approaching rapidly.
The pressure on your throat intensified, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Your vision blurred, your world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through you. Everywhere Vox touched felt electrified, every thrust of his hips driving you higher.
"Cum for me, bitch," Vox snarled, his voice hoarse with desire. Valentino continued to play with your nipples with his top hands, as his bottom ones took care your front.
Your release was imminent, the pressure building within you threatening to burst. You mewled, your muscles clenching around Vox, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave.
As you climaxed, Vox continued to choke you, his movements becoming wilder. You felt him swell inside you, his soon reached his climax.
Finally, he came, roaring your name as he filled you completely. He held you in the chokehold for a few more seconds before releasing you, allowing you to catch your breath.
Your breathing was hieratic as you felt your body plot down against the mattress. But to bass for you they didn’t intend on letting you rest.
Valentino stepped up behind you, his erection still throbbing. Without warning, he entered you from behind, his movements slow and deep. The sensation of being filled so so only after your first climax was quite the overstimulating one.
Without warning, Valentino pushed your head into the mattress, your face buried in the soft fabric. You gasped, feeling the sudden loss of control. He spanked you again, the sting mixing with the lingering ache from earlier.
"That's right, bitch," he growled, his voice rough. "Stay quiet. Take what I give you."
His thrusts became faster, his hips slamming into you with each movement. You could feel Vox's semen leaking out slightly, only to be replaced by Valentino's relentless pursuit.
Each strike of his hand echoed through the room, punctuating the sounds of your moans and their grunts. The pain and pleasure merged, creating a symphony of submission.
Valentino's fingers dug into your hips, gripping tightly as he pounded into you. Your body responded, moving with his rhythm, your inner walls milking him with each thrust.
Despite the pain, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being owned, of being taken by these powerful beings. Their dominance over you was absolute, and it excited you beyond measure.
As Valentino neared his own climax, he tightened his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more frantic. Your body shook beneath him, your second orgasm building quickly.
"Come for me, slut," he demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you scream!" He said as he pulled your hair, contradicting his previous statement about wanting you to be quite.
You complied, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your entire body convulsed, your nails digging into the mattress as you screamed his name.
Valentino roared, his release pulsing inside you. He stayed still for a moment, catching his breath before withdrawing slowly.
As he stepped away, you collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. The room was silent, save for your labored breaths.
Before you could recover, Valentino had wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. He entered you from behind, his size stretching you wide. Your body trembled, your nerves overwhelmed by the dual invasion.
Following suit, Vox positioned himself in front of you, his erection already hard once more. Without warning, he slid back into you, his length filling you from the front. You cried out, your body protesting the overstimulation.
"Shhh, calm down ‘bébé’," Valentino whispered in your ear, his voice husky with desire. "We're not done with you yet."
Vox started thrusting, his movements slow and measured. Valentino followed his lead, their rhythms meshing perfectly. Your body bounced between them, caught in a vice of pleasure and pain.
They didn't care about your limits, your protests falling on deaf ears. Instead, they reveled in your discomfort, their own desires guiding their actions.
Their faces were etched with concentration, their eyes locked onto yours. They seemed almost hypnotized, lost in the act of taking you.
As they continued to thrust into you, their movements became more synchronized. Their bodies moved as one, their hips slapping against each other. In sync, they leaned in, capturing each other's lips in a fierce kiss.
Tongues tangling, their passion was palpable. It was a display of obsession and possession, leaving you breathless.
But their focus wasn't solely on each other. With one hand, Valentino gripped your hair, twisting it gently. Vox reached around, caressing your chest roughly.
Their kiss broke, Vox shifting his gaze to you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved deep, claiming you as his own.
When he pulled away, Valentino took over, his lips crushing against yours in a brutal kiss. His hands wandered, cupping your face, and then moving down to your neck.
Between kisses, they continued to fuck you, their bodies merging with yours. Their actions spoke volumes - you belonged to them, and you should know better than to fuck with them.
With each kiss, your body grew more sensitive, your mind clouded with lust. Vox and Valentino fed off your reactions, their desire escalating.
"That's it, baby," Valentino murmured against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "Let go for us." He said as he let his hands wonder down to your front to increased the sensation.
Vox nodded, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Yes, cum for us."
Between kisses, they increased their pace, their movements relentless. Your climax built quickly, your body shaking beneath them.
Finally, you came, screaming into Vox's mouth. Their thrust not relenting as they chased their own orgasm.
As Vox and Valentino neared their climaxes, their thrusts grew more desperate. Sweat dripped from their bodies, mingling with yours. Their gazes locked, a silent agreement passed between them.
With a roar, Valentino thrust deep inside you, his release spilling within you. At the same time, Vox claimed you once more, his cum joining lover’s.
You all panted heavily as they remained inside you, enjoying the aftermath of their conquest.
In the silence that followed, you lay between them, exhausted and spent.
Some ‘I love you’s were shared as you all drifted off, it looks like showering will a ‘tomorrow’ type of task…
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Thanks anon for requesting!
©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize. Buy me a book. And support my art account @maviscarlettie
Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)
374 notes · View notes
cerise-on-top · 3 months
Note
Hi!!
I really love your works and writing on cod! I really enjoy reading it! ❤
Can I request Konig, Nikolai, Rudy and Alejandro reacting to reader speaking to their native tongue?
Take all the time you need! ❤🐱
Hello, I'm glad I can write something people can enjoy! And of course you can, even if I'm not sure I understood this ask perfectly! I wrote it as reader speaking the native language of the lads with them, so I hope that's okay! If you wanted reader simply speaking their own native language, please let me know! Thank you for the request, this one was very fun to write for!
Alejandro, Rodolfo, Nikolai and König with an S/O who Speaks Their Language with Them
Alejandro: He’d definitely be surprised if it comes out of nowhere, but he’s anything but mad. He can speak English fluently, has no problems whatsoever with it, but if he can speak Spanish then he definitely won’t mind either. If you’re a beginner and it’s evident by how you stutter in Spanish, then he’ll be patient with you. He’ll speak slowly and clearly so you can follow while also getting a good feel for the intonations the language has. However, when he just wants to tease you a bit then he’ll speak the way he’d usually speak while also not shutting up either. Alejandro can be eloquent in Spanish if he tries, but he barely ever does, only when he wants to confuse you with words you’d likely only hear from people who are 100 years old. The more you look like you’re in despair, the more it cracks him up. He will apologize afterwards, though, and give you a kiss on the cheek. If your Spanish is already pretty good, however, and you just wanted to surprise him, then congratulations, he’s likely going to speak a whole lot more Spanish with you than before. Just because it’s a popular language doesn’t mean everyone speaks it, so when he wants to tell you something for your ears only while there are people around, he’ll say it in Spanish. It’s comfortable for him, getting to speak his mother tongue with you. He thinks in Spanish, so it’s a whole lot easier for him as well. Tells a lot more jokes in Spanish too, even though they’re some of the worst ones the language has to offer. While they may not be Ghost-level lame, they’re something else still. Come up with your own and he’ll be so proud of you, rewarding you with more awful puns he came up with. He’s just happy he gets to share his language with you.
Rodolfo: As soon as you come up to him somewhat timidly and strike up a conversation in Spanish he’ll be a bit surprised, but absolutely smitten. Since it’s obvious you’re still learning he’ll try to use “nicer” Spanish on you, so more words that aren’t just exclusive to his dialect, or Las Almas in general. Very supportive, he would never judge you for making grammar mistakes while speaking, taking a while to remember a word or mispronouncing something, it’s part of learning a language, after all. Might nudge you in the right direction or correct you gently, but he’d never mean it in a bad way, he just wants to help you. He’ll speak clearly to you, slowly as well, so you can learn from him. It’s not often he gets carried away, but sometimes hearing you speak Spanish is just so cute that he might chuckle a bit or be a bit more excited than usual. A very patient teacher, who can appreciate you trying to learn something new. Now, if your Spanish is already pretty good then he does like holding a conversation with you in Spanish every once in a while. It’s just nice to turn your brain off without having to translate every other word into another language since he, too, thinks in his native tongue. Soft petnames from time to time, or maybe just mixing English and Spanish together when he can’t think of the word immediately as well. Somehow, as soon as he knows you speak Spanish, he’ll believe you’ve taken an interest in the corresponding culture, so he’ll teach you more about Mexico if he can. Teaches you how to cook the food, the customs, what the people are like in general. While he may not be as connected to his culture as Alejandro, he does like talking about it from time to time.
Nikolai: The second you greet him with a cheerful privet he knows you’re in for something. You should have expected such from him as well, though. It’s a gamble with him, he’ll either speak more quickly than he usually does just to mess with you or he’ll hold a prim and proper conversation with you and it all depends on how playful he’s feeling that day. Overall, he’s pretty chill about it, though. You wanna know how to pronounce something? You wanna know what gender a noun has? What his neighbor was yelling about again? He’s got your back. You can ask him the most embarrassing questions a million times, he won’t mind. Besides, if you want to then you can come to Russia and experience everything there first hand. Nikolai knows all the good places in Russia that are suitable for someone who’s not usually there, so you won’t have to worry about anything either. If you want to hold a whole conversation about how tortoises have survived for millions of years, then you can. Besides, hearing you botch the pronunciation from time to time is just the most precious thing there is. Will smile a bit when you pronounce something incorrectly, but won’t ever outright mock you for it. As mentioned before, he just thinks it’s cute. And when you know Russian very well, then he still won’t speak it too often. Nikolai knows eight languages, he doesn’t always think in Russian, usually in English since that’s what most of his closest friends speak with him. If you really insist on speaking Russian with him, he will, but won’t think too much of it. Many people know the language, Russia is a big country, after all. If you want to, then you can spend some holidays there and he’ll show you around since there likely isn’t a better guide in the whole country than him. But he will not make a big fuss out of it.
König: German isn’t a very popular language due to its grammar, so you can imagine his surprise when you walked up to him with the most adorable Grüß Gott he’s ever heard. He could just squish you then and there, but he refrains from doing so and instead focuses on trying to have a meaningful conversation with you. Doesn’t matter if it’s good, doesn’t matter if you’re just asking him how he’s doing, a conversation is a conversation and you’re learning. Besides, you learning German, especially if it’s just because of him, does move him just a bit. Might not always initiate a conversation in German with you because what if you’re not in the mood? But you can always just talk to him in German, he doesn’t mind it at all. Though, he might not be the best person to learn German from since he uses regional words that people his age use. While he does try to speak high German with you, he does not really care much for it, so his dialect slips in every once in a while. But hey, at the very least you get to learn his dialect. As soon as he hears you call someone Hawara he becomes oddly proud of himself, thinking he’s doing well as a teacher even if he barely does anything. He loves Austria, so if you really want to see it, he’s more than happy to take you home, show you Vienna, Styria and Lower Austria and make you try some good old Brettljause. If you already know German, then chances are you’ll only know high German, which is alright too, but please know that from time to time, König will speak his dialect with you, which you might not always understand. He barks quite a bit when he speaks too, making it a bit harder to understand him as well. However, he’s always more than happy to play translator for you and teach you words no one uses anymore, such as hal. Austrian words are a must know for you, therefore you’ll learn fairly early on what a Seidl or an Erdapfl is.
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greensagephase · 5 months
Text
Nonviolent Communication - Part Ten
Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader
Summary: Miguel continues to recover while trying to figure out how to move on. You take another step forward in your own mourning journey.
Word Count: 23,982
Warnings: I reviewed this three times but I may have missed some errors so apologies in advance; more Spanish terms than usual, I think but translations are provided at the end like always; mostly fluff with a bit of angst but it's necessary angst
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight |
Part Nine |Part Ten |Part Eleven|
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Part Ten
A little while after your friends leave, Miguel and you lie on your respective beds for the night. You’re already passed out asleep but Miguel is still awake and he finds himself, once again, watching you sleep. He looks away, remembering that Lyla caught him staring the previous night. Yet, there’s something comforting about watching you sleep. Miguel doesn’t understand why but there is. There’s the sound of your breathing; slow, even, and soft. It’s like an invitation to sleep. Like a calling, letting him know that it’s safe for him to do the same.
There’s also the sight of you. You’re once again hugging your pillow and Miguel cannot help but wonder if this is how you always sleep, as this is the third time he’s seen you like this. Watching you sleep, Miguel cannot help but feel ternura, a word in Spanish that translates to “tenderness” or “endearment.” However, he specifically thinks of “ternura” because no term in English does justice to the Spanish translation. The term incites a much deeper feeling than “tenderness” or “endearment” in him. It’s different somehow, even if they translate to the same thing and he suddenly wonders, as he watches you, why he’s even having this chain of thought.
He shakes his head gently, wanting to clear his mind and tries to do so by turning his attention to the windows instead with a soft sigh. The blinds are drawn but he can still see through them. His eyes land on faraway lights from cars, while his ears remain focused on your breathing. His mind shifts back to his thoughts from earlier when your friends were here. On how he’ll try to move forward.
He has time to think about how he’ll do it. He knows it’ll be hard and that it won’t be an overnight change as he’s lived with this mindset for such a long time. It’ll take small steps, and some will be harder to reach than others, but he’ll try. He hasn’t given up in the past when it comes to other things, so Miguel now tries to think of this process in the same way. He won’t give up on it. He won’t give up on moving forward. For them. He smiles faintly, still looking out the windows from the bed, as he remembers his family members telling him they were always around. He looks around the room now, wondering. He remembers Gabriel’s words.
“We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”
Every sleepless night. Miguel isn’t sleepless tonight. Nor lonely. He looks over at you and for a second, he swears he sees the blanket draped over you move slightly. Miguel blinks and shakes his head once again, thinking he should really go to sleep now. With his eyes on you, he can’t help the thought that comes to his mind suddenly.
“If you’re really around at all times, spare me from losing again. From losing… her.”
And maybe it’s silly but Miguel doesn’t take his thought back. He means it and he hopes that if his family is really here or somewhere out there listening, that they’ve heard his plea. With that, he finally closes his eyes and leans back on the pillows, letting your breathing pull him to sleep.
★★★
The next morning when Miguel wakes up, he finds you awake. You look like you’ve showered already and you’re once again typing into the tablet he’s seen you with this entire weekend. It’s Monday and Miguel suddenly feels like he ought to be in his lab, which he now realizes he’s been away from since Friday night. The thought makes him pause for a few seconds. It’s been so long since he’s spent a weekend out of the lab, and he can’t believe it was due to injuries.
He stretches slightly, wincing when he feels pain in his lower abdomen from the trident wound. You notice and are at his side in the blink of an eye.
“Are you okay?”
Miguel nods, meeting your eyes. “Yes, I just stretched too much. Don’t worry, the pain is subsiding now. I thought it’d be better today.”
“Little by little. Try not to put too much strain, especially on the stitches please,” you reply, watching Miguel with concerned eyes, which he takes notice of.
He instantly feels guilty for making you feel concerned over him, so he gives you a small smile, hoping that it’ll reassure you. It does or at least he believes so because you smile back at him.
“Yes, you’re right. I’m just not used – to this,” Miguel admits and then realizes he’s not used to any of what happened this weekend, and so much happened. There were many realizations. Many firsts. Too many thoughts. All with you by his side; his friend, the one that hardly left his side this entire weekend. The one that found him on that rainy rooftop. The one that gave him the gizmo to keep him from glitching. The one that watched him died and come back to life. The one that fed him, and helped him showered with such care and tenderness. His friend. Miguel’s face suddenly feels very warm. He clears his throat and motions to the tablet that you left behind on the fold out chair. “You’re still working on the report?”
You nod, feeling more relaxed now that you see Miguel is no longer in pain. “Sections two and three are done. I’m almost done with the anomaly section,” you inform him, and he nods, remembering that he wants to ask you if you’d be interested in working with him on the report from now on. He decides to ask later, maybe after breakfast.
“That’s good. I look forward to seeing the complete edition,” he answers with another small grin.
“Hopefully you like it,” you reply with your own grin. “Do you want to get up and walk around a bit? Maybe use the bathroom?”
Miguel nods and so, you help him once again to get to the bathroom. You help him brush his teeth and offer to clean his face, which he hesitantly agrees to again. Once he’s ready, you help him walk to the fold-out chair as he doesn’t want to be in bed anymore.
You offer Miguel breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, which he accepts. You surprise Miguel with another large coffee cup, making him wonder how you managed to do it again. It’s been weeks since he was able to get his hands on one but you’ve managed to get three in the span of two days. The two of you have breakfast together before Jess and Peter B. show up to inform Miguel about the day’s tasks. He nods and listens intently to them while you stand by the windows, behind Jess and Peter B., listening quietly to the updates. At last, Jess and Peter B. head out, leaving you and Miguel alone again.
You offer Miguel the tablet so he can check on some things while you fix the room. Shortly after, the medical team arrives to check on Miguel. You’re both happy and relieved when they report that his injuries are healing correctly and that he’s in the right direction for a full recovery. He’s doing so well that he’s discharged with the instruction to rest at home for another day or two, at least until he can move his arms without hurting himself. 
So, that’s how you find yourself in Miguel’s penthouse over an hour later after the doctor discharged him. It was an hour later for different reasons. You needed to pick up the items from the bathroom and transport everything Miguel received from spider members to his penthouse. The main reason, however, was that the two of you simply stuck around the infirmary room even when you could’ve left sooner.
As you place your personal hygiene items out on one of the nightstands in Miguel’s guest room now, you can’t help but think how it felt like Miguel didn’t want to leave the infirmary room. You wonder if maybe he had the same thought you had as you were packing up. You were picking up his personal hygiene items from the bathroom and suddenly realized it was time to leave the place that became somewhat of a home over the weekend. The two of you were there the entire time on your own with the exception of two or so hours, even with other spider members in the building. 
It was a room in which a lot happened, some of which you wish to not think about while there are other things that make you smile. Exhaustion, fear, helplessness, and other emotions you felt in the early hours on Saturday morning were replaced by the afternoon. Happiness and relief were felt when he woke up at last in the afternoon. There was a bit of humor from the horrible hospital food and Miguel’s grumpiness. There was comfort in seeing him awake and talking, and in his interest in the movies you watched together in the dimly lit room while it rained. There was vulnerability, tenderness, caring… You ate together. Talked. Slept. The two of you shared this one room and in a weird sense, it felt like it was your own little world away from everyone and everything. And perhaps Miguel felt like that, too.
Maybe that’s why he stalled. Maybe that’s why there was relief, gratitude, and something else in his eyes when you walked up to him and told him, “We can head to your penthouse if you’re ready now.”
And unknowingly, you’re correct. Miguel didn’t want to leave the infirmary room because he thought it meant going home to an empty penthouse. It meant your return to your universe. He felt selfish for stalling and for wishing that you’d stop packing but then you walked up to him and the way you looked at him when you told him the two of you could head out made him realize you had no plans on leaving his side yet. At last, he nodded and the two of you left the infirmary room to go to his penthouse. 
You finish putting away your items on the nightstand. You’re unsure of tomorrow but you’ll be spending the night today. With your hands on your hips, you look around the room. You remember vague details of the place from Saturday morning when you came looking for Miguel, hoping you’d find him here and that everything was fine. You sigh as you remember those moments so vividly, how you were rushing from room to room. You clear your head and focus on the bedroom instead. It matches the neutral theme the entire penthouse is decorated with. The room is organized and clean, which makes you wonder if Miguel cleans the place himself or if he has someone clean it, considering he hardly spends time here. Either way, you notice there’s no dust on the furniture.
Your gaze falls on a bookshelf, catching your attention. You walk to it and read some of the books’ titles, noticing some of them are specifically about genetics. You smile softly, remembering from somewhere that Miguel is a geneticist. It’s been a very long time since you learned that and you can’t even remember who mentioned it to you. Your eyes move to another shelf with more books though these are on technology. You notice a few of the titles are specifically about inventions and repairs. You hum, wondering but retreat from the bookshelf and walk to one of the windows in the bedroom.
You stand in front of it and look out before a strange sensation washes over you as you’re met with a beautiful sight of Nueva York. Tall buildings in Nueva York’s futuristic architecture and flying cars in the distance meet your gaze. You chase the sensation, wondering what exactly it is. It feels like you’ve been here before somehow, looking out of this very window but you know you haven’t. You chuckle to yourself and shake your head, knowing it’s been a crazy weekend and you’re probably just tired. You sigh softly as you stare out the window for a few seconds longer before you head out of the guest room.
You walk down the stairs, catching Miguel’s eyes from the living room. He sits on the couch closest to the stairs, so he looks up as soon as he hears your steps. The sight of you walking down the stairs makes him pause as he realizes it’s been a long time since anyone has been on the second floor. He doesn’t even know that this is your third time over this single weekend since he’s unaware that you came looking for him on Saturday morning.
You reach the bottom of the stairs at last and give him a smile. “Sorry if I took a while. I got a little distracted,” you admit.
Miguel raises his eyebrows softly, curious. “You didn’t, don’t worry about it. I hope you find everything to your liking. There are clean towels in the bathroom and other essentials you may need. If you need something, please let me know.”
“Everything is great, thank you,” you answer as you take a seat on the other couch, across from him.
Miguel nods. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure your stay is comfortable,” Miguel says softly. “So, please let me know if there’s something you need.” You give Miguel a reassuring smile and nod before he adds, ”You said you got distracted?”
“The view. It’s so lovely,” you say with a smile and Miguel nods, knowing what you mean.
The view from the penthouse was one of the reasons he decided to move here in the first place back when he thought he’d spend a lot of time here. He did to some degree but he eventually spent less and less time after Gabriel passed away. As he sees your smile and enthusiasm about the view, it makes Miguel realize it’s been so long since he’s admired it. He honestly forgot about it. Before he gets a chance to respond, you look down at your gizmo.
“It’s almost lunch time. I was thinking – I’m kind of over cafeteria food. No offense, it’s great but would you like something homemade?” you ask slowly.
Miguel nods softly, a small grin on his face. “I would but – you don’t mind?”
You stand up from the couch, fixing your top. “I don’t mind. It might take me a minute to get acquainted with your appliances, but I got this. Do you have anything specific in mind?”
“Anything you make will be more than great to me,” Miguel says softly. “Really, I’ll have whatever you make. You’ve done so much and now this, too…”
“You’ve done this for me, too,” you interject quietly walking over to the console table between the two couches. “Besides, I think we could really use a homemade meal,” you add with a chuckle.
Miguel gives you a small grin. “I agree… Thank you. If we need to order groceries, let me know so I can order them.”
His last sentence makes Miguel pause. He holds your gaze, but you don’t seem to mind it, or even notice it. You smile and nod.
“Don’t worry about it. I have groceries at home that I can bring if needed, alright? You just sit here and relax, I’ll take care of the rest. And here are – all these remotes,” you say with a frown as you pick up multiple remotes. “If you want to watch TV in the meantime. I think – yeah, this one looks like it.”
You walk over to Miguel, who’s still thinking about his comment on the groceries, and place the remote in his hand. 
“Yeah, that’s the one. Thank you, Y/N,” Miguel responds at last, giving you a nod before you walk away to the kitchen.
He watches you before he looks down at the remote. He shakes his head, wondering why he’s stuck up on his comment. He turns on the TV but nothing catches his attention, so instead, he slowly looks around his living room from his seat.
The fact that he’s sitting there is strange to him. He can’t remember the last time he sat in his living room. It was some time after Gabriellas’s universe collapsed in the first week after his return. He couldn’t sleep because he was plagued by nightmares of Gabriella calling out to him in fear before she vanished from his arms forever. Yeah, that sounds about right to Miguel. He remembers coming to the living room and sitting here sometimes, in the darkness because he couldn’t stand being in his room. When sitting didn’t work anymore, he’d pace; sometimes forgetting for how long. He paced and paced, something he still does at HQ when he needs a break from the screens, trying to hold back the tears – trying to hold back from screaming in anger, grief, and loss in the dead of night, alone in this empty penthouse.
He remembers looking around on those nights. He barely visited the penthouse during his time in Gabriella’s universe. He had no reason to. It wasn’t his home anymore. It didn’t feel like home anymore. He remembers how foreign, cold, and lonely it felt when he came back. There was no warmth. No sign of family. There were no toys in the living room or pink glitter notebooks on the coffee table with crayons and colored pencils scattered about with the promise that they’d be used again the following day by their owner after homework was completed. There was nothing. It was an empty shell of a place he once hoped he could make a home of, and he was suddenly back because the place that had been his home, no longer existed. Just this.
He couldn’t bear it on top of his recurring nightmares. It was so much easier to immerse himself in work to avoid his thoughts and emotions. It was so much easier to avoid sleep, too, even though he often felt like he was stuck in his nightmares in plain daylight.
And so, that’s why he hardly spends any time here. He only shows up in the morning around six each day to shower and until recently, he’s been staying once a week to sleep thanks to you. Miguel leans back on the couch now as he remembers something from his dream. He scoffs silently as he thinks of Gabriel telling him to sleep and teasing him about gray hairs, which he’s sure he must have by now though he hasn’t noticed them.
“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers with a small smile, shaking his head. “Trataré. Te lo juro.”
It’s another item on a long list of things Miguel will work on, little by little, but he will try. He’s already made up his mind. He will.
Miguel brings himself back to this moment. The TV is on and he can hear you in the kitchen cooking, yet another strange thing – for someone to be using the kitchen. He can’t help but focus on it. From the sound of cooking utensils and the opening and closing of cabinets and drawers; such mundane yet homey sounds.
