dEEZ NUTS

Ever since that first night in the hotel when the four of you had been wrapped up in each other's physical affairs, each of you had been craving more. Along the domestic arrangements you four had started forming over the months—whose turn it is to washes the dishes every house date, whose turn it is to fetch mayday from preschool, who hosts game night, etc.)—are other spicier habits that you've been blessed to witness witnessed~

Having three partners is indeed a one-of-a-kind blessing 🤷 🫣

SEX DRIVE

In terms of sex drive: MJ > Miguel > You > Peter B

Have mercy on Peter B!!!! He is not cut out for five back-to-back rounds of love-making. But his wife is~🤭 Oh MJ doesn't ever get tired. One minute she'll be giving gREAT head to any of you three, then the next she's giving her husband his second (and final lol) orgasm, then the next she's putting on that purple strap newly purchased a week ago for you (all the while talking dirty to your ear)

After her, Miguel doesn't tire that easily either. Especially if he's been looking forward to your group sessions (which he rarely does, because all he wants is special couple time with you 🥹). But having you happy while spread out and used between all three of them makes Miguel feel satisfied too. He'll give you everything, especially if you beg. And of course, you do.

POSITIONS

MJ likes it when your husbands pull the two of you at the edge of the bed and pound you. She'll watch as Miguel enters you and she'll hold your hand if he's being a little rough~ You'll look to her, your mouth open and your eyebrows knitted together, and she'll wish she was pounding you like that too. If only there's a way you can take all three of them at once, but she knows not to push you too hard. (Maybe someday when you're ready; she'll dream of her fucking your pussy with a toy while her husband takes your ass and Miguel gives his cock to your mouth 😉 But for now, she'll just be a good watcher)

MJ also likes it when the two of you scissor ❤️ ✂️ You'll lay her down on the mattress, get on top so you'd straddle her and roll your hips so that your clit would kiss and rub hers. She'd spit on her hand and use it as lube and the two of you would be moaning. Your husbands don't mind watching you for hours if it meant seeing the two of you look so pleased.

Miguel likes it when he sees your face, so he likes having you on your back or having you on top. He likes it when he can pin you down and watch as you try mouthing words like 'please please keep going' 'faster daddy faster' and so, he knows to follow on your wishes. Seeing your tits bounce is a huge plus too. He loves it when you notice him staring an youd giggle because he's oh so mesmerized by every part of you.

Miguel only wants you closest to him, allowing him to gaze at your eyes, which is why it's not that shocking when his go-to positions for MJ or Peter B are ones where they're out of his gaze. The first time Peter B fucked Miguel's tight ass, Miguel didn't want to look at the guy's eyes. (Is that his catholic guilt—PROBABLY??). It took him awhile before finally letting loose and enjoying the holy sight of Peter B pounding his insides to earn a hot, sticky orgasm from him.

Peter B likes it when he gets to lie down (I'm so sorry 😭🙏)!! HEY, there's something bold about a man who lets you do what you want and he'll be down for it anyway. He enjoys MJ and you taking turns sucking him off as he lies down and offers a lazy handjob to Miguel. And he loves it when he sits on his side, spooning his wife and holding her close as he thrusts with fervor only for her. Peter B loves MJ so much, he's the type to coo and comfort her as she cums repeatedly through the night.

When it comes to you or Miguel, Peter B likes it when you tell him directly what you want. And what better way to do that than command him as you hold him down and tell him what you want. Does Miguel want to jack him off while reciprocating his previous act and fuck Peter B in the ass this time? Peter B says yes. Do you want to get one or two more orgasms out of his limp cock even if he's reached his limit an hour ago? Fuck yeah, he's ready. Just, give him breaks every now and then, and he'll be putty in your hands.

KINKS

MIGUEL has the biggest dacryphilia kink!! The moment your bottom lip quivers and your expressions contort when he's fucking you right, you can guarantee that Miguel will moan in your ear. 'Oh yeah. Take it like a good girl.' 'Is this what you want, getting fucked so dumb?' It brings him so much satisfaction when tears start forming at the rim of your eyes. You can't really blame him, you are beautiful when your eyelashes can't accommodate the tears pouring down to your cheek or your ear. He will lick it. And if you sob and cry, he'll have the urge to cover your mouth. Not because he doesn't want to hear you, but because he likes seeing you trapped and vulnerable. It's just his biggest thing.

