#sweetimpurity

“Look at me, baby…” His deep voice rasps from above and your eyes flutter open. “Look at me and don’t look away, little one.” He grins and pumps into you. Your trembling legs clasped around his waist, his body engulfing yours, smothering you with his warmth and the intensity of each deep stroke. Your lips part in a soft almost silent moan as his cock glides in and out. In and out with no resistance. With a big hand he pushes one of your knees down to the bed, spreading you out, allowing himself to get even deeper, his cock dragging deliciously through your arousal. You whine at the feeling, slapping your hand against his chest as he’s reached even deeper, taking you, filling you, claiming you over and over. “M-Miguel! Ah.. hah…mm…” Gasps fill your chest as he goes a little faster, fueled by the red mark you just left on his chest. “Take it baby… it’s yours, remember?” A soft and breathy, dark laugh vibrates in him watching you take all he’s giving. Your eyes roll back as he hits the spot and his big hand comes around your throat, not putting any pressure just forcing you to bring your attention back to him. Your eyes lock back onto his and he growls as his hips snap deeply nestled between your thighs. “Ah!…” You gasp and slap his chest again, your fingers digging into his muscles and it’s involuntary at this point. He smirks as you keep slapping him, knowing you just can’t help it, he grabs both your wrists, holding them in one hand over your chest, his other hand going to the pillow behind your head. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours and he moans in your face. Like he’s moaning only for you to hear it. A sound that could make you cum on the spot. “Mm… ah… hah…” You listen to him all hot and moany, putting on a show, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room, the noise of his cock slamming and squishing into your sex fills your ears. Lifting his head so he can look in your eyes, he speaks. “You hear that?” He says with a laugh in his voice. “You know what that is, baby?” His voice is so sweet as always, soft and gentle. The completely opposite of how he’s fucking into you right now. He grabs your face in his free hand, forcing you to listen well. “That’s me inside you…” He whispers and you sob, pulsing around him, right on the edge of bliss. His smiling lips find yours, kissing you breathy and sloppy, his dirty words ringing in your ears.

It’s been a month since your first night with him. The month has been a blur of Miguel and sex. Ever since that first night it’s like no one can do it for him like you do.

Your orgasm is rolling in like soft thunder, blooming in your thighs and in the pit of your stomach. Your muscles tighten and your body resists him, squeezing your thighs around his waist, pushing yourself up the bed a bit but he keeps you down. Pulling down on your wrists to keep you in place as he fucks an orgasm into you. “Mm-ahhhh….” You moan and whine and he smiles watching you come undone beneath him. “Yes baby… yes… oh you’re doing so good, baby…tu siente tan bien…so so good” His voice is sweet but his smile is wicked and his cock is cruel. Pumping into you as he buries his face in the warmth of your neck. His breath coming out in short pants across your chest. “So pretty… so perfect baby…” His deep voice hums soft in your ear. His free hand squeezing hard into the pillow beside your head, his knuckles white and his muscles flexed. His open mouth breathes against your neck, mumbling praises and demands in a jumbled mix of English and Spanish and leaning down to kiss your skin, sucking on the spots that make you jolt away. You gasp and your back starts to arch off the bed. His strong, thick body stops you from moving, pushing you back down, he presses his body down onto you, his bare, warm chest pressed up against yours, keeping you flush to the mattress. And as you’re held down, your moans get more urgent as the pressure is harder to release. Soft cries escape you and he keeps going. “Please please! Ah!” You whine and he intertwines his fingers with each of your hands, pushing them straight out on both sides of your body so you can’t move, you can’t even think. You’re just splayed out for him to use, for him to fuck, for him to fill. His weight pushes you into the mattress, his body completely flush to yours. “Please what?” His voice is still so soft and warm even as he fucks you breathless. “I-I’m…” You stutter and words are impossible. “You wanna cum, baby?” He teases and grinds his hips into you, pushing his dick as deep as he can and his pelvic bones push against yours. He releases one hand, his long fingers curl around the back of your neck. “Tell me you want to…” He pants and picks his head up to look at your teary face, your cheeks flushed and teeth bared. “Say it and I’ll let you do it… say you wanna cum on my cock” He kisses your cheek, ghosting his lips over your face and your lips. Your lips part in more agonizing, silent moans, eyes closed tight, focusing on your incoming release, his thick dick squishing into you filling your guts with every heavy thrust, the sounds of sex and his breathing fill your ears. “Say it!” He rasps and pounds into you, keeping his face so close to yours, his angular nose pressing into your cheek, his covetous cock abusing your wanting walls and he’s shivering every time you suck him back in. “Mm-ahhh! I-I wanna cum! Please c- I-I need your c-ock! Miguel!” You cry and tears roll down your flushed cheeks. He smiles at your obedience and opens his mouth against the side of your face, biting down on the plumpness of your cheek, not enough to leave a mark on your pretty face but enough for you to feel it. To feel that he has complete control. That he can break you just as easily as he can make you cum. His lips and teeth trail down the side of your face and bites down on your warm neck. It makes you moan and the sounds escaping you get higher in pitch, signaling to him that you really are just about there. His toned abdomen rubs against your fleshy tummy, making you even hotter, warming the place his seed will soon flood full. “Then do it… cum on my dick, baby. Cum for me.” He mumbles between pants and moans into your neck, moving his hands to your back, holding you flush to him as he pumps into you, keeping this speed going because he knows this is what’s getting you. He lets your hands free and you hold onto his thick arms, digging your fingers into his muscles as your orgasm hits hard. “Ohyesyesyes! Oh f-uck! Miguel!” You cry out in agonizing pleasure.

He pushes himself up, looking down at you and plunges into you as deep as he can and your orgasm comes over you in waves. His arm hooking around your lower back and slamming his cock into you one final time. Almost selfishly he does it so he can feel it happening over his cock. His own climax hits him as you keep squeezing him over and over, milking him of everything he’s got and you feel the warmth of his release shooting deep inside. “That’s it… oh fuck… oh yes” He pants and groans, caressing his hand over your soft, warm tummy and pressing down gently where his dick is still deep inside you. He sits back on his knees and watches his cum leak out of you, holding you by your hips and slowly pulling your pliant body back and forth on his cock, watching the white dribble out. You look up at him through teary eyes, watching his gaze fixed on your sopping hole. Your eyes travel down his handsome face to his neck and his broad chest as it huffs and expands in heavy breath, sweat glistening on his tan skin in the morning sunlight. He’s a picture of pure perfection. His eyes come back to your fucked out face and he leans forward, wraps his hand around your throat and kisses your lips softly. His tongue dancing with your, his teeth biting down gently on your lips. “Say you’re mine.” He hums against your mouth and keeps a hold of your throat, rubbing his thumb in circles over your thumping heartbeat. “I-I’m yours…” You breathe out and catch your breath. And this exchange of words has become quite the routine. “Sweet baby…” He whispers with a grin, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb. You’re both a pile of sweat and sex as he comes down on top of you. You don’t mind being crushed by him. Your fingers tangling in the dark curls at the nape of his neck as his head rests in the crook of your neck, and you feel him softening inside you.

You’ve never discussed what this means for the two of you. Your instincts told you that he’s not someone you want to be your boyfriend. You’ve thought that ever since he first fucked you a month ago. You only knew that you were mesmerized all the times you saw him in class or in the halls or when they put up that banner of him and the soccer team. The mid-game action shot of him that practically had you drooling. You'd had a crush on him that was purely based on his handsome face, his deep voice and not surprisingly for you, his exam scores. Smart is sexy.

He had never really seen you before that night. Maybe it was because he was always so wrapped up in himself. But you can’t imagine not spending all this time with him over the past month. After all the times of him coming over late at night, meeting up with you after class, spending nights at a time in bed with you, it feels like this is turning into something more. You hope it is. You don’t know what he wants. He doesn’t really open up or share much. He’s closed off and cold most of the time to almost everyone. But that doesn’t mean you want this to ever stop. He does make it a point of telling you you’re his. Making you confirm it in a way he’ll believe you.

Miguel has never been this way with anyone. And this month has been a change of pace for him to say the least. He was usually hooking up with different people all the time. It was something he needed, something he could control. But since he had you, he won’t accept anything less. He’s stopped talking to some of his friends. They’re his ‘friends’ but a lot of them are just people he’s been associated with ever since he got to this school. He doesn’t really think most of them are good people. He stopped going to parties that he never really enjoyed anyway. He’s been sort of hiding away in this little bubble the two of you have created. He’s completely ignored texts from Dana, he hasn’t responded to messages from his parents or Peter. The only people he’s wanted to talk to are you and his little brother. But almost 100% of his attention has been on you.

Some days he can’t stop himself and he does go to find you. Waiting outside your class until it’s over, pulling you by the arm to the empty student lounge and locking the door behind you both. Or finding you in the library where you are a lot of the time and dragging you to the nonfiction section where no one ever goes. Fucking you from behind as he makes you peek out over the books on the shelves and watch the people in the library who have no idea you’re getting pounded near the biographies section. Clasping his hand over your moany mouth, shoving his fingers past your lips… “Shhh baby, someone’s gonna hear… you have to be quiet, little one… be quiet and I’ll be nice.”

…

“I have to go…” You say softly as you keep running your fingers through his soft dark hair. He groans against your chest, his arms tightening around you, his dick still nestled inside the warmth of you. He doesn’t want to let you go. You made plans to go home this long weekend for a family thing and he won’t be able to see you for a few days. He doesn’t like this. It feels almost like an end to this escape he’s been enjoying. “Mmm…” He grumbles softly and keeps laying on top of you. “Miguel, I really have to go” Your train back home is in an hour so you need to make sure you have everything ready to go. You run your hands over his broad back. He groans and looks up at you, his pretty brown eyes just melting you. “Fine.” He sighs, sitting up and carefully pulling out of you, rubbing his hands over your thighs apologetically at the mess he’s made between them. He grabs a small towel from the bedside table and gently rubs away the mess on your skin as well as his own. His eyes stay glued to your body as he speaks. “You’ll be back on Monday, right?” He leans down to kiss your stomach softly, snaking his arm around your back so he can leave wet kisses over your tummy and your hips. “I’ll be back Monday… and midterms start on Tuesday so I'll be pretty busy next week with tutoring sessions. I think I have a… or is it Tuesday night… or I don’t know…” You keep talking absentmindedly, going over the busy schedule of the next week in your head. You can make some serious tutoring money during midterms week. “Mhm…” He hums, not really listening now because how could he when he’s kissing you like this. Your hand goes to his hair as he gets distracted, leaving hickies on your tummy. “I have to go…” You whisper for the third time, the numbers on his alarm clock now starting to worry you. “I know, I know…” He hums and crawls up towards you, leaning down to kiss your lips. Kissing you again, then again, again and again and a few more times after that. Your heart flutters at the feeling. You’re not sure how he feels about committing to something like a relationship. But it feels like he really enjoys being with you, especially with how many times he comes over or you beckon to his every call. You do enjoy feeling like you’re his though. You’re not really sure how he feels about anything since he doesn’t really share much stuff like that. But when he kisses you like this it’s like he’s telling you all the things you need to hear. All the things he doesn’t want to say.