Shortly after, Miguel hears your steps. The penthouse has a lovely scent from your cooking and when he looks up, he finds you carrying a plate with food for him. He feels both grateful and guilty at the sight. You’ve done so much for him and spent your weekend not only away from home but your entire universe to look after him. He’s glad the other spider members have kept watch over it while you’ve been here at least but there’s still guilt that you’ve been away for too long.
You don’t mind though. You haven’t even thought about how this is the first time you’ve been away from your apartment in a while, including your universe and you’ve no idea Miguel is thinking about this either, as his face reveals nothing about the matter. He offers you a small smile and thanks you, once again, for everything before you help him. You feel satisfaction when Miguel finishes everything with a delighted look on his face, a far different reaction from when he ate the steamed carrot from the infirmary.
Once he’s done eating, you eat, too. You clean the kitchen afterward and wonder what you’ll make for dinner as you’re still not in the mood for cafeteria or takeout food. On top of that, the way Miguel enjoyed the food lets you know he, too, prefers something homemade. You mentally go through all your groceries from back home and think about what you can cook. You remember a specific Mexican dish you enjoy and wonder if he’d like to eat that. It’s easy to cook but delicious and filling, so you ask Miguel how he feels about it when you finish cleaning the kitchen. 
“Hey, I was thinking about dinner. How do you feel about flautas?”
Miguel meets your gaze with a bit of a smile. It almost looks like he’s trying not to smile. He nods. “Flautas sound great. I can help you if you want,” he offers, with a glint in his eyes.
“You can give me advice from one of the stools.” 
“Just advice?” 
“And conversation, if you’d like. Nothing else though, as you still can’t lift your arms too much,” you say as you take a seat across from him on the other couch. 
Miguel at last gives you a small smile. “Advice and conversation it is then,” he replies softly, amused by your refusal to let him do more to help with dinner. 
You give him a small smile before you grab the tablet Ben Reilly gave you over the weekend. You’re not even surprised by the fact that it still has battery after how much you’ve used it considering all devices in Miguel’s universe have better battery life. At the sight of the tablet, Miguel remembers his pending question for you regarding the reports. 
“Working on the report?” 
“Yes, I’m just editing it now. It’ll be ready for Jess to cover tomorrow for the meetings.” 
Miguel nods, thinking about what he’s about to talk to you about. It’s one of the few things on his mind right now. “I wanted to ask you…” 
You look up, wondering if he’s in any discomfort you haven’t noticed yet, though Miguel looks fine. His natural color has fully returned now, and his energy is higher. He’s on the right track in his recovery. Still, your eyes quickly take in his appearance, finding nothing wrong. You relax again but wonder what’s on his mind.
“I noticed you seem to like working on the report and I was wondering if you’d like to work on them from here on now – with me,” Miguel says, meeting your eyes. “And Lyla,” he adds, remembering her just now.
You hold Miguel’s gaze, processing his offer. You weren’t expecting him to say that, so there’s a bit of surprise on your face, which is noted by Miguel. A few seconds later, you nod with a smile. 
“Yeah – I’d like to. Thank you.” 
Miguel nods, giving you a small smile. “Great. And once I’m back – hopefully by Wednesday – we can talk about when to start the system training for you and Peter. We could start this week if the two of you are available.” 
Still smiling, you nod. “That sounds great. I’ll be available. As long as there’s no emergency, I’m clear.” 
Miguel nods, feeling relieved and happy that you’ve agreed. “Great – It’s – It’ll be great having you on the team – for the reports,” he says, feeling a little bit flustered. “Later this week we can discuss how we’ll approach it.” 
You continue to smile and nod. “That sounds wonderful. I look forward to it! Thank you again,” you reply softly, noticing Miguel’s reaction. The significance of this doesn’t elude you. You know Miguel hardly asks for help or lets others collaborate with him but he’s invited you to work with him on the reports now and then there’s the system training, too. You look down at the tablet once Miguel nods at your reply, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you understand these sort of situations are not easy for him. Still, you think about it and what it could mean. 
Miguel O’Hara, founder and leader of the Spider Society, has asked if you want to help with the reports from here on now. On top of that, he’s open to teaching selective members, you being one of the first two approved members, how the society’s network system works. 
You can’t help but wonder if the events of this weekend have impacted the man sitting across from you more than you thought. That maybe, he found himself at a crossroads and he has chosen a different path. You imagine that coming face to face with death will do that to someone. You sigh silently as you begin editing the report, hoping. 
Once you’re done, you show the completed report to Miguel, who looks pleased with your work. With Miguel’s approval, you send it to Jess for tomorrow’s meeting. 
The two of you spend the rest of the day in the living room. You remember that you didn’t finish the film series the two of you started watching over the weekend, so you resume where you left off, taking walking breaks with Miguel since his body finds relief in stretching since he’s not used to sitting and laying down as much. This time when you start watching the third movie, the one that neither of you could understand until you realized it was the third installment, the two of you finally understand what’s happening.
By the end of the fourth movie, you look over at Miguel and find him sleeping. He’s laying on the couch with his head propped on pillows you retrieved from his bedroom earlier since you helped him lie down in the last walking break. 
The fifth movie starts playing and you leave it on, not wanting to disturb Miguel’s sleep with sudden silence. You look at the tablet to check the time halfway through, realizing you should probably go and collect all the ingredients you’ll be needing for dinner since you’ll have to travel to your universe. You look over at Miguel again, who’s been asleep the entire time, and feel relief that he’s resting.
You recall what Jess said to Peter B. and you before Miguel woke up on Saturday. She mentioned there was a chance Miguel would try and wave the situation off like nothing. That he’d probably try to jump back to work right away. You were worried he was going to try, especially when he started talking about scheduled meetings and the unfinished report shortly after waking up on Saturday. Yet, Miguel hasn’t pushed himself to go back to work nor argued with you about resting or taking it easy.
Instead, Miguel has allowed himself to be taken care of. You know it hasn’t been easy and there have been times that his embarrassment was visible, like the first time you helped him eat or when you wiped his mouth clean. You remember the slight tint on his cheeks and the aversion of his gaze. No, this weekend wasn’t easy for Miguel at all for obvious reasons but also because of the amount of trust and vulnerability he had to show.
Yet, he wanted you to stay. You know that. In his in-and-out state of mind after he was resuscitated, he asked you to stay. You smile sadly now. It was only in that vulnerable moment that his mind wasn’t protected by his usual boundaries, that he was able to say that out loud. Not only did he want you to stay but he also trusted you with his care. So much happened this weekend but at least it wasn’t all bad. There was some good, too. You feel as though a lot was said even if it wasn’t said out loud. It feels like another step forward.
You continue to watch Miguel. The sight of him sleeping brings you comfort as he looks comfy and peaceful. Your gaze moves to his chest for a few seconds, watching the movement intently. His chest rises and falls evenly; a sign that he’s alive and well. It feels as though you’ve spent the majority of the weekend doing this; making sure he’s there and that this isn’t some dream you’ve thrown yourself into to escape the bitter reality that you’ve lost someone once again but thankfully, this isn’t a dream. 
Still, your mind leads you to two brief thoughts. The first is about how you watched Miguel die and how that makes him the second close person in your life that you’ve seen pass away. Except the two situations you’ve witnessed ended differently with one of them making it. That leads to your second thought on how Peter’s death anniversary was only a few days ago and if something had happened with Miguel – it would’ve been just days apart. 
The thought alone fills you with a heavy feeling. You’ve known you care about Miguel for a long time now, so it’s not a surprise but as you sit there and reflect, you realize just how much you care about him. It suddenly hits you all at once and you don’t even want to think where you would be right now. You’re just now fully moving forward and if things had turned out differently with Miguel – you know you would’ve been thrown right back to square one.
But you’re not in that scenario. You’re here and Miguel’s alive, sleeping across from you safely with that same peaceful and boyish look on his face that makes you smile but also wonder if this is the first time Miguel has slept this much consecutively in a while. Even when you were first recruited into the Spider Society, it wasn’t hard to pick up on the founder’s habits, especially when other members talked about it. You learned quickly that he worked day and night, which meant he probably didn’t sleep much.
And so, you can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since Miguel has rested like this. You don’t know but with his sudden acceptance to let people help him more at HQ, you hope he’ll also start to sleep better.
With one last glance, you head to the kitchen. You check what Miguel has already and then make a quick trip to your universe to gather other items, including more clothes for yourself, before you return to Miguel’s penthouse. You check on him once you return, finding Miguel still sleeping before you head back to the kitchen and start working on dinner.
You check on Miguel regularly as you work on dinner, making sure he’s alright. All throughout, he sleeps peacefully and it’s not until your third or fourth round that you find him waking up. He yawns softly before he looks up at you.
“I’m sorry. It seems I fell asleep at some point,” he apologizes, pulling the blanket down softly.
“Don’t worry. It’s good that you’re resting,” you answer walking closer to him. “I’m almost done with dinner in case you’re hungry.”
He nods. “I can smell it. It smells – amazing,” he says softly, meaning it. “Thank you again. I really appreciate it,” he adds quietly, and you nod.
“Always.” You clear your throat quietly. “Do you want to get up and stretch?”
Miguel nods. “Yes, please. And I did say I’d give you advice and conversation – maybe I’m not too late.”
You chuckle as you pull the blanket from him, placing it to the side before you help him up. He winces slightly as most of his pain is now focused on the trident wound. You’re careful with him as you lead him to the kitchen and help him take a seat. You make sure he’s comfortable before you walk to the stove to check on the food. 
Miguel settles on the chair, the pain subsiding slowly. He silently hopes that by tomorrow it’ll be better so he can start moving his arms more. He looks around the kitchen, the scent of the food filling his nostrils even more now that he’s at the heart of the cooking. He spots sour cream, fresh cheese, green salsa, and cut cabbage, which looks prepared with lime juice. It seems that you have all the toppings for the flautas ready. 
You carefully make more flautas by rolling tortillas with the filling and putting toothpicks through them so they’ll hold while they cook in the pan with hot oil. Miguel’s eyes land on you as you add the first batch. 
He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s still waking up or if it’s something else but he can’t help but think how the penthouse feels different right now. It’s as if you’ve brought a warmness to his penthouse. A homey feeling that makes this place feel less lonely, cold, and empty.
You turn around and walk to his fridge to retrieve a pitcher before grabbing ice on a scoop from the freezer. You place both things in front of Miguel and grab two glasses, making Miguel notice that you’ve found your way around his kitchen perfectly. 
“I made some agua de jamaica. Would you like some?” you offer. 
“Agua de jamaica…? Yes, please. Thank you,” he says with a bit of surprise. “I haven’t had any in – God, I don’t know. Years, I think,” he admits as he watches you pour some for him after adding ice. Once done, you carefully slide the glass to him across the counter. 
Suddenly, the irony of this moment doesn’t elude either of you. Months ago, Miguel did the same for you at your apartment with a different drink under different circumstances. Miguel meets your eyes and all you can do is hold each other’s gazes as the two of you silently think of the same thing. At last, you smile softly, earning yourself a soft grin from Miguel. 
“I’ll get you a straw, hold on. I think I saw some reusable ones somewhere,” you mutter as you turn around to search. Miguel is about to tell you where they’re located but you find them right away. You walk around the counter to him, sliding the straw into the glass before you grab it and hold it up for him to drink, making sure to hold the straw steady for him. He leans forward and tries it. 
Miguel almost sighs at the wonderful taste. It’s not too bitter nor too sweet; it’s perfect. Miguel sips quietly, drinking half of the glass in one go as he’s taken back to the days when he used to drink this frequently. Seeing him almost finish the glass makes you happy, though you mask it to avoid making Miguel uncomfortable. At last, he releases the straw and leans back. 
“It’s really good,” Miguel says quietly. “You just reminded me how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed an agua fresca, specifically this one. It’s one of my favorites,” Miguel shares. “Thank you.” 
You put the glass down on the counter and nod with a small smile. “I’m glad you liked it. I don’t know why but I remembered I had some hibiscus leaves at home and I thought it would be perfect with the flautas.” 
“Flautas and agua de Jamaica –” Miguel pauses, wanting to tell you that you’re spoiling him with such a meal. He looks down, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he debates telling you his thoughts. “You’re spoiling me,” he admits at last, quietly. 
Your smile grows as you hear his words. “You haven’t tried the flautas yet. Maybe let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You might not even like them,” you say with a chuckle before you walk to the stove to flip them. 
Miguel grins, watching you. “I doubt they’ll be anything but amazing. I mean… It smells great and you have salsa,” he says eyeing the green salsa, hoping it’s spicy. 
“I think I made it too spicy but hopefully you like it,” you say as you continue to flip the first batch of flautas.
Miguel remains quiet but after a few seconds he responds with an amused tone. “I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it.” 
You hum in response as you prepare a container to put the flautas in once they’re done cooking, before setting it aside. It catches Miguel’s eyes. He doesn’t even remember where it came from or where it was stored, which makes him realize just how acquainted you’ve become with his kitchen, much like he did with yours so many months ago. Miguel thinks about that day and how he fixed some of the things in your kitchen while you slept. For a few seconds, he wonders if they’re still working fine before his thoughts shift to another pending question for you.
He’s been searching for the perfect time to ask... What were you doing at HQ so late when you discovered something was wrong? He wonders if you needed something – maybe someone to talk to. Maybe you were sleepless and you thought of him. And of course, the one time you may have needed him, he wasn’t there for you because his insistence to go alone on solo night missions got him in trouble for once. He’s been wondering ever since Jess and Lyla mentioned you being the one that found out he was in trouble, and right now seems like a good time. The two of you are in a good mood and there’s no one else, so that means no interruptions. 
“Y/N… May I ask you a question?” he asks. 
You finish checking on the food and place the tongs away before turning around to face him. He has a very serious look on his face; one that worries you. You approach the counter and nod. 
“Sure… What do you want to ask me?” 
Miguel’s eyes meet yours. “What were you doing at HQ so late on Friday? Or, rather Saturday morning, I suppose,” he says quietly. 
You hold his gaze for a few seconds before you look at the glasses on the counter. You suspected that at one point he was going to ask, you just didn’t expect him to ask so soon. You thought you’d have more time because hell, you haven’t had time to really think about it. You hoped you’d have more time so you could explain everything properly, especially after you told Jess what happened. Jess may have thought that she fooled you but you didn’t fail to notice that she wanted to say more on the matter. There was also the way she looked at you afterward. It made you feel as though what happened was something major and really strange. 
Almost like nothing close to it has ever happened before and if it has, it’s rare. You can’t help but worry. If Jess held back and found the situation odd or as something shocking, then you wonder what Miguel’s reaction will be. You don’t want to alarm him, to make him feel like – You don’t even know how because you haven’t had time to properly think about it but now Miguel is asking, and he thinks you were at HQ for some other reason and that you just happened to discover something was wrong when in reality he was the reason you were there at all.  
But – you won’t lie. So, you sigh quietly and grab your glass with agua de jamaica, taking a long drink before you set the glass back down. You check on the flautas over your shoulder; they look fine. You do this in the span of a few seconds, knowing that you can’t and shouldn’t prolong answering Miguel’s question or then, it’ll make it seem like you don’t want to tell him and he may find the events even more uncomfortable or weird. You look up at him, once again feeling the irony that you’re in his kitchen cooking and looking after him the way he did for you so long ago.
You offer Miguel a smile and shake your head at last.
“It wasn’t like that,” you say, meeting his gaze. Still smiling softly, you continue. “You want to know how we found you?” 
Miguel nods, though he wants to correct you. There was no “we,” just you. You were the one that found him on the rooftop. The one that discovered something was wrong by going into his lab for some unknown reason.
“I’m just – curious,” he replies, and you nod.
“Yeah, I understand. I’d like to know, too,” you say quietly and pause for a few seconds before you start. “It was three in the morning and I was at home sleeping.”
Miguel’s eyebrows furrow, confused, yet he doesn’t interrupt you. He notices the way you’re being careful with your words, as if you fear that the wrong word will set him off.
“Out of nowhere,” you pause. “I woke up. My spidey senses were going off and – I quickly got up to check my two-way radio.” You look away for a second at the counter. “I was certain it was something in my city, you know? But for once, my city was fine, and nothing came from the radio.” You look up at him again. “I suited up and I went out to check regardless because my senses kept going off. I looked around my city and there was… nothing. Everything was fine in my universe, at least. So, I decided to go to, you know, other universes like Hobie’s, Miles’s, Gwen’s… I did a quick check to figure out what was happening but each universe was fine. There was no emergency and yet,” you pause and shrug slightly. “My senses were still warning me. I traveled to multiple universes in the span of two minutes, I think, trying to figure out what was happening until I finally realized I should tell you because maybe it had something to do with the multiverse.”
You quickly check the flautas again, looking behind your shoulder. You don’t want to end up letting the food burn or worse, cause a fire in his home. You face Miguel again when you see the flautas look okay. Miguel continues to watch you, hanging onto every word you say. He notices that you find this hard to talk about and he slowly begins to understand why the more you share what happened.  
“So, I went to HQ and um – I called for Lyla so that she could let you know that I was there but she didn’t respond like she normally does. I tried again and once I saw that she wasn’t responding I just – I felt that something wasn’t right. So, I decided to go into your lab and figured that I’d just apologize for intruding later but when I did – your lab was empty. The screens were red, and you – you were nowhere to be found.”
You look down at the counter and sigh silently. “And so – I reached out to Margo and you know – she never goes to bed at a reasonable time. She always goes to sleep so late and – anyway, I for once hoped that she didn’t listen to our encouragement on fixing her sleeping schedule. Thankfully she didn’t because she immediately showed up and started working on the system once I told her that it wasn’t working and that – oh yes, I was trying to reach you through your gizmo but it said you were offline.” 
You look up at Miguel, who still hasn’t taken his eyes off you as he listens to your recollection of the night. He watches you with both guilt and ache because he can see that talking about it is hard for you. It’s obvious to Miguel with how you’re pausing and looking away from his eyes.  Then, there’s the fact that despite everything, you still thought about apologizing for going into the lab if you had found him there, which just makes Miguel want to smile and tell you that you don’t need to ask or notify him anymore; that you haven’t had the need to do so in a really long time but he just hasn’t told you yet because of what it would mean and because he has a feeling that you’ll continue to do it regardless because you’re always so respectful. 
But for now, he wants to stop you, so that you don’t have to continue thinking about that night, yet you carry on. “We realized something wasn’t right with your offline status, so while she started fixing the system… I actually came here to look for you,” you say quietly, holding his gaze. “I hoped you’d be here.”
Miguel holds your gaze, feeling like someone is squeezing his heart with your last statement. You were hoping he was here, safe.
You give him a sad smile.
“I checked every room and you weren’t here. I went back to HQ, knowing that something was definitely wrong. It was confirmed when Margo got Lyla back and she told us very briefly what happened, so – I headed to Earth-42 and soon, we had a whole search team looking through the city until we found you…” you trail off.
“You found me,” Miguel says. “I remember… It was just you before everyone else arrived.”
You hold his gaze and nod. Miguel’s mind is whirling with thoughts about everything you’ve said.
“Your spidey senses… They warned you about me,” Miguel states, not as a question but as a fact. 
“I don’t know how that’s even possible,” you admit. “But the good thing is we found you and we brought you back home.”
Miguel nods but he still wants to correct you. It was you that found him. You alone. You somehow also knew what building to check, and he has a strong feeling that it’s related to the first mission you joined him in but that isn’t the most important part of this. It’s the fact that your spidey senses were tipped off across the multiverse - for him, who doesn’t even possess that ability. Yet, somehow across the vast multiverse, you sensed his situation. 
As he continues to hold your gaze, Miguel remembers you were the last person he thought about before his consciousness first slipped. From that point on, he was in and out of it but suddenly you were there, kneeling by his side talking to him and shielding his face from the cold rain with your own mask; slipping your gizmo into his wrist to protect him from glitching. All because your spidey senses went off… For him.
He doesn’t understand how it’s impossible. He thinks about it, going through multiple explanations as he possibly can in the moment but one thought keeps popping up. It feels like it’s the only one that holds despite having no scientific evidence. 
There’s a bond between the two of you. 
A connection that’s strong enough to travel across the multiverse. It both worries and comforts Miguel. There’s that fear - that fear that he’ll lose you, too - and this only adds to it. How will he ever go on if that ever happens when such connection exists? And yet, there’s comfort from it, too. To know that even in your deep and peaceful sleep, away in your own universe, you sensed his danger because of this connection. And that very same bond allowed you to find him, to save him.  
Miguel’s gaze softens. “Thank you,” he says quietly with a heavy tone, as if moved by your words, and he is. He has a lot to thank you for and wishes he could do and say more. He wishes he could find a way to show you how thankful he is for everything - for you. 
Smiling, you nod slowly. “Always…” you quietly answer in Miguel’s kitchen, feeling glad that you’ve told him. It’s out now. You were worried Miguel would react negatively but instead he’s thanking you and there’s a look on his face - like he’s thinking of something else - like he knows something that you don’t. You want to ask but despite everything, you remain the same as always. You don’t push his boundaries. 
Suddenly, you remember the food. “Oh, shoot,” you say and quickly walk to the stove, sighing in relief when you see the flautas are intact. “They’re good!” You quickly take them out, placing them on the container you prepared earlier. Miguel smiles at you as you do this. 
You add a new batch to the pan before you walk back to the counter, feeling the need to change the conversation now so you pour yourself more agua de jamaica. You take a sip and nod. 
“I forgot how good this is,” you say quietly, placing the glass down and looking up at Miguel, who has been unable to look away from you. 
He’s determined to do this. He’s thought about it so many times now but suddenly he feels a stronger push to seek this journey. This journey that felt so unreachable even in his dreams because they were always plagued by nightmares but now - as he sits across from you with everything that’s happened this weekend in his mind - he feels as though he can reach over and graze that journey - that possibility - with his fingertips. 
It’s there like it’s never been there before, and hell, Miguel is going to reach for it. He wants to. For his family. For you. For him. 
“It’s so refreshing,” Miguel replies, feeling overwhelmed with everything going on in his mind but he still eyes his own glass, which you notice. 
“You want more?”
Miguel nods and so you help him take another sip. You finish cooking the last batch of flautas and fix two plates. It doesn’t occur to you until you’re ready to help Miguel eat that flautas, much like empanadas, are finger food. So you find yourself helping him eat much like you did that day, holding a flauta from one end as he bites from the other one. You also forgot how messy flautas can be with all the toppings, so you find yourself cleaning his mouth more than you did with the empanadas. 
“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot utensils can’t be used to eat this or how messy eating flautas can be sometimes,” you apologize quietly as you gently wipe the corner of his mouth but Miguel shakes his head slightly, trying not to move much. 
“It’s alright. I didn’t think about it either when you suggested them. I guess we were both in need of a homemade meal. So much that we forgot to think ahead,” Miguel replies once you withdraw your hand, sounding amused. “It’s so worth it though. These are some of the best flautas I’ve ever had. Thank you again for this amazing meal.”
You put the napkin down and chuckle. “Always, and yes. I was a bit tired of cafeteria food. I was so relieved Jess and her husband sent us homemade food yesterday. I just missed it,” you answer. “And I thought it’d be better for you, too, as part of your recovery.”
You take a bite from one of your own flautas now, for once eating at the same time since Miguel asked. He hasn’t liked the fact that you’ve been eating after him, with your food growing cold. On top of that, this makes it feel more like you’re actually eating a meal together. You finish eating and take a quick sip of your drink before offering Miguel his own glass. He quietly accepts it and drinks as you hold the glass for him. 
The two of you sit side by side on the island chairs, facing each other. Miguel is slightly slouched to accommodate you for his height, making it easier for you to bring the food to his mouth. As you do so, you can feel Miguel’s warmth radiating off him, especially on your legs, since they’re slightly pressed against his so you can reach him but it doesn’t seem to bother Miguel. 
Once you’re both done eating, you clean up the kitchen to make sure it’s back to the way it was: spotless. The two of you talk quietly as you clean, and you have to decline Miguel’s help more than twice because he insists he should do something. You finish cleaning by wiping down the last counter, noticing the time on the stove’s clock when you look up. It’s still early but Miguel still needs a shower and his wounds to be checked on. 
“Whenever you want, we can head upstairs so you can take a shower and I can look at your wounds.”
“We should probably do that now before it gets too late. I don’t want to keep you up and I’d like for you to finally rest on a proper bed, which reminds me, I’m sorry you had to sleep on that thing,” Miguel mutters, sounding upset. 
“Don’t worry about it! It was actually comfortable,” you reply with a smile as you stand across from him. 
“I don’t know how but you did look comfortable.”
You shrug. “It was comfortable, really. Don’t worry about it or about keeping me up but you - you should rest properly. Resting on the couch is not the same as resting on a bed and I bet you’ll feel far more comfortable in your own bed, especially after a shower,” you say. 
Miguel’s head tilts to the right. “Alright, it does sound better than the hospital bed.”
You chuckle. “Well, whenever you’re ready”
Miguel tells you he’s ready and with that, you help him up the stairs and into his bathroom. Like the previous day, you fix the shower head so his wounds are not directly hit by the water and leave towels within reach for him. Thankfully, Miguel’s bathroom is large and spacious, and even has a built-in bench that’ll help you wash his upper body. You leave him to wash his lower body and head downstairs to quickly make some canelita. Since you remembered the day Miguel went to your apartment for the first time months ago, you thought about it, too, and now you feel like it’d be something nice to end the day with. Maybe it’ll even help Miguel relax before he goes to sleep. You put water and cinnamon sticks into a pot before you put it on the stove to boil. You head back upstairs and prepare everything you’ll need to take care of Miguel’s wounds. You also prepare his bed, thinking it’ll be so much more comfortable and spacious than the hospital’s with his king size bed. 