Oh but Miguel only reserves that for you. His other kinks—at least one that he displays (or applies 😏?) to both Peter B and MJ—are impact play and bondage! MJ is a fan of both 🤭 but Peter B likes bondage more (giving and receiving)~

PETER B, cuck king, who doesn't want to admit he enjoys seeing his wife being pummeled by another man like Miguel. While Peter B is under you (or in the rare events, on top of you), he'd steal glances at the side of the bed where Miguel has had MJ's hands pinned behind her as she takes his cock from behind. Peter is emasculated, humiliated at the thought of someone else having his pretty wife, but his cock gets harder just hearing her moan at the sound of skin slapping skin. It's such an embarrassing thing to see her wife's walls grip on someone else's (bigger) cock, but Peter's addicted to how voyeuristic it feels.

Peter B doesn't want to admit it either but he likes watching you babble and whine like a little girl (much like Miguel, but less intense since Peter doesn't want to accidentally go overboard). It's so strange to him, since he wasn't particularly a fan of the whole daddy schtick. MJ is indeed more mature (and tbh the more authoritative one in bed than him), but now he sees the charm in you with your innocent eyes.

MJ likes being called mommy DUH. Oh she likes hearing you calling her that and reminding you who is in charge of all it is that you do. She won't let the night end without you on your knees, pink ass up, screaming mommy because she's treated you oh so well. It's become a competition of who teases you more—her or Miguel? But she's strangely competitive about you, she treasures your body so much, your wet puffy pussy at the end of the night should be her trophy. MJ likes being the one to pull you from highs to lows and vice versa, switching it up depending on how the two men are treating you. If she sees your being pampered and spoiled, she'll hold you by your shoulders as she takes you with a strap. If she sees the two men bullying your tight cunt that's had no rest, she'll soothe you by massaging your other sensitive flesh. Call her mommy and she'll go crazy.

She has a thing for lingerie and honestly, anything that you wear. When it's date night and you show up in a charming, plunge dress, you just know she'll be asking to taste your cunt in under thirty minutes. If you start taking off your clothes at the start of the session and she sees you're wearing that lavender lingerie she bought you—you'll be taken cared of for the rest of the night.

MISC. STUFF

After getting used to it, none of you four ever properly initiate group sex anymore. It's become a kind of silent language that you guys have formed wherein you can tell by the flirtatious tilt of MJ's neck, by Miguel's chest heaving deeply, and Peter B's not-so-subtle hard-on that it's time to go up to the bedroom, dim the lights, and rock the night away.

Miguel likes it when you randomly kiss him, even if your bodies weren't the ones intertwined.

Depending on how much time you guys have, you'll even play some mood music. Just because. 🤷

Peter B prefers the bedroom lights a bit bright, so that he can see and please everyone a little better, but Miguel doesn't do well with bright lights so sometimes, scented candles do make a difference.

There was almost a fire accident 🧍 🧍

MJ is the most vocal out of the four of you. Renting a hotel room is hard when there's people in the next room. They always end up complaining but FIRST OF ALL, MJ's moans are great. SECOND, she's hot!! 😡

AFTER-SEX

this is so silly but you and mj line up to the bathroom after sex, it's ONLY RIGHT AND HEALTHY to pee after doing the do ok?? 🫵😫

Then cuddle time for all four of you. Usually, MJ cuddles with Peter B and you cuddle with Miguel. But sometimes, it just depends on who did you last cum with.

In terms of who gives the best aftercare: MJ = Miguel > Peter B > You. You'd be good, but you're the one who really NEEDS aftercare lol

Forehead kisses here and there, before the four of you find sleep at last.

Miguel hogs most of the blanket, leaving none for Peter B :((

By the time he arrived at your building, the time on his watch read ‘11:38 PM.’ Miguel set you down as you led him to your one bedroom unit. The smell of paint wafted through the living room; Miguel thought that the walls were newly painted, until he saw a large canvas resting by a wall. When you turned on the lights to reveal your unit, his eyes were on the canvas that covered the wall. You had been painting a scenery. A few home-bound boats on their way to a bustling dock. A walking lady with a parasol was the center of the painting, awaiting the boats. The manner in which you’ve painted it made it seem like it was a romantic celebration.

“This is beautiful,” He said, admiring your work. “You should’ve been a fine arts student, (Y/N).” Miguel looked over to you; you were already trying to kick off your shoes.

“Too bad we’re already seniors. Enough of that, let’s go to my room.” You could speak full, coherent sentences, which Miguel celebrated. 

