Citric Acid

sevika hums in agreement, nestling her face in the crook of your neck now. her tongue begins to circle a small area, closer to your ear before her fangs lightly run down your neck. “you like that baby?” she rasps, her plump lips peck against your skin before sucking it roughly, her index and middle fingers shoves in your mouth.

your saliva coats it while your spit spills out from your mouth and down to her palm, covering all over your chin. ambessa’s plump lips press onto your dripping cunt before opening her mouth and sucking your folds.

“all this pussy needs is some attention, such a good girl for us.” sevika moans before her fingers slip out from your mouth and move to your nipples, feeling your body jolt.

“bet if we stuffed both our dildos in that sweet pussy of yours it would just keep sucking, huh?” she chuckles, her laughter vibrates against your neck making you shiver. you try to close your legs only for sevika to grip her calves tighter around you. sevika hand grabs your chin, forcing your head to look at her now. forcing your jaw open, her eyes glance down at your lips much before she spits in your mouth at the same time ambessa spits on your clit and wraps her tongue around it like her favorite lollipop.

your stomach turns while you gasp for air, ambessa’s tongue is so deep inside you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly. you wish you could squirm, at least buck your hips up. sevika pulls away, sucking up the saliva that drips down to your chin.

your hand makes a fist as your breath hitches, “this– fuck!­ s’too much.” you lean your head back on sevika’s shoulder as her hand moves to your other nipple, pinching it before rubbing it gently. they both giggle, sevika pouts at you, “but you said you could handle us.” she mocks, moving her head back down to your neck, inhaling the scent of your blood, becoming hungry by the second.

ambessa stops, pressing one more kiss against the folds of your pussy, which makes you whine. “how can you expect us to believe you can take our strap in your mouth and pussy but you barely can handle my mouth and her fingers?”

the two laugh at your words, before you could reply, ambessa blows against your cunt and sucks the slight cum that drips out already. “you poor baby,” sevika replies against your ear, “we’re not even done with you yet and you’re already giving up.” she responds, her hand moves down to your stomach, the warmth of her skin making you hotter.

“i can handle you- fuck, i’m gonna cum, ambessa!” you tone whiny and voice shaking. your hips whither, growing tired of the limited movement you’re giving. ambessa devours your twitching and throbbing pussy. she doesn’t stop sucking your cunt, tasting your cum all over her tongue while her hand rests on top of your pelvis.

“such a good girl for us.” sevika mutters, her fangs brushing against your neck again. your body becomes tired, sweat all over you as you feel overwhelmed.

“absolutely beautiful,” ambessa gleams at the sight of your twitching pussy, cum still drooling down to her bedsheets.

she leans up to you, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “you did such a good job for us.” she whispers, her eyes flicker to sevika who nods. “we got you baby.” she reassures, feeling your body go weak against her.

© winterz. my inbox is always open!!

You rolled your eyes. “Touché.”

“Thought so.”

She went back to her laptop. You sighed and stuffed the spoon back into the jar. “Y’know, for all I’d know you could end up being a serial killer.”

“I told you to stop watching those shitty documentaries.” Sevika said with a shake of her head. “That’s absurd.”

“I mean, why else would someone have a mystery room in their house and not even tell their best friend about it?”

“It’s personal.”

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me you have a shrine dedicated to some random girl in there!” You sat up, kicking your feet almost excitedly.

Sevika’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?” She blinked. “Where the fuck do you keep getting allegations like that?”

You sighed, body deflating like a sad balloon. “Nowhere… I’m just curious. Why can’t you tell me if you’re a psychopath? I promise I won’t tell the police.”

“I’d rather die.” Sevika replied dryly.

“Geez. Now I’m really starting to wonder— ooh! Is it a crush of yours? All chained and shit?”

Sevika leaned over and plucked your phone out of your free hand. “Less time on this.” She shoved a book— one of those motivational thingies— in your hand. “More of this.”

“Ugh, you’re worse than my mom.”

It was afternoon when Sevika left for her business trip. Your head was buzzing with thoughts. What could be behind that door?

Sevika left the house, door clicking shut behind herself as she walked out. You waited by the window and watched her as if you were getting paid to find out your roommate’s weird secret.

Once you saw her drive away, you scurried over to the door again. Hmmm, how should you open it? As if you remembered all the detective movies you’d seen— your hand instantly reached for your bobby pin.

You plucked it out of your hair and knelt by the door. You jabbed it inside— twist and snap!

It broke.

You stared at the part lodged in the lock. Well, fuck.

Then, a beeping sound filled the room— a little sensor light turned red. You swallowed.

Then— buzz. A text.

SEVIKA : step away from the lock.

You stared at it dumbly. Of course someone like Sevika would put a lock this extensive on a secret room door. You gave it a bit.

About an hour.

Then you advanced again— the lock felt looser this time. Your eyes narrowed and then you managed— a satisfying click.

Must’ve been a defect in the lock but it’s a win so you’d take it.

You pushed the door aside and walked in— holy shit, it was a BDSM room. Much like the ones you’d see in porn movies. There was a wooden horse, cuffs and shackles, some dangling from the ceiling, whips and there was a box filled with just various kinds of dildos. Your jaw fell open. This was fucking epic.

You stepped back a little before you reached for your phone.

YOU : oh, my god, guys. Would anyone peg Sevika to be the kind to own a fucking sex room?

KAYLA : what the fuck?

PENNY : oh fuckkkk 😭 😭 😭 😭

FIONA : shit @SEVIKA didn’t expect that at all

SEVIKA : what the actual fuck?

Sevika paced around her hotel room for a while, just wondering how on earth you’d managed to disarm her stupidly extensive security system. She knew she needed to get back. She needed to get back and teach you a fucking lesson to stay out of her business.

Sevika was supposed to return home in about a week but it had only been 4 days since you’d posted that in the group chat. She couldn’t stop thinking about it on her way back home. She just couldn’t. Every time she tried to make herself focus on the deal she was cutting for her company, her mind just somehow drifted back to you. It was like you’d rooted yourself there in her brain and refused to let go. She groaned.

“Gosh, what the fuck did you get yourself into?” She asked herself mentally.

The door flew open— you almost screamed thinking it was an intruder.

“Oh, you’re home early.” You said, voice lazy as your leg dangled off the arm of the couch.

You were laid there in a position that suggested you’d been scrolling for hours at a stretch.

Sevika’s heart warmed over at the sight of you being so cozy, and before she could stop herself, she took quick strides towards you— bent down and kissed you.

You gasped, “Sevika!”

You squeaked softly into the kiss but you didn’t push her away. Your hand grabbed the collar of her top and pulled her closer instead, welcoming her into your mouth.

“Mm, just stay right here,” Sevika whispered.

You pushed up against her torso as the kiss deepened. Her big hand caressed your cheek, travelling down your arm and reached the waist of your pajama pants. You grinned into the kiss.

Sevika parted— just a little.

“Hmm? Dirty girl… gettin’ turned on so fast?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Says the one with the fucking sex room.”

“Speaking of which…” Sevika’s hand parted your legs slowly, “I should be fucking you raw in it for outing me like that.”

“Come at me.”

You grinned devilishly.

Sevika picked you up with ease, carrying you into the room— the door closed behind her dramatically. She laid you on the big bed inside, the mattress dipped under your weight. Her fingers twisted at the hem of your pants, she pulled them down roughly.

“Fuck… you’re wet as fuck.”

“Yeah?”

You reached down and parted your lips to show off your sticky, messy, slicked labia and slit. Sevika sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re such a fucking tease.” Sevika cupped your pussy with her hand, it was so comically small in comparison to her hand it made her chuckle.

“Come on, Sev, I know you wanna fuck me. Set me right. Tame me…” you ground up against her touch, desperate for more.

“Mmm, well, you’d like that,” Sevika tilted her head. “And we’re not here for that.”