You head back downstairs to check on the canelita, surprised to see it’s already boiling. You add more water to it before returning upstairs to check on Miguel. You know it’ll be a while before he’s ready since you asked him to take his time to avoid hurting himself accidentally. You walk to one of the windows to look out for a few minutes before you return downstairs to check on the canelita. You turn it off when you see it’s ready and get two mugs out before going back upstairs. 
You enter Miguel’s bedroom just as he calls your name, ready for your help. 
You help Miguel wash his torso like the day before using the built in bench to do so. You notice Miguel seems far more relaxed, especially because the two of you make conversation as you repeat the same process from yesterday. You start from his shoulders until you finally reach his lower abdomen with your careful and gentle touch all throughout. You wash his arms and then his back before you eventually start on his hair.
Miguel sits sideways on the bench with his head thrown back to give you easier access. Your fingers glide through his hair as you lather the shampoo into his scalp. His eyes are closed, not only because you asked him to avoid getting any shampoo in them but also because he’s once again overwhelmed by the pleasant sensation of your fingers. He thought it’d be easier today but he finds himself clutching the towel around his waist once again. Internally, he’s just glad that the two of you are conversing so he can focus on that and avoid embarrassing himself with any accidental noises escaping from him. 
You finish by rinsing his hair out and drying the excess water with a towel, taking the chance to dry his neck and shoulders, too, since water made its way to those areas. You clean his face with lukewarm water and reusable cotton pads, telling him you’ll clean it again after he brushes his teeth.  
As you do so, you can’t help yourself and once again, take in every detail of Miguel’s face. You're so lost in concentration that you don’t notice Miguel’s own eyes doing the same with your face; observing everything from the color of your eyes to your eyelashes to the bridge of your nose and lips. His gaze grazes every inch of your face. You smile a bit when you notice some stubble on Miguel, which he notes. 
“What is it?” he asks softly. 
“Just noticed you have some stubble.”
“Oh, yes. Maybe tomorrow I can move my arms more and take care of it,” he says as you glide the cotton pad over his cheek. 
You nod. “I’m sure tomorrow you’ll be able to move more. Just try not to push it, okay? And if you still can’t reach your face, I can do it if you trust me,” you say quietly as you move to the other cheek, which makes Miguel smile faintly. 
“After all your help, it would be silly not to trust you with a razor to my face.”
You chuckle. “I guess that’s fair. I can help you tomorrow then. Alright, done.” You back away slowly and put the cotton pads away. “Do you want sweatpants and a jacket to sleep in?”
“I think I can go without the jacket tonight,” Miguel answers, straightening up gently before meeting your gaze. “The place won’t be as cold as the infirmary room.” 
“As long as you’re comfortable, it’s your choice. Let me get your clothes then.” You quickly collect the clothes for Miguel before returning to the bathroom with them. You place the sweatpants on the counter and hold on to his boxers to help him start dressing. 
The two of you succeed again by sticking to the same method from yesterday and in minutes, Miguel is dressed, ready for you to take care of his wounds. The process takes about fifteen minutes while the two of you talk about how much better his wounds look. You also notice he doesn’t wince as much as he did the day before. You lean back when you’re done, giving Miguel, who is sitting at the edge of his bed, more space. You slide the office chair you brought from his office back, taking a look at the injuries from afar. 
“Was that alright? Any discomfort?” you ask, as you put the supplies away. 
“None at all,” Miguel answers. “Thank you.”
You nod. “Do you want anything else to eat or drink? While you were showering I made some canelita. Would you like some?”
Miguel looks at you with surprise. “Really? I… You’ve done so much already, you shouldn’t have,” Miguel says softly, looking away in embarrassment. He can’t help but think about the fact that you cooked twice today on top of helping him shower and move around, and yet you’re still going out of your way to make him even more comfortable.
“I remembered it earlier and thought it would be nice. It’s not a big deal, Miguel. You know it’s not hard to make, so don’t worry about it, okay?” you say gently, trying to reassure him. “Now, would you like some? I think it’d be nice to drink before bed.”
Miguel finally looks back at you with a soft sigh. He nods and smiles faintly. “I can’t say no to canelita, so yes, I’d love some, please. And thank you, again,” he says, still smiling faintly, which makes you smile in return. 
“Great! I’ll go get you some then. I’ll be right back.”
With that, you head downstairs and get two mugs of canelita on top of a straw before you head back upstairs. You find Miguel still sitting at the edge of his bed when you enter the bedroom. He seems to be looking towards the window but at the sound of your footsteps, he turns to face you. You place your mug on the window ledge so you can cool Miguel’s by stirring the straw around gently as you stare out the window. 
“I’m trying to cool it for you,” you say softly, still looking out. You can’t help but feel mesmerized by Nueva York’s beautiful sight at night. You’ve spent several days here but you’re truly taking it all in now that everything is much calmer regarding Miguel’s health.
“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks, noticing the fascinated look on your face. 
“The view.”
Miguel nods, still looking at you and recalls you talking about the view earlier. He looks out the window, too; trying to see what you see. 
“You know… Sometimes, I get so wrapped up with what we do that I take this for granted,” you suddenly say as you turn to him, still trying to cool off the canelita for him. 
Miguel meets your gaze, surprised.
“You know what I mean? I’ve the chance to see flying cars and use this amazing technology.” You motion to the gizmo on your wrist. “I’ve visited so many universes. Work with so many versions of us. It’s just really amazing we can do this. To have each other...” you trail off, thinking about all your friends, including Miguel. You can’t help but think about the possibility of none of this happening. It could’ve very easily never been possible and there would be no Spider Society. All of you would’ve gone on never knowing about the existence of the multiverse or of each other. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m suddenly thinking about this. It’s all just so incredible. And it’s all possible thanks to you,” you quietly add, smiling. 
Miguel holds your gaze and gives you a soft smile. No one has ever thanked him for this, and it’s not like he’s expecting anyone to or even asking to be thanked. It feels nice but more importantly, your words make him pause. He’s been so busy that he’s never truly stopped and thought about how incredible it truly is. “It really is, isn’t it?” he asks quietly as he thinks about it more. He’s so used to the technology and always keeps himself busy, making it easy to forget and acknowledge how amazing it is. It just makes him realize how he, too, takes for granted many things in his universe. 
Miguel begins to make the attempt to get up, making you place the cup on the ledge quickly. “Hold on, Miguel. I’ll help you,” you say as you stand by his side. 
You help him up with ease but he winces slightly and pauses for a few seconds. His arm is around your waist as he lets the pain die down before he fully stands up, letting go of you slowly. 
“I’m starting to feel less and less pain,” he says and you nod, stepping away a little to give him space. He towers over you as he finds his balance, finding it easier than earlier. He nods and starts walking on his own. His steps are more determined than they’ve been the entire weekend, which is wonderful to see. You give him space but remain ready to help if needed, knowing that this is a great sign for Miguel’s recovery. He reaches the window and stands partially in front of it, as if leaving space for you. 
You walk closer and stand by him with plenty of space between the two of you. Miguel looks up at the sky, watching constellations. He can’t recall the last time he looked up at the night sky to see the stars, which fills Miguel with a sudden sadness. He composes himself and tries a different perspective, a less sadder one. He’s looking and appreciating it now and that’s what matters, right? He subtly looks down at you, noticing your gaze on the city before his eyes shift to the same view. He tries to see the place he grew up in through your eyes. He looks at the modern architecture, the flying cars, and the train to the moon, which he hasn’t been on since he was a teenager. He looks at it all with a new perspective - your perspective - and he’s filled with a sense of awe, realizing it is amazing.
After a few more seconds of silence, you offer him the canelita again. 
“I should sit down again or you won’t be able to reach me,” Miguel says as he starts to move but you make him pause. 
“I think I can lift myself for this,” you offer. “If you wish to stay like this, I can do it.” 
“What if you get burned?”
“I won’t. I’m sure it has cooled off by now.”
Miguel looks down at you and then nods. “But be careful… Please.”
You nod and grab his mug but before you do anything else, you put some of the liquid on your palm using the straw to make sure the liquid is suitable to drink. Satisfied, you walk closer and shoot a web to the ceiling before you slowly lift yourself to an appropriate height. 
“Just wanted to make sure it’s actually cooler now. Don’t want you burning your mouth through the straw,” you say as you hold the cup securely in your hand and bring it close to his mouth. With your finger, you keep the straw from moving as he leans closer to take a drink. You look out the window for a few seconds, as if giving Miguel privacy because of the close distance between the two of you now. A few seconds later, you face him again just as he steps back, nodding. 
“Very soothing,” he says quietly, looking at you as a soft smile appears on his face. “I’ll probably fall asleep very soon with this and the shower.”
“That was the plan,” you say with a chuckle. “You ought to rest. It’ll speed up the recovery.”
Miguel nods with that soft smile still on his face before the two of you continue to look at the city through his bedroom window, drinking canelita. Your gaze takes in everything about the city, and Miguel continues to look at it your way, realizing he’s taken this for granted even more than you, and that maybe he ought to stop and admire it more often. 
Miguel smiles faintly at you about thirty minutes later. He’s on his bed now and you’re fixing the covers over his body. Your fingers brush past his bare skin as you do so, and you subtly but quickly step back once you’re done though Miguel doesn’t seem to mind. 
“If you need anything, just let me know, okay?” you say, looking down at him with a soft smile. 
Miguel nods, looking at the gizmo on his nightstand. It dawned on you moments after you told Miguel he ought to rest that you’d be in different rooms tonight, which means that if he needs anything, you won’t be able to hear him. After telling him, you suggested you could sleep on the floor but of course, Miguel immediately rejected that idea. 
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,” he quickly said with a stern tone followed by what you could only describe as a low growl. 
So, that idea was instantly scrapped until Miguel remembered he had an extra gizmo in the penthouse. He keeps all of them at HQ under tight security for obvious reasons but he’s always kept an extra one here, just in case, which is now sitting on his nightstand and will help him communicate with you if he needs anything. 
“I will, don’t worry. Thank you,” he says, still thinking about your suggestion. He wants to shake his head in disbelief at you. There’s no way in hell he would’ve allowed that. Ever. 
“Alright. I’m off then. Good night,” you say softly before you quickly retrieve the mugs from the window’s ledge. 
“Good night,” Miguel replies, eyes on you. 
You’re about to exit the room when he softly calls your name. You pause and turn around. Light from outside illuminates parts of his room, which makes it easier for you to see him. His eyes meet yours with a relaxed and soft look on his face. 
“I just wanted to tell you - thank you. For everything,” Miguel says in the darkness.
You smile softly, not failing to hear the way he emphasizes the last word. “Always, Miguel… Good night,” you whisper. 
“Good night,” Miguel whispers back before you pull the door after you exit, leaving it ajar. 
With your retreating steps, Miguel lays on the bed and stares at the ceiling now. He suddenly has a sensation wash over him. The one that lets you know that you'll remember every detail of a specific event or moment for years to come, no matter how much time goes by. Miguel has that sensation now. He’ll remember this entire weekend, this moment, for the rest of his life. 
He hums faintly, looking up at the ceiling before he closes his eyes, ready to fall asleep. Yet, he can’t, even though he’s tired and willing. It feels like twenty minutes pass by and Miguel is still awake. He’s perfectly comfortable on the bed. He’s tired and sleepy but he cannot fall asleep. With his eyes still closed, he sighs and starts thinking about the previous nights and how easy it was to fall asleep even though the infirmary room wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world; the room was very cold and the bed wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his own is. His bedroom is definitely far more comfortable but… It’s missing something that the infirmary room had, or rather someone. 
Miguel’s eyes snap open with that thought. 
“Mierda,” Miguel whispers as he realizes. 
You’re not in the room sleeping nearby, letting your breathing call him to sleep. He lays there for a few minutes as the realization sinks in. He didn’t realize how much the sound of your breathing while you slept helped him the last few nights. He sighs softly and closes his eyes, thinking about something. Maybe if he just…
He feels like an idiot for trying but he does it anyway and surprisingly, his brain has no difficulty. He recalls the sound of your breathing from the previous night by memory, perfectly. 
And it seems to work for tonight because Miguel succeeds and falls asleep soon after. 
★★★
Miguel moves around his kitchen with ease as he cooks. It’s Saturday, exactly one week since he woke up in the infirmary room. He can move his arms freely now and he’s been walking normally since Wednesday. His less serious injuries are fully healed while the trident wound has a day or two left before it's completely healed. Thankfully, Miguel feels better and more like himself, at least physically. 
It’s strange. It’s late in the afternoon on a Saturday, and he’s home instead of at HQ. He went in this morning to work on something but now he’s back and he has plans to stay the rest of the day here. If it goes his way, of course. 
Miguel pulls out a fresh lettuce from a delivery bag. He ordered groceries earlier to prepare dinner, finding it easier than going out to shop. He opens it and begins to pull some of the layers off before carefully washing the leaves. He cuts them into strips and when he’s done, he places it on a container, adding water to keep it fresh. He feels a little nervous but at the same time, he really wants to do it. It’s the least he can do after everything. He checks the meat he has on the stove, seeing that it’s halfway done. He stirs it before he leans back on the counter, looking around his penthouse as he thinks. 
He finds it hard to believe that only a few days ago you were staying here. You stayed a total of two nights and you somehow made the place feel different. Now, Miguel can’t seem to find that feeling. He grew so used to hearing your footsteps and drawers opening in the kitchen in such a short amount of time. Your presence has made Miguel realize that he misses having someone around like when he and Gabriel lived here together. His young brother made the place feel homier, much the same way you did. It didn’t feel empty, cold, or foreign.
He sighs, thinking about how he needs to find a way to make this place better because he hates how he feels when he’s back.
He remembers the first evening without you here. The penthouse was quiet and empty. He stared out the windows of the living room for a few minutes. It felt wrong. He walked upstairs and that feeling remained. He stopped in front of the guest room, or rather Gabriel’s old room, knowing it was empty. Yet, he pushed the door open and stepped in. There was no sign of your stay and Miguel found himself thinking it was very like you to leave the room the way you found it, seeing as you’re always so organized and tidy. Yet, it bothered him because it made it feel like you hadn’t stayed at all. Like it had been some kind of dream. 
He walked further into Gabriel’s old room, pushing his other feelings away. He doesn’t like to go in there much as it still pains him when he thinks of the days they used to live together before he moved out to the next floor. There are some belongings of Gabriel left though; some of his books on repairing. At the sight of them, Miguel picked one up before he sat down on the bed. He started flipping the pages, finding his brother’s messy writing on the margins with notes and measurements. It was then that his nose picked up on it. The only sign that you had been there at all was your scent. 
Miguel ignored it as he continued to try and decipher Gabriel’s handwriting. He laid on the bed, resting his head on the pillows as he held the book up trying to figure out what a specific portion of text said. Suddenly, your scent was awakened by his movement, filling his nostrils and he found himself breathing deeply. He found comfort in it before he started to think he was being weird. He left the room pretty soon after, closing the door after himself and forgetting about it until later that night when he found himself in bed, once again unable to sleep. 
He tried playing your breathing in his head. It helped the previous two nights perfectly but suddenly it wasn’t working. He was tired and willing to go to sleep unlike so many nights but yet he couldn’t reach it. He got up, ready to pace like always but ended up in Gabriel’s room instead. He stood before the bed for a while with a thought on his mind but he knew it was too much. Yet, he also knew it was two in the morning and nothing was working. So he did it, thinking it didn’t hurt to try. He pulled the covers and got in bed. 
He laid there, eyes closed as your scent engulfed him like cloud formations, and the memory of your breathing playing in his head. He woke up the next day with Lyla peppering him with questions about why he was sleeping in Gabriel’s room and poking fun at him because she had to wake him up. He got in the shower, wondering. Was he in such a bad state that he needed to hear someone’s breathing and their scent to sleep?
He also questioned how he was going to sleep later on. It seemed that simply recalling the sound of your breathing wasn’t enough anymore. The only reason he had slept the previous night was because of your scent. So now, not only does he have to figure out how to make his home better but also find a solution to his sleeping problem. Your scent is still present in Gabriel’s room but he knows that within a few days, it’ll be gone. He’s been thinking about buying candles or something of the sort. Otherwise, he might find himself unable to sleep when he’s now trying. 
Miguel shakes his head and remembers to check the meat. He stirs the food carefully, remembering how much you liked this dish on Christmas Eve, which is why he’s making it. He’s spent the rest of the week getting back to work, figuring out what was done and how it was done but he’s also been thinking about how to thank you properly. He thanked you that first night you stayed over and again the following day, and then once more on Wednesday morning. He had his movement back and there was no need for you to stay another night away from your universe. The two of you knew it. You had breakfast together one last time in his kitchen and then you were there, standing with your travel bag packed and ready to go and the sight of it made - Miguel stops. He doesn’t want to think of that moment because thinking about it includes admitting how he felt when he saw you with your travel bag in hand. He felt a wave of something rush over him. Sadness.
As soon as he realized what he was feeling, he felt appalled. He’s already on edge with admitting out loud that you’re his friend and suddenly he was feeling sadness that you were leaving and he wondered, if your departure alone made him feel like that - what would he feel if something ever happened to you? 
Miguel knows he’s grown fond of you. He’s grown attached to you. Perhaps too much, considering your scent and the sound of your breathing are the only two things that have helped sleep so far. 
“Definitely too much,” Miguel mutters to himself with a sigh. 
He looks at the clock to check the time. He’ll be sending you a message soon to ask if he can drop by your place. He plans on inviting you for dinner and surprising you with burritos de tinga, as you seemed to really enjoy them on Christmas Eve but now he wonders if he should’ve asked you sooner. For all he knows, you may have plans with your other friends or on your own. He decides he can cook another day for you as a way to thank you, if that’s the case. He just wants to do this as a way to show you his gratitude, even when he knows nothing he ever does or says will ever fully be enough to show his appreciation and gratitude to you - for you.
He sends his message ten minutes later before he adds sliced onions to the meat. Your reply arrives about two minutes later, telling him you’re home and that he can drop by. He lets you know it'll take about ten minutes, the amount of time it’ll take to finish cooking. Once he’s done, he places the lid on the pan to keep it warm, expecting to be back soon. 
He looks around briefly, making sure everything is ready before he opens a portal and travels to your dimension. In a matter of seconds, he steps out into your living room as small objects float in midair. His eyes take in the scene before him until they land on you. 
You’re sitting in the middle of your living room’s floor, leaning over your console table with a paintbrush in your hand and multiple blank picture frames laid out on it. The living room is… an organized mess. You look up at him just as the floating objects fall back into place and smile. Miguel blinks, the sight branded to his mind. 
“Please excuse the mess,” you say as you put down the paintbrush.
Miguel scans your face carefully, noticing paint on your cheek. He smiles back at you, finding the sight amusing before he looks around your apartment. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly.
Your walls are empty of decorations. Your console table is covered up to protect it from the paint. Your old rug is rolled up and propped against a wall next to another one still in its new wrapping. There’s a large unopened box with a picture of a bookcase and an extra couch wrapped in new protective material while your older one is partially covered. 
You’re redecorating your apartment. 
“I seem to have come at the wrong time,” Miguel says as he returns his gaze to you. 
You shake your head and get up, stretching slightly. Your arm pops, and you wince quietly before you give him a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s never a bad time. I’m just - redecorating,” you say as you look around briefly before returning your gaze to him. “May I get you something to drink? Thankfully my kitchen area is functional,” you say with a chuckle as you walk towards him, motioning to him to take a seat on one of the two chairs on your kitchen island. 
Miguel follows you, facing your kitchen now, which yes, appears to be spared from the redecorating. He watches as you walk into your kitchen and wash your hands carefully as he reaches the counter. He lays a hand on it just as his eyes flicker to the side where he finds an open laptop. He accidentally reads the multiple tabs you have open, all regarding storage units in your city. He quickly looks away, not wanting to invade your privacy. 
“Thank you but I’m alright,” Miguel replies as his gaze finds you again. 
You turn around and nod, leaning on your counter. “You sure?” you ask softly and stretch your shoulders again, feeling tension after painting pictures frames for a while since you decided to give them a new look instead of buying new ones. 
Miguel nods with a little smile. “Yes, I’m sure. Thank you though. I’m actually here because well -” Miguel pauses and straightens up. “I wanted to thank you again for everything and I know, you’re going to say I already did,” Miguel says once he sees you about to interject. “I know but I still want to do something to show you my immense gratitude. I cooked dinner and I was wondering if you’d like to join me tonight,” Miguel says quietly. 
You tilt your head slightly and smile at him. “That sounds wonderful, though you don’t need to do anything to show your gratitude, Miguel. You know why I did it,” you reply gently. 
“I know,” Miguel says, fully knowing why. He swallows, not knowing what gives him the sudden push to say the next words. “Then… You know why I’m doing this.”
His words take you by surprise, making you take a few seconds to acknowledge them, which in other circumstances they wouldn’t have left you feeling startled. With anyone else you’d smile, acknowledge them, and move on; maybe even throw in some banter because the friendship is constantly acknowledged verbally but the words didn’t come from just anyone. Those words are not as easy to say for Miguel as they are for you. You also know this is the closest you’ll get to hearing Miguel admit out loud he considers you a friend, too, before he directly admits it one day. You finally nod and smile softly, trying to keep it casual because you know this isn’t easy for Miguel and the last thing you want to do is make it a big deal in front of him, even though it is. 
“So, what did you cook?” you ask instead. 
Miguel gives you a soft smile, feeling relieved that you took his words well. “Burritos de tinga. I’ve made agua de jamaica, too.”
“Tinga?” you ask carefully with excitement, remembering how amazing his cooking was back on Christmas Eve. He nods, noticing a bit of a glimmer in your eyes. You chuckle and look around your apartment. It’s a mess. You nod. “I think I could use a break from looking at this mess. And burritos de tinga sound like the perfect way to forget about it for a little bit.” 
With a chuckle, Miguel nods and opens a portal. “I finished cooking a few minutes ago, so it’s just a matter of heating the tortillas.” 
Miguel tilts his head towards the portal, as if motioning to it. With a nod, you step out of your kitchen area just as Miguel moves aside to let you in first. The two of you find yourselves back in Miguel’s penthouse in seconds. You sigh in relief as you’re met with organization and tidiness, stepping aside in Miguel’s living room to let him lead the way. 
Miguel steps out, motioning for you to follow him to his kitchen and dining area. You look around a bit, feeling strange to be back so soon already but quickly put it aside as the lovely scent of food fills your nostrils. Your stomach growls in response, making Miguel look behind his shoulder with an amused look in his eyes. You don’t even try to hide it. 
“I was very close to ordering takeout,” you say as you reach the chairs.
“It's a good thing I messaged you at that time then,” Miguel says as he walks around the kitchen island to the fridge to take out the tortillas. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll start heating the tortillas.” 
You nod and sit on the second chair, leaving the one at the edge for him. You sigh softly and relax into the chair, just now realizing how exhausted you are even as a spider person. “Yes, it’s a good thing. This is a million times better than whatever I was going to get,” you say and chuckle as Miguel turns on the stove and puts a pan to heat the tortillas. He chuckles as he heads back to the fridge to retrieve a pitcher, the same one you used a few days ago. 
He grabs two glasses and ice and pours you some agua de jamaica, sliding it across the counter for you. “How long have you been working on it?” he asks as his eyes find the spot of paint on your cheek again. He doesn’t say anything about it and pours himself a drink, amused. 
You drink the contents of the glass, suddenly realizing how thirsty you are. You lift a finger, motioning to Miguel to give you a second as you drink more before finally setting the glass down. Miguel eyes it and motions to the pitcher as he takes a drink, too. You nod. 
“Yes, please,” you reply before he pours you more. “I started on Thursday morning with breaks in between and decided to try and finish it today, so I woke up extra early. I’m kind of hoping to finish it tonight but I don’t know if that’s going to happen.”
Miguel raises an eyebrow and nods. “You must be exhausted.” He also can’t help but wonder how you got the new couch into your apartment, considering you’re several floors up. 
“A little bit. I think I’ll feel good to go once I eat something. Thank you by the way,” you say softly, smiling. “You didn’t have to but I appreciate it.” 
Miguel nods with a soft smile before he turns around to check the pan. His hand hovers over the pan to feel the heat, and feeling satisfied with it, he places the first two tortillas. 
You look down at your refilled glass and drink some more before you lean back on the seat, feeling your back relax after being hunched over your table for who knows how long. You’re trying really hard not to think about Miguel’s indirect way of saying you’re his friend, so you decide to think of something else, like your apartment and the current mess it’s in. You wonder if you should keep going once you return home or if you should leave it for tomorrow but the idea of leaving the living room a mess another night bothers you. 
The place is a mess but you need to do it. You’ve put it off for four years now, keeping the apartment the same way it was while Peter was alive to cope with the fact that everything and everyone was moving forward while you were stuck in time; refusing to believe everything was over in the blink of an eye. Outside your apartment, people lived their lives. Flowers bloomed and died. Hot and humid days turned into cold and rainy ones with the promise of snow. Everything was moving forward and your apartment was the only place where you could pretend, even for just a few hours, that everything was the same.
You could pretend that Peter would come in through the door any minute from a quick run to the grocery store or from work. Or maybe he came back from collecting the mail, holding another package with new Spider-Woman merch to add to his collection even though you told him repeatedly he didn’t have to buy anything to show his support. He always did anyway and you could never get on to him. How could you? All he wanted to do was support you like he always did and of course, it was always a sight to see him wearing Spider-Woman merch. You smile sadly at your glass, and sigh silently.