Your hand grasped his, pulling him to your room. 

The light from the living room illuminated your bedroom. Miguel could see some of the objects littered around—a purple jewelry box mounted on your desk, a light blue comforter splayed across the floor possibly left in a hurry this morning, a succulent in a white pot near your windowsill, and a picture of you and your family on your drawer. Miguel knew you, but he didn’t know the full you. Secrets about you were all around your bedroom, but he was about to learn the most intimate one of all—your body. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, beckoning him to occupy the space next to yours. Your fingers removed his glasses, placing them softly on your drawer before sighing. “So,” you said.

“So,” Miguel echoed. He looked deep into your eyes with purpose, to see if you had any doubts about this and to see if you were still drunk. It didn’t seem like you were intoxicated in anything else but the air between the two of you. Miguel could smell the alcohol on your breath, but even more piercing was the tempting scent of your pheromones. It drove him crazy, but he wanted you to lead. Whatever you desire, he wanted.

“Why don’t you kiss me?” You asked, leaning closer and eyeing his lips.

‘Of course, anything for you,’ he thought. Miguel closed the gap between the two of you. His lips felt rough, but he himself was tender with you. You placed his hand on your thigh and your hand traveled to his face, cupping his rugged jaw. You moaned into the kiss; your need for him couldn’t be satiated even as he pressed his body close to yours. His chest pressed against yours and you could feel how solid he was. You were so curious to see his body, but he kept focusing on your soft lips.

All of your previous partners would jump at the opportunity to squeeze your breasts or to shove their hand in your panties, but Miguel was taking his time. Or, he could be super shy. You laughed in between kisses since nothing was happening beyond making out. “What are you doing?” You broke the kiss to ask. His hand neither traveled farther up your thigh or unto your breasts.

“Kissing you. Do you- Do you not like kissing?” He asked, a mix of his saliva and yours slathered on his lower lip. 

“I do, Miguel, but I need you.” You nodded at him, trusting that he knew what you were implying. Your heart was all over the place and Miguel’s doubtful gaze made it even worse. “Do you… not want to have sex?”

“I do,” He confirmed quickly. “But, I have something to confess.” 

“What is it?”

Miguel took your hand in his, drawing little circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “I haven’t done it.” He watched as your eyes widened. “With anyone. At all.”

“At all, as in you haven’t…?” You stuttered, as he shook his head. “You haven’t gotten down..? Or received? Or…?” You were shocked with every shake of his head. Then, you started giggling. The situation was cute. All this time, you thought Miguel was secretly a player. Someone who was a nerd outside, but a total woman-killer in bed. But now, you were suddenly put in a position where you would have to take care of him. The idea gets you excited. “Why are you a virgin? Oh wait, that’s a bad question…”

“Long story. Strict parents, busy schedules, never the right girl, you know it.” Miguel turned his face away from you. 

You paused. “Well, am I the right girl?”

“You’re more than that.”

You scoffed. “Of course you’ll say that. Aren’t I an easy target?” Tonight, you were at your most vulnerable. Not two hours ago, you were violated by a man you thought you could trust. Now, you’re suddenly swept away again. It’s just like you to not know what to do with your heart. “I’m basically throwing myself at you. The first girl you’ll ever fuck.”

Miguel’s response came to him too fast. “Hopefully, the last one, too.” And he meant it.

“What?” You laughed, not believing how he could say that with such determination. “Isn’t that going too fast?”

Miguel put his hands on either side of your face, letting you gaze in his eyes as he assured you. “If you throw yourself at me, I’ll catch you each time.” He kissed you again. “Plus, you’re the one who wants to get a move on.”

You smiled at the way he teased you, yet was sincere with you. You felt like you could trust him the most, but that just might be the leftover alcohol in your system. He ran his fingers through your hair as your tongues brush against each other. 

Miguel squeezed your thighs with his one hand, while the other one hovered above your breast. “May I?” He asked and you nodded, in need. He obliged, connecting his warm palm on your tit; His kiss became more passionate, after noticing you had no bra on. This whole time. He squeezed your tit some more, as he gently pushed you down on the bed. He broke the kiss. “Can I—Um, can I taste you?”

“My pussy?” You teased, liking the way your words made his ears red.

“Yes.”

You swung your legs over to the bed. His hands grasped your knees, as you laid down. 

