#sweetwrites

Relationships never quite worked out the way you wanted them to. Things were just too complicated. It was nearly impossible to balance 21 credit hours at your university, the part time job you’d picked up, keeping your apartment clean and trying to keep up with a partner, let alone a sexual one. After two failed relationships and an attempt at a friends with benefits situation, you gave up. Your social life was pretty much dead. Occasionally you’d chitchat with your roommate in the laundry room, or drop by one of your professors offices to shoot the shit, but you really didn’t have friends. Instead, you buried yourself into your studies, and video games once in a blue moon, anything to keep your mind off of how lonely you felt.

Close to the end of the semester, you chose to use one of your rare days off to go to the Barnes and Nobles in town, with the intent on getting a new book to keep your attention. Summer break was just around the corner, meaning you’d finally be able to get back into reading for pleasure, one of your preferred past times when there wasn’t any school work to keep you busy. You climbed into your beat up Honda Civic, buckled yourself in, and made your way to one of your favorite stores.

Barnes and Nobles was rather quiet for a Saturday, just a few people meandering here and there, with books or journals tucked under their arms. You went straight for the historical fiction section, hoping to pick up some sort of romance novel set in World War Two, or a dystopian Western. As your eyes scanned up and down the shelves, occasionally you’d pluck a book from the display, flip it over in your hands and skim the summary to see if it peaked your interests. While you had decided beforehand that you would only get one book, there were three that caught your interest. You had extra money in your ‘Dick around it’s summer’ budget anyway, so with a small shrug, you carried your chosen three to the register and paid for them. On your way out, you decided that a drink was in order since you’d skipped breakfast, and the sweet smell of fresh brewed coffee wafting over you as you headed for the exit was calling your name.

The barista was a tall man, with wild blond hair sticking out from beneath the green visor that adorned his head. Red eyes met yours, knocking a bit of air from your lungs with just how intense this man looked, while wiping down a countertop of all things. “Gimme a minute.” He said gruffly, earning a click of the teeth from someone you couldn’t quite see behind a curtain a short, dark curtain, covering a doorway.

“Bakugo, that’s not polite.” The voice called, slipping past the curtain to reveal wildly broad shoulders beneath a tan turtleneck and long red hair tied up in a messy bun. His green apron was decorated with various brightly colored buttons that clink together as he walked over. Your eyes caught a couple of them with silly sayings, making your lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Sorry, he’s new. What can I get for you today?” He asks kindly, grinning and showing off a pearly white row of pointy looking teeth.

“No, it’s cool.” You brush off with a small shrug, offering a sympathetic smile. “I work in retail. I totally get it. Could I get a tall, iced cold brew with a shot of espresso?” You ordered, already fishing around your purse for your wallet to pay.

“Sure thing, love! What’s the name for that order?” He quickly replies, the little term of endearment making your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. You relay your name to him, and watch the blond bustle around the small area, pouring things into a cup before he calls your name and presses the cup into your palm, with a little green straw.

“Thank you!” You chirp, offering him an appreciative smile that makes him blush this time, as he shrugs back at you, and turns back to the redhead, who waves at you, calling after you to have a great day. If you would’ve had cash, you would’ve tipped them both. You’ll have to remember that for next time.

The summer passed by much too quickly. Every few weeks you return to follow the same cycle. Buy a couple books, grab a drink at the café, and chit chat with the baristas, who you come to learn are Kirishima and Bakugo, both seniors at your university who had been best friends in high school, and started dating their freshman year of college. You learned that Kirishima was the sweeter and more open of the two. He always had a bright smile on his handsome face, and he’d frequently up your drink size or hand you a cake pop or a scone just because “you deserve a little something sweet”. Bakugo is a little more rough around the edges. Quiet and almost always broody, it’s not uncommon for you to catch him reading a book, though you would’ve never guessed he was a bookworm from that gruff persona he always wears. He would occasionally give you freebies as well, though even a brush of his hand against yours while he passed you your drink made him fluster, a dark blush coating his cheeks while he huffed out a “whatever” when you thanked him.