So, you kept the apartment the same. You cleaned and tidied up the place regularly but things remained the same. You had the same furniture and kept it in the same place as if nothing had ever happened. You were okay with that, as it was one of your coping mechanisms until last Friday when you looked around, realizing that your apartment has remained untouched by time. 
But, everything and everyone has moved forward, and so have you. 
It hit you suddenly on Thursday, the first morning you woke up back at your place. You spent almost a whole week away but you didn’t think much of it. You woke up, brushed your teeth, and made your bed after leaving it unmade in the early hours of Saturday when your spidey senses were going off. You never imagined that you wouldn’t come back to it until days later. 
You finished making your bed before heading out of the room to get some breakfast but ended up pausing at the doorway, suddenly struck by everything. You were away for so long that the apartment smelled the way a place often does when you spend time away. You slowly walked to the middle of your living room and stood there, looking at everything as if you had stepped into someone else’s home and in a way, you had.
You stepped into the home of another version of you. A version of you that doesn’t exist anymore. You turned around and looked, finding remnants of a woman’s life that no longer exists. 
You stared at your wall with photographs for minutes as it laid out the reality for you. You were staring at pictures with people - once friends - that you now know nothing about. In fact, it reminded you of the time that you saved one of your old friends and their child when they were almost struck by a car. You remember being shocked to see your friend holding on to what appeared to be a two year old. You were so surprised you were only able to nod in response as they thanked you profusely before you swung away. 
Your memory only fueled your realization that the people on those photos were - are - different people now, and so are you. You looked around your space again, realizing the apartment was no longer an accurate representation of who you are or where you’re at in life - so you started the process. You took down the picture frames and removed the photos from a different life long gone with Peter, leaving you with empty picture frames to fill with photos of this new life. As you did that, you saw the rest of the apartment for the first time through a different perspective. You saw the beat up rug, the way that the bookcase’s shelves are dented in the middle from so many years of holding books, and your couch that has seen better days among other things that highlighted the truth.
As the morning sun streamed into your apartment, you saw a new vision for the space that you love and hold dear to your heart. Yes, it could use some improvement and the kitchen is especially a testament to that, as it has had some things here and there in the past, some of which Miguel fixed the first time he was there. You could move somewhere else, having the means to do so but you love it. You’ve loved it from the first moment you laid eyes on it when there was an opening to rent. You knew it was going to be the perfect place to start out before you and Peter eventually moved out, especially with early talks about a family one day but that isn’t in the works now. That’s in the past. Those were the plans of a woman who shared them with her partner. 
Now, you need new plans, even if they don’t fully include Peter. Not in the way you wish, at least. You’re not moving out and don’t plan to even though you’ve been in the same apartment for over five years and it could use some improvement; even when you don’t recognize your neighbors since the previous ones are long gone. 
No, you’re staying and changing your space to honor your current self, starting with the living room before you move to other areas of the apartment, slowly but surely. 
You look up at Miguel just as he slides a plate with burritos to you, your thinking face not going unnoticed by him but he doesn’t ask. He guesses it’s related to the current state of your apartment. You offer him a smile, letting go of your thoughts and focusing on this moment.
“Thank you,” you say and he nods before he walks around and sits next to you. 
He offers you the toppings and refills your glass from which you’ve been drinking from this whole time, making it your third glass. You thank him again and add the toppings to your plate.
The two of you start eating in silence for a few minutes, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company. Miguel is internally happy to see you enjoy the dish once again, as he notices your looks of delight with each bite. The more you eat and relax, the more you start thinking maybe you ought to stop for today and continue tomorrow. 
Miguel cleans his mouth gently and finally breaks the silence as you take a drink from your glass. 
“Would you like more?” he asks and you immediately shake your head. 
“Thank you but no, my hunger has been satisfied. And so has my thirst,” you joke as you motion to your glass, already halfway empty. “Thank you. This is amazing, truly.”
Miguel nods and takes a drink from his own glass, with a soft smile on his face. He’s glad his dinner plan lined up perfectly with today so you could have a good dinner after a long day of redecorating. He places the glass down, suddenly remembering the multiple tabs on your laptop with storage unit searches and your old couch that’s currently partially covered, leading Miguel to piece together that you’re storing it. He thinks of his own furniture, or rather furniture that belonged to Gabriel and his mom, which is all stored away in the next two floors.
“I’m happy that you enjoyed it,” Miguel says nodding to you. “It’s a good thing I planned it for today. A good homemade meal is always great after a long day like yours.”
You grin and nod. “Yes, it is. Except dinner wasn’t only ‘good.’ It was amazing.”
Miguel chuckles quietly and leans back on his chair, making his towering height over you even while sitting, more apparent. “Thank you. I’m really glad you think so,” he answers, looking down at you. His eyes very briefly pass over the paint on your cheek again before his gaze meets yours, still thinking about the furniture and the searches on your laptop. “So, you got a new couch.”
“I did… I think it’s time,” you answer quietly with a small smile, turning your gaze to your glass. You hold it in your hand, twisting it carefully as thoughts of your apartment return. You look up at him again. “I’ve had the same couch - since Peter and I moved in,” you add softly. 
Miguel nods, silently realizing how long you’ve had the couch then. He knows it’s been four years now since Peter’s death since you mentioned it the day of, on top of the years you’ve had it since you bought it. That means the couch has been in your possession for over four years. Yet, it looks like you’re still going to store it anyway. As if reading his thoughts, you tell him about it. 
“Peter and I bought it when we first moved in together. A lot of the furniture was bought then, actually. We were fresh out of college and kind of broke,” you say and laugh quietly. “But we really wanted to move in together and we planned financially for months until we found that apartment. It was perfect for us to start out.” You shake your head slightly, recalling those days. “Anyway, we furnished the place and it’s been the same since. I refused to change it after his death… I just couldn’t,” you whisper, looking back at your glass. 
Miguel closes his hand into a fist, fighting the urge to reach out and comfort you physically. The comment about your apartment being the perfect place to start out for you and Peter makes him remember something. He’s taken back to the first day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. As he was fixing a loose cabinet, he wondered why you lived there when it looked like you had a bad landlord. He remembers thinking you deserve to live somewhere nicer, which is why he asked if you were struggling with money when you mentioned the rent is good. 
He wondered to himself if that was the case as it is for many spider members who find it difficult to keep an everyday job with the duties of a superhero, which is why there’s a program within the Spider Society to help those members out. He instantly regretted asking though, when he saw the way you froze in place after that; your eyes teared up as you glanced at the photo of Peter and you had this faraway look on your face until you said that it didn’t matter as you were out a lot anyway. That was his cue to drop the subject. He knew from that point on that the apartment was important to you but he didn’t realize just how much. 
You clear your throat and smile up at him, oblivious to Miguel’s thoughts and his clenched fist. 
“But - after spending some days away, I went back and it just hit me that I need a change, you know? It’s lovely and it’s served its time but it doesn’t represent me fully anymore, my apartment, I mean. So, I decided to redecorate and that includes a new couch but…” you trail off, thinking about your old couch. It’s not in the best condition anymore but you still can’t find it in yourself to throw it out like nothing. “I don’t want to throw out my old one. Peter and I spent a lot of our evenings there and - I don’t know. I know it’s stupid-” you start but Miguel interrupts you. 
“It’s not stupid,” he says in a serious but reassuring tone as he turns his body more to you, leading to your legs brushing each other’s now. “It’s perfectly normal. I have stored furniture, too,” Miguel shares, wanting to comfort you at least this way. You look up at him then, surprised but at the same time comforted by his words, so he decides to add more. “Gabriel used to live here. The other room was actually his. We lived together for a while until he decided to get his own space. He did a lot of repairs on tech pieces and didn’t want to clutter here,” Miguel says looking around before he looks back at you. “So, he bought the next floor and moved out. After some things happened - my mom also moved to this building. She bought the next floor when it became available, wanting to live closer to us. They didn’t live in their own apartments for long though,” Miguel pauses, thinking about how his mom passed away a year later after she moved in. Gabriel followed suit a little while after her. “I inherited their possessions and - their apartments are still like they left them, for the most part,” Miguel whispers. “I know it’s not easy to let go of items.” 
He can’t help but think about Gabriella and his wife. If he could’ve kept their belongings, he would’ve. The only thing he has left is Gabriella’s acoustic guitar that he brought to Nueva York a few days before their universe collapsed. He was going to tune it for Gabi but he never got to it. Now, it’s the only physical item he has left of her, so he keeps it safe downstairs in one of the bedrooms, only retrieving it when necessary like on Dia de los Muertos to offer it to Gabi. 
You nod softly, feeling comforted by his words and also touched that he has shared yet something else with you. You lay your hands on your lap. “Thank you, that really - that really makes me feel better,” you reply quietly, giving him a relieved smile. “I appreciate it.” 
Miguel nods, at last relaxing his fist as he sees your smile. “Always,” he answers quietly before he remembers the searches on your laptop again. His eyebrows furrow a bit. “I didn’t mean to intrude but I saw the searches on your laptop when you offered me something to drink. You’re putting it in a storage unit?” 
You nod. “Yes.” You sigh deeply, remembering your search. Your sigh sounds tired to Miguel. He’s been unable to stop thinking about it and he realizes now it’s because he’s been worrying about your belongings. “I’ve been looking for storage units but they all have mixed reviews. I’m going to visit each place and see which one is better this upcoming week to compare.”
Miguel nods. “Yeah, that sounds like the best idea to avoid any damage to your belongings.” 
You nod before you take another drink of agua de jamaica. 
Miguel looks down at his own glass, thinking. “You know…” he starts, making you turn to him slightly. He looks at the remnants of his drink. The ice has melted quite a lot, diluting the agua de jamaica into a light maroon color now. “No one goes downstairs but me. I clean both floors twice a month to make sure they remain clean. If you want…” he says and turns to you. “If you want, you can store your furniture there. It’d be safer.”
You start shaking your head as soon as he’s done talking. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you but I can’t possibly accept that,” you decline politely.
Miguel’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “You’d have access to it at all times. You don’t have to let me know if you decide to come in and check on it. It’ll be safe here, probably more so than in most storage units,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t mind.”
You shake your head. “That’s too much, Miguel. It’ll be cluttering your space. Thank you but no. I appreciate the thought, though.”
Miguel shrugs, still looking down at you. “No one lives there. I hardly go down there except to clean. It won’t be an inconvenience to anyone. Seriously,” Miguel says. “Just think about it. All the furniture downstairs has been stored for years and it’s intact. I’d hate for something to happen to your belongings,” he says softly, genuinely concerned when he can tell how much the couch alone means to you. 
You sigh softly, thinking about it and Miguel wonders why you’re being so stubborn about this. It’s a simple offer. 
“Are you worried something is going to happen to them here?” he asks you. 
“No, of course not. I’m pretty sure they’d probably be safer here than in most storage units but -” you pause. “I don’t know.”
Miguel shakes his head in amusement. “I won’t let anything happen to your furniture and you can come in any time you want. I’ll show you how to access the floor and everything. Really, it’s not an inconvenience, Y/N.”
You sigh again thinking for a few seconds until you nod slowly. “Are you sure, though?” you ask, making Miguel tilt his head to the side with a soft grin. 
“I’m sure. C’mon, I’ll show you the space so you can see it’s clean,” he says standing up. “I’ll clear this up later, don’t worry about it,” he says when he notices you pick up your plate, taking it from your hand gently and putting it back on the counter. 
He motions for you to follow him, walking the opposite way of the living room. You follow him, thinking about how you haven’t seen the entrance to his penthouse, or a laundry room for that matter now that you think about it. Miguel comes close to the wall and he opens a door that you hadn’t even noticed before with ease. He turns around to let you in first. “Sleek doors,” he says, noticing your confusion. “They’re meant to blend in with the walls to give the space a sleeker look.” 
You nod and thank him as you step into a hallway that leads to another room. You spot three doors in the hallway, actually noticing them this time even though they’re sleek doors, too. 
“Laundry room,” Miguel says, motioning to the first door on the right. “A bathroom for guests,” he says, pointing to the second door. “And another office,” he says for the single door on the left. You follow him down the hallway, stepping out into another living room, smaller than the other one but still larger than your own apartment. “A living room for guests, while the other one is for family and friends,” Miguel explains. 
“It’s lovely,” you reply genuinely because even though this is supposed to be smaller and perhaps less personal, it’s still a very beautiful living room that leads to a grand entrance. You keep following Miguel as he leads you out of his penthouse, stepping out into his private entry before you enter an elevator and reach the next floor. 
The two of you step out of the elevator with Miguel continuing to lead the way to the apartment’s front door. He reaches out and presses his finger to a screen on the wall, which scans his entire hand before the door unlocks. He opens it and lets you in first. You slowly walk down a hallway that opens up to the entire apartment, which is impressive and luxurious. You see furniture, or rather the shapes of it, as everything is covered just like Miguel said. Blinds cover the windows completely, keeping the sunlight out. Everything looks organized and clean, even the picture frames on the wall, which your eyes very briefly scan, noticing Miguel is in some of them with Gabriel. You look away out of respect and focus on the apartment itself. 
Miguel stands behind you, giving you time to look around before he does the same. His eyes land on the photos on the wall. He thought about taking them down but never got to it and he eventually thought about how Gabriel wouldn’t like it either, especially when Miguel still has the apartment in his possession. So, he just left them up. You turn around to face him and nod. 
“The blinds keep the sunlight out and the temperature is right to avoid any damage. Everything has a protective sheet, as you can see,” Miguel says, looking away from the photos. “No one else comes here except for me.”
You nod again. This is much better than any of the photos you saw from actual storage units, of course. You look around again ready to ask about the payment, noticing that Miguel is looking at another photo. 
“What do you think?” he asks gently. “I think it’s better than a storage unit and you don’t have to worry about paying,” he says, giving you a glance. “I know you were just about to ask.” 
You smile and laugh.”You can read minds, too?”
“I saw it on your face,” Miguel answers with a shrug, smiling softly before he turns his attention back to the photo. It’s of Gabriel and him. In fact, a majority of the photos in the apartment are of them. A few have their mother, too, though there’s no sign of the father.  
You stand a few feet away from Miguel in silence, not wanting to intrude. He seems lost in thought with his unwavering gaze on the photo, and how could he not when Gabriel has been on his mind all week. Miguel’s loved ones are always present in his mind but that’s especially true after what happened a week ago. 
“He was better than me with the decoration,” Miguel mutters, still looking at the photo. “He and my mom got on to me about it. They were the ones that decorated the penthouse after I went a few months without doing anything to it. Gabriel on the other hand… He had all these photos hung up three days after moving in.”
You nod, though Miguel isn’t facing you. You look at the photo from where you are, noticing that the O’Hara brothers look to be in their teens and even then, Miguel towered over Gabriel.
Miguel shakes his head softly. He feels like a lot has changed since the last time he was here and it wasn’t that long ago. Now, he’s here again with you, and that makes you the first person that’s visited this apartment in years besides himself. If Gabriel is really out there, with the rest of his family, he wonders what they think of this fact and of you. He suddenly remembers his dream and how they kept telling him you were calling him. He recalls the way they seemed delighted about it, and he takes that as a sign that if they’re out there - or here, who knows - they must be happy about this, too. 
Miguel sighs softly and turns around to face you at last with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about - my family,” he says, wondering when he’ll tell you about his dream because it’s no longer about whether or not he will. Not anymore. 
“Don’t apologize. I understand,” you answer, smiling. 
“You know - they would’ve really liked you,” he quietly says, which catches you by surprise.
“I - Thank you. I wish I could’ve met them,” you reply, and he nods, wishing, too.
“Me, too,” he answers in a hushed tone. He clears his throat softly. “So… What do you think?” he says motioning to the apartment. 
“Yes,” you say, nodding, feeling a bit embarrassed to accept his offer. “If it’s not too much… I’d really appreciate it.” 
Miguel nods. “It’s not an inconvenience. Believe me. Do you want to bring it right now? I can help you, if you want,” he offers, even though he knows you might want to do it on your own. 
“You’re already doing me a big favor… I don’t want to bother you with one more thing.” 
“You wouldn’t be bothering me, Y/N. It’s not an inconvenience. Please…”
Please let me help you, Miguel wants to say but the words don’t come out, so instead he holds your gaze and hopes you can see it in his eyes; that he wishes to help you, if only you let him. 
You nod slowly, eyes softening at the sight. “Alright… Thank you. I guess I could use some help, since I’m moving it across the multiverse.” 
Miguel nods, amused but glad that you’ve accepted his help. “I’ve never transported furniture through the multiverse, so this will be a first for the two of us.”
You laugh, even though you feel like you’re overstepping by bringing your couch here but in the end, Miguel and you successfully move your couch from your universe to his. As soon as you step back into Nueva York, Miguel carries it on his own like it weighs nothing. He places it near a wall once you tell him he can put it anywhere after he asks if you have a preference. He retrieves a protective sheet before turning around to face you.  
“Thank you so much,” you say genuinely, feeling bittersweet to see your couch in another space. You smile fondly at it, forgetting for a second that Miguel is in the room with you, and of course, he notices the look on your face. 
“I’ll wait outside,” he says quietly but you shake your head. 
“No, it’s okay. It’s - It’s just a couch,” you say softly but you know it’s not true. It was once the couch that completed an old vision for your apartment. One that included Peter. It was the couch you spent your evenings on, reading your books before he asked you to dance with him to his favorite songs. It was also the couch on which you sat with Peter’s head on your lap as your fingers played with his hair after a long day from work to ease his stress. 
Miguel walks to you and offers the protective sheet, knowing you must do it. He walks around you and stands a few feet away to give you space. You walk over to your couch, letting the protective sheet unfold. You don’t give your couch a “goodbye” but rather a silent “bye” as you know it’s not the last time you’ll see it. You smile fondly at it before you drape the protective sheet over it, covering it fully. You step back, letting your eyes trace the familiar outline of it and sigh. It’s time. One more step forward. You feel a tear roll down your face and wipe it away discreetly, thinking about how Peter would be proud of you for taking this step. You smile at the thought of him, sweet Peter. You nod softly and turn around to face Miguel, still smiling.  
Even from afar, he can see the trace of a tear on your cheek, softening his expression. He’s relieved you’re not crying because he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle seeing you in such a vulnerable state. The thought alone… devastates him. 
Yet, you smile at him and nod. “Thank you,” you say softly, almost a whisper. “I really appreciate it.”
Miguel nods back. “Always,” he replies in the same tone, smiling softly. 
The two of you head out of the apartment shortly after, stopping outside the front door so Miguel can add your fingerprint to the system. The process takes only a couple of seconds before you head back to his penthouse where Miguel offers you a coffee as a way to comfort you. You accept, still thinking about your couch while Miguel prepares a special kind of coffee. Café de olla. The two of you sit side by side once it’s ready, drinking it slowly and enjoying the rich scent and flavor. You smile up at him. 
“Thank you for the great coffee. And for dinner, on top of letting me store my couch here,” you say, just thanking him over and over again, making Miguel chuckle quietly. 
He looks down at you, remembering the paint on your face. He gets up without saying anything and retrieves a towel to run under warm water before he returns to you. You watch him with curiosity, wondering what he’s doing. He takes a seat and turns to you. 
“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, holding the towel. “You have some - paint here,” he says as he slowly lifts the towel to your face, as if unsure of what he's about to do but he ends up going for it. He gently cleans the paint off your face and you chuckle quietly. 
“All this time and you didn’t tell me?” you ask, feigning disbelief. 
Miguel withdraws the towel once the paint is gone. “It wasn’t that noticeable, don’t worry.”
You shake your head at him, smiling. “I don’t believe that but I’ll let it slide because of this amazing coffee.”
Miguel puts the towel down on the counter, amused. He looks at the time and realizes how much later it is. It seems that each time the two of you are together, time flies by. He takes a sip of the coffee, thinking. 
“Are you still going to work on your apartment or are you calling it a day?” he asks, genuinely wanting to know if you’re going to keep working. 
You shrug. “I feel kind of tired - but I think I may work on less strenuous things.”
“Like what?” Miguel asks curiously. 
“I have some new art to hang up and I’m going to choose new photos.”
Miguel nods, making him look around his own place. It’s been the same for years. He’s about to tell you that when Lyla appears. 
“Hello, you two! Smile!” she says, catching the two of you by surprise. 
You look over at Lyla as she displays a photo of you and Miguel, just taken. 
“Lyla,” Miguel says. 
“What? I’m just taking a picture to add to my file.”
That makes you and Miguel raise your eyebrows. 
“File?” you ask. 
“Oh - Uh, did I say file? I’m so tired from work I misspoke,” Lyla says shrugging and laughing nervously. 
“You said file,” Miguel says, narrowing his eyes as he has no knowledge of this file. 
“Okay, so I may have some photos of you guys and like - of the rest of the members.”
“What kind of photos?” Miguel asks.
“Normal photos, Miguel. I’m not a creep.”
“May we see them?” you ask. 
Lyla crosses her arms over her chest, thinking. “Fine, since you asked so nicely and you’re one of my top five favorite spider members. I’ll do a slideshow for you,” Lyla says with a grin before she does exactly that. 
The two of you watch as Lyla starts displaying different photos specifically of you and Miguel with Lyla making appearances sometimes. Some appear to have been taken on rooftops in other universes from when you and Miguel go off to the tallest buildings. Other photos show the two of you talking before meetings with your coffee cups making appearances, too. There’s one from Christmas Eve with the two of you leaning over the windows watching the holographic Christmas light show and another one of Miguel showing you how to design an ornament. The last photos of the slideshow are from the last few days at the infirmary room, which includes a picture of the moment Miguel made a face after he ate the horrible carrot. It makes Lyla giggle but she quickly shuts up when she sees Miguel glaring at her for a few seconds. He notices you covering your mouth as if stifling a laugh. He shakes his head in both amusement and disbelief.
“I can’t believe I ate that,” he says. “You didn’t believe me when I said it was going to be bad.”
“In my defense, I thought it’d be better since it’s Nueva York.”
Miguel scoffs playfully. “Yeah, well… It’s no wonder why the no outside food rule is disregarded, to be honest.”
You chuckle before the two of you return your attention to the slideshow. There’s a photo of the two of you watching one of the movies from last Saturday. Another one of the two of you sleeping which makes you and Miguel raise your eyebrows at Lyla. She shrugs. 
“Accidental photo, my bad. At least I got good angles of you.”
Miguel rolls his eyes remembering how she called him a creep for watching you sleep but here she was, with a photo of the two of you sleeping. 
Then, there are a few photos of when your friends showed up. The rest are from the two days you spent here, like you cooking and Miguel sleeping in the living room. At last, the final one is the one Lyla took just moments ago, though there are a few more that Lyla doesn’t display.
You nod slowly and turn to Miguel, who meets your eyes. You think about it for a few seconds, gaining the courage to ask him. 
“May I have a copy of some of these?” Miguel raises an eyebrow and you quickly explain yourself. “Not the ones of you sleeping or us sleeping but you know - like the one from Christmas Eve or when everyone showed up? I’d love to add a few to my wall, if you don’t  mind.”
Miguel nods, amused. “Yes, of course. Just tell Lyla which ones you want and I’ll get them for you. Let me put this stuff away while you tell her,” he says, motioning to the toppings from dinner. 
You quickly tell Lyla which ones, which leads Miguel to go to his office. He comes back a minute later with a flash drive. He hands it to you. “They’re all there,” he says and you thank him as the two of you return to your seats to finish drinking your coffee. 
“Wait… Are you guys drinking coffee? Miguel, you should probably not drink that considering you’ve been struggling to sleep the last two - three nights,” Lyla says, raising an eyebrow. 
You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow of your own. “You’ve been struggling to sleep?” you ask softly, your tone laced with worry. 
Miguel wants to glare at Lyla, who shrugs but he finds himself unable to as he meets your gaze. “It’s alright. Sometimes it happens,” he says. 
“It wasn’t happening lately until the last three nights,” Lyla adds, gaining herself Miguel’s gaze.
“Lyla,” Miguel warns her gently but with a hint of authority.
“I’m just saying - I don’t think Y/N would mind - if you just ask her,” Lyla says nonchalantly, somehow knowing the current solution to his sleep problems.
“Ask me what?” you ask Miguel curiously. 
“It’s nothing, Y/N. Lyla appears to have a bug, probably from the system failure from last weekend,” he answers but you’re not convinced. 
“If I can help you somehow… Please let me know,” you say but Miguel shakes his head.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I just - It happens sometimes,” Miguel says, trying to convince you it’s nothing so the conversation can be dropped. He’s not about to tell you the truth. He can’t. It’s too much. 
“Miguel - it’s really not that big of a deal. Y/N probably wouldn’t min-” Lyla starts. 
“Lyla, deactivate,” Miguel says evenly, making Lyla disappear instantly. 
You sit there, holding your cup of coffee staring at nothing now. You turn slightly to Miguel, giving him a small but reassuring smile. You can tell he really doesn’t want to talk about it, so you bring the cup of coffee to your lips and drink quietly. Miguel sighs next to you, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
“I’m sorry you had to see - and hear me - like that,” Miguel says quietly. 
“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” you answer, putting your cup down on the counter but still holding it. “Lyla can really push buttons, sometimes.”
“More than sometimes,” Miguel grumbles but now he feels horrible for the way he reacted in front of you. It’s nothing compared to the ways he’s reacted in the past, he knows that but it bothers him that you’ve seen a different side of him now, or at least a glimpse. “I can’t talk about it.”
You nod slowly. “I understand. You don’t have to,” you answer without judgment, though you wish he’d tell you about it, especially if you can help him somehow. 