She stripped herself— revealing her perfectly toned abs and biceps underneath. You watched her hungrily, she took her time slowly undoing her belt and letting her pants fall to the ground. You stared at her wild bush for a bit before the strap covered it. You focused on the toy— shit, it was big. Like— not just big, monster big.

You felt the tip nudge your hole.

“Oh, fuck… Sev, I don’t think I can m—”

“We’ll make it fit.”

You whimpered when the first bit of it entered you. It was big. Almost unimaginably so. Your hands wrapped around her, nails digging into her back.

“Aww, are you gon’ cry?” Sevika teased, pushing in a few more inches.

You winced. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Hmm? And you’re not for fucking breaking into a room I told you to fucking ignore?” Sevika slammed the length inside, making you gasp.

You clutched her tighter, eyes squeezing shut as your breath hitched. Sevika’s hand found your back, rubbing slow circles in a soothing motion.

“Aww, my baby, there you go. You’re okay.”

“It’s… it burns.”

“It’s supposed to,” she thrusted further deeper, “just a little stretch. Nothing my girl can’t take.”

“I…” your mouth opened as if you’d deny it, and then closed.

You’d take it. You’d show her you’re her good girl. You couldn’t even control it when you felt the first sting of tears appearing in your eyes.

“Fuck…” you sniffled and hid your face in Sevika’s shoulder, not that it would hide the fact you were crying.

Sevika was quick to take notice of that.

“Aww, look at me,” she grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact, “gonna cry because my cock’s too big for your stupid little slut hole, hmmm?”

“Oh…” you exhaled, shaky, pussy squeezing around the length. “I can’t take more…”

“Y’know what,” Sevika pulled out, “I’m gonna give you an upperhand here.” She got off the bed, standing by it instead. “Come here. Suck.”

You stared at her with blurry eyes for a second before crawling closer and slowly taking the artificial cock in your hands. You ran your hand over the shaft that was slicked with discharge.

Your lips wrapped around it as you slowly took it inside your mouth, tongue favouring the underside. Sevika grabbed your hair, fingers lacing within your locks. She pulled you back— no, yanked you back— you winced.

“Open.” She ordered.

Your mouth fell open, she spat inside. “Good. Now suck, take that thing in your throat.”

You nodded. “Mhm, I want… I want it.”

“Better lube it nice then, sweetheart.”

Once Sevika decided the strap was wet enough, she had you turn around so your ass was facing her. She parted the cheeks and found your winking hole leaky. She chuckled.

“Someone’s turned on.”

Then, without warning or even giving you a generous minute to adjust, she slammed the strap inside. You howled in pain-pleasure, both mixed in, scratching the blanket as she fucked you. Her pace was unmatched, the bed creaked with every slam inside you. You could swear your insides were getting bruised by her speed and intensity.

Sevika just about a second, or how much ever time she took to bend forward and grab a handful of your hair— then she dragged your head back. You winced, cried out even— but it wasn’t for her to stop.

“Fuck! Harder, harder! Please…”

“Oh, honey, you can’t handle harder.”

Your tears glistened on your flushed cheeks as Sevika turned you over on your back. Your body slammed against the mattress— she grabbed your wrists on one hand, strap still inside— click.

Handcuffs.

Cool metal dug into your wrist as you let Sevika use you as she pleased. Your body was wrecked, barely responding to whatever little sense you had left in your brain. Your mouth opened again and the tiniest whimper escaped you.

“Nnghh… can’t…” you blabbered before your pussy convulsed and a stream of squirt left you.

It soaked Sevika’s abs and the sheets. Sevika came too just a little bit after, the base of the strap proving to have been grinding against her swollen clit all this while.

“You’re such a good fuck, baby,” Sevika tugged you closer. “Had I known that I’d have fucked this pussy ages ago.”

“Mm,” you smiled, giddy and tired. “You’re still an asshole for hiding this room from me… now, uncuff me.”

“No.” Sevika straightened. “Let’s go for round two.”

He stalks his prey from the window. 

The house looks the same. There’s not much dust anywhere, there’s still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He can’t tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that there’s still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too. 

He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him. 

You look the same. 

A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but you’re still you. 

Even though he knows you’re not the woman he married. 

And he’s not the Miguel you married. 

But you’re still his wife. 

He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices you’re wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe he’s in a different universe. He’s finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him. 

It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to. 

And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguel’s lips are on yours. 

He meant to lead more up to it. He didn’t even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldn’t take it anymore. 

You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows you’re as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you. 

You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. It’s shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw. 

And it’s with this –– and your hands going to his shoulders –– that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you. 

The thought makes him animalistic. 

He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he can’t take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek. 

You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks you’re going to push him away. He prepares himself. 

But you don’t. 

You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you don’t move in time like you should. 

But Miguel’s forgiving. 

He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if it’s his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit. 

The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls. 

Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and it’s with this movement that you pull back. 

He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack. 

“Miguel …” you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that you’re not his wife. 

He’s instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I too much?”

Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect you’ve always had on him. 

“No. You’re never too much for me. I’ll always want you. Always.” 

And that’s the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what you mean. 

But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows. 

His body engulfs yours. 

You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguel’s legs. 

He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him. 

Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different. 

“Miguel, I don’t think we should do this. You’re not my husband, you—“

“I’m not?” He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. “Am I not your husband?” 

Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders. 

“N … No. You’re not my Miguel. You’re not the father of my child.” 

Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didn’t need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, it’s with his sharp canines. It’s not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting. 

You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and you’re quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down. 

“Don’t apologize, cariño. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.” 

His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguel’s shoulders. 

“Mig, this isn’t right, this isn’t—“ but he’s cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses. 

His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever. 

He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.” Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot. 

It’s all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him. 

And Miguel has always been determined. He’ll do anything to reach his goal. 

His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between. 

Your mouth falls open. 

Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing. 

“You still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?” He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If he’s reading you right, he’s noticing it all. There’s shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them. 

He can’t help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. “I wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.” 

He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and you’re so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are. 

He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But it’s beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but it’s there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you weren’t protected. You’d gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldn’t have happened. 

So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, it’s soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.

He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you. 

Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way he’s attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand. 

It’s thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguel’s eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt. 

Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft “wow” and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. It’s amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more. 

Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them. 

He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he can’t help it. He’s entertained, thinking of how you’re finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it. 

He doesn’t know if you’re aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them. 

Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles. 

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.” 

You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it. 

You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch. 

He takes it as his go ahead. 

He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him. 

Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. There’s no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how you’d always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldn’t be home, and when he’d comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom. 

Miguel doesn’t realize it, but he’s gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs. 

The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you won’t close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. He’s holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesn’t snarl. 

“Baby, just close your legs a little, let me–” but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two. 

A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguel’s not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart. 

He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if he’s just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt. 

Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you. 

Miguel barely realizes that it’s happening, but suddenly he’s leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you. 

You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously. 

Miguel’s sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth would’ve been a whimper if he hadn’t decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit. 

It’s slow, a little torturous on his end, but it’s worth it with the reaction you give him. 

Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time. 

How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel. 

He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale. 

What follows is Miguel O’hara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguel’s saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area. 

This isn’t his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he can’t get enough. He’s like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someone’s waiting to take it away from him. 

Briefly, he’s reminded that someone could take this all away. He can’t stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldn’t be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing he’s displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires. 

Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguel’s right back in it. 

He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending. 

A little gasp comes from you. “Fuck,” you whisper, and Miguel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.

It’s a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave. 

“Not used to this, are you? Your little fingers haven’t been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.” 

Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more. 

You don’t say anything, but Miguel’s fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, they’re massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasn’t forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure. 

It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils. 

He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there. 

“That’s it. There it is. ‘S all the same.” 