“I’ll see you later…” You look back at him and smile softly as you pull your clothes back on. His dark eyes are still drinking you in as he watches you from the bed. “See you later. Be safe…” He says in his deep voice and you nod to him. It makes you feel something, seeing and hearing him like this. Your first time with him, it was like he wasn’t human, just a machine with the mission to fuck you senseless. But he can be soft and quiet and gentle. You’ve found he’s actually quite reserved. “I’ll text you when I get back” You say while buttoning up your coat and opening his room door. Miguel nods and stops himself from requesting you text or call him while you’re gone. He doesn’t want to seem clingy even though that’s what he wants. He wants to know you’re thinking of him. He wants to make you think of him.

“If you… need me… just text me. I’ll be there.” He says slowly, just a tad awkwardly. Trying to make it seem more like he’s just open to your communication rather than requesting it. He doesn’t want to seem desperate. “Well I’ll be like two hundred and… thirty miles away…” You say and laugh a bit. Although you’re melting a bit as he says that. “I drive really fast.” He jokes softly and it makes you laugh. His eyes seem to shine watching you laugh and smile. His face feels hot and he doesn’t know if he likes the feeling, it’s foreign to him. “Good to know… I will text you if I need you” You declare in finality, your hand on the door and a mission to make your train on time. “Good.” He nods and watches you go.

You leave his dorm, check over your packed bags and make sure you have everything to go before leaving. You make your train. You ride many hours back home. You get picked up when you reach the station and brought back to your childhood home. And all the while you can feel that ache. That reminder of his cock as he stretched you out. A reminder of the past month you’ve spent with him. It’s the first time you’ve been away for more than a day. The two of you have been a bit inseparable. It’ll be interesting to see what happens when you get back.

It’s Sunday evening and Miguel’s in his room, trying to do his lab homework but he can’t stop thinking about you. It’s only been three days since you left Friday morning but it feels like he’s in withdrawal. And he’s having some conflicting feelings, wondering how he let things get this far. This has never happened before. “What's wrong with me?” He groans and covers his face with his hands, running frustrated fingers through his dark locks. “What the fuck is my problem?” He frowns and checks his phone to see if you’ve called or texted him at all. Frustrated with himself for feeling so obsessed with you. He doesn’t like the feeling, not knowing what you’re doing or who you’re with. Since when do I care? He thinks to himself. He sighs when you haven’t contacted him but he does see a text from Peter inviting him to a party just off campus. Apparently a lot of the team will be there and maybe it will be a good way to get his mind off of you. He just can’t get you off his mind.

He arrives at the crowded house party with his signature scowl and is welcomed by all of his teammates, some of the guys on the university football team, other athletes and students all mostly drunk and partying away to blow off some steam before midterms next week. Lots of people watch him as he makes his way through the crowded house. His face is perfect from every angle so as long as you can see him, you’re seeing his good side. He doesn’t care for douchebags that want to talk his ear off, girls that drunkenly try to flirt with him, people that want his time. But everyone seems to want a piece of him.

“Come on, it's a party. Do you even remember parties, Miguel?” Peter teases and hands Miguel a beer, both of them standing in the kitchen which is just a tad quieter than the living room, urging him to drink and let loose. Peter and Miguel are close. Closer than Miguel usually allows, aside from you. It’s true, Miguel had been making up excuses to skip out on the usual parties and hanging out with his friends because he wanted to be with you. Miguel just takes the beer, not really responding. He looks out at the party going on around him with an unimpressed glare. “Dude, you seem more pissed than usual.” Peter snickers and grabs the beer, opening it on the counter and shoving it back in Miguel’s hand. “Looking for someone?” Peter follows his empty gaze at the crowd of people dancing and drinking. It’s a mess of booze and college stupidity. “No.” Miguel grumbles and takes a drink of his beer. Sighing through his nose.

“Did you see Dana? She’s been looking for you.” Peter comments and Miguel’s scowl darkens even more. “I’m sure she has…” He gives Peter a look. Dana is the most clingy and persistent girl he’s ever met. And she makes a fool of herself every time she tries to get with Miguel. They fucked once a while ago and now she’s like a mosquito he just can’t seem to smack. She’s naive to think the fact that he slept with her gives her some sort of claim to him. In fact it’s quite the opposite seeing that sex with Dana was nothing interesting to Miguel. She was whiny and obnoxious, and he only kissed her so she’d shut up. And she was too little for him, too frail. He needs someone like you, plush and perfect, just strong enough to take all of him. You take him better than anyone ever has.

“She says you’ve been all incognito the past few weeks. And I kinda agree. What’s been going on?” Peter asks casually and Miguel glares even harder. “Nothing. You can tell Dana to fuck off.” Miguel grumbles. He wishes you were here and he didn’t have to be at this stupid party. He wants to be in his bed with you, pounding into you until you’re crying over his cock, pulling your soft hair until you’re a moaning mess, kissing your sweet lips, your throat and your cheeks, listening to your soft cries and whimpers of how much you need his cock, pumping you so full of his cum that it dribbles out onto the sh-

“Miguel! Oh my god! You’re alive!” Dana approaches with a snarky smile and two of her friends by her side. She’s drunk and Miguel is not impressed. “Where have you been? Did you see my texts? You’ve been like… a ghost or something.” She whines, looking him up and down, her hand on his arm, a smile on her lips and a frown on his face. “Yeah, I saw your texts.” Miguel says simply and Peter snickers next to him. Dana raises her eyebrows agitated and sighs curtly. “So… you’re not gonna explain where you’ve been? You barely come to any events or anything. People honestly thought you dropped out or something.” Her hand moves up his arm . She’s the kind of girl that would come to his soccer games and practice to try to get his attention. But when he’d blow her off, she’d blow someone else on the team to make herself feel good again. She’d hang on his arm at school and athletic events. Just generally be a fucking nuisance in his life. She’d tried to wedge herself into Miguel’s life for going on four years with no luck and then he just sort of disappeared for a month with no explanation. So of course she’d notice.

But Miguel’s not keen on sharing what he’s been doing. That he’s been with you. Someone like you. You’re not like him. You’re not like Dana. You’re not like anyone he’s ever been friends with. That doesn’t make you less than everyone else, it makes you more than them. And that scares him. He doesn’t know why that is. If Dana or Peter or anyone found out about you, the way he thinks he feels about you, it would change the way they see him. He doesn’t want to admit that because he doesn’t want to seem soft like he’s falling for you or anything. He’s not soft. And he’s not… falling for you… He’s coarse and rough and cold and that’s how it’s going to stay.

“I’ve just been busy… practice and stuff.” Miguel mumbles and drinks his beer. He doesn’t care for Dana’s concern or giving her a reasonable explanation. Dana scoffs softly and shakes her head, her friends grab her arm and try to drunkenly coax her into returning to the party. “See you later” Dana smirks, running her hand down his arm as she tries to be all flirty but it’s honestly embarrassing. She hates that he’s so nonchalant, so unfazed by her. Miguel stays silent, watching her stumble off with her friends to go find someone else to bother.

He sighs and turns to Peter once more, annoyed at pretty much everything in this moment. “You have to admit, her ass is nice.” Peter jokes and watches Dana walk away. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing about her that’s nice.” Miguel glances back at her as she disappears into the crowd of people.

Over the course of the night, everyone just gets more and more drunk, except for Miguel who still can’t get you out of his thoughts and feels the need to stay at least a little bit sober in case you call him. But he throws back a few beers to try and loosen up. The music seems to get louder and the lights seem to get darker. He’s checking his phone all through the night, seeing if you’ve texted him and wondering if you’re thinking of him. Wondering who you’re with right now. What you’re doing. What you’re doing with the person you’re with right now. It makes him angry thinking about the possibility that you could be with another guy right now. He knows you went back home to be with family but still, he can’t help but be a little pissed imagining you with someone else.

What the hell am I thinking?

It’s late by the time Miguel decides he’s had enough. He says bye to Peter and starts heading out, pushing through everyone still crowding and moving. Making his way to the door and out into the hall. Sighing deeply once he gets out into the fresher air of the hallway, he straightens out the sleeve of his black varsity jacket. He looks to his left and his dark eyes narrow. Of course Dana is standing there. Totally wasted and leaning against the wall. He stays silent and just watches her, his instinct telling him to just walk away, leave her here. But he goes against his better judgment.

He stands there, glaring at her and keeps his hands in his pockets. He can see she’s completely drunk and not in her right mind at the moment. She may be a bitch but she is drunk and alone, maybe he shouldn’t just leave her here. If she were you right now, he’d bring you home himself to make sure you got there safely. He wonders if you need him at this moment even when you’re so many miles away.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I wai- was waiting for you…” Dana mumbles incoherently and smiles at him. “I don’t get you O’Hara… where’d you go?” She smiles and stumbles on her heels towards him, and he only catches her when she’s about to face plant into him. “Alright, come on now…” He grunts and tries to push her up to get her back on her feet. This is what he gets the one time he tries to be a little nice and not abandon her alone here. Her hands are all over him, in his hair and on his belt, tugging on him and pulling herself closer to him. “Just let me suck you off, okay?” She mumbles out of nowhere and starts messing with his belt buckle. She tries to get close, close enough to kiss him, reeking of cheap booze. His eyes widen and his lip snarls up in disgust. “What? No… cut it out.” He warns her, annoyed, trying to push her hands off without being too rough. He understands this situation could be taken out of context. She descends to her knees in front of him, he looks both ways down the hall for anyone coming, or anyone standing around. “Get up Dana.” He growls and she smirks up at him. “Oh come on.. don’t tell me you’re gonna say no to this… I literally send you nudes and you don’t even respond, what the fuck?” Dana whines drunkenly. Miguel’s disgusted. Dana has been walking on thin ice for a very long time. He should have blocked her when she texted him those pictures out of the blue and he should have just left her alone here when he had the chance. “You’re insane, stop it.” He scowls down at her and pries her hands off of his belt that’s half undone.

A month ago, Miguel probably would have let her blow him. Sure she’s annoying as all hell but that’s the kind of thing he’d probably enjoy. Fucking her so hard that she’d hate him afterwards. He probably should have done it a long time ago. That’s what he’d usually go for… someone who wanted it. Naive. Like you. He used to be proud of how many people he had in his circle that would give him whatever he wanted on the regular. They begged him for it, just like Dana is doing now. And that always made him feel good.