Neither of you say anything for a minute or two. You continue to drink your coffee silently, trying to give Miguel some time to come back from this moment. Meanwhile, he’s internally fighting with himself. He’s embarrassed to tell you but now there’s also the need to explain it anyway, so you understand why he reacted the way he did towards Lyla. He sighs silently and runs a hand through his hair, wishing Lyla hadn’t said anything. At last, he picks up his own cup of coffee and drinks before he sighs again. He is trying, isn’t he? He said he will. 
“I’ve avoided sleep since Gabriella’s…” Miguel starts, his voice almost a whisper. 
You look up at him and start shaking your head slightly, wanting to tell him that he doesn’t have to explain anything; that he doesn’t have to give any explanations to anyone, not even you but Miguel shakes his head gently, knowing what you want to say. “I should… You said talking about it helps, right?” he asks softly. “On Christmas Eve, you said it helps to talk about it.”
You pause, remembering you said that many months ago while sitting on the same chair. You nod slowly but say nothing. Miguel nods back, meeting your eyes. 
“I’ve avoided sleep since then because of - nightmares,” he continues. “It was easier to not sleep. To keep working. I’ve only been sleeping when my body is extremely exhausted. I take naps,” he reveals, breaking your heart with each word that leaves his lips because that means that he truly doesn’t sleep that much. Then there’s the nightmares part and you can only imagine what they involve if they started after what happened with Gabriella’s universe. You feel your hand itch to reach over and hold his. You want to comfort him for his lack of sleep, for the nightmares, for his vulnerability right now, and for the fact that it seems that he’s trying to sleep these days but hasn’t been able to. You feel incredibly sad as his revelation confirms your suspicions that this past week has been the first time Miguel has slept well in a long time, and it breaks you even more to know it was because of his injuries and not a good reason. You yearn to reach out and comfort him but you hold back, resting your hand on your thigh instead and keeping it there.
“I’ve been living like this since then and - I’ve tried to sleep this week. To recover. It was working but not anymore, even when I want to,” Miguel says so quietly, still holding your gaze. 
You nod, wishing you could do something even if it’s just offering advice but you’ve never been in his shoes. You lost Peter but you didn’t have nightmares about it. You dreamt of him often after his death but they were always pleasant dreams, which have decreased over the years. 
Miguel looks away before he continues. “Something has been helping me recently.”
You clear your throat softly. “What is it? We can get it so you can rest properly, Miguel,” you offer, noticing Miguel’s fist clenched softly. 
“I don’t know how to say this.”
You sit still, not sure if you should encourage him or just remain quiet and give him time to speak. You want to respect his boundaries. You want to give him space. Yet, you also want him to sleep well, especially now that he’s admitted that he’s trying and no longer avoiding sleeping. It makes you wonder again if last weekend’s event has impacted him more than you thought. 
“Your breathing,” Miguel mutters at last, almost making you miss it. You keep still, trying not to show your surprise once his words register. “The sound of your breathing when you sleep - and your scent. It’s been helping me sleep,” Miguel quietly admits at last with a tone that lets you know he’s ashamed of it. 
You sit there for about a second or two, not thinking about it for too long because you don’t want your silence to be mistaken as a negative reaction, so you smile and look at him, searching his face. There’s a slight tint to his cheeks and he’s avoiding your gaze. 
“Well, then… I’m sure with the gizmo Lyla can record my breathing when I sleep, right?” you ask gently. “Tonight, we can do a live feed and record it in the process,” you offer, making Miguel turn his head to you in surprise. Here you are, offering to have your sleep be recorded so he can use it and sleep himself. 
“Y/N… No, that’s too much. I’m just trying to explain this mess Lyla made,” he says quietly. 
“It’s not too much, Miguel. If it’s going to help you sleep, it’s not. I don’t mind,” you answer and give him a reassuring smile. “And my scent,” you pause, thinking. “Do you think a sweatshirt would help? I wear one to sleep all the time because I get cold during the night. I can give you one each week so it’s fresh. We can rotate,” you offer, thinking about it and nodding to yourself as this seems the best course of action. “I’ll bring you the one I’ve been using the last couple of nights.”
Miguel shakes his head. “I don’t want you to feel-”
“I don’t,” you counter. “I want to help. I want you to sleep well, and if this helps, let’s do it. I don’t mind. If it works, you’ll let me know by accepting the new sweatshirt each week. No words need to be exchanged. If it stops working, you’ll let me know by declining the sweatshirt. We’ll find another method then, okay?” you ask softly. 
Seeing the tender look on your face and hearing your reassuring words, Miguel nods slowly. “Thank you,” he hesitantly answers, feeling embarrassed. 
You smile at him kindly. “Always.”
He gives you a soft, almost shy smile and you know this is too much for the founder and commander of the Spider Society, so you try to ease the situation for him to make him feel comfortable again. 
“This coffee is really good,” you say as your attempt to lighten up the mood. You want to bring back the carefree Miguel from earlier. 
Miguel hums. “It’s even better with a piece of pan dulce,” he says looking at his own coffee. “Gabriel and I used to make this kind of coffee on Saturdays when we had more time,” he shares. Sometimes they took turns making it and they’d always bring a cup to each other wherever they were in the penthouse. Even when Gabriel moved to his own floor, the tradition carried on. Miguel can’t help himself from thinking that Gabriel is probably happy he’s made some again, which happens to be on a Saturday. He can almost hear him telling him to make it a thing again, even if Gabriel isn’t here anymore. He looks over at you suddenly, his embarrassment subsiding now thanks to your change of conversation, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. He’s noticed the way you always try to make hard situations for him better and he appreciates it. So much. It encourages him even more to embrace this new journey. “If you’re not too busy next Saturday, I could make more and buy pan dulce.”
You nod slowly, smiling. “That sounds great.” You pause, thinking. “And since you cooked today, I can cook something then. I promise my living room will look presentable again.”
Miguel hides it well but he’s surprised at the subtle invitation for dinner. He nods slowly and chuckles. “Very well. And I’m sure it will.” 
You nod and smile before you look at the time, wondering where the time has gone, sharing Miguel’s feeling from earlier. Time flies when you’re in each other’s presence. You finish your coffee and motion to the kitchen as it still needs to be cleaned.
“Do you want help picking up your kitchen?” you ask but Miguel quickly shakes his head. 
“I can take care of it but thank you though,” he responds softly. 
“Well, I should probably head home now. It’s getting pretty late and you still need rest. Your wounds doing good?” you ask as you get up at last.
“Yes. The smaller ones are closed up. It’s just the trident wound now,” Miguel answers standing up, too, as his hand brushes past the hem of his shirt since he’s wearing normal clothes today. He wants to show you the progress but he’s not sure about randomly pulling up his shirt to show you. He ends up doing it anyway, deciding that you’ve seen him in far less appropriate ways since he’s certain that you unfortunately caught glimpses of certain parts of his body when you helped him get dressed. The two of you tried your best but only so much could be covered at some points, which makes Miguel’s face feel suddenly hot but he ignores it as he shows you. 
Your eyes fall on his tan and bare skin. There’s hardly any sign of injuries, except for the trident wound, which is still in the process of healing. You nod, satisfied that he’s almost fully recovered before looking up at him, not wanting to stare for too long at his well defined body. 
“I’m happy to see that you’re recovering well. I’m sure the trident wound will heal completely in a few days.” 
“I think so, too,” Miguel says, letting go of his shirt. “I also want to thank you for helping me with my injuries. I know it was probably - Some people don’t do well seeing injuries like that. Yet, I still asked you even with a medical team available,” he says with a sigh. “It really meant a lot to me as you know that I can’t… You know,” he says softly, referring to his boundary regarding physical touch. “Thank you for putting up with me.”
You shake your head. “I wanted to help you, Miguel. I wasn’t ‘putting up’ with you. My only worry was I wasn’t going to do it properly and I didn’t want to hurt you.” 
Miguel chuckles quietly. “I felt no pain with you and I’m certain my less serious injuries are fully healed because of you. So, thank you, again, for everything, Y/N.”
And when he emphasizes “everything” once again, Miguel now includes his sleeping situation and the fact that you’ve unselfishly offered to help him again. 
You smile brightly at him. “Always… So, let me get you the sweatshirt,” you say as you start clicking on your gizmo. 
“I’ll go with you, if that’s okay. That way you can stay home already and not make multiple trips. It’s the least I can do,” Miguel says quietly and you nod slowly. 
“Just ignore the mess,” you chuckle and Miguel raises an eyebrow, playfully. 
“Even your mess is organized,” he comments, which makes you laugh as you pick up the flash drive from earlier, making sure to hold on to it. 
You head to the living room with Miguel behind, remembering that the multidimensional portals make nearby objects float so you want to avoid the kitchen. You open the portal and motion to Miguel to follow you. You step into your living room and quickly go to turn on a light since you forgot to leave one on before you left. 
You place the flash drive next to your laptop, telling Miguel to give you a second before entering your bedroom to retrieve the sweatshirt. Miguel looks around your apartment while he waits, feeling embarrassed that he’s actually doing this. He tries to let it go and focuses on the current state of your living room instead, noticing the new bookcase you have yet to put together and a few other boxes he didn’t notice earlier. He thinks of something just as you step out of your bedroom holding a sweatshirt with a smile. 
“Here we go. Next Saturday, we exchange,” you say, still smiling as he hesitantly accepts it. 
Miguel holds it gently, feeling the softness of the fabric. He nods while looking down at you. “Thank you. Next Saturday then…” he says and you nod. 
“Next Saturday after dinner.”
“Alright, sounds good,” Miguel quietly responds. “I’ll go ahead and head out. You must be tired from working on your apartment all day. Rest well.”
“You, too. I’ll tell Lyla about-” you start. 
“Don’t worry, I got it under cover,” Lyla says, appearing suddenly, surprising you because she’s supposed to be deactivated. A thought Miguel voices out loud. “I have my ways of coming back,” she replies with a shrug. 
You shake your head in amusement. “Alright. Well, it seems like Lyla knows what to do. Good night, Miguel,” you say softly. 
“Good night, Y/N,” Miguel answers. He looks at Lyla and gives her a warning look. “Behave Lyla.”
“I always do,” she responds, which earns her a scoff. 
Miguel gives you a soft smile and a nod as he’s about to enter the portal to head home but he stops. Still holding your sweatshirt, he turns sideways.
“Before I head home… Would you like some help?” 
You slightly raise an eyebrow. “Help?”
Miguel nods and motions to your living room. “You know - With your apartment.”
You hold his gaze for a few seconds, thinking. You spent the majority of your mourning journey on your own and thought it’d end the same way. You had every intention of doing this on your own, too. You thought you needed to. And yet, as you look at Miguel, you realize that just because you started this transition in your life alone, doesn’t mean you must end it the same way. 
You smile. “How do you feel about putting a bookcase together?”
Miguel looks over at the bookcase’s box before he returns his gaze to you, smiling softly. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
You chuckle and you’re about to tell him you were joking about the bookcase and that you’d appreciate help hanging up new wall decorations but before you can speak, Miguel beats you to it. “I can drop by tomorrow. Just let me know what time would be best for you,” he says, sincerely. 
You nod slowly. “Midday? Lunch on me,” you say softly and Miguel nods. 
“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow then… Goodnight,” he says. 
“Goodnight! Thank you, by the way.”
“Always,” Miguel replies. With one last nod and a small smile, he heads out holding your sweatshirt in his hand. 
You stand there and watch the floating objects fall to the ground as the portal closes after him.
Before you jump in the shower, you quickly set the photos from the flash drive to print since you have the supplies. Thirty minutes later you’re placing all the photos you’ll be using in the now dry picture frames. You hang them on your wall and try different variations for a few minutes. You take a step back at last, happy with the last variation. There are now other pictures of Peter, some of which were some of the last photos you took of him like the one where he’s showing off his “Spider-Woman’s #1 Fan” t-shirt. It was one of the last things he bought before he passed away.
The rest of the photos are of your new friends. You spot the one Pav took of the time Hobie, Pav, and you went to get ice cream at Hobie’s universe, which was quite the experience. Then there’s one where everyone went to Gwen’s universe to eat bagels from her favorite bagel place among others that even includes the Morales family. Your gaze shifts to the ones of Miguel and you.
You asked for the pictures from Christmas Eve, a few from the two of you on rooftops, and the one from today before they land on the last one. You didn’t ask for it but it was in the flash drive. You smile as your eyes scan the photo of Miguel making a face after eating the steamed carrot while you stand next to him, watching him. You were surprised to see it in the pile of printed photos when you got out of the shower and wondered if it was a mistake but then you thought about it and realized Miguel wouldn’t make a simple mistake like that. Right? 
And the truth is no, it wasn’t a mistake. Miguel added it because he saw you found it amusing. So now it’s on your wall, next to a picture of Peter and you. You yawn softly and smile before you turn around to look at your apartment. There’s the empty spot from your old couch ready to be filled with the new one and even though you have the urge to clean the area and go ahead and place it, you decide to leave it for tomorrow.
You do your night routine, put your gizmo back on so Lyla can do her thing, and get in bed, falling asleep almost immediately. 
Back in Nueva York, Miguel lays on his bed a little while after cleaning the kitchen. He stares at the ceiling, thinking. Your sweatshirt is on the other side of the bed, over the pillows. A few minutes later, Lyla appears and tells him she’s about to play the live feed from your gizmo. He sighs in disbelief when she disappears, unable to believe this is happening but his thoughts stop when he hears your slow and even breathing. He closes his eyes, feeling the effect almost immediately. He hesitantly reaches for your sweatshirt and pulls it closer, letting your scent surround him. 
It’s only a matter of minutes before Miguel falls asleep to the sound of your live breathing and scent. He falls into a deep slumber, unknowingly seeking to be closer to your sweatshirt in his sleep. He fulfills his quest by pressing the soft fabric to his face. 
_________________
*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Really love getting to include more Mexican/Latin details ❤️
-Ternura - endearing, tenderness; I've been thinking about this for such a long time because of Miguel lol I can't think of another word in English that has the same feeling "ternura" does. I don't know if it's just me or if other Spanish-speakers can relate
-"Trataré. Te lo juro." - "I will try. I swear."
-Flautas - literally translates to "flute" haha but it's a deep fried tortilla with filling and topped with different toppings.
-Agua de jamaica - Hibiscus tea (I drink this every day lol)
-Agua Fresca - translates to "fresh water"; there are different flavors like horchata water
-Canelita - cinnamon tea
-Mierda - shit
-Burritos de Tinga - translates to "Tinga burritos"; Latin dish made out of meat (pork, chicken) in sauce with onions, chiles chipotle and tomatoes. Can be eaten on tostadas or in burritos (my experience)
-Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead
-Café de olla - coffee made in a pot
-Pan Dulce - sweet bread (it's that time of the year, iykyk)
________________
Hi, guys! First, I hope you enjoyed this new update! Second, I want to apologize for updating almost a month later. I'm so sorry! This part took me a while to write and there were some sections I wasn't initially happy with, so I took extra time to work on them. Then, I got sick lol I was hoping to update sooner but that kind of threw off my plans. I was even hoping to do a Halloween special for the story (short drabble) but life happens.
I'm actually thinking about doing a Thanksgiving one now. I know not everyone celebrates but I don't know, it would be kind of cute and just a short drabble connected to the storyline, not an official part if that makes sense. Just something to read on Thanksgiving related to Miguel x reader and the other spider members! ☺️ if you're interested in getting tagged for that (if all goes well and I actually get to write it), please let me know. Or, you can always just look for it on my masterlist, of course!
Also, I wanted to say a huge THANK YOU for all the support part 9 received!!! Like, for real, thank you SO MUCH!! I think it's the part that's had the most support right after I posted it (besides part 1) regarding reblogs, comments, and asks. It meant a lot to me as several days went into that part specifically because of how long it was, so I really appreciate it and I'm just really happy that so many of you enjoyed it. ❤️🥹
I think that's all I have to say! Thank you again for the amazing support and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I hope you're all having a wonderful start to November, which just makes me wonder where did this year went?! I swear it was just February and now we're here lol but anyway, have a great start to November and take care of yourselves!!
P.S. Please check out the amazing fanart that has been created for Nonviolent Communication! It can be found in my masterlist! Thank you to the amazing talented artists for your support, it means so, so much to me!!! ❤️
-Alondra
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Tag list:
@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner
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goldenhourwriter · 9 months
Text
•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•
part one • part two (you are here) •
⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader
⋆warning(s): i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.
⋆a/n: oh i love writing sassy spider-people
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"And then the hot sandwhiches in the cafeteria suck ass, like, at least melt the cheese. I don't want some luke warm sandwhich that can't decide whether to be hot or cold!"
I hum absentmindely, playing with my bracelets as Ben Parker keeps mumbling and moping on and on about how his life is so terrible compared to all the other Spider-Men. Honestly, when I said he was allowed to get some things off his chest, I thought he meant telling me about the mission that went bad with him, not his whole life story from birth to this moment. He sighs dramtically, plopping his head down at the table we're sitting at, and I flinch at the sudden jolt of motion, my eyes lifting to look at him. He lets out a low, dramtic wail. "See? You don't care either!" He drawls. I roll my eyes.
"Nobody is looking at you, Ben, quit it." He rolls his head to the side with the most awful puppy-eyes I have ever seen. I give him a sarcastic, annoyed smile.
"Sorry, correction. Nobody is looking at you as if they hold any sympathy for you," I tell him as I stand up, having to take a moment to regain my balance from the whale that I am now. He sneers at me, his hair all dishelved from the way he's been tugging at it for the past hour. "I'll have you know that many people give their sympathy to me! There-there should be a book written about me! Or-or even better, a movie!" He calls out with frustration as I walk away from him. I scoff, not even bothering to justify his shouting at me with a glance over my shoulder. The doors to the cafeteria open and then close, and I heave out a sigh.
I think I'd hurl myself out the window if I hear his life story for the 30th time. It's a topic he loves discussing.
"Hey! Y/N!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. I whip my head around. It could be any spider-person calling my name. From any floor, wall, ceiling, corner, web, anything. You never really know where to look when you work at a place like this.
The voice calls my name again, and this time it's more clearer, calling out behind me. I turn around and see Gwen walking towards me, a smile on her face. I let out a small breath of relief, grateful it's at least someone I enjoy being around, and not like one of the mind-numblingly boring Spder-Men who can't quit talking about how rough they have it. I hope you get who I'm referring to.
I walk a few steps, beginning to speak and raise my hand to wave in greeting, but she stops me with her hands. "No! No! Please, we'll meet you there."
Considerate. I love it. But I also hate it.
I put one hand on my belly, and one hand on my hip, jutting it out with. I give her a soft smile. "You're awre I can still walk, correct? I'm not toally useless," I sigh. She shrugs, not really responding. She holds her hand up to gesture to....something. But I don't really see what it's supposed to be.
"This is Miles," she smiles, with a hint of annoyance in her eye. I look to the side of her which she's gesturing to, but I raise my eyebrows.
"Gwen? Have we really drove you that crazy that you're making people up?" I ask, looking back at her. Her face drops in confusion, and she looks to her side. She groans, throwing her hands down into fists and spins around. I look past her, and I see another teen, presumably Miles, awe-struck and looking around everywhere. He seems a bit lost, but that doesn't hold a candle to the child-like wonder that is clear on his face.
"Miles! I told you not to fall behind!" She shouts at him. Immediatley, he snaps out of his daze, and he looks at her like a lost puppy. I've seen that before. I um, the pieces clicking in my mind, and I watch on with amusement.
This is the kid Gwen usually doesn't shut up about.
I snicker.
Cute, I think to myself as he smiles at her and mumbles an apology. They both clearly have feelings for one another. But, there is that air of nothing is established. A sort of tension. He looks at me finally, and his eyes immediatley drop to my stomach.
"You're pregnant?" He blurts out, and, despite his dark skin, I can still clearly see him blushing at his outburst. I furrow my brows at him, a bit worried that he might faint. Gwen closes her eyes, annoyed, and elbows him in the gut. I bite back a smile while straightening.
"Yes, I am pregnant. And don't even think about apologizing, all the new recruits have the same reaction." I smile as I think back to all of the young adults and teens I've met, each wondering in shock how I'm able to fight crime with two babies in me.
He goes to talk, and stick out his hand for me to shake, but Gwen hits him again.
"He's actually not a recruit, Miguel needed to see him. He's caused a bit of....well..." she trails off. I let out a small sound of understanding as I look at her while she's explaining. I look back at Miles.
"Well, I've already heard so much about you. I really do hope to see you joining our ranks someday," I say politely. I stick out my hand this time, and he takes it, a bit awe-struck. "Well, you know what they say," he says. He holds my hand as I look at him, expecting something. I quirk my eyebrow up. "What? What do they say?" A beat of silence.
"I have no idea."
I stare at him for a moment. Gwen didn't tell me this kid was so dorky. The again, all the Spider-People come from dorky backgrounds. I nod slowly, my hand retracting from his as I put it to my chest. "Great..." I trail off. I shake my head, and I look at Gwen again.
"I was actually just about to go see him, he hasn't had lunch, and I grabbed him an empanada, he usually goes nuts for them," I giggle, holding up the small container in my hand, which was long-forgotten while Ben shared his deepest, darkest corners of his soul. Again.
Miles lights up at the sight of the empanada.
"My grandma used to make those! Fueron los mejores (They were the best)," he beams, putting his hand on is hips, his chest expanding with pride. He bumps his shoulder intp Gwen's, who looks like she wants to crawl into a hole at this moment. I watch with endearment. It is endearing, how he gets all excited. I was the same way learning Spanish, wanting to expand my knowledge for Miguel. I wait for a moment for him to explain himself, my lips quirked up in a small smile.
"See? I know Spanglish," he chuckles, clearly getting prouder of himself. I smile widely.
"Que maravilla (wonderful)," I respond. His face drops, and he looks down, rocking on his feet, his voice growing quiet. I chuckle. "Oh...I see you...know..." "If you don't mind, Miles," Gwen says through gritted teeth. She looks back at me, her smile still strained. "We're going to keep moving along."
I shrug.
"I'll come with, give Miguel his empanada." I walk over to Miles, putting my arm around his shoulder. This throws him off, his eyes growing wide. He glances to the side, then back at me, not knowing what to do. I point to his chest with the empanada-hand. "También me encantaría escuchar más de su español (I'd also love to hear more of his Spanish)," I grin.
✮•
"Oi, there's the little child-bearer," Hobie announces as he gets up from his spot, walking over. He goes to put an arm around me, but I dodge, smacking it away. "Call me that again and I will give you something much, much more painful than giving birth," I growl. He doesn't even looked shocked, he loves riling people up. He pats my head, and walks a bit ahead of us. I scoff at his back, his guitar hanging so loosley off of it it makes me wonder how it's even managed to stay on for that long. I glance over my shoulder at Miles, who still walks a bit behind the rest of us. I slow down my pace, and when we're at the same speed, I whisper to him.
"You okay, kid?" His shoulders tense at that name, so I put my hands up in retreat. "Sorry, I wasn't the biggest fan of it either at your age," I chuckle. He glance at me, trying to find the amusement, but his laugh just comes out....dead. I sigh.
"Listen, Miles, I don't know what happened before you got here. I frankly, maybe I don't want to know. But just know it's nothing we can't fix, alright?" I mumble, bumping my shoulder with his for some light encouragement. He smiles just a tiny bit, his hand coming up to rub the shoulder I bumped bashfully. "Yeah...thanks."
I watch as he walks a bit ahead of me, and I watch as he looks at Gwen with...almost a longing gaze. A bit sad, too. I frown. I know how rough this kid has had it, Gwen's told me, and sometimes I would see him come up in the feed occasionally when I would cover for Miguel, giving him some much-needed rest time. I watched just as I did now, a frown etched on my face, wanting to reach out and tell him that this job does get better, but he wouldn't know I was watching. He still doesn't know I'm watching as we walk through the doors and into my husband's office. I fall into line with the teens, and look up at my husband and his beloved platform. Going down. Slowly. Inch by inch.
I groan inwardly.
This thing again.
I remember my first day here, I thought it was the most terrifying thing, seeing his broad back, all hunched over menacingly over the screens. Then, his mask came down, and I couldn't focus the entire time he was explaining everything to me, I was too focused on his face.
He claims he didn't know what I was doing, but I know that he was just as distracted as I was.
Miles glances at Gwen, and she shakes her head, indicating him not to talk. "I know, it's slow," she says. Miles still looks confused, and he looks over her shoulders and at me. I wave my hand in the air dismissevly. "It's his thing," I mumble under my breath, so Miguel can't hear us. God forbid we ruin his whole macho-'I'm so menacing,' act.
"Miguel O'Hara, meet, Miles Morales!" Gwen announces. No response.
"Ay, ¿Qué tal, tío? (Hey, what's up, dude?)" Miles smiles. "Yeah, I speak Spanish," he announces in front of me for the second time today.
I heave out a sigh, letting my head roll to the front. I look up again, and when I speak, my voice comes out in a shout. I have no idea what he can or can't hear from his mountain hideout.
"Amor, lo entendemos, puedes dominarnos. ¿Apuremos esto, por favor? (Love, we get it, you can overpower us. Let's hurry this up, please?)"
He grumbles something in Spanish, but I can't catch it. He spins around, shooting me a glare. "Glad to see you've met my wife," he says to Miles after giving me a hard look. Miles looks between me and my husband, his eyes scrunched together. He doesn't dare speak yet, however. Miguel smiles angrily, baring his fangs. "Something I had, like most things here now, no control over. Funny, considering I run this place!" His voice gets louder and a bit more sharp as he continues talking, and his hands come to his hips. I roll my eyes, making a sound of annoyance. I heave out a sigh. Miles steps forward, his hands moving while he speaks.