He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite. 

“Mig, Miguel, please, I … I’m, it’s all…” You’re saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He can’t tell if you’re begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to. 

Not with the way you’re so obviously close. 

One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguel’s wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist. 

“Don’t know how you’re gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. ‘M gonna split you open.” The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth. 

Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re practically intelligible when you say, “‘M close.” 

It’s like Miguel’s been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight. 

He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers. 

He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and he’s encouraging you. 

Not even a few moments later Miguel’s fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that you’re clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time you’ll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy. 

You’re barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before you’re looking over at him. 

He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider. 

But when his sweats are on the floor, and he’s stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs. 

He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” A phrase he’s uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response. 

Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that it’s really been a while since you’ve had your Miguel. 

When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway. 

Miguel nods. “Come on, don’t be shy.” 

Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic. 

“There you go.” His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him. 

The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath. 

He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and there’s nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes. 

So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip. 

Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguel’s cock, feeling him up, working him slowly. 

It feels nice. But it’s not nearly enough. 

Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants. 

Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free. 

Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him. 

He can already predict what you’re going to say before you go. 

“Miguel. It’s not gonna fit.”

The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail. 

His head shakes. “It’ll fit, amor. I’ll make sure it fits.” 

He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you. 

But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful. 

You’re clenched tight, it’s showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasn’t been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and he’s sure that he’s out of practice, but it works.

Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target. 

There’s an unspoken agreement for him to proceed. 

So he does. 

You’re tight. Miguel knew you would be, but it’s still slightly unexpected. He can’t help but hiss as the head starts to breach. You’re tight. 

“Baby. Let me in. Breathe.”

You try to do so, but it’s like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push. 

It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, it’s only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change. 

He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more. 

He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in. 

They’re intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks it’s working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles. 

It’s impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him. 

Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all. 

So he does. He takes what he wants. 

He takes what he deserves. 

His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguel’s hands. 

He doesn’t let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts. 

He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. It’s something the you that belongs to him would’ve done, and there’s a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now. 

Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. It’s unfiltered, an accident, but it’s real and raw. 

His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. He’s hurt you. He’s done the thing he swore he never would. 

You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesn’t see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him. 

You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion. 

Yet there’s nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguel’s eyes. 

He’s sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference. 

He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however he’d like. 

But you’ve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need. 

Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a “hng”, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response. 

“Acting like you’ve never been fucked like this before.” His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.

“Maybe you haven’t. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know that’s not your purpose. You’re wasting your potential, honey. This is what you’re made for.” He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply. 

“Made to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?” You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper. 

He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until it’s second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussy’s too tight. Hasn’t had a big cock to fill it in a while. But that’s alright, we can train her. She’ll be as good as new in no time, yeah?” 

It seems he’s fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, you’re a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesn’t bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle. 

Miguel’s ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him. 

In his mind, there’s no greater honor. 

Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body. 

He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders. 

He’s bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows what’s best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another. 

He knows you need another. 

So he continues. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts. 

“None of that, baby. Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this way.” It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together. 

Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. “I said: Look at me.” 

You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling. 

“There you go. That’s it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now give me another. Just one more, my love.” 

He’s so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. There’s possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguel’s cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time. 

Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder. 

“C’mon, baby. When you’re ready, just let go for me.” 

He’s close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.

His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo. 

“There we go. There we––” His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and he’s shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesn’t think about how he’ll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling. 

The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. It’s not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing. 

You’re silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state. 

You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes. 

You’re already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring. 

“I’m glad you came back to me,” you say, voice earnest and honest. 

now you’re here, forced to run. you aren’t sure if you can even call this running. what, with your tripping toes, and hair array in front of your face. you were barely making it past the trees, your breathing, one out of a horror movie. then a twig snaps. no. please no. you try to quicken. there’s ruffles of fallen leaves.

he wants you to hear him. that much is clear. you don’t mean for your hands to shake, but at this point your body is on it's own path. you stumble, palms hitting against the ground as you groan, chest still heaving. you’re covered in dirt, clothes far from a quick wash. you try to stand, hopefully run again, but you know it’s too late.

reaching a large tree, you hit back against it, pressing your fist against your cracked lips to drown out the sounds of pain threatening to spill. then it’s silent. the only sounds being the whispering wind, and a possible rush of a faraway lake. the bark scratches at your back but you stay still. scared probably isn’t the best suited word here. you were terrified.

you pressed further against the tree, hoping that it’ll just swallow you whole. “you don’t have to run...” you freeze at the voice. because you had been running from a monster, something that had claws and fangs, and distinct red eyes. not a man. your brows furrow, as your hand fists the dirt. “you’re probably scared.” his voice is…comforting, and you can’t help but let your breathing slow.

could he possibly help you? does he know about the monster in these woods? you swallow down saliva, your throat dry. “who…who are you?” you ask almost a fraction too quiet. but he catches it, his steps nearing you now. “miguel…” he answers softly. closer, closer, closer. still fisting the dirt you manage to stand up against the tree. “are you running from the monster too?”

“i think the monster might have gone in the other direction.” he says. and oh now he’s close, his low voice reverberating through you. “i think…” he continues, and your breathing catches as his breath tickles your ear. you swiftly spin to face him, and your heart stops. because in the moonlit woods his most prominent features stand out. red eyes. he smiles. fangs… “i think that you are far too trusting for your own good, mi querida.”

you begin to shake your head. “no…”

he steps closer. you stumble back. he’s grabbing your shirt and tugging you forward. you try to escape. his arm loops around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his lips hitting your ear. “shh shh…you’re okay.”

“please, i—“ you choke out the words as you try to get your hands free. hit him. anywhere. but he has you trapped, arms locked tight against your body like a vice. his hand moves to stroke at your hair, his mouth open against your ear. a shiver runs down your spine at the claws you feel. he chuckles, low and mocking, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “i’m quite a offended actually. you think i’m a monster?” but his words don’t show sadness they show taunting.

“you are.” you try to hiss out the words, but they do you no good. “hm…” miguel hums, his tongue poking out against his lower lip, dragging smoothly against his fangs. then he leans closer. “why is that? is it my claws?” he raises his hand higher up your face, the tip of his claw tracing the sensitive skin of your cheek. he drags it down leaving a fading red mark, until he reaches your lips. he pulls on your lower lip, forcing your mouth to open.

your frozen, completely unsure on what to do and how to do it. his eyes seem to be fixated on your mouth now, his claw actually sinking in, past your lips and all you can do is let him. “you know, I’ve never found humans to be…pretty in any sense.” he says, now finding your tongue with his claw, stroking it slowly. “you’re all such a…disappointing species.” you want to gulp, but you can’t with his finger inside your mouth. though your subconscious doesn’t seem notice the intrusion as it forces you to swallow, your lips wrapping around his finger. miguel’s eyes immediately darken.

“but you…you’re at least a little prettier than them.” he keeps his low, taunting tone, as he then inserts another finger. “suck it.” he demands. your eyes slightly widen, and when you don’t immediately obey he pushes his two fingers further into your mouth making you nearly choke, as you wrap your lips back around them. you slowly, hesitantly begin to suck, swirling around his claws with your tongue.

“that’s it...” he murmurs, completely focused on your mouths movements. “yeah…maybe you aren’t so bad. much better than them.” the barely audible hitch in your breath catches his attention as his lips curve up, slightly pulling his now dripping fingers out of your mouth. “my friends—what—what did you do to them?”

miguel, ever so calm, tilts your head up again and with his wet fingers he begins to trace them on your collarbone. “not much.” he replies evenly, as he keeps his gaze on the invisible patterns he's drawing. “no—please tell me they’re alright.”

“they trespassed—“ but you cut him off, ignoring the cold feel of your spit gliding further down your chest. “i trespassed. i was one of the first.”