Slowly, a surface level friendship began to blossom between the three of you. Bakugo liked giving you romance novel recommendations, and Kirishima loved to talk about comic books or space or dinosaurs, only feeding the familiar feeling of boyish charm you got from him. It came as a bit of a surprise, when the redhead slid you a napkin with his number on it, as he handed you your usual drink order, something both men had come to memorize.

“There’s a party to kick off the start of the semester on Saturday at one of the frat houses. I don’t know if you’re the p-“

You cut him off before he can even finish, excitement bubbling in your gut at the word party alone. “Sure! I’ve actually never been to a college party, so this will be my first. Any sorta dress code I should be aware of?” You ask, sipping your coffee and eyeing the number messily scrawled on the brown napkin. Kirishima shrugs, that goofy, crooked smile playing on his face, a smile that always seemed to quicken the beating of your heart. Maybe you had a little bit of a crush, something that made you feel a bit guilty. Crushing on someone’s partner was pretty dirty, but both of them were gay. There was no way they were leaving one another to get with you, anyway.

“Wear whatever is comfortable! If you want, you can shoot us a text and we’ll come grab you from your place?” He offers, bringing you out of your guilty thoughts. You nod, trying to play off your earlier train of thought.

“Gotcha. I can do that. I’ll see you two lovebirds on Saturday then!”

Saturday is a mess. You’d decided you wanted to get your hair done, which had taken so much longer than you’d planned for, which in turn made you late for your nail appointment, which left you rushing around your apartment, holding up dresses and considering something more casual. It was a frat party, after all, not some sort of fall formal. Finally, when your make up was done, and your hair was perfect, you pulled your phone off of charger to send Kirishima a text.

Hey! I’m ready. I’m in the Lakeview Apartment Building. If you text me, I’ll come right down, okay?

You read, and reread the message a few times before pressing send, anxiety eating at you, as you slide on a pair of tall heels to compliment the tight, black dress that accentuates your curves. Your phone buzzes twice, and with another shaky breath, you read the notification.

Deal! Katsuki and I are on our way! We’ll text you when we’re outside.

Bakugo drives a sleek, black SUV, that’s bumping music that seems to pound in time with your heart as Kirishima hops out to help you into the backseat, insisting he doesn’t want you to bust your ass in your heels, and he’s right. The metal bar along the bottom that’s supposed to be used to climb in is too slippery, so the man easily manhandles you into the backseat, going as far as to buckle you in with a grin and a “Safety first!” That makes you blush a bit.

The party is mostly noise and heat. People cheering on a game of beer pong on the back porch, the sounds of splashing as people jump into the large pool, and music loud enough that you cringe. Kirishima high-fives some of the people he sees on his way in, but Bakugo sticks close to you, your hips bumping together every now and again as you make your way through the crowd to get drinks. There’s a huge plastic tub of something you assume must be jungle juice propped up on a plastic folding table, as well as various bottles of alcohol lined up with bright red solo cups.

“Hell yeah, they have IPA!” Kirishima cheered, picking a bottle of beer, while Katsuki busied himself pouring various liquids into a cup, before he pressed the drink towards you, the familiar action making you smile, despite how much the loud music was making your head hurt. You sipped, surprised that you couldn’t taste any alcohol at all, and instead find something that tastes almost like fruit punch instead. When all three of you have your drinks, you make your way to the dance floor, rather surprised at the way the alcohol seems to peel away Bakugo’s hard nature. He wastes no time rolling his hips to the beat of the music right behind you, your back pressed against his chest. Kirishima slots himself in front, long hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he presses his hips into yours, his beer bottle raised high above the two of you.

The dance makes your head spin, though it thankfully doesn’t last long. Drinks are refilled and the process continues, the three of you rotating between being pressed up against one another’s sweaty bodies and rocking to the beat, and sucking down drink after drink, until you start to wobble a bit. Bakugo notices almost immediately, a hand resting on your hip to steady you as he leans in, huffing whiskey scented breath over your neck.

“You’re drunk.” He points out, obviously. You scoff and press your ass into his groin, the roll too coordinated to come from a drunk person.