“What’s wrong, what are you whipped or something?” She teases with empty accusations, still on her knees and trying to get to his head. She’s never known Miguel O’Hara to have a serious relationship with anyone. No one has. “No. The fuck is wrong with you?” He growls angrily that she would even suggest that. “Then what’s your problem?” She groans and puts her hands on his belt again, trying to pull his hips forward. He’d lose his shit if people started viewing him in any other way than what he’s allowed. He needs to control what people think about him.

“You’re my problem.” He seethes and grabs a fistful of her hair in his hand. She gasps and smiles drunkenly, her hands rubbing down on him and thinking she's about to get exactly what she wants. He could just shove himself in her mouth and shut her up, maybe that would be easier. Just like last time. Use her for an easy fuck, maybe get his head straight after not hearing from you for days and not understanding what he’s feeling right now. Maybe he could just force himself to think of you as she does it. Try to ignore what’s actually happening and imagine it’s you. It’s probably the only way he’d manage to get hard. “Come on, I’ll be yours for the night, let’s just do it” Dana smirks and licks her lips running her hands up his shirt. His face hardens.

“…I’ll be yours…” Dana’s words echo in his head. But her voice is replaced with yours. “I want to be yours…” Your breathless voice rings out clearly in his mind. His first time with you, when he wanted you to be his and you said yes, and he felt his heart fluttering in his chest. He’d planned to use you like he’d used so many people before, just to get what he wanted. But what happened surprised him. He’d never felt that way with anyone before. He didn’t even know he was asking you to be his until the words flowed from his lips unrestrained. He’d never had the feeling of butterflies before and it makes him feel strange. Makes him feel weak. Makes him feel stupid. That’s why he doesn’t want to discuss all the relationship shit with you because he’s so damn bad at all of it. And he doesn’t even believe in any of it! Love is a transaction, it’s an exchange. It’s a business deal. What he feels doesn’t matter because it will never lead to anything worth his time.

“Get the fuck off me.” He growls and lets go of Dana’s hair, pushing her hands off and stepping back from her with an angry scowl. “I can get anyone I want. I just don’t want you.” He says meanly and Dana’s face looks hurt. “Don’t think for a second that I can’t do whatever the fuck I want.” He says threateningly and she backs up a bit, feeling intimidated which is exactly how he wants her to feel. That’s how he wants everyone to feel. He steps forward, towering over her, wanting to fuck that look off her face. Make her hate him so she’ll leave him alone. It would probably be very easy for him.

They get back to his dorm and he slams the door behind him. How dare Dana make him feel like he wasn’t acting the way he always does? And Peter noticing Miguel was behaving differently? He’s behaving the same way he always has. Nothing has changed. He wouldn't let anything change. He’s Miguel fucking O’Hara and he’s never had to work hard to get the things he wants. And not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you getting fucked by some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my fucking nerves, don’t you?” He seethes, holding her face in his hand. Scowling at her and ready to fuck the bitch right now.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

“Came back early :)”

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time.“Coming now” He texts right back. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She glares. “Yes! Get the FUCK. OUT!” He yells and her jaw drops, scurrying off his bed and running out the door.

He runs his hands through his hair, breathing heavy and seething angry. Looking for something to punch. He storms out the door and starts making his way over to you.

He gets to your door knocking hard. He’s wound tight, angry, confused. He takes a tense breath, letting it out slow, tapping his knuckles on the door and waiting in silence. He hears your steps, and his heart beats fast. He hears you opening the door and he gets nervous himself. What the hell is going on with him? He’s not used to feeling this way. And he’s also not used to being out of control of his feelings.

When you open the door, his eyes lock on your face. And it’s almost like everything slows down. And everything becomes so very crystal clear. He’s feeling so many things at once, all flooding and cross contaminating in his mind. How did you do this to him? Was it your doing? Or his? He’s used to being in control and for some reason it’s like his foot is on the gas and yours is on the brake. Or maybe the other way around? Or maybe both at the same time.

“Hey” You greet him with a smile and it’s like he can breathe again. It’s like the runaway train finally stops at the station, and you’re waiting there for him.

“Hi” He smiles with a sigh and lets his shoulder relax a little. Finding a bit of comfort in the warmth of your eyes and the gentleness of your smile. “Come on in…” You step aside for him to come inside and he does, taking off his jacket and running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy, I’m still unpacking stuff.” You say. “It’s okay…” He assures you and looks down at you before him. His hand comes up to your chin, his thumb pressing just below your bottom lip. He leans down and kisses you softly. Your taste, your lips, the drug he’s been needing, finally reentering his system. Your eyes flutter closed and you melt against his lips, kissing him back eagerly. He presses down on your chin with his thumb, parting your lips for you, giving you his tongue. You feel swirls of heat blooming in your chest at his kiss and his taste. It’s another one of those kisses. The ones he always does. The ones that make your knees weak. After swirling his tongue with yours, he gives you a series of little pecks on your lips. So many sometimes to the point that you open your eyes and that’s the only way he’ll stop. But this time you keep your eyes closed and bask in this moment.

You thought a lot about him when you were gone. It was only a few days but it feels like you were able to get your mind clear on a bunch of things. You have feelings for him. Real feelings. Your crush before is nothing compared to how you feel about him now. If anything it’s only gotten stronger. You want to be his for real and you hope he’ll feel the same.

“How did it go?” He asks with a soft smirk, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, running his hands down your back to your ass. You’ve been so close to him the past month, his touch like this just feels natural. He leans his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the smell of you, ghosting his lips over your neck. “It was good… a little hectic but good.” You speak softly as he starts kissing your neck and it tickles. “Mhm…” He hums and his hand comes up to the side of your neck, his thumb wrapping around to the other side of your throat. Kissing your neck up to your cheek. He kisses your lips again, deep and intense. His tongue immediately enters your mouth, playing with your tongue and running across your lips. All the while his hand is on your throat like it usually is, his fingers rubbing soft circles into the back of your neck. He pulls away from your lips with a soft smack, going back into your neck for more.

“H-how were things back here?” Your breath hitches at the feeling of him sucking into your neck. As you bring up the past few days his hand on your throat squeezes just a tiny bit, his mind going over just the past few hours alone which were enough to send him into a fit of rage. You really texted him at the exact right moment. If you hadn’t, he could be punching holes in his dorm room walls right now or he could be fucking Dana to dust which is the last thing he’d ever actually want to do. You have a way of doing that to him. Making his mind clear. But he usually finds a way to fuck it up. “It was boring…” He mumbles into your neck. It’s a lie but he doesn’t really want to talk about this weekend. He just wants to forget all of it and focus on you.

With a soft gasp from your lips, his arms scoop under your thighs, to your surprise, picking you up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and he walks you back to your bed. Wasting no time. He needs to have you. It’s only been three days but that’s way too long. He lowers you down onto the edge of the bed, your back hitting the blankets, his body between your thighs as he leans over you. His big hands run over your thighs as he spreads them wide, pushing down onto you with his hips. You feel his cock through his jeans, heavy and stiff, needing you, as if just the sight, smell and taste of you has made him rock hard in a matter of minutes. He presses his hard-on into you, making sure you feel it, reminding you of what you’ve been missing. At the feeling, you wrap your legs around him, in turn pulling him closer, his clothed dick pressing right where you need him most.

“Eager, little one?” He grins down at you looking down at you with a hint of pride, liking what he’s feeling. “Did you miss this, baby? You miss my cock?” His words are dirty but his voice is sweet. He smiles down at you, watching you grind against him, his eyes lighting up at the sight. His innocent little baby taking what you want. “Yes…” You breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip and feeling him stiff against your sex.

His arms wrap around your lower back and he pulls you closer, pushing himself into you, right where you need him. The barriers of clothing, soon to be removed but he’s just teasing you for now.

His eyes darken a bit as he looks down at you rutting into him like you’re in heat. He’d been worrying so much that you were with someone else. That when you went back home there would be someone waiting, ready to take what’s his. “Have you been with anyone else?” He outright asks you, his deep voice hums as he keeps grinding into you. His voice laced in something possessive, something dark. You look up at him and realize how serious he is about this. “No… I haven’t.” You reply innocently, feeling the heat building and the needy ache in your tummy getting harder to ignore. Does he think you’d be with someone else? You thought he knew you had feelings for him, that you enjoyed being his and only his. “Good…” He grins and leans down real close to your face, his lips dancing over your cheek. “You only cum if it’s on my cock. You understand that?” He whispers in your ear, his hand coming to your hair and pulling your head back slightly. “I-I understand…” You whisper and squirm slightly in his grasp.

“My baby…” He whispers and leans down to kiss your neck, grinding himself into you, the friction sending heat straight to your needy core. You run your fingers through his hair as he sucks brand new hickeys into your skin to replace the ones that have faded with time. You breathe in the smell of him, that you’ve missed so much. But it’s different this time. He smells sort of like perfume. Not any perfume that you’d be familiar with. He comes up to kiss your lips once more, swirling his tongue with yours and sucking the tip of your tongue into his mouth. It always makes you blush when he does dirty stuff like that. And he smiles watching the red wash over your face. You look in his eyes, your senses dialed to eleven. And he tastes like beer. In fact he sort of smells like alcohol too. He doesn’t seem to notice your apprehension and he leans up, pulling his shirt off, his perfect muscular physique on display in the dim light from the bedside lamp. And he leans back down to kiss your throat. Your hands instinctively go to his back, feeling his muscles as they tense and contract. He’s still moving against you, growing even impossibly harder. “Need you..” He whispers, moving his hand down between your thighs, eager to touch you once again.

“Miguel-“ You say softly and he leans up, kissing you quiet. His hand moving with purpose, under the waistline of your sweatpants and breaching the elastic of your underwear. He bites down on your bottom lip gently, moaning softly into your mouth as his fingers circle your entrance. Your hands go to the backs of his thick arms, holding onto him. His thick digits dip into you, stretching you out after time apart. Your hips wiggling slightly at the feeling, trying to adjust and relax. And he works up a steady pace. Fingering you slow but still intensely, getting you ready for him. A soft moan leaves your lips and he smirks, kissing your cheek. And you smell the perfume again. It’s definitely not a smell you know. It’s someone who was just with him. Who he was just with. Is he drunk? He seems really relaxed. More than usual. The thought of that makes you nervous.