“oh it was easy to tell who was stickler and who wanted to actually trespass. you, mi querida, are far too innocent to want to invade someone’s home.” he says, tugging you closer, as his hand skips over your shirt to reach the hem, sinking up and underneath, making your back unintentionally arch. you had no bra on. it was late. you were planning to go to bed when your friends had proposed this now awful idea.

"your friends are the ones i dislike." miguel says, grazing a claw along the underside of your breast. you can't help but let your lips quiver, tears welling, as you force them down. "but don't worry, i won't spare the details." he says, still stroking your hair with his other hand. "i wouldn't want to taint what's already so...sweet." at that he engulfs one of your breasts with his hand, large and demanding.

"p-please." you try, still stuck in his grip. "please what?" he taunts, flicking your nipple with his claw making your body jolt. he hums at the reaction pinching and rolling the sensitive part of you between his fingers. "how sweet are you, i wonder..." he leans closer, now licking at where the wet trail, from his fingers still lingers. "ay, cariño...you taste lovely."

you're shaking, body already exhausted from the running. "are you going to...to kill me?" you ask shakily. for some reason that seemed like the only plausible outcome right now. your adrenaline is running out, and all you can feel is his touch and fear. you don't mean to sound so weak, but in this position it's clear who takes the role as prey. "aw." he coos, now pulling at your hair to force your head higher up, as his mouth nears yours. he’s switched to your other breast, pulling, pinching, rolling. fondling almost tenderly, experimentally. "kill you? now why would i do that?"

his breath is now practically in your own open mouth, as you try to hold down unwanted sounds threatening to surface. "why would i kill someone so sweet...so pretty." he says in an almost low whisper. then as his lips graze yours. "i've already had that kind of fun with your friends." you gasp as he suddenly lifts you up by your thighs, your back now pressed against the tree you were seeking shelter from, as he forcefully widens your legs, his groin pressed right up against you finally making a small sound leave your lips.

he chuckles, his claws digging into your skin. you were wearing stupid loose shorts. again, thinking it was only a small night walk, and that you'd be heading to bed soon. he easily bypasses your shorts, his claw pulling your panties to the side. you didn't hear the unzip of his pants, until you felt his cock running right up your slit, making you choke a gasp. "what—"

"shh, cariño...“ he hums, not caring for your shock or your pleas. “my my, aren’t you soaked?" he continues to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, forcing mixes of whimpers and whines to fall from your lips. "yeah, look at you, all wet f'me." he whispered this more to himself, as he harshly pushes you further up against the tree, completely sinking into you, stretching you, and making you exclaim in a mix of pain and something else. "mierda..." he mumbles, licking at his lower lip as he thrusts into you.

"oh—" you whine, head hitting back against the tree, as your body moves with his thrusts. animalistic as he groans. "i knew you'd feel so—so tight—carajo..." his grip on your thighs has tightened, most definitely leaving marks. your hands are gripped onto the material of his shirt by his shoulders, your body at complete mercy to him.

then his mouth is on yours. hungry, demanding, and full of authority. with his harsh thrusts, and protruding tongue you can barely think. you have to kiss back, it's all you can do. your lips wrap around his lips as you join his tongue. miguel briefly opens his mouth against yours. "atta girl…mm, what an obedient sweetheart i found."

before he's pushing harder against your mouth, devouring your tongue. then your body jolts against his cock, still working in and out of you. he had bit you. your lower lip now smeared in your own blood, as your breathing stutters. while his claw moves down between you to flick and fiddle with your clit, his tongue drags right across your lower lip, tasting your blood with an audible groan.

he doesn't hold back, ramming up into you, as he widens your legs impossibly until they ache. the pressure building in your stomach is almost taking over your brain, as you moan and whimper. "you're—you're too big—too much—" you manage in chokes. he makes a point to fill you up entirely, nearly making you scream. "come on now, take all of it f'me, dulce chica, that's it...you're doing so well...so well for a so called monster. was that what you called me?" he knows the answer. and as you bounce against his cock, lewd sounds drowning out both your ears, you mutter a "y-yes.”

"hm." he hums, now nipping at the skin on your neck and chest, almost glistening in the moonlight with a mix of spit and sweat. "good." he murmurs into your skin. and as you near the precipice of your release, hands now discolored from how tight you’ve been gripping him, you hear him mutter right into your ear. "don't go looking for your friends now...they won’t help you."

"no—i—" but you can barely speak. "keep bouncing on my cock." he all but demands as you had slowed in fear. and with the help of his grip on your thighs, he ruts into you, his own release now close. and when he reaches his high, muttering curses in spanish, your body is exhausted to the limit. and as he places your shaky legs back down onto the ground, a cruel glint in his eyes, he whispers. "if you don't want me to taste more of you...i’d suggest you run."

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once you reach mr. o’hara’s office door, you straighten your spine even more and knock. there’s a few moments of silence before you hear the gruff and clearly annoyed voice of your boss. “come in.” you push open the door, careful to de-crinkle the letter as you brush at your skirt.

the moment you stepped inside and shut the door, miguel’s eyes darted up. “finished already?” he leans back in his chair, his gaze flittering across your clothes, your hand readjusting your pencil skirt. “um, no sir, the papers are underway. i just came in to give you this.” you walk over, your heels clicking along the shining floor as you offer the letter to miguel.

miguel grabs it off you, his gaze only then leaving your form to look at the letter. he pauses once he catches the first word, typed out in bold. ‘resignation’. “what’s this?” his voice is still as cold as always, as you paste on a smile. “a resignation letter, sir.”

“why are giving this to me?” he asks to which your brows furrow. “because i mean to…resign.” you thought it was obvious. you had thought he’d be secretly jumping for joy at the prospect of you leaving. with his scolding and hard stares you didn’t think he liked you very much. “again, let me ask, why are you giving me this?” what you didn’t know was that the first feeling miguel got at the thought of you leaving was one of distaste, a sourness in his mouth, along with a pit in his stomach. leaving? you were leaving?

“i’ve loved working here, it’s given me many opportunities—“ you begin in that polite tone of yours but miguel cuts in. “get to the point.” you press your lips together as you hold back from retorting something you’ll regret. “i’ve been offered a job.” you say a little more bluntly. miguel stares at you, that coldness in his eyes actually sending shivers down your spine. “you have a job.” he remarks, his tone still indifferent.

“i don’t think this job is fit for me anymore.” you say. “and what makes you think that you can decide that?” his question has you pausing, mouth opening before closing again. “i’m sorry?”

miguel stands, walking around his desk slowly as you twist your body to face him. “do i have to keep repeating myself, miss y/l/n?” you slightly shuffle back as subtly as possible as he nears, head tilted down at you. “i don’t understand the question, sir.”

“then what makes you think that you could do well anywhere else?” miguel’s tone has turned a little harsher, as he’s neared. “that’s a bit out of line—“ but miguel cuts you off. “i’m your boss. don’t you want your boss to be honest? because you and i both know that this is the only company you’re fit to work at.”

you stare up at him, really holding back, as you grind your teeth. “you may have forgotten, or plainly not heard me,” you mutter out, more quietly. “but i got offered the job. that means someone is wanting me to be a part of their company.” you say, sparing a look to the side, pretending to be glancing out the window, when in reality you only wanted to get away from his sharp gaze.

but miguel isn’t having that, grabbing your chin, as he redirects your focus back onto him. your breathing hitches a fraction at the now close proximity between you both. “and who is this someone?” he practically sneers. you go to step back, but he tightens his hold on your chin. “no no, come on. it’d be rude not to share with your boss.”

“you aren’t my boss anymore—“

“you’re my employee, miss y/l/n. even by your little letter you still have a month here.” he speaks lowly. you hate the fact that he’s right. your contract states that you must give notice a month before hand. “but you aren’t leaving, miss y/l/n.”