Miguel admired the way your hot pink dress hugged your curves; the hem of your dress was hiked up to the top of your thighs and he could faintly see a wet spot on your white panties. As if seeing your underwear wasn’t enough to spur him on. You spread your legs completely open; The back of your calf brushes his clothed cock as you did this. If his cock was hard a while ago, now it’s threatening to ruin his pants. 

“Take my panties off, baby,” You spoke, seductive and demanding. 

Miguel’s eyes stayed on your pussy, as he hooked his fingers on your underwear, pulling them off slowly. “Fuck,” was all he could say when he fully uncovered your glistening pussy. Two of his fingers crept up to your folds and spread it apart.

“Like it? You wanna taste me?” 

Adjusting his position, Miguel leaned closer to where you needed him the most. He licked a tentative stripe up your folds, hearing you gasp at the contact. 

“More baby, more. Don’t be shy.” Your hand grasped your tit as Miguel continued to give experimental licks, watching which ones make your face contort into pleasure, which ones make you squeeze your tit, and which ones make your legs twitch. At one point, Miguel would circle your clit with his tongue, earning cute moans from you. Then, he tried pushing two fingers in your entrance while he sucked earnestly on the underside of your clit, and that made you hook your leg behind his neck. 

“You’re so delicious, princesa.” His cock was leaking for sure. Miguel watched as you would moan and your eyebrows would knit as his fingers curled to brush your sensitive spot. His movements were slow, until you begged him to hurry up. His free hand was clasped underneath your ass as he brought your pussy closer to him, allowing him to taste you even further—he interchanged his motions. His fingers now rubbed your clit as fast as possible, as his tongue drove itself deep in you, repeatedly fucking your hole.

“Miguel, fuck! Fuck!” Your legs were high up, as you felt your stomach tighten. Your eyes were on Miguel tongue-fucking you and then the next, they were closed as you felt your orgasm crash into you. His tongue made you ride it out, giving you sloppy in-and-out motions before he set you back down on the mattress.

Miguel couldn’t detach himself from your pussy. Even as you came down from your high, Miguel was giving tiny kisses on your clit, watching it flush pink. You had to pry him away from you, already overstimulated. Miguel had a smirk on his face, pussy drunk. “I would like to say for the record that that’s my first time doing that.”

“Really?” You were breathless. Never had any man eaten you out like that. You were so used to guys who would stay down there for like a minute or two, before requesting for head. “N-Not bad.” You looked at Miguel, who couldn’t stop admiring you. 

“You’re beautiful when you cum.” He couldn’t stop replaying the memory of you reaching your climax. “I’d love to see it again.” Leaning into your face, he gave you soft kisses on your cheek. 

As he leaned closer to you, that’s when you noticed the bulge on his pants. You became aware he was still fully clothed. Determined to change that, you sat up and felt your insides flutter a bit as you did. You pulled the hem of his shirt up, exposing his naked torso. “Huh, nice abs.” You couldn’t help but run your fingers on his body. He had a six pack, toned arms, and a happy trail. These and the fact that he’s a fast learner made him the complete package. 

You moved on to his pants and his briefs, stripping them off and setting free his cock in haste. “Mmm,” You moaned as you came face to face with his tan cock. His tip was pink and had precum slathered at the slit. One angry vein ran along the underside of his tip. You wrapped your hand at his base and realized you would not be able to fit his length if you wrapped both hands around him. Greedy, you stroked his balls too and he shuddered at the touch. 

“Like it? You want to taste me this time?” He teased, repeating what you said just a few moments ago. 

Smirking, you conceded and spat on his tip. Your hands stroked his cock faster, then gave wet kisses around his tip. Miguel moaned with every spit that dripped from your lips and when you slid his cock in your mouth, he could barely keep himself quiet. You tried your hardest to resist, but you put your hands on his chest and pushed him down on the mattress. “I want you inside me please.”

“Need me already?” Miguel felt his cock twitching as you crawled on top of him. He sat up momentarily to tug your dress off of your form—an action you followed through with. The two of you were now nude. Miguel looked at your breasts, already wanting to paint them with his own cum. 

“Yes, Miguel. Now, stop teasing.” Not caring that he didn’t have a pillow under his head, you pinned him down—you wanted to get fucked by him now. You aligned your entrance with his tip, before sliding down.