"Listen, man, I'm really excited to get going, I got some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot. You know, he just wants to be taken seriously-"
"Oh! Great. Uh-huh, uh-huh," my husband mumbles with a small, pestered smirk as Miles speaks. He lets out a very loud, very agressive roar as he hurls a piece of technology at Miles. Gwen and I both shout with shock, jumping out of the way, and Miles covers his head. Miguel doesn't even stop to consider what he did.
"You were worried about Spot, I'll worry about Spot!" he continues to yell at Miles. Miles is shaking, his eyes bulging with fear at him.
Gwen looks violated, and a bit worried for her friend. "Miguel! It's not his fault!" Miles agrees with her, nodding repeatedly.
"It was his fault, he blew another hole in the multiverse!"
"He didn't know any better!" Gwen shoots back. Miles doesn't quite know what to say, standing there awkardly, as if he and his friends' mom are fighting.
I step forward now, my head lowering as the platforms still moves slowly down.
"Miguel, think about throwing wires at someone! He was just tryng to do what Spider-Man does!" I try to rationalize. His head looks sharply to me, his eyes glowing red. It doesn't faze me, however. I've been on the receiving end of that look a few times, so I'm used to it. "Y/N, you're supposed to be on maternity leave!" He shouts. He holds up a hand, holding in a breath.
"Just...nevermind. You all knew what the risk here was! Gwen! You did! And you-!" Miguel looks to Hobie, pointing at him. Hobie is sliding down a metal arch, head first, on his back, just...enjoying life. As if this is really just his entertainment he threw together. Miguel sighs. "I was gonna try to ignore you," he pauses, before looking away again. "I can't, I just can't-"
"I ain't even here," Hobie mumbles in his thick accent. Miguel shakes his head, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head as he walks a bit down the platform. I glance towards Gwen, who is already looking at me, silently begging me to say something, anything to try and calm my husband down. I sigh.
"Miguel, darling," I begin. Hobie groans.
"You know, just as a heads up, how married are you two gonna be today? Because I'm debating whether or not to sit here through all the pet names," he says, very annoyed, as he gets up from his seat, walking over to me and putting his arm on my head. He looks down at me, expecting an answer. I let a glare linger on him, and I look back at Miguel.
Miguel turns around again, his gaze boring into my eyes. "You fixed the whole catastrophe on Earth 199999, we can fix this. Don't go so hard on the kid!" I exclaim, gesturing towards Miles. He puts one hand on his hip, and another up to drag across his face, stretching it out.
"No, no, Y/N. He blew another hole in the multiverse! And that little...nerd and Doctor Strange fixed it. Not me! I'm just there to clean up stuff they don't know about so their lives can continue on, all happy and perfect!"
We all stay silent. Hobie lets out a low whistle, and Lyla appears on my shoulder. "I think he's projecting again," she whispers in my ear.
Miguel gestures for me to come over, once his platform has hit the ground, and I sigh, walking over.
"Can you just-just take my side on this? You've seen what these things can do," he murmurs lowly.
"Frankly, I think you should go lighter on him. He hasn't been here for more than 10 minutes, this is all very new. Quit yelling!"
"Uh-oh, mommy and daddy are fighting!" We hear a different, slightly older voice calling.
Hobie calls out. "Oh boy! Humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived!"
Miguel's whole body tenses, and his eyes shut with annoyance and anger. I turn to the door, and in walks Peter B. Parker. The man who practically trained Miles, and the man who thinks he's Miguel's best friend.
He walks in wearing a pink robe over his spider suit, and a baby carrier, but, no baby. He chuckles, a warm smile on his face. "Besides, Y/N's right, don't be so hard on the kid. He had a terrible teacher! He had no chance!"
"Peter!" Miles bounds over to him, giving him a big hug. Peter chuckles, patting his head. "Hey, kid! Don't mind my friend Miguel here, he looks scary but he's got no bite!"
Miguel growls, turning his back towards everyone, mumbling some curses, followed by Peter's name. Peter then makes eye contact with me. "Y/N! You're getting so big!" Miguel turns his head around sharply, his eyes glowing and his fangs baring with rage at his comment.
He winces immediatley. "Forget I said that."
Miles begins to ask him a string of questions, but his eyes travel down to the baby carrier. "Wait-what's is that? You have a baby!" He asks, pointing to it. Peter pats the carrier proudly.
"I have a baby!" He exclaims, mimicking Miles' excitement. At that perfect moment, Mayday crawls down from the ceiling, cooing. I get happy instantly, and she sees me, and squeals. She begins crawling on the walls, cooing and talking to herself in a string of babbles as I wave towards her, beckoning her over.
"Kid's an anarchist," Hobie mutters to himself. I frown at him, but I can't help but feel a bit of amusement at this.
"Don't forget to keep your daypass on, honey!" He calls out. He chuckles, and he begins to climb up the wall too, calling out to his child. Miguel shakes his head, letting his head rest in his hand, muttering "no puedo más," in a low, stressed voice. I put a hand on his back.
"Sólo aligerar (just lighten up), it's a baby, amor."
"¡No voy a entrar en esto ahora mismo! (I am not getting into this right now!)" He hisses, I hold my hands next to my head, signalling fake surrender, and turn back to father and daughter.
Peter laughs, reaching out for Mayday, but she swings away with her own webshooters. She swings next to me, landing on one of the consoles, and I pick her up, nuzzling my nose against hers.
"I knew I was gonna regret making her that webshooter, I shouldn't have done it, that's an actual mistake." Peter hops down, watching me as I play with Mayday. She reaches out to Miguel, and I put her on his shoulder. Besides, I'm not supposed to be carrying anything heavier than 20 pounds. Miguel just stares ahead. Peter perks up again, taking out his phone. "You guys wanna see pictures?"
He runs over to Miles and Gwen, putting his arms around their shoulders.
"Are-are you sure? She's right there..." Gwen trails off when Peter turns on his phone. "This one is the studious one, and-and, oh! The next one you're gonna crack up! Oh-oh, Miguel's gonna die" He laughs. I beam at him. He seems so proud and such a loving father. I put a hand over my pregnant belly.
Peter runs over to Miguel, showing him pictures. "You know I'm trying to hold a serious, adult conversation here," Miguel says quietly as he tries to keep staring ahead. Mayday crawls all over him, sometimes hitting him gently. Peter groans.
"You know, you're the only Spider-Man who isn't funny, we're supposed to be funny!"
"The fate of the multi-verse-"
"You always lose me with that!. You say "the fate of the multiverse," and my brain dies!" He exclaims. Mayday rolls on Miguel's shoulder, sqeualing when she falls. Miguel catches her, holding her like a....football. I roll my eyes. "Será mejor que no seas así cuando tenga a tus hijos (you better not be like this when I have your children)," I say to him. He shakes his head, his eyes wide with shock and offense. "Wha-I-no! I'm just not the biggest fan of the Parkers! Sabes que puedo ser muy amoroso cuando él no está aquí para molestarme, ¿verdad, mi amor? (you do know I can be very loving when he isn't here to annoy me, right my love?)" He says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice to a level so that only I could hear it. I put my hands on my hips, giving him a 'then show it,' look. Peter puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.
"Wow, you truly hurt me. And Mayday. You want a baby's feelings being hurt on your conscience?" He stops, and sniffs the air, then looks at Mayday. "You smell that guys? Mayday took a crap. She's a Parker!" He calls out, taking her from Miguel and walking towards where he came in. "That's what hapens when a Parker eats an avocado..."
Miguel sighs, walking over to me and putting his forehead on the top of my head defeatedly, shutting his eyes. He's exhausted, I know that, and our height difference allows us some very interesting advantages. I reach around his neck and pat his head like a little kid as I watch Hobie pick Mayday up, saluting her.
Miguel straightens again, stepping away from me. He addresses Miles again, this timecalmer, but he's still annoyed. With everyone around him. Well, not me. I smirk. He could never be too annoyed with me.
"Miles," he begins, putting his hands on his hips. "You disrupted a canon event.
"Canon event?" Miles asks, but before Miguel can explain, Peter B. pops up again, a full spider web now formed as Mayday crawls and bounces on it.
"The kid wasn't thinking. That's not how he works!"
"That's insulting."
Miles takes a few steps to the right, looking at the ground thinking. "Wait," he looks bakc up at Miguel. Miguel raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "What are you upset about, I saved those people!"
Miguel fully steps off his platform. I give him a look, silently shushing him.
I take a step towards Miles, putting a hand on his shoulder, looking at him. "That, unfortunatley, is the problem here," I sigh, looking at him, implying an apology with my tone. Confusion is etched onto his face, and I can't blame him.
"Lyla," Miguel calls out. The hologram appears. "Do the thing."
"The thing?" I ask. Lyla smirks. "What thing?" She continues for me.
"What do you mean, what thing? The information explain-y thing!"
I scoff, taking my hand off of Miles' shoulder. "You're sounding like a mob boss, sweetie. We're not that kind of powerful," I tease, poking him in the side. Lyla laughs, but pulls up the vast, complicated web of canon events, similarities, and differences of all the Spider-People.
"Woah."
Miles steps forward, turning in a circle around himself, oogling at the intricate design.
"What's this?" He breathes out.
"This, is everything."
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Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2k words, part 1)
Summary: Inspired by one of my headcanons for Valeria. Valeria has gifted you a whole wing in her massive residence in Las Almas. Alejandro infiltrates the mansion to gather intel and finds you, Valeria's girlfriend. You are kidnapped by Alejandro and interrogated by the 141 on Valeria and her whereabouts. Got a bit carried away and will make a part 2! Link to fanfic on A03
Notes: Sorry for butchering Mexican Spanish, I Google-translated everything! Also tagging @lesvii in case u wanted to read it! TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Alejandro, threat of violence.
It was another beautiful night for you at the rich luxurious mansion of your girlfriend Valeria Garza, the infamous cartel mogul of Las Almas and Latin America. In the lowest basements of the estate sat enemies, tied on their chairs and ruthlessly interrogated by Valeria's henchmen. Blood stains littered the floor, the moans of these victims muffled by the layers of concrete that stood between them and the world above the surface. And much further above, on a secluded and spoiled part of the estate, you stretched lazily on a golden bathtub filled with hot water and bubbles, feeling the dolphin-shaped taps that winked at you with diamond eyes as you played around with the water. Your bathroom was filled with the scent of lavender and honey and you enjoyed another night of hard-earned relaxation. It wasn't easy being this loved and spoiled, but someone had to do it! Sure, Valeria had a prominently dark side that demanded constant attention, and could be a handful to love. Valeria needed three warm homemade meals every day, love each morning and night and a massage break during her siesta, and you met all of her wishes. In return, Valeria loved you hard and expensively.
Today was an especially tough day because Valeria needed to leave for a business trip.
"It's just three days, okay mi amor? I'll be back before you know it," she fussed over you at her doorstep, one of the few times she'd let you be seen by her henchmen. Ever since you were moved into Valeria's residence, she had scarcely left your side. And now here she was, needing to leave for some kind of business meeting that she refused to elaborate on. You knew it must've been important because you would hear various personnel discuss it carelessly when they thought you weren't listening from your balcony. And it must've been very important if it meant keeping her away from you for days. "But what about morning cuddles?" You sulked and held on to her shirt with the tip of your fingers. It was a bit self-indulgent and dramatic, but you really were going to miss her, and Valeria loved to feel needed anyway, so such pathetic displays were more than welcome. "I'll call you whenever I can, okay? Now give me a kiss."
And that's how you ended up having to amuse yourself for several days.
And that's when Alejandro decided to infiltrate the Las Almas residence.
You were soaking in the warm water, completely oblivious to the fact that your girlfriend's ex-lover was eyeing the residence for a vulnerable entry point. As you lathered your body in oils and creams, he was butchering the guards and dumping their bodies behind the bushes. As you sat on your Queen sized bed ready to rest for the night, he stood behind the door, listening. Alejandro had guessed that this must be Valeria's private area of the mansion because it was significantly nicer than the rest, and that said something. Whereas the rest of the mansion looked like it came from a luxury housekeeping catalogue, this part was more...personal. It had a personal touch to it, a woman's touch. And he knew Valeria had no interest in interior decoration. He passed hallways with floral and sensual pieces of art, past vases with carefully arranged flowers that probably had a deeper significance than he realised. Past a fully stocked kitchen with something freshly cooked on the stove, past a well-used sitting area decorated with pictures of two women smiling at the camera. Jealousy tugged at his heart at these displays of domesticity. He pulled a spy cam cord from his pocket and slid it underneath the door. And there on the bed, amid fluffy cushions and blankets, sat you.
And he remembered exactly who you were.
"Hermano, all good in there?" Soap's voice came through in his earpiece, jolting Alejandro from his revenge fantasy. "Si, be out in five," he whispered and pulled the camera back. It'd be more efficient to knock on the door and wait to take you with chloroform, but he could bet on his life that you were not part of the cartel. This was very much a regular civilian woman, a little trophy wife. And trophy wives can't fight off military personnel. Alejandro rammed through the door and lunged for you before you even had a moment to turn around. Having tucked yourself in your blankets, you had no time to even get up before this strange man put his hands on you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Strange men with various insignias on their uniforms paced around the residence as you were pushed forward and towards the garden. The man was with Mexican Special Forces, that much you could tell. He laughed darkly and tightened his grip on you. "So, big El Sinobre left you behind, eh? Not so big and scary now, are we?" To your horror and surprise, a helicopter was lowering itself to the ground and shone a bright light on you, like you were a criminal. You wanted to protest that you hadn't actually done anything, but you were guilty by association. Another man leaned out of the helicopter and extended his arm to grab you. "That don't look like cartel to me, brother," a slightly Southern American accent decorated his speech as he grabbed your elbow and chucked you in. The Mexican man followed you along with some others. "She's the next best thing after Valeria, trust me. She'll come running to us in no time."
"Hermano, you sure about this? There are different rules for civilians." Another man spoke, a man with a mohawk and the Union Jack flag on his vest. The helicopter started raising itself off the ground and took off to God knows where. You were in your pyjamas still, feeling silly and vulnerable, too afraid to say anything. Valeria always warned people to stay quiet in front of enemies, and you couldn't be blamed for anything you hadn't said. "I'm positive, Hermano. I know how she works. We take something from her, and she'll come looking." The man sat right across from you, his eyes never leaving you. He was tall and dark, around Valeria's age you'd guess, maybe older. There was a menacing look in his eyes, as though he couldn't stand to look at you, yet his dark eyes never left yours. There was something else lurking underneath that you couldn't put your finger on. It was almost like hatred, though you couldn't understand why he'd hate you personally - you'd never seen him before. And yet he spoke of Valeria with such familiarity...it chilled you.
Next thing you knew, you were in some headquarters. Masses of soldiers marched to and from the facility, taking the time to glance your way as the men brought you to one of the warehouses. Amidst the uniformed men with pounds of kit on themselves, you felt naked. Within the warehouse was a metal container that, to your horror, seemed to be your new resting place. You were thrown on a chair and the container sealed shut after them. "She's being surprisingly cooperative so far," the man with the skull mask grumbled as he leaned back with his arms crossed. "Either that or poor thing doesn't speak English," said the American.
"I can speak English," you whispered and nodded to them, the first thing you said so far. "Perfecto." The American clapped his hands and walked towards you. He lowered himself to your level and brought his face menacingly close to yours, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Now, we can do this the nice way. Or we can do this the army way. What will it be, sweetheart?" He stared you down with his blue eyes and you noticed the scar on his cheek; a clean slice on his combat-hardened face. You swallowed hard. "The nice way." He grinned with satisfaction and raised himself. "That's what I like to hear."
The man who kidnapped you stepped forward, towering over you and not bothering to lower himself like the American. "Where's Valeria?" He spat her name out like poison and your heart sank. "I don't kn-," you'd started saying but stopped when you saw how his eyes darkened. "She doesn't tell me anything. She keeps her business separate from me." "And who exactly are you?" The masked man spoke, his deep voice reverberating within the container. The Mexican man scoffed and paced around mumbling to himself. "This should be good." "Alejandro, please." Another man scolded in a whisper. Alejandro glared at him and shook his head, then looked at you with a deep frown that contorted an otherwise handsome face. His eyes, you realised, were looking at your fingers, one of which wore a thick golden band.
"I'm her partner." You resisted the urge to play with your ring, afraid of making any move in front of them. The American laughed loudly, making you jolt in your seat. "A cartel run by a lesbian, eh? Man, I love my job." "She's not a lesbian," Alejandro snapped quickly. The American stood up taller. "My friend, I think you need to cool off." "¡Anímate y díselo!" He yelled at you. "Alright, now hold on. How do you two know each other?" The American demanded as he pointed to you and Alejandro. "I don't know him," you mumbled and shook your head. "Mierda! You know perfectly well who I am." He exploded again. The man with the mohawk and the other Mexican man looked at you wearily, moving a little bit closer to you in light of Alejandro's outbursts. "I'm sorry, I really don't," you said with a wavering voice. That seemed to really set him off. Alejandro charged at you while swearing. "Vete al infierno hija de puta-"
The two men reached forward and drew him away from you. "Alejandro-" "Calm down, Commander." He shook them off then span around and looked at you again, his firsts curled on the handles of his vest. "Okay, go on. Speak." "I already told you she doesn't tell me anything! She doesn't want me to be involved and she doesn't tell me where she goes. I just take care of the house and that's it. And she'll be mighty pissed when she sees I'm gone." You threw your words at him.
"And now, you," the American pointed at Alejandro. "Valeria served in the Mexican Army, same unit but different squads. Until she betrayed us for the cartel. That's how I know her."
Suddenly, you realised who he was. You'd heard whispers about him amongst Valeria's friends. She would frequently be teased about 'moving camps' and being a heartbreaker. One of them even joked about how you were a homewrecking housewife. Valeria made sure you didn't see those people again. You thought it was all part of a big joke, until now. That part of her past, you guessed, must be him.
The American looked at you and you nodded. "Yes, she did that when we first met. But I don't know anything specific, she didn't tell me." The man who called Alejandro 'commander' looked at you closely and he, too, seemed familiar. He was also part of the Mexican Special Forces and seemed to be paired up with Alejandro. He had large, round brown eyes that were not unkind. He spoke up: "I remember her too. Valeria and she met just a bit before Valeria left the Mexican Army." The American looked at you with disdain after that, and the other man continued. "But she's not lying about not knowing Alejandro. Valeria kept her out of our business." You looked at him with relief and he looked away.
"Well we just pulled a heck of an operation to weed this one out, and we're not leaving until we get some answers," said the American man. "And I don't believe for a second that you're entirely clueless. Now you can either start singing or I'm gonna show you the difference between the military and me."
Notes: Thanks for reading! Link to part 2 :> Link to part 3
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allysunny · 7 months
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Can you do a Miguel x spoil pregnant wife. Ever since he found out about the pregnancy he's been overprotective and making sure his wife is spoiled and happy 😁
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Catering to You ! Miguel x Pregnant Fem!Reader
Words: 3.0k
Warnings: Fluff! Tooth-rotting sweetness, truly! But in the end there's a bit of NSFW (it has a warning before!) Spanish translations are at the end, as always!
A/N: Hello!! I'm honestly so in love with this idea because we all know Miguel would be the most amazing husband, and would break his back doing everything he could to spoil his pregnant wife. I loved writing this!
Also, a small warning before you read, I got a little carried away and wrote a small NSFW section at the end. I know I said I wouldn't write it, and I also know that you did not request it, so I'm going to add that after a warning, and you're free to not read that part! It does not ruin the flow of the fic, nor add anything else, it's just that I personally felt like writing it, and you don't need to read it if you don't want to!!!
But for those who do read that - please be kind! It's my first every writing anything smut related, so please don't judge too harshly!
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No because we all know this man would be soooo protective!
When you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon. Went the whole nine yards, got down on his knees, kissed your stomach, lifted you off your feet and spun you around in the air, professed his undying love for you over and over again until you were both crying, and you could not tell where his tears began and your ended.
And from that moment on, you never lifted a finger ever again.
The End!
I’m joking – but seriously, he would be adamant in not letting you lift a finger.
No more chores for you.
“Miguel, I’m pregnant, not disabled!” You’d try to reason with him, but he’d just mock your pout and kiss your forehead.
“Sorry, mi amor. But I can’t allow it.” Then, he’d be peppering your face with kisses until you had no choice but to relent.
One time, he caught you cleaning the floors and he wasn’t happy.
“How many times do I have to tell you, chiquita, you don’t have to do anything. Just sit there and relax your pretty self, ¿si? Can’t have you making any efforts, our baby needs to rest.” He would say, picking you up and setting you down on your couch.
Don’t worry, after a few weeks of pleading and telling him you’d be careful, he would give in. I mean, how could he not, when you were looking so gorgeous in front of him, glowing, even? He would do anything to make you happy, and if doing a couple of easy enough chores around the house keeps a smile on your face, he’d be damned if he didn’t agree.
Once your pregnant belly started to show, he was in cloud nine.
You want to tell me that he gets to look at you – everyone gets to look at you and immediately know that you belonged to him? That the life growing inside of you was his child? It made him feral.
Everywhere you guys went, he’d be there, proudly showing you off. Smiling gratefully as old women on the street complimented your looks, giving his own two cents on why your beauty is timeless, and how you seem to get more gorgeous with each day that passes.
When you start worrying about your weight, he makes sure to remind you that he is crazy about you, and that you are stunning. He’ll run his hands over the skin of your thighs, fingertips silently promising what words cannot express, while his lips are pressed against your neck, whispering praises in your name.
“How could you even think that?” He would ask, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss. “You’re so gorgeous, mi amor. You’re carrying our child inside of you, that is… coño, that is miraculous. Have you thought about it? You and I created a child. Your body is nursing a life. That is beautiful.” And then he’d be kissing you and you would forget why you were upset in the first place.
Miguel would be the most attentive husband, for sure.
The moment he saw you uncomfortable, or in pain, he’d be all over you, asking if there was anything he could do to help soothe your pain. You know when husbands hold onto their wife’s bellies to carry their weight and help them relax? Miguel would do that; he would just stop anything he was doing to walk over to you and carry the weight of your belly.
When your feet were swollen and hurt, he’d guide you to the couch, place your pretty legs over his lap and massage your feet to provide some relief. He’d even go as far as applying some oils and creams, to make the experience extra nice.
“My princesa deserves the best,” Would be his reasoning.
And don’t get me started on your cravings.
You’d been fidgeting on the couch for a few minutes now. Looking at the tv, immersed in your silly show, but visibly uncomfortable. You’d sigh and hum to yourself, casting weary glances at Miguel. These silly pregnancy cravings would be the death of you, but even though Miguel had always been a very doting husband, you didn’t want to bother him any further.
However, nothing could go unnoticed by this man. He had been observing you for a while, eyeing you curiously. What was on your mind?
He could let this silly game go on for a while longer, but the urge to aid you was way stronger; he couldn’t help himself, he had to make sure all was okay.
“Is everything alright, cariño?” In a heartbeat, he was sitting next to you on the couch, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach.
“Yeah, mhm,” You’d try to lie, but who were you trying to fool? Miguel knew you like the back of his hand, he knew when something was amiss. You couldn’t lie to him, not like this.
“Are you sure? You look awfully uncomfortable. Come on, tell me. ¿Qué pasa?” With soft caresses and a velvet-like voice, Miguel knew exactly how to coax an answer out of you.
You looked away for a few moments, slightly embarrassed. Miguel wouldn’t shame you, absolutely not. And he wouldn’t get upset – that’s out of the question. Ever since the beginning of your pregnancy, he’s been the poster child of “helpful”. So when you mumble that you need his help, he nods dutifully and places a soft finger on your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“Hey, it’s alright. You know I’m here for you. What’s wrong?” He would ask, kindness and devotion spilling from his eyes. You saw all of the love this man had for your small family right in this little moment.
“I… I’m…”
“¿Si?”
“I… I’m really craving pickles and strawberry jam!” You blurted out, relief washing over you. It felt so nice to say you. You really wanted pickles and strawberry jam – no. You needed pickles and strawberry jam. You were positive you were going to die if you didn’t get your hands on both things right this moment.
Miguel stared at you comically, stifling a chuckle.
“Pickles and strawberry jam?” He repeated, hand leaving your chin to rest on your stomach again.
“Shit – Miggy, I will love you forever; but please get me some pickles and strawberry jam! I would kill for a sandwich of pickles and jam, I will kill for a sandwich of pickles and jam!” You kept babbling about this odd combination, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please, please, please, I’m begging you, my love.”
And he couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were looking so pretty, bottom lip jutting out in the most adorable pout, eyes wide and hands on top of his. Miguel kissed your forehead, lips still forming a teasing smile.
“I’ll be right back.”
In around 20 minutes, you were happily sitting on your couch with a tray in front of you. Jars of pickles (that your husband lovingly opened for you after you begged him) and of strawberry jam (that your husband also opened, because you just looked so adorable when you pouted) were on top of it, slices of bread stacked on top of a plate as you happily created what to Miguel was the most monstrous sandwich he’d ever seen.
But you looked so content, that could brush aside the fact this meal looked like an abomination.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you Miggy! This is delicious!” You chirped, fingers covered in jam and mouth full.
It wasn’t the only time Miguel had to help soothe your weird taste in food, no doubt caused by those pesky pregnancy hormones.
“Miggy, would you bring me that nice tomato soup you make and the gummy bears?”
“Honey, I’m really craving some spaghetti right now – but not with the tomato sauce, will you please bring me the chocolate topping?”