“you can’t decide that, sir.” you say evenly, grabbing his wrist, and pulling his hand away. miguel raises his brows, before nodding, looking to the side with a scoff, his tongue poking out against his cheek. “is that right?”

“yes.” you say, finally creating some distance. “you seem unnaturally confident today.” he remarks. “what happened to that timid little thing who brought me coffee? don’t tell me you’re feeling all empowered now since you think you’re leaving?” throughout his words he’s begun to step closer. your backwards steps are matching his, as he nears you again. “because that’s a little pathetic if you feel confident about getting away from here. from me.” your lower back hits his desk, making you jolt a fraction. “is that it? you’re happy about getting away from me?”

“this has nothing to do with you…sir.” you say, trying your best to keep your voice even and professional. “it doesn’t? oh, well that’s good.” he remarks, making your face contort in further confusion. “i wouldn’t want you going off and babbling on about what a terrible boss i am.” he’s neared you, body practically pressed up against yours as you fold your lips behind your teeth. “mr. o’hara—“

“no, tell me. is it something i did?” usually one sounds apologetic when they say this, but miguel sounds the farthest from it, almost challenging you to speak against him. you stay silent, darting your gaze around and towards the door. miguel watches you closely, before he leans in towards your ear. “or is it something i didn’t do?” his almost intimate tone has your back stiffening. “because you know you can always talk to me.” his overly sweet and almost mocking tone has you gulping. “i want to treat my employees with…care, don’t i?”

“sir, again, this isn’t about you—“ but he again cuts you off. “but it is.” he remarks, his expression away from your line of sight and far too close to your neck. he’s eyeing your skin, down your throat and towards your beating pulse. “miss y/l/n, let me repeat myself.” his breath hits your neck, as he leans back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you aren’t leaving.”

“…why?” exasperation has finally cracked through your tone, as he leans back to meet your gaze. “why?” he muses. then you’re suddenly being flipped around, body pressed right up against his desk as he bends you over, your chest squished against the expensive glass. your eyes grow wide when you feel his knee nudge your legs apart. a shiver runs down your spine as the cool air hits your closed pussy, the stretch of your skirt gaining miguel’s attention. you try to speak, to protest, but no words seem to surface, especially as miguel’s hands push your pencil skirt farther up, revealing your ass and panties to him.

“because you, miss y/l/n, have always been so good to me. so diligent. why would i settle for someone else when i have my perfect little assistant right here in front of me.” he continues, humming to himself as he strokes and manhandles your ass and thighs. “you can’t stop me from resigning.” you manage as you try to flip back around, but his grip on you makes it impossible. “i can do is a lot worse then that, querida.”

he then slips his hands into your panties making you squirm as he pushes them to the side. “you really think that you’d do well anywhere else? i take good care of you here, don’t i?” you can hear the zip and clank of his belt as you breath harder. “no other boss would treat you this well.” miguel pulls out his cock, pumping it a few times, but it’s already hard, his arousal having begun the moment you stepped into his office. “treat me well? you treat me horribly.” you hiss back, before you gasp as he pulls your panties up creating a string to rub right over your clit. you grip his desk, knuckles turning lighter.

“no, i’ve treated you far too well, because usually the moment that i want to fuck someone i do. i don’t care if it’s a work setting, hell, i don’t even care if someone sees. i’ve showed you restraint, because believe it or not you’ve actually been a rather helpful assistant to me. wouldn’t wanna scare you off. but you know what?” miguel pulls your panties to the side again, as he then, brushes the head of his cock through your wetness, his breathing heavier. “mierda…” he mutters out, eyes entirely focused on the way your pussy lips are hugging him, as your breathing stutters.

he leans over your body, grabbing your hair and pulling you back into him, a small groan leaving him as your ass pushes into him completely. “no matter what you did you always made me want to touch these pretty pussy lips of yours. and now…” he slips his hand down between you, widening your pussy lips with his fingers as he forces your back to arch even more. “now you’re gonna let me slip my cock inside you, and let me fuck you into my desk. you’re gonna let me do that, right, miss y/l/n?” his tone is demanding and full of manipulation, no room left for a ‘no’. “feel free to yell, call for help, because if you do just know that that little company who asked for you suddenly won’t be taking any new employees. along with every other business in the state.”

you gasp as he sinks into you, harshly pushing your skirt further up your body as his hips begin to move, thrusting into you. his hands find your back and neck, pushing you further down onto the desk. “widen your legs, querida…come on now…” he breathes, as his cock thrusts in and out of you, giving you no room to adjust to his size, as small hiccups and whimpers leave your lips, your body bouncing along the desk. “that’s it—“ he groans out, thrusting harder into you as your legs shake.

he scoffs as he watches your ass jiggle, slapping right up against his happy trail. his large hand squeezes and plays with a cheek, slapping occasionally just to hear you gasp for more breath. “can’t believe you came in here with that stupid letter.” each word is pronounced roughly with each thrust to match. “you really think that you can just leave? aw, my sweet girl, you’re a little stupid aren’t you?” he’s licking his lower lip, head slightly tilted back as he grips you harder, pulling you back onto his cock as all you can do is babble and murmur, your eyes threatening to roll back.

“who came up to you?” he breathlessly asks, switching the pace slower just to make you squirm. “hm? who offered you the job?” he tugs harshly on your hair when you don’t answer. “m-mr. dalton.” you manage, even though your throat is dry. “mr. dalton.” miguel repeats, as he lets your hair go, spreading your ass cheeks with both his hands, just to see the way his cock is sliding in and out of your dripping wet hole. “from that northside company?” he rhetorically asks. “i guess I’ll have to pay him a little visit then, won’t i?”

miguel leans over you, lips, tongue and teeth trailing your spine up to the back of your neck, as he continues to fuck you into his desk. “i’ll just have to let him know how unavailable you are. yeah…how you just love working for me far too much to leave.” he chuckles darkly into your skin, as your mouth falls open, your orgasm fast approaching. miguel’s hand slips around your thigh, as he rubs at your clit, making your grip tighten, your pants and heavy breathes fogging up his glass desk.

when miguel reached his orgasm, he barely let you finish before he was flipping you around and pushing you to sit on his desk, legs spread. you’ve barely caught your breath before miguel’s lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, your high heel rested on his back as his warm breath hits your sensitive pussy. oh he wanted so much more, as he whispered onto your clit. “tomorrow come in early. and that’s an order miss y/l/n.”

taglist. @mummatiri @buttertubz @nayylas @cultrise @miguelsslut @eddieslooneymoonie @duckyduck25 @chysalxsm @lusttszn @lemonlotem @siidmm @Horror_sl*t @urmotherlvr @carlixa @jackdawwaquarium @vampsired @kaitoliu @diyag @shadowarchon @zabac69 @alucards-no-life-queen @certified-stargirl @andrealuvsmiguel @freehentai @vic0dyn @raexy @awniie @slut4drudy @ramiiroll @briefrebelfanalmond @kuujo @LittleAbyssGirl @oyaapeach @matchayuii @zaunsin @pinkghost222 @kodzuminx @iite-cool @urabotlmao @missbeverlyhills @winteringfalls @rostarblog @chocolatechiipsworld @mcinava @br0ken--ruby @burningpeace @myrcella-maximoff @shadowarchon @coffie-witch @die4niyahhh @oilfics @hawunts @i-do-be-vibinn @2099rk @notasadgirlipromise @Littlemissdilfloverr @killvaswrld @3xclusive_y0ni ( ‘m so sorry i couldn’t find ur blog :( )

it started out small. little things that go unnoticed, like your winter gloves. it's not like you needed them in the summer. but it gradually grew to more...intimate things, like your panties or bras. hobie knew it was wrong, knew how disgusting his actions were. but when you left a basket full of your clothes, your panties resting on the top, how was he supposed to just ignore them? morals seem to fly out the window when you were involved. any excuse to get close to you. even if it's only close to the things you wear.