"Oh, fuck!!" Miguel screamed, as his cock was welcomed into your velvet walls. You mewled as your pussy accommodated his length. You were fucking tight; it’s because his cock was the biggest you’ve ever tried to fit in you. It was strange; he was the virgin here, but you felt as if this was your first time again. Oh, he was gonna ruin you, no other man can have you now.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)” He cried out when his whole length was buried deep in you. A hand dug through your thigh; you swore you could feel a hint of claws. Feeling you on top of him and squeezed impossibly around him is the best; he’s glad—thankful—that you’re his first.  “Move when you’re ready, Y/N.”

You took his hands in yours and leaned back, granting him access to see your whole nude form. Riding him slowly, up and down, you moaned every time his tip made contact with the sensitive spots that he had just fingered minutes ago. Miguel let go of one of your hands, just to squeeze your tit again. He loved your breasts, you can tell. “Miguel, baby,” You would moan, as you were rolling your hips to please his cock. You were getting faster, using his grunts as motivation. 

Miguel placed his hands on your waist as he started thrusting upwards, his own pace was rough and erratic. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you towards him, letting your bodies smush together. Your breasts on his chest. Your stomach getting tickled by his happy trail. He was in control now, as he pounded you and left you limp in his arms. Miguel grabbed your hair and pushed it back; he wanted to see your face as you cum again. 

But as your pussy was getting fucked by Miguel’s cock and as you started moaning his name, you froze. You suddenly remembered the video Harry took of you and how your moans in the video were similar to how you were moaning now. You stopped your actions altogether. Miguel noticed your pause and stopped himself. 

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Miguel panicked, then slid out of you and sat you down beside him. It was no fun if you weren’t enjoying it. “Hey, look at me, did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s okay.” Your hands tried finding your blanket, covering yourself. “I just… accidentally thought of what happened with Harry again.” It’s hard to trust someone again after that situation.

“I’m sorry,” Miguel said. He thought back to what happened, too, and he hoped that Harry’s jaw was broken from Miguel’s punch a while ago. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I- I need you here.”

Miguel nodded. He covered his bare cock with a pillow first. “Do you want to do something else first?” He looked at your features; Your stare was blank, completely fixated on one spot on the wall. Realizing that he should distract you from the anxieties you were having, he started thinking about his favorite memories with you. He chose one that could make you laugh. “You remember that one time our professor slipped on the floor?”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah, ‘cuz someone didn’t clean up the soap on the lab floor.” 

“And he had to be carried bridal-style to the clinic?” Miguel nudged you, remembering how you and Miguel volunteered to take the poor professor to the clinic. 

“And we couldn’t stop laughing when we dropped him off.” The memory of that day filled your head. That was the day you started having feelings for Miguel, who you didn’t know could smile so brightly. He was always doing his best to make you smile, even if he was more reserved than you are. Even now, he could make you laugh. “I’m so sorry for bringing you here, Miguel.” 

“You should never apologize, (Y/N).” Miguel caressed your cheek; all of his adoration for you could be felt in his fingertips. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. He should be sorry, not you. All you’ve ever done is love your hardest. You deserve someone who’ll do his best to love you back.”

“You mean you?” You laughed, leaning into his. touch.  

Miguel brushed the hair out of your face. He looked at you earnestly, his eyes a deep, brown red. “I know I would love you better than anyone can, if you gave me the chance.” 

You were seduced by the idea of him loving you. “What does that mean?”

“It means, (Y/N), I want to go on a real date with you.”

You closed the distance between the two of you again; his lips locked on yours as if he was parched for more. 

“Let me make love to you. I promise I’ll be better than him.” Miguel laid you down on your back, adorning your skin with the softest kisses. “Don’t think of anything or anyone else. I’ll be your comfort for tonight, princesa” He moved on top of you, his eyes scanned your face if you had any doubts. But you didn’t. You were willing to try again, because it’s Miguel and his care for you is evident in every touch, every gaze, and every kiss. 

“Please fuck me,” you said and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in. 

Miguel pushes his cock inside of you slowly, as your moans scattered around the room. His length curled into your walls, nudging the bundle of sensitive nerves. A tender snap of his hips and you felt like you were on fire. He sped up gradually; your head limped into the pillow, but he grabbed your chin with his hand, “Look at me, (Y/N).” His voice soft as he pounded you. “Cum for me.” 

His quick movements. The thickness of his tip. His hot breath on your mouth. The sound of skin slapping skin. How vulnerable you were, being filled like this. How hot he was. How his hand was on your cheek. Him whispering praises in your ear. The biting of his lip, as his eyebrows knitted in concentration, trying not to cum inside you right then and there—all of it sent you over the edge. 