“Just tipsy.” You murmur back, eyes flickering up to meet Kirishima’s crimson gaze, from where he hulks over the both of you. His tongue swipes out to lick over his bottom lip as he takes in the way Bakugo grinds into you with fervor, his cock visibly straining against the fabric of his black jeans. The two of them lock eyes, something oddly knowing being passed between the two lovers. Together, the three of you stumble off of the dimly lit dance floor, squeezing between other partygoers as you make your way back out to the car. Kirishima presses you back into the cool metal, caging you between muscular arms as he eyes you up and down like prey.

“Wanna come back to our place? We’ve…never done this before, so bare with us.” He pleads. You nod, quickly, panties already damp from the way Bakugo’s dick was pressing so firmly between your supple ass cheeks just a moment ago. Thankfully, Kirishima has only had a couple beers, and feels comfortable driving himself over to one of the student housing apartments situated on the campus. Their apartment is surprisingly well maintained for two college students. Bakugo helps peel your heels off and lines them up at the door, filling in an already existing row of various pairs of large shoes. He slides his hand into yours and easily leads you back towards their bedroom, the mood shifting almost visibly. Bakugo has to stand on his tiptoes to slam his lips into Kirishima’s, his hands making quick work of shoving down his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. You’re pressed tightly between their bodies, face reddening at the feeling of both of their cocks pressed into you.

“Been wanting you all night…both of you…” he grumbles into his mouth, as his tongue presses past the redhead’s lips, catching the bitter taste of the IPA he had consumed and the salty burn of pretzels he’d shoved in his mouth while he chose another drink. You can’t help but touch yourself a bit, hand pushing the skirt of your dress up your hips, to press the heel of your palm against your already damp panties.

Kirishima’s dick is big. Bigger than the stupid one night stands you’d had as a freshman…bigger than you’ve ever seen in a porno. For a moment, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to even stand having something that big stretching you open. They peel their clothes off of each other quickly, hands fluid and skilled from years of fucking one another. Fingers brush nipples, mouths leave dark bite marks and hickies in their wake. Occasionally a hand will slip between them, quickly pumping the other’s length in a palm, before they pull away from one another and set hungry eyes on you, watching the way you touch yourself at the sight in front of you. The blond easily maneuvers you onto their bed, and you flop backwards with a small gasp.

“Aren’t you a dirty girl?” Kirishima mumbles, large arms caging you in he stares you down. “Sitting here, touching yourself while the two of us touched each other.” Bakugo is suddenly behind you, hands sliding around your torso and grabbing handfuls of your tits, as he curses under his breath.

“Fuck they’re even better when you hold them…soft…”. He huffs, pressing the fat tip of his cock against your back and smearing precum over the dark fabric of your dress. He shoves the top down, watching your tits spill from the material before he’s on them again, rubbing his fingers along your pebbled nipples and dipping his head into the crook of your neck to mark you. You gasp, and arch your back as he tugs your buds between warm fingertips, only dampening the light blue panties you’d chosen even more with slick.

Kirishima sinks to his knees, and slips his hands beneath your dress to pull the damp fabric down your thighs to pool at your ankles. For a moment, he sits still, taking in your gasps and whimpers from the way Bakugo continues rubbing and rolling your nipples back and forth between the pads of his fingers, and watching your clit swell. “So that’s what it looks like up close.” He hums lowly, hiking your skirt in one hand, and biting up the fat of your thighs with sharp teeth. When you hiss, he swipes his tongue over your labia first, moaning at the taste of your cum. You yelp again, and sit up and he has to eye you for a moment, short eyebrow shot up in surprise. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” He asks, lips nibbling up to your clit as he blows on it.

You shake your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat and struggling to find the words to speak as cold air wafts over your swollen bundle of nerves. “Just been awhile…” you admit, a bit embarrassed. It had been a whole year since you’d fucked anyone, leaving your pussy oversensitive to even the smallest amount of stimulation.

“Oh! You’re just sensitive. I can rock with that.” Kirishima dives back in eagerly, nose bumping your clit and making you groan as he licks into you quickly. He pinches your thigh, making you arch your back and lift your hips off of the bed a bit. “Look at me while I make you cum.” He orders, leaving no room for a reply, before he’s fucking you with his tongue, the slimy muscle dipping in and out of your pussy over and over as he noses your clit, maintaining his unwavering gaze. Bakugo doesn’t let up either, pinching and pulling at your nipples as he grinds his cock against your back. You whine his name, pleasure pooling low in your gut as he eats your cunt like a man starved.