“Miguel…” You hum softly and he kisses your lips again. “I know baby… does that feel good?” He whispers between kisses. His fingers pumping into you with increasing speed, curling and reaching deep to all the sweet spots he’s come to know so well. “Ugh… you make me need you so bad…” He whispers, his thick fingers stretching you out, making you wet for him. Preparing you for his achy, needy cock. He breaks away from your lips, leaning back and working your pants off to keep his fingers pumping into you, and you can’t help but roll your hips into his hand. He smiles and pulls back even more, letting your pants fall to the floor, his hand between your thighs, achingly pulsing and pumping as he runs a free hand up your tummy and under your shirt. Pushing your shirt up over your chest so he can see you. All of you. Naked and hot. He pulls his messy fingers from your heat and you can hear the metal clink of his belt being undone, and he desperately pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock for you. He’s going fast, he needs this. He needs you. It’s like he finally knows what he’s feeling.

“P-please can you just stop for a second…” You say softly, your hand on his arm as he pressed down on your tummy.

He hears your tone of voice and it’s not what he thought he’d hear. He knows how to read you very well by now and knows the difference between you playing hard to get or when you’re actually serious. This is you being serious.

“Yeah… is something wrong?” He asks softly, stopping himself and any further movements and focusing on your face. He takes his hand away, still leaning over you but not touching you so intimately anymore if you’re telling him to stop like this. “Are you okay?” You ask, looking in his eyes. You’re missing a few pieces to this puzzle and it’s concerning. “I’m fine.” He says lightly, brushing some hair off your forehead and behind your ear.

“Have you been drinking?” You finally outright ask him after tasting it on his tongue. “No…” He lies. And you know it’s a lie. So you just stay silent, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Well I- yeah I had a few beers… ” He finally says after the fact. Sighing a bit. He doesn’t know why he just lied, he just did. “How many beers?” You ask and he sighs again, “Look, I’m not drunk, okay? I’m not…” He says, brushing your hair back on the other side gently. He tries to bring back the mood. Leaning down to kiss you again and you press a hand to his chest.

“Wait.” You say flatly and you’re not done yet. He sighs and leans back, looking at you expectantly. “Were you with someone? Just now?” You ask and his eyes widen a bit. “No?” He lies again. And your eyes narrow. “You smell like perfume.” You say softly. The both of you sit in a beat of silence. The tension rises with every second he’s lying to you. “I was with Dana. But nothing happened.” He finally says simply and now your eyes widen. He was with Dana D’Angelo? And he smells like her perfume? What were they doing that she got her heinous perfume all over him. You frown up at him. “Why did you lie?” You ask. “What, I just told you the truth…” He insists, getting frustrated. “Yeah, after you lied… twice.” You say and he sighs getting defensive. “Can we please just-” He sighs as you pull away from him. Sitting up on the bed and cutting short what he thought was going to happen. He fixes his pants and sits on the edge of the bed facing you. And this conversation is triggering something in him.

“I didn’t know you were sleeping with other people but it’s fine. You didn’t need to lie to me about it.” You say softly, almost heartbroken, fully convinced that he just came from Dana’s bed or something because it certainly seems that way. He sighs. And silence falls.

“I’m not your boyfriend…” He mutters but you catch every word. “I don’t know what you thought was happening here but that’s not it.” He says, not even thinking before he speaks. He’s starting to feel frustrated again. And he feels defensive like you’re trying to force him to feel some certain way about you when in reality, he does have feelings for you. He looks up in your eyes and sees how much that just hurt you. He instantly regrets that. He shouldn’t have said that.

“I know. I don’t want you to be my boyfriend.” You say softly. It’s a lie but your instinct was right. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He can’t even make his mind up over you and you’ve been giving yourself to him for a month. He rolls his eyes and sighs loudly. His anger from earlier returning once the fog of fondness is erased by his fear of how important you’ve become to him. “This is a good thing… what we have going… don't ruin it.” He says meanly. And he knows it’s mean. “I’m not trying to ruin it… I’m just confused…” You say softly, sensing his rising anger. “Well don’t be confused! Just keep your messy feelings out of this! It shouldn’t be that hard!” He exclaims and he’s becoming the person he was when you were gone. The person he is without you. The man he’s always been. You’ve never had a fight with him before. Because up until now you thought you had a mutual understanding that this was something special. He calls you baby, you’re his little one, he couldn’t bear to spend a second apart from you and now this? Now he’s saying he doesn’t feel anything?

“It is hard for me! It’s hard for me to ignore what I feel for you!” You say close to crying and he scoffs. He can’t hear this. It’s messing with his head. He gets up from your bed, throwing his jacket on and all he wants to do is leave. He can’t hear this. He can’t.

“Miguel, please don’t leave!” You beg him and get off the bed, trying not to let him go. “Please! Talk to me! Tell me what you’re feeling!”

“No! This wasn’t supposed to happen… you were not supposed to happen.” He says harshly and it’s breaking your heart.

Should you tell him you love him? Keep it to yourself? You have a good feeling those three words are the exact ones he’s trying to avoid. “Miguel-”

“You weren't supposed to do this. I wasn’t supposed to do this! This is all… fucking fucked up!” He grits out and starts to leave your dorm. You’ve never seen him like this before and you have no idea what he’s feeling. So all you can do is watch him leave.

“Miguel-” You start but he closes the door before you can say anymore. It’s like every atom in his body told him he had to leave. Even if it’s tearing him apart. He said he’d keep you, he said you were his. And you believed him.

To be continued…

“Miguel has a late meeting that day and I offered for you to help him out. And he said he’ll pay.” She says, but you can’t handle this. You wonder how he feels about that. He didn’t outright ask for your help but seems like he didn’t refuse it either. He’ll pay? What the hell is going on? “Uh… yeah. I can do it.” You say, feeling a bit nervous about it but also weirdly excited. To see him. To be near him. Gabriella is also a really sweet girl so you know watching her for a few hours will be a breeze. 

Your parents leave for their respective duties, leaving you at home. And all you can do is think about him. The dream you had. It’s embarrassing now, since he probably just thinks you’re a weirdo who walks around in her underwear. He probably got second hand embarrassment. You should be dreading seeing him again. But you can’t help but crave it. Crave him. 

…

“Shit.” He had muttered after talking to your mom across the fence. When she elected you to babysit his daughter after he mentioned in passing not having anyone to watch her after school tomorrow and his ex is out of town. He should have said no, to spare you both the embarrassment. He almost had a hard time looking your mother in the eye when she said it. Knowing he’d had a dream about fucking you nights before. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, although they keep happening. You’re so pretty and young, fresh out of college and he feels like a creep for seeing you in your underwear like that. Even if it was an accident. What will you think? 

He can’t help but feel this tension across the fence. Like there's an electric current from your house to his, even though the two of you haven’t even seen each other since the incident. Maybe he’s imagining it. You’d probably never feel the same way. “What…?” He mutters, looking down at the mail he’s been absentmindedly sorting while he’s thinking all of this over. This isn't his mail. This has your dad’s name written all over it. 

He trudges out of the house, walking across the yard to your house. Checking your mailbox to see if his mail was also accidentally delivered here. A simple mixup, probably a new mail delivery person. When he sees the mailbox empty, he walks up the walkway to your front door. Preparing for your dad’s usual grumbles about the mail always being screwed up and packages being late. Knocking on the door. His eyes widening when your pretty face answers. 

…

“Oh sorry- hi good morning.” He says, a stack of mail in hand and like a deer in headlights. His and your hearts nearly stop. He should’ve known you’d answer the door, but it’s like he’s in a daze. You’ve been thinking about him all day and then he just shows up at the door? He’s a big man. Tall and broad. So seeing that look on his face and hearing his words just spilling out like he can’t stop them. It’s endearing. 

“Hi!” You reply once you find the voice to speak. Swallowing hard and looking up at him. Fuck, he’s hot. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Something smart with science in a tall office building in the middle of the city. White button down tucked into his pants, leather belt and sharp, handsome brown shoes; and the smell of his aftershave mixed with cologne wafts in through the open door. And here you are, in your pajamas, a tank and some little shorts. It’s the middle of summer, but why does this keep having to happen? He shows up all the times you’re barely clothed. This time there’s nowhere to hide. “So I… got your mail by accident. Here you go.” He says, reaching the stack of envelopes across the threshold. His dark eyes scan over your face when you look down. He wonders if you’re wearing those pink panties right now. “Thanks, wow must have just been a mistake then?” You look up and he nods, not even having heard what you said because he was distracted looking at you. Your hair, your bare shoulders and way your breasts sit so perfect and pretty in your tank top. He remembers seeing them spill out of that bra. Beautiful and soft looking. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m creeping on you.

“I think… you might have my mail too? I didn’t see any in the box.” He says after clearing his throat. Your mom got the mail this morning and she must not have had the chance to look at it very closely. “Yeah, maybe let me go see.”

When you turn away, he has to force himself to stop watching your ass, your hips and the way they sway. Is it obvious that I’m drooling over you?

It’s obvious. And you can’t stop the satisfaction you feel, grabbing that stack of mail off the kitchen counter and knowing you’ve got this big man on a leash right now. This could be fun. You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart and return. “Here it is!”

He smiles when you return, his hands clasped in front of him because of the thoughts going through his mind right now. He’s a man, not a teenage boy. And yet here you are, you’re this young thing making him feel all horny and hormonal. 

“Thank you... oh and thank you for offering to watch Gabriella tomorrow, I know it’s short notice.” He adds, hoping you’re cool with it. Wondering what’s going on in your head. “No problem, she’s sweet, I’d be happy to help.” You nod, smiling up at him knowingly and it makes him feel a little warm. “Well she’s excited too” He nods. It’s not a lie. Gabi’s always trying to talk to you when she sees you around. She’s seven and loves asking about where you got your shoes, your new dresses and how you do your makeup. She’s a very cute little girl, very polite too. 

He debates bringing up what happened a few days ago. But it seems like things are cool and you’re not totally freaked out. That’s good. 

…

Tomorrow comes, and at three you head over to his house. Walking across the yard and to the door, using the spare key he gave to your parents in case of an emergency. Waiting a bit until Gabi gets home off the bus and making lunch with her. Talking about all the little things her mind comes up with. She thinks it’s cool to talk about girly stuff with a girl that’s older. She just thinks you’re the coolest. She was just waiting for school to end until she could come home and hang out with you. To feel like a big kid. 

It’s funny being in his home. You’ve never really been inside like this since they moved in. But you’ve also been away at college for most of that time too. You catch a glimpse of his bedroom as you walk by, the dark sheets and neatly folded blankets. His shoes at the door. Mostly dress shoes but a few pairs of beat up Nike’s, his shoe size impressive. You can’t resist opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, pulling the cap off his cologne and smelling it. The scent is like a drug to your brain. It just smells like a man. Maybe you’re creeping on him a little in return. 