Your walls tightened as your second orgasm arrived. With a cry, you sunk your nails into his shoulders. Though your eyes were snapped shut, you felt Miguel drinking in your expressions as you came. His thrusts became erratic—an effect from your lewd display. Finally, he pounded you a deeper time, before pulling out with a grunt, shooting ropes of his warm seed on your tits.

“Fuck!” Miguel cried out as the last ounces of his cum shot to your mouth. He couldn’t believe how perfect you look, marked by him. He spent a few seconds admiring you and you spent a few seconds catching your breath, before he eventually said, “Would you like me to wipe it off?”

You replied by licking your lips and tasting his seed. “You just want to rub my tits again~”

Miguel chuckled, “Maybe. But I still want to clean you up.”

You offered him a box of tissues that were conveniently under your bed. He wiped his cum off, as you enjoyed being taken care of by him. Your previous orgasms still made your vision a little hazy; you wondered how he was.

Despite being the inexperienced one, Miguel was still determined to do aftercare. He massaged your thighs and wiped your sweat off, too. “Was I any good?” He put on his glasses. 

You laughed, “I came, didn’t I? Twice~” You grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the mattress. “No other guy could do that.” 

He leaned into your embrace, facing you and caressing your hair. “Really? Actually, wait, I don’t want to hear about your past boyfriends.” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about them. All I want is you.” You played with his hair, too, as you both basked in the afterglow of your recent hook-up. Your warm bodies interlaced with one another. “About that date~” He perked up. “Miguel O’Hara, would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?” 

Pop songs continued to burst through the speakers, as everyone danced and drank. The thin walls of the apartment—not his, just a random baseball jock—moved at every reverberation of the bass. Miguel tried to keep a steady hand at his cup, still half-full from the cheap liquor that a dude was passing around. The reason for his intense focus—you, from across the room.

You were all dolled up, but not for him. Not for anyone, really. But for yourself. That’s what he liked about you. Your hot pink dress that clung tight to your body, your hair flowing freely and reaching the middle of your back, and your legs smooth and supple—he couldn’t stop looking even if he tried to. You were chatting with your group of friends and having a good time.

“I swear to god, you have to talk to her.” His younger brother, Gabriel, who was unfortunately invited to the party despite just being a sophomore, swung his arm around his older brother. “If you don’t, you’ll get stuck with me the whole night and that’s a bit lame.”

Miguel grunted, not wanting to get lumped together with his brother.

In truth, Miguel knew that he should approach you. It’s not like you two weren’t close. You were his partner in biology elective last semester. Though he had known who you were, since you were one of the more popular girls among your batch, that was the first time he met you. It was one of Miguel’s better memories, remembering how ecstatic you were getting paired up with him, since he was majoring in Biochemistry. He had asked, “What’s your major?”

“Art Management,” You had said, unconfidently. “It’s like the business side of Fine Arts.”

“Why didn’t you take the actual Fine Arts?”

“I’m not that good. And if I’m not that good, my art’s probably not worth anyone’s time.” In that memory of his, your head was bowed down as you said these words. Your chirpy energy suddenly dropped. Even in that moment of your first meeting, he wanted to assure you that you were a good artist. Miguel could see that you had a genuine heart and that your vibe wasn’t fake.

That’s why Miguel couldn’t understand it when you told him you were dating Harry Osborne, a privileged prick. Harry’s dad and Miguel’s dad were business rivals, so maybe Miguel had a bias against him. Miguel, a rich kid, having beef with another rich kid; it was laughable. But even so, Harry wasn’t treating you right. Miguel could see it every time your gaze would be stolen by your buzzing phone when you two would do pair-work. He could see the anxiety on your face as you tried to ignore the calls and texts. Miguel wanted to tell you to save yourself from your boyfriend. But ultimately, it wasn’t Miguel’s business. He wished it was.

Timeskip to now, you had just broken up with Harry five days ago. Here you were, partying. Miguel was glad, you seemed happier. But he was so hesitant to talk to you. Miguel didn’t want to seem like he was being an opportunist. After all, he had the biggest crush on you. But then, you made eye contact with him from across the room. With a warm smile, you waved at him. “Come here!” He heard you shout.

Miguel exhaled, relieving his tension before he made his way to you. “Hey, (Y/N)!”

“Miggy! You’re here!” You were bouncing to the rhythm of the song, moving away a bit from your friends.

“Yeah, I managed to swing by! You’re um,” Miguel stuttered, wanting to compliment your dress, your dancing, your anything, but he just awkwardly whispered instead, “You’re here, too.”