“Like that? Eijiro is good with his mouth.” Bakugo murmurs in your ear, eyeing the dark bruises he’s left in his wake. Your head spins, so close to coming apart as Kirishima grins into your pussy. “Cum…make a mess on his face.” He orders, squeezing your tits in his hands and enjoying the way the fat spills between thick fingers.

You nod, hands dug into the sheets as you mewl, following his instructions. Your pussy clenches around his tongue and you finally cum, creaming all over his mouth. “What a little slut you are…who knew you were so needy?” The blonde degrades, watching the way you toss your head back against his shoulder. Pleasure shoots down your legs like lighting as you squeeze your thighs against the redhead’s face, grinding your twitching clit into his face. Slick coats his chin and mouth as he sits up to catch his breath, grinning ear to ear like an idiot. The couple shares a look again, and in a flash, Bakugo is pushing you up and tugging the zipper of your dress down, and shoving it up and over your head roughly.

The blonde is quick to pull away from you and flip you onto your belly. He keeps a hand on your hips, using his other to force his fingers into Kirishima’s mouth to get them wet, before he drags them between the lips of your pussy, collecting your slick on rough digits before he slowly sinks them into your cunt. You groan, and gummy walls fluttering around them. He pumps them quickly, curling them inside of you and pressing against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“You’re going to cum that fast? From just my fingers? Kind of pathetic. How hard are you going to cum on my cock?” He asks, flicking his wrist quicker and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out.

“Bak- Kats-” you babble, struggling to form words every time he brushes against your g spot, adding a third finger so he’s sure you’re ready for his weeping cock. Kirishima sits back against the pillows, jerking his dick lazily. His gaze sweeps up and down your body, clearly enjoying the show.

“Damn Suki, you fucked her dumb, from just a few fingers! I guess Mina was right, curling your fingers does help. Do you feel it?” He asks, maybe a bit too curious. He hadn’t felt it when he was eating you out, and for a moment, he wanted to make his boyfriend move so he could try and find your g spot himself, but his cock was already dribbling precum down his fist. The last thing he wanted to do was push his luck on just how much more he could stand. The way you whimpered and squirmed and leaked more cum down Bakugo’s wrist when it became too much made his cock twitch in his hand.

Your sloppy cunt squelches when he pulls his digits free. The blond turns them over in the low light streaming in from the bedroom and pulls his fingers apart a few times to test the viscosity of the liquid. “Yeah, I did feel it…All that, just for some fingers and tongue?” He grunts, voice still deep and teasing as he uses his dry hand to maneuver your boneless body onto your back. Taking in your flushed cheeks and fucked out gaze, he huffs a breath out of his nose, and grasps your jaw tightly. “Open wide.” He commands, smirking a bit when you are quick to comply, and part your lips for him. Without any hesitation, he shoves his slick coated fingers into your mouth, eyelids drooping when you wrap your tongue around them and stare up at him.

“She ready?” Kirishima asks, catching your attention and drawing Bakugo from thoughts about fucking your throat, as he fumbles around in their nightstand drawer. The red head takes his time, spreading lube up and down his veiny cock.

“Don’t look at him.” He grumbles, when your eyes wander across the bed to the redhead. “I’m going to fuck you, and you better not pay Shitty Hair any attention.” He warns, spanking your oversensitive clit with a heated hand, enjoying the way your mouth sucks his fingers in deeper.

“All ready on my end.” Kirishima informs, a large hand pressing into the small of his boyfriend’s back, and pushing him over you. Your sweat slick back finds the plush of the mattress, and his pecs brush your already oversensitive nipples. Your eyes dance in his gaze, taking in the scent of musk and aftershave. Face to face, you notice that Bakugo has a small scar just above the bridge of his nose, but before you can get lost in the little nuances of his handsome face, he’s running the tip of his cock between your puffy folds. Hands finding purchase on either side of your hips, he rolls his pelvis, engorged manhood catching your clit as he teases you.