Soon the time is nearly 8pm and you’re helping Gabriella into bed. She really is a sweet girl and you’ve learned so much about her and her life. A lot of things that let you know Miguel is a really good dad. All the memories she’d recall with him, vacations and school projects, along with little things like trips to the park and him taking her to work with him. You studied all the family photos on the wall. Most of them of Miguel and Gabriella, some with what looks to be Miguel’s parents and his brother maybe? There’s one photo with his ex in it. It’s in Gabi’s room next to her bed. She’s a beautiful woman, undeniably. Definitely his same age and you can’t help but wonder about the history. Would you have a chance with someone like Miguel who’s already lived a whole life? He’s got everything worked out already and you haven’t even started yet. 

You don’t even know why you have these thoughts. When did the thought of sleeping with him turn into spending your life with the guy? It could all just be fun. If you do manage to sleep with him, it should just be for fun. Because after listening to his little girl talk about how wonderful he is; looking at the pictures on the wall; even observing the way he sets up his home, the color of the pillows on the couch, the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the settings on the kitchen table. This man’s a man. You’d fall in love with him so quick and easy. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening. Gabriella is settled in bed by now and your job here is done. Waiting in the kitchen and giving him time to adjust. Smiling to yourself. 

He stops at the kitchen door after walking in. His work clothes as attractive and sharp as always. His hair slightly less kempt than it probably was this morning. “Hey…how’d it go?” He greets, undoing the buttons at his wrist and rolling his sleeves up a bit, it’s been a long day. He leans against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. “Hi. Gabi’s in bed.” You smile, you could suck the soul out of him right now. 

“How was she?” He asks, unable to stop his eyes from roaming your pretty face. Could you be wearing those pink panties right now? Why must he have these thoughts? “She was perfect… She's so sweet. We painted our nails and I helped her with her homework.” 

“Wow… busy day.” He nods, walking across the kitchen, past you to the fridge. His cologne wafting past you. “What do I owe you? What’s your usual rate?” He asks, grabbing sparkling water from the fridge. “Oh it’s fine, you don’t need to pay me. You get the next door discount.” You joke.

“No, I insist. I said I would pay.” He chuckles softly, twisting off the cap and drinking some from the frosted cool bottle; your eyes flicking to his forearms, tanned and toned. “How about… $200?” He offers, and your eyes blow wide. “$200 for five hours? No way… that’s too much” You shake your head, but he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. That’s like $40 an hour. 

“Here… I have it right here.” He holds out two hundreds from his wallet. The money just appearing. “No I… it’s too much.” You refuse, not taking it. He can’t believe this. He’d spend a thousand dollars on you to get you anything you want. He’d love to do it with the way he’s been thinking about you for days. It’s no issue for him. And here you are refusing. He places it on the kitchen counter between the two of you, sliding it across. Your heart thumps in your chest. Your hand goes out, hovering over the bills before sliding it back to him. “Just pay for my dinner instead.” 

“Dinner…” His heart pounds in his ears. He has to make a choice. If he takes the money back, he agrees to do as you ask. Pay for your dinner. Take you out. He’s hoping that’s what that means. He’d get a chance to get closer to you and know you wanted him too. He could entertain this little thing going on between you two. Or. He could slide the money back and insist you take it. Go home and that will be the end of it. Refusing the chance to have you, to take you. 

He slides the money back towards himself. Scooping it up and putting it back in his wallet. Success you think. You smile to yourself, feeling so satisfied. “We can be in touch?” You say and it’s at this moment he’s wrapped around your finger. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you.” You say and grab your bag off the kitchen table. Slinging it over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. O’hara.” 

If you hadn’t turned to leave, you’d have seen him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Mr. O’hara. Just like his dream. Your sweet voice as he sheathed inside you. This is too much. He hears the front door close, letting out a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. “Hah…” 

He checks on Gabriella who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed. Going to his bedroom and winding down for the night. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off along with his tank top underneath. Walking to the bathroom in his boxers to brush his teeth. He stands in front of the sink, in the dim light of the bathroom, only the nightlight illuminating the tile. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush and something falls out. He looks down, flicking on the light when he sees it. A pile of pink and lace on the porcelain. He reaches down without a second thought, your panties dangling off of his fingers. What have I gotten myself into?

taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @sana-4 @peachey-pie @milkyardbetter @chrissymodi-frost

@pxtched @izakopanyi2 @lazyjellyfish300

You both head out, quickly marching down the walkway to your car. Each shielding yourself from the assault of pouring rain as you rush to the car already running. Finding warmth and safety inside away from the rain. As soon as you can see through the splatters on the windshield, you’re driving off, through the city streets to get to the emergency room. There’s no one on the roads this time of night. And you’re hoping there won’t be tons of people in the emergency room once you get there. 

“Hey so um…” He starts, after a bit of silence, driving through the city streets. “I… I’m-”

“Let’s just get there, okay? Let’s just go and get there and…” You sigh, the words falling off. Not wanting to cut him off but also not wanting right now to be when you both have this conversation. He swallows thickly, nodding and falling back into the quiet of the warm car. Clenching his fingers in his pocket and bouncing his knee gently in anxiety. You notice it out of the corner of your eye. You seem to notice everything about him. 

…

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there. “Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen. “Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak- “Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away. 

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information. 

“Birthday?” You ask, ready to fill it in. “You don’t have to do that…” He mumbles softly, reaching his left hand over to you. “You can write with that hand?” You ask him skeptically, raising your brow. It’s his right hand that’s out of commission. “We need this to be legible, I’ll just do it.” You wave him off and he sighs in sleepy defeat. Although he’s too tired to even care at this point. He’s more grateful that you’re even here right now, that he’s even here right now. That you’re helping him like this, let alone talking to him. 

“October 13, 2001.” He sighs, watching your neat handwriting fill in the little lines. “That just passed…” You mutter in realization, writing the date down. “Why didn’t you tell me when it was your birthday?” You sigh, looking up and gazing straight ahead at the empty chairs across the room. “That was like… two thursdays ago…” You grumble. “Sorry…” He sighs, not knowing what else to say for it. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t think it mattered. His mind is a mess. You look over at him, seeing the look on his face. That he really is defeated. Not his usual self. “It’s fine just…” Your words trail off. The silence heavy between you two. 

“You can tell me stuff like that.” You suddenly say much more confidently. Looking over at him, making him meet your eye. And he swallows hard, not knowing really what to say. “You were leaving the next day and I didn’t want to distract you…” He admits softly.

“Your birthday is not a distraction… it’s special.” 

Special? 

He nods, averting your gaze. Thinking to himself. There’s nothing special about him. 

“Place of birth.” You ask. “Uh… New York…” He replies softly, shaking those thoughts away, adjusting the ice on his knuckles. Bearing through the ache that comes with the cold on the hot swelling. You write down the information, continuing on. He’s quiet beside you, only answering when you ask him for information. Because his mind is occupied mapping out things he needs to talk about. He wants to apologize again, for real this time and explain himself. That’s the least he can do. Even though he feels like he’s 10 years old again for some reason. Feeling like you’ll be upset with him no matter what he says. No matter what he does. And he deserves all of it. 

“Emergency contact?” You ask. Distracting him from his thoughts. “Uh…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like your mom or dad or something…” You encourage, ready to write down whatever he chooses. “I… don’t want them to call my dad…” He admits softly, staring at the sheet on the clipboard. “So your mom then?” You assume, readying yourself for the contact info. “No…” He mutters, shaking his head, leaning back in his seat. Looking up from the form, you look at his face. Not quite knowing how to read it right now. You know he doesn’t like to talk about his parents at all. You’ve only heard about his brother and that’s it. But you didn’t think I’d be so bad that he doesn’t even want to call them in case of an emergency. 

“Okay… that’s okay we can figure out something else.” You offer softly. For some reason, instinctively, wanting to protect him right now from whatever it is he’s feeling. When it comes to his parents at least. “Yeah…” He mumbles, staring down at the ice on his hand and folding the corner of the plastic, fidgeting. 

You sigh. Not really wanting to get into everything right now. Just wanting to get back to your dorm and sleep. He needs sleep too. This week has been hell. So many weighted moments pass between the two of you. Silently sitting and listening to the bubbles in the fish tank constantly going. The bubbles disturbing the still waters surface and yet infusing the water with all the oxygen the life within needs. Disturbance pumping life into the already living. The living need disturbance to know they’re alive. 

He hears the sound of the pen scribbling on the clipboard. Tired eyes looking over to your lap. The emergency contact. A lump in his throat watching you fill in your name, your address, your phone number. All for him. All of this for him? How could he even begin to deserve it? He feels a huge rush of relief and watches the pen tip move across the paper. Until it gets to “Relationship:” 

“The doctor can see you now.” The receptionist suddenly says, bringing you both out of silence. Grabbing the clipboard, your keys, phone, standing up and ready to get this done and get out of here. Although there’s a part of Miguel that feels this is a last goodbye. Like things will never be the same after tonight. Maybe that’s a good thing. 

…

“Alright, so the fractures are here… here… and then a smaller one there. And we’re going to go ahead with the plaster cast so we can make sure everything lines up nicely.” The doctor says, pointing and gesturing to the x-ray on the wall. It’s been about half an hour now of x-rays and examinations. He has two broken fingers and part of his wrist is compromised too. 

“We’ll see how you do with the cast and have you come back in a couple weeks. There should be no reason for surgery if all goes well.” She says. Nodding to the two of you and grabbing some paperwork from the drawers in the room. 

“Will he have any sort of pain relief while this is going on?” You ask, concern on your face. Miguel can see it. It makes his chest hurt. You’re such an angel and he’s such a dick. 

“Yes, I’ll put in the prescription for painkillers and some antibiotics and you can pick it up tonight… I can send it to the 24 hour pharmacy pretty close to your campus if that works?… I recommend starting it as soon as you can and it will really help with the swelling.” She nods and writes down a slip for his prescription. “Thank you.” You smile and take the slip, Miguel soon following with his own quiet ‘thank you’. 

“I’ll be right back and then we can get this cast on, okay?” The doctor clicks her pen, taking her computer and leaving the room to go get the supplies to make up Miguel’s cast. 

If it were darker in this room, you’d be falling asleep. But the fluorescent lights blind you. Sitting in the chair next to the exam table, unable to resist resting your head on the table Miguel’s sitting on. Looking down at the almost finished document on the clipboard. Deciding what to write. It’s stupid, it shouldn't matter that much. It doesn’t matter so much if it’s just for his emergency contact; just that the information is in there. Girlfriend? No. Partner? Probably not. Where do you stand? More importantly… Where do you want to stand with him? It’s not just his decision at the end of the day and you’re trying to stop letting him call most of the shots. What do you want to be? Do you want to be his girlfriend? Do you actually want that? Or has his behavior over the past month and a half shown you that he can’t be a good partner even if he wanted to? It’s late; you’re tired; why must you make this decision right now when everything is still so fucked up? Closing your eyes, laying your head on the edge of the table, you’re playing a dangerous game. Will you be able to open them again once you pass the threshold? 