Now, in your eyes, Miguel was exactly the man you wanted to see. Not your bully of an ex-boyfriend. Not even the dude hosting the party right now. It was Miguel. You were harboring a bit of a crush on him. You didn’t want to admit it, because you just got out of a bad relationship, but your heart’s already beating for him. Whenever Miguel would do pair-work in biology with you, he’d always give you reassurances that your solutions regarding isotopes and their relative abundance quotients were right. To him, they were just basic solutions. But to you, they were hard to understand. That’s why it mattered so much that Miguel was never condescending, even if sometimes you get it wrong.

You couldn’t help but lean closer to him when you two were across from each other at the library table. You couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes at him, pretending you forgot what the difference of anabolic and metabolic pathways are. You liked the way he would open his notebook, skim the paper lines with his calloused fingers—why were they rough?—then, recap the topic to you with a serious expression. You liked that he was very passionate about his major. You liked the way he wore thick sweaters, making you question what’s hidden underneath them.

Miguel wormed his way into your heart. The only thing you wished to change was his mixed signals. Sometimes, he acted aloof to you, proceeding to bury his face in his books, squinting at you, or being almost an hour late to your study sessions. And yet, sometimes, you caught him staring at you. He’d look away instantly. Now that you’re single, you hoped he’d ask you out soon.

“So, who did you come with?” You asked, wondering if he went to the party with friends or with another girl.

“Oh, just by myself.”

“Really~” You asked, teasingly. “Then, why do I see your brother doing belly shots with those people?” You pointed at Miguel’s brother, lying down on the kitchen aisle. He spotted you two and waved back at the two of you.

Miguel cringed, then muttered some phrases in Spanish, but you couldn’t understand. You chuckled, assuring him that it’s fine. “Sorry, he usually stays at home. Don’t worry, I’m not chaperoning.”

You giggled at his words. He loved the way your eyes crinkle, when you laugh. He was so happy to see you. But the happiness was shattered when a new party barged in the living room—Harry and his two ugly friends.

Miguel immediately looked at you; his own face mirrored your worry. He wanted to pull you away to a different corner of the apartment to distract you, but Harry called out to you as soon as he saw you.

“If it isn’t the girl I dumped!” Harry declared, pushing his face close to yours. Everyone within your vicinity started looking.

“Actually, Harry—she dumped you,” A friend of yours said.

“No, she didn’t. Why would she? I’m the best she’s ever had!” Harry was leaning close to you; his breath reeked like alcohol. Miguel had had enough. He put himself in between you and Harry, giving the boy a glare. But Harry was drunk and stupid enough to not back down. “I know you, you’re O’Hara’s son. How does it feel having your daddy almost fucking bankrupt?” Harry turned to you. “Is this your new man?”

You looked at Miguel as your face flushed even further. You couldn’t say anything, overwhelmed at the presence of your ex.

“Listen,” Miguel muttered angrily, “Just leave her alone. And leave my dad out of this, too.”

“Fine. Fine.” Harry raised his two hands in mock defeat. But he winked at you. “I’ll leave her alone, alright.” He almost turned away. You and Miguel almost sighed in relief. But he just made it worse by addressing everyone. “By the way, look at your phones, people! Have a look at my ex!”

Everyone’s phones started dinging. You felt your blood go cold, your stomach frozen over. One by one, you heard your own moans and whimpers coming from people’s phones. It dawned on you that he shared leaked videos of you to everyone. You didn’t even know he took them. You didn’t have the heart to check what specific lewd moment was captured of you. Your friends started shouting at other people to turn that shit off. Miguel looked at your face, not once checking his phone. He didn’t want to see it. He didn’t find it funny. Not at all. The music stopped and you felt all eyes looking at you. As if he wasn’t cruel enough, Harry turned up the volume of his phone at just the right moment of you screaming his name. That’s when two things happened—you bolted away from the party and Miguel suckerpunched him in the jaw.

Harry laid on the floor, his jaw an obvious red. Your friends started kicking his unconscious body and they told Miguel to find you and bring you back. He followed, wanting to know where you are and wanting to soothe your pain. As much as he wanted to beat Harry into oblivion—his main concern was you. Where were you? What were you feeling? How can he help?