“Do we have any sardines? I wanna dip them in whipped cream so badly…”
“Oh darling, I would just die for a few nachos with cream cheese. Will you get them for me? Please?”
Upon hearing these strange requests, Miguel would just laugh and happily oblige. He understood your body was going through a million things at the moment, and the least he could do was try to make this pregnancy easier on you. Even if it meant gathering the most eccentric of ingredients to cook what in his humble opinion could be considered ghastly.
But once again, it made you smile. You looked so happy, and you were glowing, and there was nothing Miguel wouldn’t do for you.
Speaking of hormones, we need to address your mood swings.
Miguel considers himself a rather stable person. He’s able to maintain a professional front at HQ, and keep his emotions out of his job, and stay calm – most of the times.
Which is why seeing you go through a flurry of different emotions in the span of a few hours threw him off guard the first time it happened.
One day, while you happily sat on your balcony while reading a book, you spotted a bluebird nest, which fascinated you. You watched them contentedly, the mother bird feeding her children, chirping, and nuzzling against their feathers.
It was a lovely sight.
And then, Miguel, who by then had been doing the dishes, was startled by the sound of your sobs. He rushed to the balcony to find you hiding your face in your hands, wailing loudly – and because of what, he had no idea.
“Cariño, what’s wrong?” He tried prying your hands away, but to no avail. You kept hiding from the world.
In between choked sobs, you managed to speak a few broken words.
“T-The bird! He, he c-can’t fly!” You cried even louder, pressing squeezing your face tightly against his chest.
“¿Perdón?” He was dumbfounded. The bird? What bird? And what did you mean, he couldn’t fly? “Darling, I can’t understand what you mean. Will you please look at me?”
It’s okay. He’s patient.
Slowly, you look up towards him, and the sheer confusion mixed with patience and devotion just made you bawl even louder. Now Miguel was getting worried. What had gotten into you?
“Take your time, honey. But please, do tell me what is wrong. How can I help?”
You sniffled a few times, wiping your tears on the sleeve of your shirt.
“T-The bird!”  You pointed to the nest and Miguel followed your finger. That’s when he spotted the little family of birds that graced your balcony. “H-He can’t fly! The ba-baby bird is s-struggling to fly!”
Okay, so.
Is Miguel an understanding person? Towards you, always.
Does he love you unconditionally and would never make fun of you in a way that would hurt your feelings? Never. That’s out of the question.
Is he amused by the situation unfolding in front of him? Very much.
In fact, it takes every bone in his body not to hunch over himself laughing.
It doesn’t work out entirely.
Miguel hugs you against him, chuckling tenderly.
“Oh, mi amor… It’s only natural. It’s a part of nature, that little bird will eventually learn how to fly.” He says in a gentle voice, catching your hand in his and caressing it.
“B-But he can’t fly now!” You wept, shaking your head. In your emotional state, the sight of a baby bluebird struggling to lift its wings and fly was heartbreaking. How could mother nature be so cruel?
“But he will learn. His mother will teach him, and he will learn, and one day, he’s going to be the most graceful bird, flying in the skies of Nueva York.” When he finished talking, you looked up at him, eyes wide with wonder. How beautifully they sparkled in the afternoon sun.
“He will?”
“Sí, cariño. He will.” Miguel dipped down to catch your lips in a tender kiss. You kissed him just as delicately, trailing your hand up to his jaw. Your fingerprints left a pathway of sparkles and magic in their wake, making Miguel wish he would never let go.
These emotional outbursts happened at the most random times.
One day, you spotted a heart-shaped stone on the pavement and teared up. That moment, you turned to your husband and hugged him tightly, proclaiming your love for him, and appreciating all he did for you. In return, Miguel kissed you on the tip of your nose, softly, as if you’d break were he to apply more pression and vowed to love you eternally.
Sometimes, you’d burst out laughing at the silliest things.
While watching a movie, the lead character uttered the word “butt”.
For a few 30 minutes, you’d laughed and laughed and laughed, swearing you’d never heard anything as funny as the word “butt” being spoken by the actor on the screen.
When you got angry, you got angry.
Someone littered on the street? Miguel would have to hold you back from following the person and lecturing their brains out. You’d always been quite feisty, but this pregnancy brought out the fearlessness in you even more.
And let’s not forget that time when a woman tried to flirt with your husband at the supermarket, while you had gone to fetch some of your most recent craving (ketchup and watermelon). The audacity! The woman giggled and twirled her hair, while Miguel tried to politely reject her advances.
When the woman reached out to touch his arm (an action that made Miguel frown and take a step back), you figured that was the last straw. You knew Miguel to be faithful – he’d never dare to cheat on you, not even in his dreams. Your love was the kind of love seen in movies, in fairytales – everlasting and true.
Before your husband could say a word, you stepped right in front of you.
“Do you want anything?” 
You didn’t care about coming off as rude, all you cared about was putting this cheeky woman in her place.
“Yes, I was just – I was speaking with this man right here. Is there a problem?” She asked, crossing her arms.
“Considering this man right here is married to me,” You lifted your left hand, giving the woman a glance of your wedding ring. “And definitely not interested, I would say that, yes, there is a problem. So if you could just turn around and leave him alone, since he’s clearly not interested, that would be very much appreciated.”
The woman gawked at you, mouth agape. She looked like a fish!, you later commented with your husband. She even tried opening and closing her mouth a few times, but to no avail. She was truly speechless.
So, you held onto your husband’s arm (who by now was shamelessly snickering) and left.
Miguel could clearly see you were fuming! You kept going on and on about how shameless the woman was, how you could definitely take her on a fight if you weren’t pregnant, how he was too handsome and shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house because men and women everywhere drooled at the sight of him –
It was endearing, to say the least. Sure, he liked to protect you and make sure everyone knew you were irrevocably his, but he would be lying if he said his gorgeous wife being overprotective of him wasn’t a sight that made his heart skip (and his pants tighten. As soon as you two got home, he was all over you).
Your anger could be triggered by anything – a broken plate, someone chewing too loud, people running on the street, etc.
You were like a ticking bomb!
But to Miguel, all of that made your pregnancy much more special.
It made his chest swell to know he was the one you went to when you craved something, when you were feeling sad, or when your anger boiled. It made him incredibly happy to know he was the one you trusted, and that he was able to share these precious moments with you.
Overall, Miguel would be the bestest, most amazing, most caring, most fantastic husband ever. He would dote on you 25/8, always making sure you felt comfortable and happy. And he would be oh so proud and happy to be by your side, so thankful the world granted him a chance to have a family, a real family, to love and cherish forever. He would fantasize about your future child with you, when it was late at night and the world was sleeping and promise you both the world.
Because let’s be honest, Miguel would do anything – and I mean anything for his family.
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NSFW Section Ahead - Read at your own risk!
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This man would become even more obsessed with you and your body.
You were rounder, plumper, thicker, and while sometimes it made you self-conscious at times, to him, it just meant he had more of you to love. You looked so… So his. Every time he looked at you, he’d be driven by this primal urge to have you.
The mere sight of you made him drool, no matter where you were or what you were doing. Making dinner? He was hugging you from behind, hands creeping underneath your shirt to caress your swollen breasts.
Watching tv? He was by your side, grabbing handfuls of your thighs and kissing your breath away.
When you attended early parenthood classes, he couldn’t help but stare at you throughout most of the lesson, picturing how pretty you would look on top of him, a moaning and writhing mess.
He would have you reclined, propped up on multiple pillows and pregnancy cushions in order not to strain your back and cause any pain or discomfort for you or the baby, legs spread as he eagerly lapped at your folds. Your hands would be on his hair, tugging, pushing and pulling and you mumbled incoherent sentences.
“Miggy, ‘s too much…” You’d babble mindlessly, sweat sticking to your forehead. He’d just rewarded you your… fourth? Fifth? Orgasm of the night, and you were sure he wasn’t intent on stopping.
“Shh, cariño, don’t worry,” Would be his response, muffled by the obscene sounds he made while he soothed your aching heat with his fingers. “Just one more, ¿si? One more f’me bonita, I know you can take it, please, you’re so good f’me… Is that okay? Will you let me?” And then he would look at you with those lust-blown eyes…
How could you deny him, when he treated you so well?
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Spanish Translations
Chiquita - It's an endearment term, like "cutie", little one, little lady, etc ¿Si? - Yes? Mi amor - My love Coño - Shit, or fuck Cariño - Dear, sweetheart, it's an endearment term as well ¿Qué pasa? - What's wrong? ¿Perdón? - Excuse me?
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A/N: I hope you liked it! Again, I'm really sorry for adding the NSFW part when you did not request it. I hope you don't mind that I did it - it just felt very natural to show this side of Miguel with a pregnant reader. I'm sure that he would be very intent on showing his love and appreciation physically as well as verbally! <3
Thank you for the amazing request! Have a nice day! :)
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wethairjoel · 1 year
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empty promises
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summary: javier peña x fem!reader (kinda platonic but also fwb). a day filled with joy,and excitement made everyone in the office hit the closest bar. The mix of beer and liquor made you and javier peña forget about ethics for a night. word count: 5,7 k
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. no use of yn. unprotected sex (it's the 80s, this is fiction. wrap it irl please), fingering, multiple orgasms. alcohol consumption, driving under the influence. swearing. smoking. use of spanish words (the translations can be found at the end). events are not accurate to the show or real life.
a/n: hi! this is part of ride or die, telling the story of the drunken mistake that's mentioned. im so excited about this, so i hope you guys like it! let me know if you do (or if you don't) :) shoot a message, like and/or reblog. thank you for reading!
masterlist
.....
The day had finally come. The team had made it. Javier had made it.
You made it. 
Finally, after months of going after Pablo Escobar, dismantling the Medellín cartel had never felt closer. One of the men closest to Escobar had been caught, thanks to you, Javi and the team. Everyone in the office was ecstatic, being congratulated for this accomplishment made all the sweat, blood, and tears worth it. Every night you had to stay in the office after hours, all the energy invested in going to bars and sketchy restaurants just to get men drunk so they could spill relevant information to you, the countless reports you had to read over and over again, just in case you had missed a tiny detail, reading until the letters became fuzzy, in this very moment, it didn't feel like a complete waste of time. You felt lighter at that very moment, it was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.
Too much money had been invested in this whole operation, and results weren't being perceived by the Government, meaning your jobs and positions were on the line until today. Today you proved your worth not only to your direct bosses in Colombia, but to everyone back in the US, and that was great for your future in the institution. Being immersed in a man's world like the DEA, means you need to prove your worth harder, and this is going to help you immensely. 
Although many people were patting your back, there was one man in the office you wanted to see and share this moment with. You tried to spot Javier in the middle of the whole commotion, but he was too busy talking to other colleagues. You catch a glimpse of his face and could notice he is feeling annoyed. You could definitely tell by the way his brows were furrowed, his smile was not completely genuine. Of course, Javier was happy and probably felt the same relief as you, but you knew your partner almost like the back of your hand and this is not the Javi you're used to. Sure, to the rest of your co-workers, this was Javier Peña, the guy who rarely smiled  and was too focused on his job. For them, this wasn't out of the ordinary, but agent Peña couldn't lie to you even if he tried.
Everyone wanted to go out and celebrate, hit the bars, and let loose just for one evening. Just this one time, forget all about narcos, cocaine, Pablo Escobar, the Cali and Medellín cartels, and the stressful schedules of the DEA too. 
And that's exactly what you did. The whole office went to that bar you all like, the one that's near the office. Not wanting to waste any more time, many bottles of different liquors were ordered. Feeling the burning sensation of the first tequila shot going down your throat was all you needed at the moment. After an hour of chatting and drinking, you spotted Javier at the other side of the bar, talking with some girls you hadn't seen before, definitely not at the office, maybe they're new interns, but who cares, right? Your favorite guy in the office, your partner who has barely spoken three words to you all day, was talking to two gorgeous women that, as far as you know, he just met, and has both of them wrapped around his finger, instead of talking to you, the one that has been with him through thick and thin, risking your lives together for this job. The hold you have on your glass was beginning to be too tight, and thank god Chrissy came to your rescue.
"Here, have another one!" she said, offering you another shot. You quickly directed your attention back to reality, thanking her and taking the shot glass, doing as you were told. You needed this time off, you needed to have fun. The music was loud, and you and Chrissy dragged another co-worker, Claudia, to the dance floor, which was already packed with other drunk colleagues. 
Javier saw you dancing, and almost immediately excused himself from the conversation and went right where you were, leaving both girls he was talking to disappointed. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. The mix of whiskey and beer had already begun to affect his senses, but Javi could still clearly see you laughing dancing with the girls, without a care in the world.
You let yourself loose on the dance floor, dancing and swaying your hips to the rhythm of salsa and merengue, having fun with the girls from the office until you felt a familiar touch on your shoulder.
"Hey," Javier said, surprising you.
"Oh so now you wanna talk to me, huh?" You said.
“I always wanna talk to you,” he replied, making you roll your eyes. 
“Well, we’re in the middle of the dance floor. I’m not sure this is the best place to talk” you said to his ear since the music was too loud. “Or maybe you wanna dance?” you grabbed his hand and moved his arm, in an attempt to get him to dance, teasing him, knowing he's not really into dancing at all. To your surprise he obliged, making you twirl, placing his free hand on your back, pulling you towards him closing the distance between you two, feeling his chest pressed to yours, as your hand helped you keep your balance, grabbing his bicep and then his shoulder.
“Woah there cowboy, didn't take you for a dancer," you said, feeling your cheeks getting hotter, hoping your hands didn't start to sweat, trying to keep your body language silent so he wouldn’t know the way he’s making you feel. 
"You know I'm not, just this one time" 
"Just this once? Am I that special?" you asked, soon realizing alcohol was doing the talking for you. Javier just laughed, making you turn halfway until your back met his chest. Javi placed his hand on your lower stomach now, pushing you, closing the gap between you two. You felt his hips move against you just for a few seconds, making you gasp in surprise, feeling how your pulse quickened and your heart fluttered, hoping once again that Javi didn't notice the effect he was having on you. The little scene made Claudia and Chrissy giggle, whisper to each other like school girls.
After the second song ended, it was the perfect excuse for you to go to the bar and ask for a cold beer, hoping it would help you cool down. 
"You know if you drink beer after liquor you'll get drunk quicker," Javier said, sitting on the barstool next to yours. 
"And who says I'm not drunk already?" you giggled, taking a sip of your drink. "Also, I'm about to leave, it's getting late," You said, giving the bartender the money, paying for your last order of the night. 
"Let me drive you home," Javier said, standing up from his chair. 
"Oh don't be ridiculous, stay and have fun with them. I'm a big girl, remember?" you said, also standing up, fixing your blouse and crossbody bag. 
"Just wanna make sure you get home safe. Plus your apartment is on the way to mine so it's fine," he said. 
You could notice he's somewhere in between tired and a little drunk, so why not let him drive you home, you didn't feel like driving anyway so you gave in.
"Alright, let's go, Peña". You left the bar and went straight to Javier's car. The big black jeep was parked right in front of the bar and stood out, surrounded by smaller, more colorful cars. You noticed Javier was far behind you, still at the bar, waving to the barman. He trotted to his car, holding two bottles of liquor.
"Isn't this too much, Javi?" You asked as you hopped in the car, as Javi held the passenger door open for you. He placed the bottles on your lap, as he put in the key, starting the engine. 
"There's no such thing as too much whiskey when you work for the DEA. Thought you knew that, agent," receiving a soft slap on his shoulder from you.
"Didn't know becoming an alcoholic was part of the deal, Javi". 
.....
“Thought you really didn’t like dancing. What happened back there?” You surprised him with the question, making him wonder actually why he gave in to your friendly banterwhen you grabbed his arm. Because you’re right, he doesn’t dance, only if it’s strictly necessary. When a girl he’s trying to seduce wants to dance with him, he would try his best to persuade her from the opposite, if she insisted then he would only do one song and that’s it. If he remembers correctly, one of the last times he danced for more than a song was back in the States, when one of his cousins got married and was basically pressured by his parents and older family members to dance with the woman that he would later leave at the altar.
“It’s… well. I don’t know. I just liked the song” He shrugged.
“Nah, Javi. Don’t lie to me. I can see right through your bullshit”
“Really. Willie Colon is good.”
You could see the way the grip of his hands around the steering wheel hardened, and a slight red shade began showing on his cheeks, although you couldn’t really tell if it was the effects of the alcohol, actually him blushing or maybe the reflection of the red lights.
“Hmm, I’ll pretend I believe you, Peña” You hummed "Got me thinking for a sec that I was special enough to make you wanna dance” Not wasting your opportunity to tease him a little and, maybe get your way with him, just like he does often when he calls you pet names. “Gotta admit you’re a great dancer too.”
A chuckle was all you got from him. Javi didn't want to confirm or deny your allegations, even thought his body did the talking for him, as he avoided your gaze completely.
.....
It didn’t take long for you two to arrive at the apartment complex. You felt a bit dizzy, and the movements of the car didn’t help you one bit.
"Here we are, bonita," Javier said, pulling up. 
"Thanks, Javi. Guess I'll see you tomorrow" you sighed, as you tried to unbuckle your seatbelt. Javier nodded, looking at your struggle. As he was about to help you, you released yourself.
"See? I'm a big girl," You said proudly. Javier smiled at you. That smile that's sweet and honest, the one that's just reserved for you and you only. 
"Sleep well."
"Unless," you said turning on your heel 
"Unless what?" He said, turning off the engine.
You picked up one of the bottles that now rested on the front seat "Unless you want to come upstairs and try this fancy whiskey." 
Javier agreed, feeling thankful for the offer since he didn't want to get to his apartment just yet, not wanting to feel alone tonight.  
Regularly, Javier had no problem with loneliness, he preferred being alone. He could do what he wanted, whenever he wanted, not owing anything to anyone, allowing him to work as a DEA agent more comfortably, in his opinion. Sometimes he’d wonder why many of his colleagues were married, had children or were in serious, long-term relationships, they were just a set back in anyone's career according to Javier. But tonight was different. Tonight loneliness didn't seem appealing like it always does.
He turned on the little stereo you had in your apartment and placed his wallet, badge, and gun on your coffee table, as he sank into the familiar warmth of your couch. 
You came back from your kitchen with two glasses, one with ice cubes for you and an empty one for him, knowing he liked his whiskey neat. The fact that you knew how he drinks his whiskey, and coffee, even that you know what things he likes to eat, never fails to make him feel warm inside. He hates to admit it, but deep down, Javier needs your attention and needs you to care about him. He needs you by his side, making loneliness lose its charm completely.
"You're staring," You said, pouring whiskey into his glass.
"I'm sorry. Es que hoy te ves hermosa," He said, trying his best to play it cool, teasing you a little bit, his tongue betraying him, showing he is more intoxicated than he wanted to be. 
"Peña, stop it," you said playfully, slapping his shoulder. You knew he was joking and more likely was the alcohol talking for him, but Javier wasn't playing around, he was being completely honest. You're beautiful, smart, and kind. He relies on you and trusts you with his life, but again, he'd never admit that to anyone, not even to himself sometimes. 
"Hmm how about we play a drinking game" you proposed, making Javier roll his eyes. 
"Aren't we a little old for that?"
"Can you just relax for five seconds Javier?" you sighed, expecting this kind of answer from him. 
He liked to pretend he was the mature one in this duo, needing to be the tough one, the unbreakable one, thinking that way he could maybe protect you, even though he knew you didn't really need it.
"Okay, what do you have in mind? ," Javier asked, straightening his posture.
"Never have I ever," you said. Javi closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers on his temple, a small laugh escaped his lips from how ridiculous the idea was to him. 
"Okay, you go first," he said.
"Alright, but no cheating," you warned him. He offered his pinky to promise that he will be honest. You gladly took it, smiling at the thought that Javi, as childish as he thought doing this was, still tried his best to make you feel valued, trying to hide the soft spot he has for you, but sometimes failing miserably.
You thought for a second about something you wanted to know about him, but that you suspect he's done to get him to drink. 
"Okay, never have I ever received a lap dance". He rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his drink. 
"You're too easy," you laughed. "Can I know when, how, and from whom?" you asked.
"Strippers, at a strip club, many times" He simply said. Of course, it's obvious that Javier is the kinda guy that has been to strip clubs and still goes to strip clubs frequently. What a stupid thing to ask, but at least you got him to drink.
"Never have I ever given a lap dance," he said. You could only accept your defeat, so you took a sip, "Care to give context?"
"Well, I'm not a stripper and never have been. Not that it's bad, I root for them honestly. Just to a couple of my exes, just for fun, spice things up a little I guess," you said blushing. Your plan had gone the opposite way but you didn't let it ruin the fun. Javi raised a brow drinking his whiskey.
The next half an hour was spent between laughs, clinking glasses when you both had done the same thing, even if you already knew the answer, getting closer, not just emotionally as you two got to know more details about each other, but physically as well.
It didn't take long until you found yourself leaning towards Javier, as he also seated closer to you. You could feel his hand on your cheek or your thigh now and then. Javi was testing the waters, all fueled by liquid courage, just in case, at that very moment, you felt the same way.
You may have also indulged in this flirtatious situation that was developing, placing your hand on his chest or knee for a little too long when you'd laugh at his stories, playing with your hair, hoping Javier would read your signs. Signs that sober you would never, ever, in a million years, try to send his way.
The alcohol in your systems threatened to cause trouble at any moment now, blurring the lines between friendship, work, and pleasure. At this point, words come out as slurs, almost unintelligible at times, making you both burst out laughing. 
"Okay, your turn," Javier said, finishing his glass.
"Never have I ever had a crush on a co-worker," Immediately regretting this, feeling how your cheeks and ears get hotter by the second, trying to hide behind your empty glass, avoiding eye contact with him. 
Javier didn't have time to refill his glass, taking the half-empty bottle, drinking directly from it, offering it to you since you too had finished your drink. 
"Bold of you to assume I ever had a crush on a co-worker," you tried to save your ass, making Javi scoff.
"It's very easy to tell. I know you better than I know myself" He admitted. "I know that right now, you feel at least attracted to one of your co-workers just by the way your cheeks turn slightly red when he gets closer to you," Javier said, caressing your face. "You make it so easy to read you, by the way you play with your hair, exposing that pretty neck of yours to him," 
You felt his hand go down, touching your neck, tickling you slightly as he brushed his fingers over that sweet spot, until he reached the base of your throat, caressing your skin, moving his middle finger so very softly from your left collarbone to your right, pushing away a thin strand of hair, making you gulp, sending goosebumps through your body.
You got caught. There was no point denying it now. Javier looked absolutely irresistible under the dim, warm light of your living room, the tight shirt you like hugged his muscular arms perfectly, unbuttoned in a way that just part of his chest is exposed to you. His touch feels almost electric against your skin. You could smell his fresh cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarettes. His mahogany eyes scanned your face, spending a couple of seconds down on your lips, admiring them, thinking how soft they’d feel against him, getting soon back to your eyes.
His breath felt dangerously close, his nose now grazing yours, his mustache tickling your skin, lips pressing against yours, making you respond to his actions. You could have crumbled there and then, feeling like putty in his hands, feeling his touch travel to the nape of your neck, as he asked for permission to deepen the kiss with his tongue, you granting it immediately. 
You placed your hands on his shoulders, making him shift his position, pressing his back to the back of the couch, letting you straddle him, feeling his hands travel from your neck, down to the side of your chest, passing by your waist, resting now between your hips and ass.
Neither of you could believe this was happening, but neither of you wanted to stop. You needed Javi as much as he needed you, he needed to feel you close tonight, closer than you have ever been. Maybe this was a mistake, built on the amount of alcohol you had consumed and the thrill of everything that happened during the day, but this wasn't the time to bring up morality or ethics. Maybe you'd discuss it later, or maybe never again. All you knew and wanted to know was unraveling beneath you.
You broke the kiss, being able to hear a faint groan coming from him, making you smile to yourself. Your fingers began to clumsily unbutton Javier's shirt, the pink one you liked so much but you liked his tan skin a lot more. He looked up at you smirking, liking how you're now taking the lead, lifting your blouse halfway, caresing the exposed skin of your waist. Once you finished, he moved his hands to the hem of your blouse, taking it off, exposing your white lacy bra. 
Javier admired the way you looked over him, adoring the contrast between your lips against your skin, lipstick barely there anymore, your hair is now a mess that he helped to create, melting to the way your soft hands felt on his chest, arms, and hair. Javi felt the need to tell you how beautiful you look, but he was speechless for probably the first time since he met you. He couldn't find the right words. He placed his hand on your jaw, softly pulling you down to continue kissing you. 
Kisses were sloppy, making you smile and giggle in between them, nibbling Javier's lips a little too hard at times, making him pinch or smack your ass in revenge, him licking your neck and biting into it, trying not to leave any evidence of this moment, but hard enough to make you moan and tell him to stop tickling you, but he wouldn't listen, he craved the little sounds you made, and he loved the way he was the one making you feel this good. Soon, the buzz the alcohol gave you was replaced by pleasure.
You could feel him getting hard, making you roll your hips harder, savoring that moment, feeling the grip he had on your hips become firm, as he guided your movements.
"Fuck baby, I need you," Javi said. 
"Need you too" You began to undo his belt and open his zipper, palming him over his clothes, feeling his cock twitch. You noticed he's not wearing any underwear, making it easier to free his hard cock, stroking it with your hand a few times, feeling pre-cum cover the palm of your hand, making it easier to touch him. 