“I’m sorry.” He says. Coaxing your eyes back open, looking over at him. 

“Miguel-” 

“Please… I need to say something…” He insists softly. Not looking at you, staring at the floor, trying to keep that list in his head. “... a lot of things…” 

He sighs, rubbing his good hand down the fabric of his sweatpants, nervously. Like all the sentences he’s thinking are the most idiotic combinations of words strung together. You watch him a bit wide eyed, just waiting for the words to come out. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted. What I said. It was the wrong way to go about this… everything.” He sighs. Trying his best to be honest and hoping you won’t throw it back in his face. Why is that always his first thought? 

“I was a jerk. And then when I tried to… apologize I just… was an even bigger jerk.” 

He admits. Glancing over at you to see your reaction. Feeling an odd sense of ease at the soft expression on your face. You’re really listening. 

“I was not drunk on Sunday. I promise you. I went to a stupid party and… had a few beers but nothing… major.” He explains. Checking off the boxes in his head. All the things that went wrong, all the things he needs to apologize for. You look down and back at him. Feeling both satisfaction from his explanation and regret over this entire situation. 

“And Dana… she’s… always hanging around me and… but I didn’t do anything with her on Sunday. I tell her no and she's still just all over me and... I’m not sleeping with her, I’m not sleeping with anyone. It was just you.” He says, looking in your eyes. And you believe it’s true. That’s the thing you regret. Jumping to conclusions the moment you smelled Dana’s perfume on him. That probably wasn’t right to do and there was no reason for it. But his response to it all was still uncalled for. 

“I don’t want you to hate me. Please… I don’t think I can take it. But I know I deserve it.” He whispers. Looking away, staring at the linoleum floor. 

“Can I tell you something… personal?” He suddenly asks. His eyes locked on the checkered pattern on the floor. 

“Of course…” You hum, giving him your full attention. This is a big deal. Getting him to share this much. Connecting with him like this after feeling so far away. He swallows hard. Thinking hard. Why must this all be so hard for him?

“I’ve never really been in a relationship before.” He admits softly. You’re shocked to say the least. He’s always been the player type and had girls all around him. But never a relationship? Not even in high school? Seems impossible for someone like him. “Hm…” You hum. Mostly to let him know you’re actively listening. And not judging. 

“My parents um…” He starts, fidgeting anxiously. “Ever since I was little… like since I was born… my parents always… cheated on each other?” He admits. You’re stunned into silence and he keeps going…

“It wasn’t like… an open marriage or anything…” Your face softens in sadness hearing his admission. Your heart snapping in two. “Now that I’m older I know the language but… as a kid I never understood.” He explains. A thoughtful look on his face like he’s thought all of these things a million times but never uttered a single word about it out loud. 

The correlation between the two admissions is becoming more clear. Never having a relationship because the one relationship he’s supposed to look up to, his parents, is filled with betrayal and distrust. “I’m not saying… that that’s an excuse I’m just… I-I don’t know…” He sighs, shaking his head. 

You just listen and watch him in silence. Feeling three things. Honored that he would share this with you. Responsibility to keep this information guarded. And heartbreak, thinking about that kind of pain, and that he feels the need to explain all of this. 

“You ever think about like… getting too comfortable and then… when everything goes to shit… that’s your own fault right?” He asks more directly now, looking over at you. Maybe he does want an answer. “Like when you tell yourself that someone really cares about you… and then turns out they don’t. Not as much as you think?” 

“No. I don’t think that’s your fault.” You finally speak now that he wants an answer. Genuinely. He looks in your eyes. You want to hear more. It’s the most he’s ever opened up to let you in his head. 

“I can’t let myself feel that way.” He sighs. Looking up at the ceiling and letting out a deep breath. You know this is really hard for him. 

“You think I make you… feel like you can’t be comfortable?” You ask softly, trying to clarify, trying to understand him.

“No you… make me feel… very… comfortable.” He admits in a sigh. Like the words keep getting stopped but he pushes through, forcing them out. The words would be impossible if not for his efforts. 

You pause, thinking about what he said. Remembering when he said you made him feel steady. That moment meaning so much more now. You make him feel comfortable but he can’t allow himself to feel comfortable?

“And when you started… trying to tell me how you were feeling…” He sighs. “I just panicked and…” His words trail off, you take a deep breath. Remembering Sunday night, asking him about Dana, about the beer, on the cusp of telling him you were falling for him. That confusion and anger. Remembering what he said about messy feelings, about not ruining what you two had. When he said you weren’t supposed to happen. It all makes a lot more sense now. "I don't know what I'm feeling... I don't think I ever really know."  

“I think that’s why I usually only… spend one night with someone and then… it’s over. I’m an asshole, I know… I wasn’t thinking of you that first night. At least not at the start.” He admits. Which makes sense. He feels guilty knowing he’s never been fair to his partners or himself. Plowing through any sort of feeling that might arise. But when you came along, that all became much harder. Not harder; impossible. His feelings for you were impossible to ignore. “But you’ve never left my mind since then.”

“You’re the longest I’ve ever… stuck with someone I guess. Or that you’ve stuck with me.” He says softly. Stealing glances at you, fearing your reaction just a bit. You’re shocked to say the least. A month and a half? He’s really never gotten closer to anyone else before?

Being his. That’s what you’ve thought of all this time. Because that’s how it always was. He would ask you to be his, tell you to admit it and you always said yes, you always complied. Because you wanted it to be true.

“Are you afraid that if you and I were together… that I’d cheat?” You ask, being careful around his feelings. Thinking he must be afraid to go back to those feelings brought by his parents. When they cheated on each other, they cheated him too. You want to treat his feelings with sensitivity unlike everyone else it seems. 

He’s silent for a few moments. Thoughtful. “Maybe. Probably.” He admits. Which is reasonable if he’s been dealing with those kinds of trust issues since he was a little boy. “But I think I was… just scared to lose you. Like losing you is scarier than not having you at all.” 

“But I couldn’t not have you. I couldn’t.” He sighs. “I was selfish and I’m sorry.” 

He stares at the floor, all regret and heartbreak. So many things laid out in the open. You almost don’t know what to say. Almost. 

“Miguel…” You address him, standing up and stepping around the small room for a moment. Then focusing back on him. 

“I forgive you.” 

He instantly looks up at you. He could cry. Relief in the purest form shot right into his soul. 

“I can’t relate to your feelings with your parents and… everything. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand.” You say softly. He nods in understanding. His heart feeling a lightness he hasn’t felt since… ever. 

“Being with you made me… feel confident and… wanted? I guess… no one’s ever made me feel that way before.” You admit. Sharing your own confessions. His eyes follow you every step around the room as you pace and speak. He’s surprised to have caused you anything but pain.

“I really liked you… even before all this started… even though I didn’t even really know you,” You sigh and chuckle softly at the thought. Knowing you fell in love with him when it felt like he wanted no one but you. And that might have been true but you were in love with the idea of him. The idea that someone like him would be in love with you.

“But I realized that the image of you that I have in my head is nowhere near who you really are. And I think you did the same for me.” You explain. He nods, knowing that’s exactly right. His first chapter with you is an unreliable memory. 

“So I forgive you.” You nod. And he just looks up at you in awe. Like his heart will explode. He’s never felt this way before. Ever in his life. Is this what it feels like to be in love? To fall in love? Has he been falling all this time and now he’s completely fallen? 

There’s a knock at the door. An interruption to this discussion but your words echo in his mind. And he never wants to forget them. “Okay, ready to get started? We’ll do this nice and quick and you guys can be on your way…” The doctor smiles, wheeling in a tray of materials and supplies. “Thank you” You smile and nod, moving over to make room for the doctor’s supplies; standing next to where Miguel is sitting to watch the process; mainly out of curiosity. You keep an eye on Miguel’s face. Seeing he’s still deep in thought. It’ll take more time to understand him, but tonight is a good first step. 

You watch the doctor start the process, absorbing the information she’s explaining, the instructions for care and the longer term things. Follow up appointments and such. You make sure to listen because Miguel doesn’t seem like he can listen very well right now. 

You watch his uninjured fingers still fidgeting with the hem of his pants. And for the second time you want to protect him. You want to make him feel… comfortable. You realize. That’s what he needs. 

You reach across, taking his left hand in yours. Causing him to look up, squeezing gently as his fingers eagerly lace with yours. And it’s like all of a sudden he can feel the table under him, he can hear the doctor’s voice, he can feel the sleeve going on his arm, he can feel the pain in his hand. To get out of his head and come back into the real world around him. That’s what you’ve always done. You’re like an escape and you didn’t even know you were doing it. He didn’t even realize. Imagine how things could be if he just opened up. If he wasn’t afraid of how you’d react. If you’d put him down, chastise him for his feelings. Like he alway has been all his life. 

“Miguel?” You hum, to get his attention after the doctor's attempts. The noise of his thoughts muting at the sound of your voice. “Hm?” 

“What color do you want?” You ask softly, gesturing to the doctor holding out samples of the cast wrappings. Your thumb rubbing gently over the back of his knuckles. He can feel that too. “Oh uh… I don’t know.” He shakes his head slightly, feeling so overwhelmed in both good and bad ways. Overwhelmed with his feelings of love and fear. “You could get blue for the team colors…” You suggest with a soft smile, thinking of his soccer uniform, looking over the options that the doctor has laid out. Treating him with tender care, wanting to do it, no matter the things that have happened. It’s all in the past now. He smiles softly at your cute suggestion. “Yeah sure, blue is good…” He nods a slight smile at the doctor's kindness and patience. She nods and gets to work. Wrapping his cast up and letting it all set and harden. The blue material going from his fingers nearly up to his elbow. 

“Alright, your 4 week appointment is all set, and you have the slip for the prescription. Come back if anything happens, or if you have any questions just call the non-emergency line.” The receptionist says. A kind smile on her face, looking up at the both of you, two kids tired out of their minds, hanging onto life and each other by a thread at this point. “Thank you very much.” Miguel nods with a smile. His injury now supported, already feeling less like it’s just hanging off his body. 

You hand over the clipboard. Realizing you never decided on it. The relationship. Because it’s complicated. And you figured a blank line is better than a scribble of eraser marks. 

“Have a good rest of the night… or morning I suppose.” She nods. Because yes, it is 4 a.m. at this point. 