He exited the building and looked around the street for you. You were at the heart of Nueva York; you could be anywhere by now. Quickly scanning the brightly lit streets thanks to the neon billboards and LED lamp posts, Miguel finally noticed your figure hastily taking the left to a busier street. Miguel called out to your name but you momentarily disappeared in the crowd. He pressed on further and caught you entering a convenience store.

Miguel entered, too. The bright lights of the convenience store made him jolt, claws instinctively coming out. So he placed on a unique pair of glasses. He saw you crouching at the cold drinks section.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Miguel asked, crouching at your figure.

Your mascara was ruined as tears had been streaming down your face for a while now. Your nose and lips were puffy, even as you bottomed out a bottle of mule. “Don’t look at me.”

“Can we talk, (Y/N)? You look like you need some fresh air.”

You didn’t answer as you nursed down the beverage.

“Also, have you paid for that?”

You shook your head. You were ready for him to pester you even further with more questions, but what you didn’t expect was that he just sat down beside you. In the middle of the cold-tiled aisle, Miguel just pondered the silence with you. You became aware of your beating heart almost made numb by the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny the heat in between your bodies. Miguel provided such warmth and such hope in your shameful situation You felt tears brimming your eyes. They couldn’t be stopped. “Did you—Did you… watch it?”

“No,” Miguel reassured you as quickly as you had asked. “I will never.”

You leaned into his shoulders, noticing how he didn’t flinch at your touch.

“If it helps, I think you can report him.”

You considered it for a split second before rationalizing with yourselves. “His dad will just pummel my reputation even more. There’s no winning here, Miguel.” You buried your face in the darkness created by bringing your knees closer to your chest. Miguel reached for the bottle, taking it from you. “I should just accept it.”

Miguel felt even worse now that you’ve given up. He wanted to make you happy. He wanted to respect your decision of course, but at the same time, he didn’t like how that asscrap crushed your heart to pieces. You didn’t deserve that. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

You were silent for a bit. “Sleep with me.”

“What?!”

Lifting your head from your knees, you looked at him with a straight face. “Sleep with me. Please.”

Miguel, flustered, just kept staring at you. Were you serious? You seemed like it. His mind tempted him to meet your demands. If it makes you happy, then he’ll make you happy. But he was quite sure that you’re just drunk, lonely, and vulnerable—not really a good sign that you’re thinking clearly. Also, he was hesitant because of another thing. “That’s not a good idea. I should bring you back to the party.” He tried standing up, but you grabbed his sleeve and mumbled more pleas. “(Y/N), you know we can’t do that.”

“Why not? I like you, Miguel. Please.”

Miguel stood there, trying to think of possible scenarios. Maybe he could go to your apartment, tire you out (in a non-sexual way), then leave when you finally go to sleep. But you’d probably get worried that he did something to you while you’re sleeping—not good. Maybe he could pretend to not be interested in you, then bring you back to your friends. But he’d risk losing what he has with you—not good.

No matter what rationalizing thought he had, the temptation to give in won over his heart, his logic, and his virgin cock. That’s right. Miguel hasn’t done it with anyone. It’s not because he was saving it or anything. It’s not even because he was never attracted to anyone before you. It was his spider-man gigs and his academics and his double life and his teen-turned-sudden-adult angst and his anal-retentive father. In his 20 years of life, there just wasn’t a time for it. Now, you’re suddenly offering sex to him. Why would he refuse?

He coughed, not believing what he was about to say. “If we’re gonna fuck, you better sober up.” Miguel snatched a water bottle and some snacks from the nearby aisles, then helped you up until you’re standing. “I’ll pay for your alcohol, but leave it behind, please.”

You stood up, hugging his arm as you’re still inebriated. You let him lead the way as he paid for the food, before leading you outside. Finally noticing the glasses he was wearing, you poked at it as he grimaced at your touch. “Glasses?” You mumbled as you buried your face in his arm.

“Yeah, they’re light-sensitive.” He hooked your arm as he led you through the crowd. “Where do you live, (Y/N)?”

“Not telling!” You teased, before gulping down water.

“Do you want to have sex or not?”

“Hehe. Sixth avenue. Alessandra Palace. Not a real palace.”

Miguel crouched on the floor, offering his back for you to ride on as you tried sobering up. You giggled as you got on his back, peppering kisses on his ears. Miguel blushed at the contact and told you not to do that. You pouted with an audible ‘hmp’ before Miguel held the back of your knees and lifted you up. “Mind texting your friends that I’m taking you home?”

“Why are you so strong?” You whispered while rubbing your forehead on his sturdy back “Thought you were a nerd.”