and now as he leant back against his headboard, thoughts of you already swarming his head, he grabbed out the thin material of your panties from his drawer. it was wrong. it was. but oh...god, did it feel so good. hobie's mouth opens in a slight pant as he begins to stroke his already aching cock with your panties, the fabric rubbing over him just how he liked it. he imagined that it was you, legs spread around his waist as you moved your clothed cunt up and down his cock. he also imagined the sounds you'd make, breathless, raw, and desperate. just as desperate as his fisted hand is acting now. up, down. up, downupdown.

the thought of you was almost like a drug to him. with his sweating forehead, he tried to quieten his groans. you were just down the hall, and here he was jerking off to the thought of you dry humping him. "oh, fuck—yeah—jus' like tha' luv, uh huh—doing so good f'me…" his murmurs of this and your name whispered into the dark of his room. to him you were already his. to him you did feel he same. it was only a matter of time...right?

it was the next evening when he walked into your shared apartment. he knew that you would be busy studying. most likely in the lounge. so, as he locks the front door, slipping his jacket off before he made his way there, preparing to make a sneering comment at how you're probably watching the tv instead of writing your assignment. but instead he stops, his words dying off almost immediately. there you were, head rested back against the couch, as your sleeping form was partially laid out on the carpet. but what made his breathing hitch was the way that your large jumper had ridden up way past mid thigh, now revealing your panties to him.

they were simple cotton. he shouldn't be reacting the way he is. but he just can't help it, because the sight of your bare thighs and almost seeable pussy make his pants strain uncomfortably. "y/n?" he calls your name, walking closer. if you would just wake up then maybe you can fix yourself, force him to look away. because with you being this oblivious, this vulnerable...he doesn't know how much longer he can go without touching you. it's been months since you two have moved in together. months of heavy restraint from hobie, and oblivious smiles from you. which too, have made his cock swell. practically anything you do will make him long for one chance to feel you.

and again, here you are. partially naked, asleep...unaware of hobie's nearing form and heated gaze. he reaches down, picking you up, as he places you back against the couch, resting your head on a decorative pillow. "did ya really have to fall asleep here?" he mutters to himself. restraint, restraint, restraint.

he brushes away a few fallen locks of your hair, watching as your face slightly twitches as you shift. though you stay asleep, oblivious to hobie's moving body. he had meant to back away, maybe get his frustrations out on an item of yours, but with your shifting, your panties are now on full display, and hobie can't seem to lift his hands away from their placement on either side of your shoulders. his breath is hitting your face, as he glances down at your bare legs, and the little bow that's stitched into the top of your panties. restraint, restraint...restraint.

his knee now rests between your legs, just for support. but slowly his leg begins to move up. and with your slightly restless shifting you brush your clothed pussy right up against the material of his jeans. hobie's lips part as he watches your expression shift. a slight furrow in your brows now. almost intrigued hobie pushes his knee further up, until your pussy was flush against it. a small sound escapes you as you shift again, this time your face morphing to one of pleasure. oh god, hobie wishes you hadn't reacted that way, because how was he supposed to back away and retreat to his room now?

his hands trail down to hold at your hips as he then begins to slowly move you up and down his upright knee. more soft and small sounds fall from your lips only egging him on. your subconscious likes this, which loosely means you do too...right? "yeah..." hobie mutters, looking down at the way your pantie-covered pussy slides up and down his knee. "...jus' like that...that feel good?..." hobie nearly nods to himself, his mind dizzying at the presented circumstance.

one more murmured sound leaves your lips and hobie has lost all, and whatever restraint was left as he grabs your thighs, widening them as he settles himself on top of you. once his clothed cock presses against your inviting pussy his breathing turns shallow. "fuck, y/n—" he mutters, licking his lips. "...'m sorry..." then he slowly begins to grind into you, mouth now open as his eyelids flutter in pleasure. his hands still hold onto your hips as he almost drives you up into him more. his breath is now by your neck, as he gets himself off on you. "feel so good...god, much better then ya clothes...i can feel how warm ya ‘re..." he's muttering into your neck. he thanks anarchy that you're a known deep sleeper. your studies must have really tired you out.

"i bet ya so wet, luv...ya feel like ya are..." he then slips two fingers into your panties, slightly glancing down as he runs them right up your slit, under your panties, nearly mesmerised by the feel of how much arousal is coating the pads of his fingertips. "'m only doin' ya a favour, babe....ya clearly need some relief." he's trying to find excuses for his actions because he knows that the one truth is that he's a just horny bastard who has a crush on his roommate.

you had begun to wake up at his ministrations, pleasure almost hitting you full force. whimpers bubble up in your throat as your eyes flutter open. hobie noticed almost instantly as he then pushes two fingers inside you, making you choke a gasp. he's desperate as he fingers you. in, out. in, out. you're soaked around them as he curls making the bubbling whimpers spill out, your mouth opening. "h-hobie—"

"shh." hobie leans back down to your neck, placing almost sweet kisses along your throat and by your ear. "it's okay, i jus' wanna make you feel good…" his tone is desperate but persuasive as he fingers you faster, deeper, making your head hit back, your legs nearly shaking. "fuck you feel so tight, y/n...mm you smell so good. jus' lemme...lemme keep touching you...please, luv." the provocative sound of his fingers going in and out of you and your unavoidable moans are making your head spin, barely any thoughts beside his fingers occupying your brain.

"hobie..." you murmur. "oh, fuck—say tha' again. say my name again. come on, you sound so pretty saying it." god his words are utterly endearing, almost deceptive, as you near your high. "jus' lemme get a taste of you. jus' one taste." he thrusts his fingers harder into you, finally getting your legs to shake as you moan out the only word swirling around your brain. hobie. hobie, hobie, hobie. "f-fuck—" your mouth opens in a moan as the pleasure hits you, hobie's fingers still working in and out of you as you nearly cry out.

once your high begins to descent, your chest heaving, hobie's fingers still haven't let up. he's almost searching everywhere inside you, until he finally slows as your breathing stutters. he draws his fingers out, his own breathing mismatched as he brings his cum covered fingers to his lips. he sucks your remains off, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing. "huh...i thought that would have helped." he mutters. "what?" you ask, staring up at him. he shifts his gaze back to you. "getting to try. at least once..." he licks his lips, pushing slightly at your thigh to reveal your ruined panties to him. "i think it's only made it worse."

"made...what worse?" you still don't really know what has happened, just that your body is buzzing. leaning closer to you, he traces your lower lip with his still slightly wet finger as he mutters. "i just wanna keep touching you, luv.” he leans closer, his lips ghosting yours.

taglist. @spiderst4rgirl @buttertubz @nayylas @cultrise @miguelsslut @eddieslooneymoonie @duckyduck25 @chysalxsm @lusttszn @lemonlotem @siidmm @Horror_sl*t @urmotherlvr @carlixa @jackdawwaquarium @vampsired @kaitoliu @diyag @shadowarchon @zabac69 @alucards-no-life-queen @certified-stargirl @andrealuvsmiguel @freehentai @vic0dyn @raexy @awniie @slut4drudy @ramiiroll @briefrebelfanalmond @kuujo @LittleAbyssGirl @oyaapeach @matchayuii @zaunsin @pinkghost222 @kodzuminx @iite-cool @urabotlmao @missbeverlyhills @winteringfalls @rostarblog @chocolatechiipsworld @mcinava @br0ken--ruby @burningpeace @myrcella-maximoff @shadowarchon @coffie-witch @die4niyahhh @oilfics @hawunts

ABOUT ;; this is vv self indulgent aosmaka. Colombian Miguel once more. thank you to @lovinglyselfish for the translations as well aosnwk, bless you, this is a mini gift to you MMMMWAH!!! Update I could've done a bit better on this OANSOWK ANYHOO

tags - strong language, inexperienced!reader, size difference, cum eating, playing on a slight comment etc, switching between languages (Spanish), oral sex, daddy kink, soft Dom!Miguel, encouragement, praise kink, small degradation here and there, Dom/sub dynamics, slight overstimulation, cock bulge, teasing, slight biting and nipping the skin etc.

by justwolosers 2023. do not repost, steal or copy.

translation ;; I've got you (te tengo), there we go (ahi vamos corazon), you're doing so well (estas haciendo tan bien), there's no rush (no hay prisa), eso es (that's it), solo deja qué pase (just let it happen), idiota (idiota), no me importa ir lento (I'm willing to wait as long as we need, I think) etc

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST OR WEEK FOUR OVERVIEW.