Javi helped you get rid of your clothes, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear, pulling the garment off with your help. He could feel how wet you are, making you moan and grind your bare pussy against his hand, feeling his fingertips touch your slick folds, taking his time on your clit, drawing soft circles around it, slowly moving to your entrance, teasing you, spreading your arousal through your slit, making you believe he’s gonna stretch you with his fingers any moment now, but he moved them away when you felt him the closest, knowing exactly what he’s doing, showing you an almost evil grin.  
"Javi, please" you begged.
He took his fingers to his mouth, licking your arousal, "You taste so good, princesa," he said, ignoring your plea.
You felt his hands go to your back, searching for your bra, unclasping it, and tossing it recklessly across the room, cupping both your tits in his hands, taking one of your rock-hard nipples into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it, while his other hand played with your other bud, pinching it, making you moan his name over and over again.
Javi felt like he could burst into flames, needing to see you, really see you. All of you. Admire you, and praise you, make sure you feel like the only girl in the whole world, the only one in his world. Sure, he’s been with many women before, but all those women weren’t you. 
You were throbbing, and it almost hurt, needing some sort of relief, "Javier, fuck me. Please" you begged once again, stroking his hair. This time Javi felt benevolent, needing to feel you around him.
He guided you, grabbing your hips, as you took his hard on to align it to your entrance, tracing your pussy with the thick head of his cock, taking your time now to tease him a bit, feeling the grip he has on you get harder. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, hermosa."
You lowered yourself, feeling him stretch you, sharing a hungry kiss, as you began to move slowly, adjusting to his size. 
"Fuck princesa, you're so tight. So wet for me. Just for me" he moaned. The way you clench around him, made Javi let out a soft groan and drop his head from pleasure. Javi moves his hips painfully slowly, savoring every moment, trying to engrain deep in his memory the way your warm, tight cunt feels around him, since there’s no guarantee that this will ever happen again with you. 
“Sh-shit Javi. Yes, just for you” you whimpered, feeling so full, being able to release the tension that had built up after all the teasing.
You began moving your hips, catching up to his peace, noticing the way his sharp jaw clenched at the same time his abs did, noticing he was suppressing  a moan. Javi didn’t want to get distracted with his sounds, wanting to have all his senses focused on yo
“Uh-uh Javier. What’s got you so quiet?” you said, placing your thumb and index finger on his chin, making him look back at you. “Let me hear those little sounds you make, let me know how good my pussy is making you feel”, you said, moving up and down, using him, making him let out a laugh that got lost in a moan. That moan was music to your ears, it was heavenly, his deep voice now turned into those high pitched, incomprehensible sounds of pleasure. 
“That’s my good boy” you purred, biting his earlobe, collecting a new whimper from him. 
You never thought Javi, the stoic man, the one that seemed unbreakable could be tamed this easily, letting you see this softer, submissive and needy side of him. 
Maybe you actually are that special.
The room was filled with wet sounds and loud moans and praises from both of you, that muffled the background music. Breaths got more shallow and shaky, as you two became one in sync, the delicious rhythm you two created began to get sloppier. His arms snaked their way to the back of your thighs, picking you up, adjusting himself beneath you, allowing him to sit up, shifting the angle in one swift movement as if you were a ragdoll, making you see stars as his cock touched that special spot inside you. He continued to stimulate you, feeling yourself getting closer to your release, as you felt one of his hands move from your hips up to your neck, applying the right amount of pressure to make you gasp, feeling the mouthwatering constraint against you, driving you insane. His hand then moved to cup your jaw, touching your lower lip with his thumb.
“Open up princesa” he commanded. You quickly obliged, taking his thumb and sucking on it, swirling your tongue around it. “Such a dirty girl” Javi said as you let go of his now wet digit with a pop. He proceeds to place it on your hardened clit, working soft and consistent circles around it. 
“I-I’m close Javi” you whispered, trying to keep your rhythm, fucking youself on his cock.
“Come for me baby girl. I got you” Javi’s praise was enough to send you over the edge, digging your nails in his skin, leaving marks on his shoulders and his back as you came undone,  repeating Javier’s name like prayer. Feeling his lips on yours, kissing you deeply, muffling your moans, feeling the spasms of your cunt around him.
“Shit, so tight hermosa. Can you give me one more baby? I know you have it in you” he said against your lips. You nodded, feeling the need to please him, submitting yourself completely to him and his wishes just for tonight.
You began moving again, as much as your legs hurt, the pain is soon forgotten, as your moves make you feel his coarse hair against your clit. Javi pulled you closer to him, leaving bites on your shoulder until he hid his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the remains of your perfume and hints of your shampoo. 
Both scents were part of his daily routine, those scents welcomed him every morning from monday through friday, mixing throughout the day with the smell of coffee, the ones that went with him almost everywhere. Even when both of your lives were at risk, he could find comfort in the sweetness of you.
You could feel his groans and needy moans right next to your ear, getting lost in the sensations. The way he continues to fill you up, hitting your g-spot every now and then, his hands roaming your body, groping and kneading your ass, and thighs, kissing your neck, lips and now, focusing on your tits, kissing both of them, as he continues to thrust into you, trying your best to keep up. Pure bliss, it’s overwhelming, it feels like fire is consuming you from the inside, chasing your second orgasm. You squeezed your eyes shut, a couple tears leaving your eyes, letting him know you’re again close to your release. 
“No, princesa, eyes down here. Need to see that pretty face when you come”
“I’m yours tonight, Javi. Feels so good, f-fill me up. Please” you moaned, your eyes finding his.
“I’m yours. Always.” Javier moaned. This little confession got lost between whimpers and moans.
The way your warm and wet cunt feels around his throbbing cock, your moans and whimpers, your hands that tug his hair and the scratches you’re leaving on his back that are beginning to burn with the drops of sweat that are traveling down his spine, make him move faster, slamming into you, needing to feel you finish around him once again.
“You sure you want me to fill that pretty cunt of yours? Wanna feel my cum drip down your legs, huh? Wanna keep me in you? ” you nodded 
“God, Javi. Yes. feels s’good.”
“You’re doing so well baby. I- fuck I’m close” he said. 
You felt his rhythm get sloppy under you, as he hits his own high, fucking his thick come as deep in you as he could, calling your name, groaning from the stimulation sending you again over the edge, this orgasm hitting you harder than the first, making you scream his name as you milked his cock, riding your orgasm, pressing your sweaty forehead against his, receiving one last passionate kiss from him.
You spent a few moments like that, breathy laughs erupted from the two of you. This felt so absurd, quite unbelievable. You moved to lay down on your couch, covering yourself with his shirt, as Javi stands up looking for his jeans and helps you clean up. When you're done, he sits next to you, opening his arm, offering his chest for you to rest your head on, being able to listen to his heartbeat.
“So” He says, lighting up one of his last cigarettes. 
“So…” You repeated, raising your eyebrows, expecting him to finish his sentence.
“That was… something,” Javi said, as he exhaled smoke.
“It definitely was something” You giggled, taking his cigarette from him, taking a long drag.
“A good something” He added. You agreed, laughing softly once again. Still feeling like your legs will betray you if you dare to stand up.
Awkwardness began to fill the space,neither of you wanting to say the wrong thing. Javi didn’t want to hurt you, and you definitely didn’t want to hurt him either. Losing your friendship and closeness because of something as silly as this was off the table. Because it is silly, isn’t it? You both wanted this, you both went through with it, making each other feel like you catched a glimpse of heaven, and you served a purpose to one another. 
“Javi-” 
“I-” 
You spoke up at the same time, sharing a warm smile. He grabbed your hand, squeezing it, giving you the opportunity to speak first.
“Do you uh- regret this?” you asked, feeling your cheeks get red.
“No.” Javi said. 
“Okay good, me neither” feeling instant relief. “But I think this should stay as a one time thing, you know? We were” you shook your head, realizing your subtle error “we are drunk, it was just a-”
“A drunken mistake” He finished what you were trying to say, showing his practical side now, knowing that you would have spent a couple minutes just rambling, trying to find the correct words.
“Yes. A drunken mistake” you giggled, squeezing the hand that was still holding yours.
“A one time thing also?” You asked, needing confirmation. 
“Si, princesa. A one time thing” Javi said, kissing your forehead, permitting himself once again to show this protective, sweeter side of his to you, in the privacy of your apartment.
.....
After that night, you promised to yourselves everything that unfolded in your place, would never happen again. Ever. You’re both adults that can control themselves, right? You could let it go, not needing that silly little mistake to get in between you two. When you’d catch Javi giving you one of his killer looks, you’d try to ignore him, reminding him of the pact you made, “One time only Javi”, seeing him roll his eyes in a friendly way, as he went back to whatever he was doing previously. He’d remind you at times too, when he’d catch you staring at his lips when he’s talking to you for a little too long, he’d say something like “Thought it was a one time thing?” making you blush and avoid his gaze for the rest of the conversation.
All these promises you made to each other and yourself, over and over again, every reminder either of you repeated, were proved to be in vain. They didn't mean anything, specially when you would catch yourself wrapped around him, his hot breath dancing down your neck and your hands mindlessly roamed his body again, sometimes in the office, in your or his apartment, maybe in his or your car. Other times you would find yourself moaning, while his head is resting between your legs, making sure he's leaving marks on the soft flesh of your thighs, so you could remember him for a little longer, brushing your core with his nose and mustache, letting you know how pretty you are, how good you taste and praising you like you’re his own personal goddess.
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Hoy te ves hermosa: you look beautiful today— Hermosa: beautiful — princesa: princess — sí: yes — bonita: pretty
948 notes · View notes
guilty-pleasures21 · 2 months
Note
Jason Todd submissive? Please I'm obsessed 😭🙏🏼 (I don't speak English, sorry Google translator JAKSKAKSKK)
— 🐏
Ahh! My first request! I tried my best based on what I understood of the assignment and I really hope you like it 😅!
Also, I speak French, a little bit of Spanish, Mandarin (though it's been ages! 🫠) and Punjabi, so don't worry about having to translate these if it's easier for you! Although I'm only comfortable writing in English, so I hope this is still all right!
Also, also, I know most writers on this site write in Y/N format, so you guys can just let me know if you prefer that format or 3rd person and I can change it accordingly.
Interrogation practise
I feel like Jason wouldn't let you try to dominate him, so you'd just have to try to trick him into it 😉.
Part 1 - the interrogation
Part 2 - the revenge
Part 3 - the roleplay
Warnings: bondage, explicit description of sex including blowjob (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).
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     She gave the knot a final tug, then looked up at him. “Is this okay?” 
     “That’s perfect, baby,” Jason assured her, shifting in position to get himself more comfortable. She stood up and moved to stand in front of him. She’d asked him to help her practise her interrogation techniques - she was always too soft when it came to questioning criminals and she wanted to learn how she could improve on her weaknesses. She’d tried asking some of the others before - Bruce, Cass, Dick - but they were all either too impatient or too violent for her tastes. And even though her boyfriend could be … a little hot-headed at times, he was always gentle when it came to her, helping her use her own unique talents to better improve her crime-fighting style. 
     “Okay, so, how should I start?” X asked him. Jason let his gaze trail over her body, his eyes lingering a little too long on her tanned and tone legs, bare beneath her little shorts. He dragged his gaze back up to hers, trying not to think about how very helpless he was right now, tied up to this chair in front of his pretty little girlfriend, just waiting to torture him. He shook the thought away.
     “So, you want to start gentle,” he coached her patiently. “People are already scared of the big old Bat, right? So you want to convince them that it’s better for them to talk to you instead.” She nodded in understanding.
“Okay, so … What should I be trying to get out of you in this situation? Give me a storyline.” He smirked, amused by how seriously she was taking the situation. She was so cute, his sweet little girlfriend. 
     “Hmm … Maybe you could be trying to find out where the Riddler’s hideout is?” Jason suggested. “I could pretend to be one of his goons.”
     “Okay,” she agreed. She cleared her throat, taking a moment to get into character, then raised her head again, clasping her hands behind her back and strolling over to him. “Look. You and I both know things are going to get a lot more … unpleasant when my boss gets here. So, why don’t we help each other out?” 
     She placed her hands on the back of his chair, bending over so that her lips were just a breath apart from his. “You tell me where the Riddler’s hiding and I’ll make sure the Batman goes easy on you.” 
     Jason’s lips curled at the ends as he appraised her and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that to convince me.” 
     “Hmm,” X considered, her dark eyes trailing down his face and landing on his lips. “What would you like me to do for you, Mr Todd?” 
     F*ck. This was a bad idea. Why had he agreed to this? Oh, right: because she’d given him that pretty little look of innocence that drove him mad whenever he saw it, her dark and curly eyelashes fluttering up at him, her full and rosy lips twisted down in a pout. But shit, they’d barely started and he was already regretting his decision. He should have made them do it the other way around instead; he should have tied her up to his bed while he ‘demonstrated’ the proper technique to her. She dragged a finger down his chest, her eyes following the path she made along his hard muscles. 
     “What would it take …” she slid her legs on top of his, settling herself in his lap, “... for you to tell me where the Riddler is hiding?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, her breath tickling his ear as she murmured into it. 
     “Hmm? 'Sweetheart'?” His head fell back with pleasure as she chuckled at her own words before nipping playfully at his ear.
     “Ah, f*ck!” Jason shifted in position, struggling against his binds so he could free his hands and run them all over her deliciously bare thighs. God, she was hot. X straightened and moved one hand to cup his face, her lips so close to his, but still so painfully far.
     “Why won’t you tell me, Jace?” she whined, pouting at him pleadingly. Then her lips twisted into a grin and she dragged her thumb across his lip before beginning her mouth to his. “You know what I’ll do for you if you do.” 
     He leaned forward, meaning to kiss her, to close the distance between them and lick up the sweet taste of her. But she pulled away again and he growled in response. “X!”
     X giggled and stood up, curling her fingers around his shoulder and moving to stand behind him. 
     “This is an interrogation, Jason,” she reminded him, bending over and sliding her hands down his chest appreciatively. He was so hot, her big and strong boyfriend. “You’ll get what you want when I say you get it.” She nipped at his ear again and he sighed, wriggling his legs to try to free his ankles from their binds. She pressed her lips to his neck, the soft moans escaping from her throat driving him crazy as she made her way down to his shoulder. 
     “Mmm, Jason,” she mumbled, her voice low and seductive in his ear. She straightened, her hands returning to his shoulders as she stood over him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to maintain his self-control - and his control over the situation he’d landed himself in. 
     “Princess,” he called to her, his tone sweet, lazy - like he was the one still in charge. “Why don’t you untie me and we’ll see what we can work out?” She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it as she moved to stand in front of him again. 
     “Hmm, I don’t know,” she admitted, grabbing his shoulders again and bending over him, her dark hair falling forward to frame her sweet face. “I’m having much more fun trying to work things out like this.” 
     Her eyes fell to his chest, to the sharp lines of his muscles pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt as he sat there, hands bound behind his back as he looked up at her. “It’s too bad you still have your clothes on though - we could have had so much more fun if you’d taken them off first.” 
     He sighed and let out another curse as she shot him a wicked smile. Then he watched as she turned around and went over to the kitchen, grabbing a knife before making her way back over to him. His heart started picking up its pace in his chest and he couldn’t decide whether he was terrified or thrilled by the idea of what she was about to do next. “Princess.” 
     She ignored him as she walked back over to him, her steps slow and precise. Then she grabbed the collar of his shirt and traced her knife over the soft fabric before slicing it down the centre. She stood back and licked her lips at the sight of his bare chest, setting her knife aside before climbing back on top of his lap. 
     “Mmm, Mr Todd!” she chuckled, running her hands down his chest and leaning forward to bring her lips to his ear. “Looks like the Riddler’s got his men working on an extensive exercise routine.” She curled her fingers around the waistband of his pants, wriggling back a little to give her hands more room, and he felt his body start to heat up in anticipation. 
     “Does he have a gym? At this secret hideout of his?” She traced her fingers over the outline of his cock, already starting to harden in his sweatpants, and let out another little laugh. “Maybe you could take me there sometime. How about that?” She nibbled on his neck as she slid her hand into his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down teasingly. 
     “F*ck,” Jason groaned, his head falling forward at the sensation. X pulled back to look at him, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. 
     “What’s wrong, Mr Todd?” she asked him, delighted to finally have the upper hand over him. “Still not convincing enough for you?” She lowered her lips to his, but continued to dodge his attempts to kiss her, chuckling when he groaned in frustration. Then she leaned forward to pull his lip between hers and sucked on it before letting him go again.
     “Ah, shit!” Jason exclaimed, his breaths getting heavier as he started to become more aroused. He let out a choked gasp as she brushed her thumb over his tip and began circling it gently. “X. Don’t … Stop it, sweetheart.”  
     “You want me to stop?” She shook her head at the thought, lips still curled into that devious smile. “Don’t you remember what I said, Jace?” 
     She brought her face back to his, smirking at him in the way he’d always smirk at her when he was teasing her, pushing her to the very limits as he played with and pleasured her. “I’m in charge tonight.” 
     His head fell back against the seat as she continued twirling her slender fingers around his cock. He should never have agreed to this; he should have known the moment she’d asked him to help her out, that mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes as she'd gazed up at him. Had she planned this all along? Had she wanted to tie him up just so she’d be able to dominate him for a change? Dominate him in the way he’d always dominate her? X frowned, feigning confusion as she looked down at the frustrated crease between his brows. 
     “You’re feeling a little dry, Jace,” she informed him, removing her hand from around his c*ck and pushing herself off of him. He swallowed hard as she lowered herself to her knees and pulled his pants down, licking her lips hungrily at the sight of his cock exposed before her. “Let’s see what we can do about that, hmm?”
     “X, don’t … This isn’t how an interrogation works, sweetheart,” he informed her, trying to keep his tone gentle so she wouldn’t be tempted to challenge him. She glanced up at him quickly, then fixed her gaze back on his cock, her eyes lighting up with delight. 
     “Hmm?” she mumbled, reaching forward to grab hold of his dick. “I’m just trying to use my strengths, Jay. Like you always tell me to do?” She turned her face up to his, grinning at the feeling of his cock throbbing in her hand. Then she leaned forward and dragged her tongue across his tip, licking him up slowly. He bit down on his tongue, trying to stop a groan from falling out at the sensation. He could do this: he’d been in much, much worse situations before and he hadn’t cracked then. There was no way he was going to give her the pleasure - the satisfaction - of knowing that she was the only one capable of breaking the unbreakable Jason Todd. No way in hell was he going to let her have this! But then she wound her tongue around his shaft, closing her mouth around him and letting out a low moan that danced along his skin. F*ck. He pressed his lips together, barely muffling the groan that managed to escape his throat. 
     “X, don’t … don’t …” he panted heavily, struggling against his binds as she continued sucking his cock, her pretty little mouth taking him in so nicely. She pulled her head back slowly, dragging him out of her mouth, then lowered her lips to his balls, her fingers continuing to work on his tip as she suckled on him gently. 
     “Don’t what, Mr Todd? Are you not enjoying this?” She licked one of his balls, curling her tongue around it before pulling it into her mouth to suck on it. 
     He was definitely not enjoying this - not at all! He was the one who was supposed to be dominating her; throwing her around and teasing her until she was begging him for relief, her perfect little breasts bouncing up and down as he brought her to the edge of her pleasure and back down again. He never hurt her, of course - never forced into anything she wasn’t comfortable with. But it was just one of the only times he finally felt in control of something in his life and he was f*cked if she found out how so very aroused he was right now. 
     She chuckled, knowing exactly how much he was enjoying it - and exactly how much he was hating the fact. She’d wanted to try it, just once, but she knew her boyfriend would never have agreed to something like this, proud as he could be. So, she’d devised this clever plan, playing into his ego to make him think that she was just so innocent and so desperate for his help. She pulled his dick back into her mouth, moaning against his tip when it hit the back of her throat before letting him go again. Then she stood up. 
     “Okay. You’ve had your fun,” Jason relented, the muscles in his shoulders flexing deliciously as he pulled against his binds again. “Now untie me, X.” She rearranged her features into that innocent expression that drove him crazy every time she used it on him. 
     “But you still haven’t told me where the Riddler’s hideout is,” she pointed out, eyes wide as she waited for his response. He huffed in irritation, his chest heaving up and down as he glared at her. He looked so hot like this, jaw clenched in anger, strands of his dark hair falling into his mossy eyes. There was no way she was going to let him go so easily - not until she was completely done having her fun! He kept his mouth shut and she shrugged. “If that’s how you want to play.” 
     X started taking her clothes off, taking her sweet time removing each piece of clothing and dropping them into his lap. She smirked when she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down and her eyes fell back down to his cock, the tip glistening now with the prec*m starting to leak out of it. She slid her hands up her abdomen and squeezed her breasts when she reached them, her body entirely bare before him now. 
     “What’s wrong, Jay? Are you gonna come all over my clothes?” She blinked at him sweetly, feigning innocence before bending over to murmur in his ear. “Why would you do that when my pretty little p*ssy is already waiting for you to fill it up?”
He let out a choked gasp at her words. “F*ck!”
She straightened and giggled at the thunderous expression on his face, his thick brows crashing together over his darkened eyes. Then she flicked her hair over her shoulder and straddled him again, wriggling her body against his as she ground her hips into his slowly.
     ���F*****ck,” he groaned into her neck, his dick so painfully hard for her. “Shit, baby. Faster. I need you. Now.” She twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up at her again. 
     “You just don’t listen, do you, Jason?” She flicked her tongue out, licking his lips before giggling and tugging on the skin of his neck with her teeth. “We should do something about that.” She slid her hands down his hard chest, pressing quick kisses down his neck before licking a stripe back up to his ear. 
     “Shit, baby. Anything. I’ll do anything you want me to.” He began thrusting his hips against hers, desperate for relief. “You want me to tell you where the Riddler’s hideout is? I’ll tell you. Gotham … museum … or whatever.” Had they agreed on a location? He couldn’t remember. And he didn’t really care, either way - all he needed was her, her tight little p*ssy clenching around his dick, her warm and wet walls squeezing him tight as he unloaded himself inside of her. She giggled as she bounced up and down on his lap, clearly delighted by how desperate he was for her. Then she took hold of his chin, tilting his face up to hers so she could look him in the eyes. 
     “Really? You’re not just lying to me so I’ll give you what you want?” Jason shook his head quickly, doing his best to focus on what she was saying. But f*ck, she felt good, her p*ssy already dripping for him as she waited for him to fill her up.
     “No!” he reassured her. “I promise. I … Shit. Please, X. Please, sweetheart, I’ll … F*****ck.” His head fell forward as she stopped her movements, his dick pulsing and throbbing with desire. Then finally, she reached down to take hold of his cock, sliding it through her already drenched folds in preparation. He suck in a breath at the feeling of her warm and sticky c*m, then let out a grunt as she started easing him inside of her, his hips thrusting into hers as his body begged him for relief. 
     “Slow down, Jay!” she laughed. “You wanted to hold out against me, right? You didn’t want to give me what I wanted?” She grabbed his hair again and pulled his head back so he was forced to look up at her, at the wicked curl of her lips.
     “And I asked you so nicely, too!” she continued, letting go of him and lowering her lips to his. “Should I wait? Should I just stop and wait for the Batman to come and deal with you?”
     “F*ck, no! Don’t … Shit.” She wouldn’t actually stop, would she? Not when he was already halfway inside of her? “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, baby. Please, just …”
     He lowered his head to her shoulder, brushing his lips along her neck and murmuring against her skin. “Come on, sweetheart. Please? I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” 
     “Hmm, anything?” she asked him, her body tingling at the low rumble of his voice, at the way his thick cock filled her up so very nicely. She held his head in her hands, guiding his mouth to her breast as she ground herself into him, her p*ssy pulling him deeper inside of her with every roll of her hips. She shivered as he closed his lips around her nipple, dragging his tongue around it and suckling on it in just the way he knew she liked. “Mmm, shit, Jay.” 
     She moaned at the way he licked and sucked on her breasts, his cock brushing up against her walls every time she moved. She slid her fingers into his hair and tugged on the strands, pulling his head back again to see that dazed look on his face again. Her nipples tingled at the way his eyes had glazed over from pleasure, his pupils so wide now that the beautiful green of his irises had disappeared almost entirely. She giggled at the sight, then pressed her lips to his, moaning into his mouth as she kissed him deeply. He raised his hips to thrust himself into her repeatedly, his dick hitting that one spot that had her curling over in ecstasy. And then she hit her breaking point, her body shuddering and shaking against him as she came. She gripped onto his shoulders, trying to maintain her balance as her p*ssy pulsed around his dick, clenching it tight and begging for him to fill her up. His hips stuttered as his c*m gushed into her, the warm and sticky liquid shooting into her vagina and leaking back out again. X whimpered at the feeling, curling herself around him and burying her face in his neck as he unloaded himself inside of her. Then finally, he leaned back against his seat, the tension leaving his body as he finally got his release. 
     “We … are never doing that again,” Jason panted warningly, his green eyes boring into her as she straightened. His eyes fell to her breasts as she tried to catch her breath, the beautiful mounds glistening with sweat just waiting for him to lick away. 
     “In that case … I guess I’d better take advantage … of right now,” she joked, delighting in the way his dick was still buried inside of her. Jason growled, baring his teeth at her in a snarl. 
     “X. Untie me - right now,” he demanded, not playing around anymore. X sighed and got up off of him, her body protesting at the sudden emptiness inside of her. She knelt down to undo the ties around his ankles, then moved to take care of the one binding his wrists together. He jumped up as soon as he was free, shrugging his shirt and pants off before grabbing her and lifting her up in his arms.      
“Just you wait, sweetheart,” he growled in her ear, carrying her over to his bedroom. “It’s my turn now: and I don’t care if it takes me the entire night to get what I want from you.”
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