Leaving through the automatic sliding glass doors, stepping out into the very early morning. A soft glow of the imminent rising sun lighting up the sky. But it’s still very dark out. The birds haven’t even started to wake up and beckon the morning. He walks up beside you as you both head into the parking lot to get to your car. It’s still sprinkling slightly, some far away thunder rolling. 

“How does it feel?” You ask, looking over and seeing the blue material on his arm peeking out from his sleeve. “Feels better than before… still hurts.” He sighs, taking a few longer strides and reaching the driver door first. Opening it for you. “Do you want me to drive?” He offers softly. “No, you only have one hand.” You quickly refuse. 

“I can drive with one hand… and you’re tired.” He insists gently. “You’re tired too. And you have broken fingers.” You smirk, winning this, getting into the driver's seat. He huffs out a breath of laughter and relents, closing the door after you and walking to the passenger side. 

“Take this…” You flail the prescription slip in front of him. His eyes blinking tiredly and he traps the piece of paper between his good fingers. Brow furrowing in focus and reading the information. It’s a bit blurry since he doesn’t have his contacts in. “Let’s go get that acetaprofin…” You sigh, turning the car on. 

“Wait, what did I say?” You look at him, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Acetaprofin?” He asks with a smile. “You mean acetaminophen? Or ibuprofen. I think it says acetaminophen on the sheet.” He can’t help the giggles that erupt in his chest. Beyond exhausted, the both of you. “No! I said that! I said acetaminophen.” you giggle, looking over at him, watching him starting to lose it with laughter. 

“Nooo you didn’t…” He teases, wiping his eyes from laughing. “You said acetaprofin which is like… some acetaminophen and ibuprofen hybrid.” 

“No I didn’t. Gimme that!” You snatch the paper out of his hand and point to the drug name on the sheet. “A-ce-ta-min-o-phen.” You sound it out as he’s giggling, not even looking at the paper, he’s looking at you. “I know what it says. That’s not what you said.” 

Your eyes light up watching him smile and laugh. “Maybe not.” You admit, smiling. You can’t help but laugh yourself. It’s not even that funny, you both know that. But you’re both so tired, everything is funny. “Well science boy, maybe you should do your thesis on acetaprofin…” You joke. 

“Yeah, I’m sure Alchemax would love that. A thesis on combining two drugs that do pretty much the same thing…” He sighs, the both of you coming down from a laughing fit. Sitting in your running car, in the corner of the emergency room parking lot, in the middle of the city, at four in the morning. 

“Hah…” He sighs. That laughter was much needed. For both of you. “Y’know… we don’t have to go get it now. We can just go back to school. I can get it myself another day.” He says. Knowing you’re both exhausted and feeling bad for keeping you awake for so long. Although he does enjoy spending time with you again. Feeling like he doesn’t have to put his shield up. It’s harder to do when you’re not having sex. When he’s just being purely himself. It’s a new feeling.

He feels a little strange. Not just because he’s running on fumes but because of what he told you. But you don’t seem to be treating him any differently. If anything, it’s just making him feel a little closer to you. He’s never felt something like that before. Like you could be… someone he confides in. The first person on his mind. That’s what’s happened for the last month and a half anyway. 

“No way… we’re getting your damn acetaprofin if it’s the last damn thing I damn do.” You protest, putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. On a mission. A mission of pain relief.

“Picking up for O’Hara?” You say at the pharmacy desk, the old woman behind the register typing into the old computer to bring up the prescription. “Date of birth?” She asks, looking at the two of you over the edge of her glasses. Miguel steps forward to answer. 

“08/13/2001.” You state before he can. A satisfied smile on your face for knowing his birthday now. Even if he didn’t tell you the day it was happening. 

“It’s just been sent in… I’ll make it up for you.” The old woman says, her New York accent quite thick. And she moves around slowly to go make up his prescription acetaminophen and antibiotics. “Okay thank you.” Miguel smiles. The two of you having to wait some more this morning. 

… 

“Strawberry or Cherry?” You sigh, holding out two packs of twizzlers in front of him. The two of you migrating to the candy aisle and looking through the endless sweets. “Strawberry obviously.” He nods, pointing at the pack, keeping his cast wrapped arm close to his chest, a sign to you that the pain is in fact bothering him. “Obviously.” You nod. Totally agreeing. 

“Ha. I had to give my brother the heimlich once with one of these.” You cringe and hold up a box of Lemonheads. “Oh no, really?” His eyes widen, meeting your eyes. What if that had been Gabriel?

“Yeah, and then my mom banned them from all the kids…” You giggle, putting it back on the shelf and looking at another candy item. He grins at the thought, imagining what your family must be like. After all the little things you’ve told him. Your parents and siblings. It’s like a different world he’s never stepped into before. 

“This is Gabriel’s favorite…” He nods and points to a box of warhead hard candies on the shelf. “We used to have competitions” He smiles, looking at you. “Oh the ‘see who can hold it in their mouth the longest without spitting it out’ competition? I know it well…” 

“Mhm.” He nods, enjoying feeling like he can be similar to you in some way. He does love Gabriel a lot and hearing the way you’ve always talked about your own family makes him feel good. Even if his own family doesn’t feel like much of a family at all. 

…

“These lights are so bright.” You huff, crouching down and looking in the makeup aisle. Miguel leaning against one of the shelves and trying not to fall asleep standing up. “Which one… on my skin?” You sigh, grabbing two blush shades, standing up with whatever energy you have left. Holding them up to him. He blinks tiredly and takes the two small things from your hands, walking right up to you and holding them up to your cheeks. “What am I looking for?” He asks, holding each one on the sides of your cheeks. Your eyes closed. 

“Just for… which one matches best for my undertooooones…” You drawl with eyes still closed, feeling the backs of his fingers on your cheeks. “Undertooooones…” He echos softly and teases. “Hmm…” He hums, looking back and forth and then just looking at your face. Your lashes, your lips. Feeling like he could just kiss you right now. It would be so easy to just peck your lips. 

“So?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts. “Uh I think this one… I don’t know. That one is pretty.” He sighs, ignoring the urge to kiss your lips. Knowing he probably shouldn’t. But he wants to. Your eyes flutter open, causing his heart to flutter at the sight. Your hands coming to grasp his wrists. The two products in his fingers. Looking down at the one he chose. “Yeah, I like that one.” You nod and he adds it to the small pile of candy and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out around the store. 

…

“Mm this one is good…” Miguel holds a bottle of shampoo over to you. Letting you smell it. “Coconut Milk and turmeric…” You mumble, reading the scent on the bottle before clasping your hands over his hands around the bottle and smelling. The rim of the bottle touches your nose, getting some soap on there. “Ah- yeah it smells good” You giggle, shampoo above your lip. “Oh no sorry…” He laughs, the two of you deliriously tired. His other hand comes up to wipe the soap off, rubbing over the ridge of your lip and getting it off. All while you’re both quietly giggling among the shampoo selections. 

“Are we being too loud?” You giggle, whispering and looking up at him. There’s no one else in here it’s so late but still you’re both giggling endlessly in the aisles. “Probably…” He whispers, putting the shampoo back on the shelf. The two of you standing close, huddled next to the shelves and aimlessly looking around waiting for his prescription to be ready. 

…

 “I didn’t know they sell vibrators at the drug store…” You comment. Wandered into the aisle of sexual health and products. Staring up at the row of vibrators on the top shelf, kept in those plastic cages. Needing the employees' help to unlock it. “I guess… maybe people need it… for medical… things.” He sighs behind you. Like zombies, the two of you. 

“What kind of medical things?” You raise a brow at him, turning around to face him. He takes a closer look at the boxes, lifting one toy and reading the back of it. 

“Mm… neglected clit disease?” He jokes, looking up in your eyes. A smug look on his face and a smile spreading over yours. His eyes gleaming watching you laugh. “Stupid boyfriend syndrome?” He adds. “Yeah possibly…” You nod. 

“Boyfriend with broken fingers disorder.” He smiles a goofy grin, holding up his cast and shrugging. His poor broken fingers. Boyfriend. 

“Yeah you’re right… it’s on the rise…” You laugh softly and nod. He nods, reading the back of the box and turning to look at the other models on the shelf.

 Your eyes scan over the side of his face as he turns. Wanting to reach out and run your hands through his hair like you’ve done so many times before. But it’s never been like this before. Just the two of you like this. Like friends. But there’s something extra obviously because you’ve seen each other naked more times than you can remember. But being away from him was like rehab from an addiction. An addiction to him, the feeling of him, the way he can make you feel.  

You roll your eyes and smile. Turning to leave the aisle. He smiles that same grin. Watching you start walking, he looks down at the box in his hand. Piling the vibrator on the stack of items in his arm with a smirk on his face. Among the candy, makeup, shampoo and miscellaneous things you’ve both picked out, the sex toy like a cherry on top. 

…

He smiles watching you huff and sit down on the floor. Right in the middle a different aisle. Paper and stationary on one side and birthday cards on the other. Tilting his head and looking down at you on the floor. Sharing your exhaustion. “How does it feel?” You ask and he walks over, sitting down in front of you, criss crossed and facing you. Setting the items down on the floor too. 

“It hurts…” He admits, not feeling the need to lie about it. Not anymore. You nod and yawn. Looking over and seeing a pack of black sharpies. Leaning over to grab it. 

“Can I write on it?” You smile and brighten up at the thought. “My cast?” He grins and watches you. Your excitement. 

“Yeah a little message or a doodle” You pull open the pack of markers. Planning to just pay for them on the way out. “Fine, just no dicks, okay?” He teases and you feign disappointment at his request. He scoots closer to you as you hold out the sharpie for the blue material on his arm. “Hmm…” You think of what to write or draw for your masterpiece. Since he’ll have it on there for a few weeks you want to make it count. 

He’s just smiling, watching your pretty face as you think of what to write, his arm draped over your lap and your fingers dancing over his upper arm to hold it in place, pen in hand. 

You start shaking your head and he can tell you’ve thought of something. “What?” He grins. “No… nothing.” You smile, shaking your head. “Come on… do it. Whatever you thought of, just write it.” 

“No I can’t.” You smile nervously, looking up in his eyes. “Yes you can.” He replies in the same tone. Gesturing to his cast. “Write it.”

“Close your eyes.” You demand and he does so. His eyes fluttering closed. A smile on his lips. You debate it for a second. The thing you thought of was originally sort of supposed to be a joke but it could also not be a joke at the same time. You don’t want to make things awkward or more complicated. Shaking your head, you decide to just do it. Maybe he’ll laugh. The felt tip scratches on the hardened blue material. He waits patiently with eyes closed until finally…

“Done.” You sigh, already feeling embarrassed. But it’s on there and it’s permanent. His eyes flutter open, searching the cast on his arm. Eyes scanning over the black cursive letters. Just one small word. 