NB VERS | MALE VERS

MIGUEL X FEMALE READER ;;

It’s just short of dusk. The sun is still peaking over the horizon, occasionally blotted out by heavy cloud cover. You’re leaning on his kitchen counter, weight shifted onto one leg, dressed in his old pajamas - of course, incredibly loose fitting on your stature compared to his own - the sleeves overhanging your hands, clasping around a mug of coffee.

He’s dressed comfortably in nothing but a baggy tank top and sweats, just bearable in the Indian Summer. Staying over had become a staple in the early days of your friendship, something that had been insisted on, on your part; but even now, in the now early days of your relationship, it flowed easily. As if nothing had changed between the pair of you - something Miguel was grateful for.

But, tonight, you’re awkwardly fidgeting about, readjusting your grasp on your mug every so often, avoiding his gaze.

“I know- I know we’ve, uh, been… God, this is so awkward… We’ve kissed and, uh, y’know- ”

“I know?” Miguel can’t stop the smile playing on his lips. He knows very well what you’re referring to.

He’s more than aware that you didn’t have the most sexual experience; the heavy petting being the most you’d progressed to with him, last night being a prime example. How you’d been atop his lap, thighs secure around his waist, hands clenching his shirt. It had been nothing more than kissing, light and chaste at the start, into something heavier, raw; you, whimpering into his mouth and shyly rocking your hips back and forth on his thigh, needy and pliant.

You’d always been naturally sensitive, and the lack of experience, stroked a possessive streak in him, something Miguel wasn’t aware he had. To have you to himself in such a way - the belonging. It made his gums ache at the thought of it, fangs teetering on the edge of popping out. You were his.

You’re pouting. Almost. (Any mention of the sort would have you vehemently denying it).

“Yes, you know. What we did. Last night.”

A pause.

“I want to suck you off.”

He blinks, his own cup of tea just short of his lips.

“No me importa ir lento; we can take all the time you need,” it’s affectionate, fond, “I’m willing to wait for you, idiota.”

“I know, I just… I’ve been thinking about it - if I’m honest I can’t stop thinking about it. I’d like to try? Please.”

It’s uncertain, the sentence tilting up into more of a question than a confirmation.

“I want you in my mouth.”

Eyes softening, he leans over, gently taking your mug as well as his own, placing them into the sink.

“C’mere then, I’ll show you.”

Slipping his large palm into your own, Miguel leads you into the living room, towards the couch; he sits himself down and spreads his clothed thighs apart, looking up towards you as he guides you between his legs. It’s incredibly endearing how out of place you look, following his lead obediently - he’d never admit that though. But, he would admit the levels of trust you have in him, means more than you could ever know, something he’d always be thankful of.

Blinking, already going a little hazy, you come back into yourself, giggling a little bit out of nervousness before lowering onto your knees on the plush carpet. Hands tentatively settling on his thighs, his own slide across yours in reassurance.

“Anytime you need to stop, you let me know, okay?”

Nodding eagerly in response, you offer a soft, “Always. Thank you.”

A pause.

“...Can I?”

“Course, baby.”

The term of endearment naturally rolls off of his tongue, and you reflexively look down for a moment, shy and sweet. It was something you were still getting used to. Pushing your sleeves up, your hands, albeit shaky, reach up and undo the strings of his sweats, and there’s already a slight damp patch from pre.

Tugging around the cinched fabric and pulling it downwards, towards the middle of his thighs, thin strands of pre bead and break, stretching away from the fabric lewdly. Miguel can already pick up on the exact moment your breathing pattern changes, stuttering at the sight - he’s by no means small. That’s not to say as a brag either. Groaning in relief at the lack of restrictive fabric, his cock slaps up against his abdomen, jutting upwards.

Your hands hover in the air, unsure.

And Miguel glances down, licking over his teeth.

“Te tengo. I mean it. Do what comes naturally.”

You’re, of course, hesitant at first, and opt to nuzzle into the bare skin of his thigh. Pressing soft kisses over the muscle before making your way up to his dick, fat and girthy, you continue to leave chaste kitten licks across the heated skin - a few of the prominent veins running alongside the shaft throbbing at the contact, before finally guiding the swollen tip into your mouth to the best of your ability. It just about manages to fit, lips struggling to accommodate around the girth and chubby cheeks bulging out from the size.

Miguel can barely choke back the groan threatening to spill out, your tongue just lapping at his slit, no doubt licking up the stream of pre dribbling out. It’s warm, incredibly so, gummy walls, soft and tight, cheeks hollow out around his glans.

"That's it, fuck. Solo deja qué pase."

You babble around him, lost in it entirely; and gradually draw his cock out of your mouth, resting on your bottom lip, peppering kisses along the glans once again, urging out more pre. The motions stop and start as you get used to a rhythm, a little unsteady at times.

Hollowing out your cheeks, Miguel can't help but hook a large, calloused thumb in the corner of your mouth as you continue to suck, tugging it back out with a filthy pop and a gush of more drool down your chin. Cock drunk. And something, maybe it's in the way it comes out, hums around him once again, almost like a drawn out-

But you shove more of him inside your mouth suddenly, ignoring the lazily pace of his large hand easing you back and forth along his dick. His slit now brushing up against your uvula, nudging it and it's clear you've overestimated yourself, whining and tearing up at the size, eyes glassy.

"Easy, easy. No hay prisa," tightening his grip on the back of your scalp, Miguel gently tugs you off his cock, coming of with a obscene schlick! and returns to massaging your hair once again, "Don't want you to hurt yourself. You don't have to take it all at once."

You're a mess, to put it lightly - pre-cum and drool glaze across your lips, now swollen from the friction, and coat the entirety of your chin. No doubt on the edge of reaching subspace, sweet and obedient; eyes blinking lazily, similar to that of a cat.

"Mierda, do you want to carry on? We can stop here-"

You abruptly let out a needy whine, pawing at him and tugging him back towards your lips, “No- no, I wanna keep going. Please. I can do it, I want to.”

And he chuckles to himself at the sight, voice raspy under his breath, "Te gusta mucho esto, no? That's cute, baby."

Eager to please.

With that, you take him back into your mouth with one hand once more, this time with a notable confidence than before. However, still sloppy, no regard or care for the way saliva pools in the seams of your lips; the whines and hiccups increasing as you take him deeper. The other hand he notes, trails down towards your pussy, it's clear you're wearing nothing underneath your sweatpants, the chubby outline of your lips hugs the now damp fabric, fingers moving jerkily. Hips rutting back and forth against the carpet.

Shit.

It's leisurely; the pace maintained is nothing short of content, relaxed as you keen around him, the vibrations humming through his cock. Sinking deeper and deeper into a blissed out headspace, eased by the soft scratching across your scalp, moving occasionally back down to the nape of your neck, playing with the stray hairs there. Miguel rocks his hips upwards gently, eyes half lidded.

He wants to see you looking at him. Only at him.

"Look at me, baby."

(And you do, no matter how embarrassed you get, fidgeting about at the command, you do. You look and look and look-)

"Ahi vamos corazon, so sweet for me, mmh? Just like that. Estas haciendo tan bien."

Praise falls from his lips easily - it's easy when it comes to you, and you, mewl around his cock in response, shyly looking up at him. Eyelashes dewy and damp.

The sight of pretty eyes, glossed over and looking up like he hung the moon in the sky, like you'd do anything he'd ask of you and take it with no questions asked, has his grip on your head tightening further and Miguel is only just able to grit out a warning, jaw tight.

"Gonna be a lot, mmh- you can pull back if you, mierda, need to. Don't have to- fuck-"

Instead you grab at his waist, forcing him further into your mouth at the confession, nosing at his pubic hair in desperation, eager to taste him on your tongue. And you do.

The moment your throat bulges around his girthy cock, encompassing it in a heat like no other and hugging him in a vice grip - he can't stop it.

You swallow in earnest, not easing up whatsoever, gulping down the thick stream as much as you can, but it still proves too much. It bubbles around his cock, out the sides of his dick and you gurgle weakly. It's so much. Too much. And you're forced to pull off of his cock, the reddened tip oozing across your lips and coating your cheeks.

It's indecent, something bordering on a porno, imprinting on the back of his eyelids.

Fuck.

Still dazed and bleary eyed, you shakily lick your lips and fingertips clean, sucking up any of the excess that soaked your fingers. A small, airy whine leaves you - and he's not sure whether that's because you couldn't swallow it all.

(You did perfectly).

Swiping away at your cheek with his thumb, Miguel leans down; he pulls you in by the nape of your neck with his other hand, still secure, and kisses you deeply. He could care less about the mess it makes, he wants to taste himself on your lips - and he does. His tongue laps across the seam of your lips, into the small divots, lapping up his seed hungrily, before leaving soft kisses in the corners of your puffy lips.

A silent thank you.

"Te tengo. Always. You did so well, baby, so good. M'proud of you."

Miguel’s idea of a perfect life is simple. Him, you, and a child in a happy home. His past doesn’t howl him, and he never has to worry about anything because he’ll be satisfied. When you gushed about having essentially the same dream one day, he knew it had to be a reality. He had to make it a reality. You pregnant with his child, oh, it was perfect.

“Corazón,” he said after coming up from between your thighs after drawing out your orgasms. His arms hold your legs over his shoulders while you feel your pussy quiver from overstimulation. Your thighs slightly ache from being up on his big shoulders.

“Y-yes?” you ask almost a whisper.

“I want…” he’s not sure where to begin. “I want to make you mine forever.” You laugh a bit.

“You already do,” you answer.

“I mean, I want you to have my child,” he clarifies. “I want you to be the carrier of my child.” You’re somewhat shocked to hear this. It gives you the energy to sit up a bit.

“You do?” you ask. You can’t help but feel yourself get aroused. The idea of his cum staying in you and him getting you pregnant is…everything you could ever want. “Please,” you begin to beg. “Please fill me with your cum. I want you to breed me.” He moves your legs off his shoulders and comes up to kiss you. His fangs playfully nip at your bottom lip, showing his excitement.

His hands move to cup your breasts, his fingers circling your nipples. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close. He moves down to your neck and bites at it; you moan at the feeling of his fangs digging slightly into your skin.

“Mi-Miguel,” you moan. “You don’t have to hold yourself back for my sake.”

Hearing you say that makes him change completely. It is such a rush for him when you let him absolutely ruin you.

“Eres mi debilidad,” he says. He lifts himself up and grabs your legs. He folds them into your chest with your pussy exposed to him. “You’re still so wet even after all this?” You look away in slight embarrassment. “How adorable.” His strong arms push your thighs onto your chest, forcing you down onto the mattress.

Miguel’s expression is feral, with his teeth clamped together, showing his large fangs, and his eyes flash a dark red. He finally thrusts into you hard and doesn’t give you time to readjust to his length and girth. You cry out from his actions and grip the bedsheets under you.

“From now on,” Miguel starts. “You will be my cumdump. Nothing will be going to waste when I’m done.” He thrusts in and out of you at a fast pace. His hips snap against yours while his cock hits your cervix, brushing past your sensitive spot. His towering frame is hunched over to give your pussy all his attention. His forehead dusted with sweat, and his hair slicked back; god, he’s never looked sexier. He grunts loudly as his cock doesn’t waver from its attack on your pussy.

“Gonna fill this pussy up so good,” he grunts as if lost in the thought. You feel your pussy hug around his cock, making his grunts turn into small moans. “Fuck, princesa.” You feel tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, but the idea of his cum in you keeps you from spilling over the edge.

“You wanna cum?” Miguel asks you. You look up at him and nod your head.

“Please, please let me cum, and then you can fill me up as much as you want,” you beg.

“So greedy,” he says. He moves his hands and lets you place your legs on his shoulders. He brings one hand to keep you stable on your hip and the other to your pussy. He begins rubbing your clit quickly, and the sound of your pussy getting wetter, mixed with his cock slamming into you, fills your ears. His thumb plays with your clit, and you feel yourself grow warm, and your thighs shake. “Cum, cariña.” With his go-ahead, your orgasm washes through you, and you cum on his cock. Your screams are loud enough for anyone else to hear, and your nails practically rip the sheets. “That’s a good girl,” Miguel compliments.

After you’ve caught your breath, he moves his hands back to your thighs and pushes them to your chest, just like before. His cock growing more impatient by the minute, wanting to breed.

“Fuck,” Miguel curses. He thrusts into you hard and shoots ropes of cum within you. However, he does not stop and continues to fuck you even with his cum in you. The mixture of cum helps his cock thrust into you faster. He’s not letting any cum go to waste.

“Mi-Miguel,” you cry, unsure what you’re asking of him.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he promises. “Your pussy will only know my cum.” His promise is serious. He’s going to fuck you until he’s satisfied.

。·ﾟﾟ·　·ﾟﾟ·。。·ﾟﾟ·　·ﾟﾟ·。。·ﾟﾟ·　·ﾟﾟ·。。·ﾟﾟ·　·ﾟﾟ·。

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 

Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  

The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 

The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 

“Trick or Treat!” 

The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 

Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 

A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 

And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  

Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…

Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 

Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…

You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…

Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  

Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 

Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?

Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 

-Bring…-

-Brriinnngg…-

“Hello?” 

“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 

You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 

Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”

There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-

“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 

Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”

-click-

——-

Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 

Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…

Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 

The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…

Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 

Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-

Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  

“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 

Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 

Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  

Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 

Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 

Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 

Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.

“Anything else?”

Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.

“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”

Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.

After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara

Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 

Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 

Touché-

“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 

“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 

“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 

“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 

“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 

As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 

“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”

“I’ll stay”

“Huh?” You look at him confused 

Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 

“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 

-------

This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…

Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  

As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”

Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”

Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 

But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 

Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-

Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 

Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 

“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 

“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 

“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”

Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”

“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.

“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”

“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.

“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.

“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 

Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.

Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie

Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 

Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?

The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 

Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 

“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 

Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.

Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.

Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 

Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”

Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…

———-

Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 

“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 

You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-

“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 

“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 

Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 

“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 

Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 

Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 

Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?

Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…

While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 

Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 

Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 

All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 

Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  

“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 

“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss

“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 

Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 

Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”

“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 

Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 

Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 

Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 

Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 

Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 

Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 

“Danm, you're so wet…” 

Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 

Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 

“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 

“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 

Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 

Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 

Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 

Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 

Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 

Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 

Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 

“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 

You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 

The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”

“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   

Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 

Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 

Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 

Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 

Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 

Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 

Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 

After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 

Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 

 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 

The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  

“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 

“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 

“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 

The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry

Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 

The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 

The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”

You shake your head “This is 925” 

The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 

A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 

Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 

With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 

Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 

Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 

“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 

Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 

With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 

Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 

Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  

Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 

“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 

Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 

“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos

Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 

“figured we could multitask.”  

With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 

The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!”