Mine. 

His eyes lock on the word. Reading it over. Over and over then looking up at you. After all that’s happened, all he said, all that went on. You know and he does too, that you’re being very generous with your heart. As you’ve always been. 

“I like it…” He hums softly, nodding and looking back down at the writing. After seeing that slight blush of embarrassment on your cheeks. 

Is this all he’s ever wanted? To be yours. And for you to be the one to make it so? All the times he made you his, all the times he claimed you, took you, those times don’t compare to this one. This little word, written by your hand, from your mind, your heart. He won’t take it for granted. 

“I should’ve just drawn a dick…” You shake your head and smile. The tension dissolving then. Meeting his eyes for a moment. Unable to hide the bit of embarrassment. You don’t want to repeat patterns of the past. But you also want to be honest about your feelings. “Fine, you can draw a dick.”

”Really??!” 

“No!!” He laughs. “I was just kidding!” 

“No, you said it so I can do it!” 

“No no no, I take it back!” He refuses with a smile, shaking his head and laughing, his eyes locked on your smile. Again, he just wants to kiss you. To kiss you again after feeling like it’s been forever since he’s had the chance. “Come onnnnn…” You smile and he shakes his head, wanting to take your face into his hands and kiss your lips. It almost makes his heart sore, knowing that he really shouldn’t do it. And he’s trying to be careful. Holding so tightly onto this olive branch. 

“Let’s go see if it’s ready now, yeah?” He suggests, needing to change the subject for his own sake. “Fine…” You whine, watching him rise, accepting his hand when he stretches it out to you to get up from the floor. 

…

You both watch the old woman scan the items and the prescriptions. Rolling your eyes at Miguel’s smirk when she scans the vibrator, taking off the protected cage around the box. The woman having absolutely no reaction to the item. She just doesn’t care, not at this hour and probably not at any other hour either. 

You look for some money to pay for the makeup and the things you picked out but before you can he puts his card in the machine, reaching his arm around your waist to press the numbers. His chest pressing to your back slightly. You watch the thick black card go into the machine. The numbers going in and the ding when it accepts easily. “Thank you, have a nice night.” The woman says, her voice low and gravelly but she’s been kind overall. 

“Thank you.” Miguel nods and grabs the bag off the counter after taking his card back. “Thanks!” You smile and start walking, with him right beside you. “Where’s the receipt? I can give you some cash for my things…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures. Shaking his head and holding the bag of items in his good hand. 

“If you say so…” You sigh, walking beside him as you both leave the drug store. “Thank you…” 

The sun is just starting to light up the early morning sky now that it’s about 5 am. Birds starting to chirp. “I need to sleep.” You sigh, getting in the driver's seat. And Miguel in the passenger seat with the bag of things on his lap. “I can drive if you want…” He offers again with a yawn, stretching his back slightly, his head against the headrest. “No it’s fine, it’s only a few minutes…” You assure him, buckling up and starting the car to get back to the dorms. 

You start driving, pulling out of the parking lot and turning through the city streets. There are a few cars out but nothing compared to the morning rush to start in a few hours. The city slowly starts to light up with the sun. It’s not even over the horizon yet, just lighting the sky with anticipatory sunshine. He’s stealing small glances at you as you drive. Feeling funny inside. He doesn’t know quite how to place this feeling. It doesn’t feel bad, he knows that much.

“So it says… take two of these… and one of these morning and night.” You read the prescription bottles for acetaminophen and antibiotics. Standing at the door of his dorm room, in the doorway and giving him the slip from the doctor to have. “Thank you.” He nods softly, genuinely. Although that one thank you doesn’t even cut it. He doesn’t think so. 

“I can’t believe we literally stayed up all night doing that.” He sighs, walking into his dorm. Glancing back at you and trying to be subtle, wanting to see if you’ll follow him inside. Only wanting you to do it if you want to. You follow him in, replying in similar disbelief, not noticing his glancing and watchful eye. “I know, well we had to wait so long for everything.” You huff, sitting on the edge of his bed and grabbing the bag of things when he drops it next to you. 

You grab the pack of twizzlers and watch him take the prescription bottles to swallow his pills. Eyes widening in realization when he takes a pair of round framed glasses out of a case on his desk. He puts them on, reading the small print on the bottle. And you try to suppress the biggest smile. He wears glasses? How did you not figure this out? Regardless, he’s adorable. 

“Do you need any help?” You ask softly. Watching him trying to maneuver the lock top with one hand, eventually trying to hold it between his knees and undo it with his good hand. “No thanks, I got it.” He looks over at you, instantly doing a double take seeing the way you’re smiling at him. Or the way you’re obviously trying not to smile. What’s got you smiling all pretty like that?

“I like your frames…” You smile and comment, his cheeks instantly reddening when he realizes that’s why you’re smiling. Looking over at you like a deer caught in headlights and the top of the bottle finally pops off, he flinches trying to keep the pills from spilling all over the floor. “Oh, thanks.” He smiles bashfully, feeling a bit embarrassed but he can’t help stealing glances at your face when you're smiling like that.

You smile softly, feeling a bit sympathetic to him having to learn a whole new way of doing things. Only a little bit though since he is the one that punched his own locker in. 

“Sorry if your sleep is fucked for the rest of the week…” He clears his throat, getting some water to swallow his pills. Turning for a second and trying to stop the hot blush on his cheeks. You’re the only person who’s ever made him blush like that. Just by looking at him. You watch him from the bed, biting and pulling the strawberry licorice candy, the only thing you’ve eaten all night. “It’s fine… it needed to be done.” You nod. Not feeling resentful or upset with him. It was your choice to show up after all. 

“Well thank you” he smiles over at you, situating a few things before walking over to the bed, sitting next to you on the edge and grabbing a piece of candy for himself, biting a piece off and sighing, flopping back to lay down on top of the blankets. You do the same, mirroring his action, laying down on your back and biting your candy as well. The two of you just lying in silence and exhaustion. 

“So… we can be friends right?” He suddenly asks, you look over to see he’s on his side facing you. You take a moment to think. Friends is better than what’s been going on for months. You roll over too to face him, biting your licorice and thinking. “Yeah… I think so.” 

He smiles softly, nodding with relief. 

“Just don’t lie to me again.” You say and his expression turns serious, understanding. “Just be honest with me and I’ll do the same. Tell me how you’re feeling. I’m not the kind of person to… judge you for your feelings, y’know?” You say like it’s some casual thing. Not seeing how it’s affecting him. But he could cry if he let himself. He feels like he’s dreaming.

I should tell you how I’m feeling. I should tell you that I’m in love with you. I love you. I love the way you speak to me. The way you make me feel. I love the way you care for me. The way you think of me even when I can’t think for myself. The sound of your voice, the feeling of your hair between my fingers. The memory of your heartbeat against my chest, your fingers on my back, your breath on my neck. The look in your eyes when you’re laughing; your smile. The tone of your voice when you sigh my name. I thought I wanted you to be mine. And that might have been true. But I wanted to be yours all the more. 

But he doesn’t say any of that. He just nods and smiles softly, grabbing another piece of candy and stealing small glances your way. Laying beside one another as the early morning goes by, the exhaustion overtaking the both of you in time. Soon you’re both asleep. 5 am. 6 am. 7 am and into the morning. Catching up on the lost hours. But not regretting a single moment of this night. 8 am. 9 am. 10 am. 11 am. Noon. Morning classes are long passed and forgotten. Sleeping beside one another on top of his soft blankets. Not even the daylight through the window could wake you from this slumber. 

To be continued...

Reblogs and comments very much appreciated!!

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone let me know if you want to be dropped/added):

@miguels-cock-piercings @queerponcho @club-danger-zone @bossva @softcrayon

@nommingonfood @bruhhvv

@jessies-unrelagated-thoughts @mauvecherie-writes @haveclayeveryday @kimivixen

@jadeloverxd @chiikasevennn @mvlanchqly @resident-cryptid

@x0tw0d57 @vampyboys @miguelspriscilla

@francesca-the-1st @migueloharasbbm @razertail18 @laysmt

@tojiragdoll @maiyart @wazawazooo @mun-2996 @marshhbs

@curious-randomlr @safixiovi @daddyfroglegs @theplaid-wearingmoose @reader-1290

@yeanika @elysiumsangel @rinnako @mangoslushcrush @twwcs

@izakopanyi2 @migueloharasoulmate @slut4oscarissac23

@miss-loomis @genny101

@aphinthestars @webshooterrr9 @m4dyy

@jdbxws @roserfz27 @ohara-whore @oharaslove @daisy-artfield

@mooreaey6yem @peachey-pie @migueloharacumslut @pxtched

🖤= NSFW

🩷🖤 NSFW blog; minors do not interact 🖤🩷

Ongoing…

🩷🖤“I Think I’ll Keep You”🖤🩷

🩷🖤 Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6 coming...

I Think I'll Keep You: Asks and Art!!

Chapter 3 Flashback comic by me!

Anon ask!

Nonny thoughts!

🖤“On the Run”🖤

🩷🖤 Chapter 1

🩷🖤 Chapter 2

🩷🖤 Chapter 3

Robin Hood: A quest for love and freedom

Chapter 1

Older Neighbor Miguel

🩷🖤 Part 1

🩷🖤 Part 2

🩷🖤 Part 3

One-Shots

🩷🖤 “I Shouldn’t Have Said It, But I Mean It”

🩷🖤 “Sleepy sweet Spider-man”

🩷🖤 “Numb”

🩷🖤 “Do you forgive me?”

🩷 “Easy Loving” 

🩷🖤 “Love and Hate”

🩷🖤 Feel You

🩷🖤 Ice Cream Scoop

Gabi's Play!

Sweet thoughts 💕

🩷🖤 Manspreading 1

🩷🖤 Manspreading 2

🩷🖤 Knows how to use it

🩷🖤 Night of weakness

🩷🖤 Control

🩷🖤 Relieving Stress

🩷🖤 HIS CHEST

🩷🖤 HIS HANDS

🩷🖤 Biker Boyfie

🩷🖤 Love Language

🩷🖤 Lingerie

🩷🖤 Blushing

Alt-Miguel Concept 🎃

Connection

Beach Day!

Art

🖤 Tingly...

🖤 I wanna ride...

Miguel 1

Miguel 2

Miguel 3

Miggy sketches

gigglin and squealin

🩷🖤 jae and seungho inspired

Miguel Toad'Hara

spidersona!

meowgel o'hara

Bot Requests!! 🤖

Anon requests! Blue collar man

Eres Mia

Dirty Dancing!

Thank you so much! To all my moots and followers, you guys are the best and I'm having so much fun! I love you sooooooo much!