“She’s more than ready for me, aren’t you?” He asks, vermillion eyes half lidded, and clouded with lust. You manage a nod, and he slowly sinks his cock between your lips, leaning his full body weight on top of you and groaning your name in your ear. You shiver and grasp at the taught muscles on his back. The stretch is immaculate and the veins along his cock drag against your g spot, making you clench down on him as he fills every crevice of your velvety walls. Kirishima takes up the space behind him, wasting no time setting large hands on Bakugo’s toned hips, and surging into his boyfriend’s tight ass. You buck your hips upwards, jaw sliding open as you moan for him, music to Kirishima’s ears. Bakugo cants his hips, ever so slightly and licks at the bruises he’s left on your shoulders.

“Shit you’re tight Katsu…” Kirishima whines, his face screwed up behind his boyfriend as he tries his best to stay still. Any movement, and he’d only surge Bakugo’s cock deeper into your pussy, but it takes everything in him to be patient and wait for you to open up for them.

“M okay…” you slur, looking over Bakugo’s scarred shoulder to eye the redhead with half lidded eyes and a sideways smile. Bakugo wastes no time and nudges himself backwards on his boyfriend to rut into you with a deep groan.

Kirishima picks up the message and joins in, hips slamming into Bakugo’s, and surging him forward to push into your weeping pussy. Even during sex the two are polar opposites. The redhead is noisy, moaning and complimenting Bakugo on how tight his ass is, occasionally whining about how he wants to cum and fill his boyfriend to the brim. Bakugo is quiet and goal oriented, determined to watch you fall apart on his length. He slips a hand between your sweat slick bodies to thumb your overstimulated clit in circles. He huffs hot breath against your neck and grunts in your ear, occasionally grumbling about how you love being split on his cock, and how your pussy is swallowing him so good.

Your head spins, chest heaving as goosebumps blossom along your skin. White hot pleasure shoots through every axon in your body as you take in Kirishima’s needy face, his eyes closed tightly and hit lip tucked between his teeth as he bites down on it. He’s so lost in the sounds the three of you make, the quick slap of his balls on Bakugo’s shapely ass, the airy whines and whimpers tumbling from your mouth, the squishes that your pussy produces every time Bakugo’s cock kisses your cervix, that he doesn’t notice the muscles in his boyfriend’s back twitching, a tell tale sign he was drawing closer to his orgasm.

“Where?” Bakugo asks, hips growing wild and sloppy as he pulls away just enough to get a good look at your fuck drunk expression. “Cum…shit…where?” He questions again, a bit more urgently. Brain foggy with pre orgasm bliss, you shake your head, struggling to put coherent thoughts together.

“In-Inside!” You cry, body arching off of the bed as Kirishima delivers a harsh thrust that sends Bakugo impossibly deeper into you, and draws a moan from the both of your mouths. In a split second, your resolve breaks. The coil of pleasure thats been building, tugging at your gut with every rough thrust finally snaps, and you cream around Bakugo’s cock, leaking down your thighs and dampening the bed below you. Bakugo’s breath hitches in his throat as he’s caught off guard. Your walls clamp down on him like a vice grip, and he lets out an breathy groan, and shakes sweat from his spiky blond hair like a dog.

“Too tight…” he moans, eyes screwed closed as he finally cums, jolts of pleasure shooting up his spine as he shoots line after line of thick cum into your pussy. “Holy fucking shit” he curses, fucking his cum deeper into you.

Kirishima tumbles over the edge last, with quick huffs of “Gonna cum, please gonna cum so hard, too good to me, so good!” He paints Bakugo’s ass with hot ropes of cum, so much that as he gives shallow thrusts to ride out his orgasm, lines of white drip down the back of Bakugo’s toned thighs.

Everyone catches their breath in their own time, the only sounds between you deep pants and shallow breaths. Even as Bakugo and Kirishima begin slowly untangling themselves from one another, you struggle to steady your wild heart. Your eyes flutter closed as Bakugo slowly pulls his softening cock from your swollen lips. The sudden wetness of a warm cloth brushing your overstimulated clit pulls you back to reality, and as your eyes snap open, you find the redhead dabbing at cum that’s started to seep out of you. He gives you one of those boyish, lopsided grins that makes your chest ache, and takes a moment to enjoy the view of your puffy lips leaking messily onto your plush thighs as he wipes it all away. Bakugo forces a cool bottle of water into your palm and leans down to capture your lips in a quick kiss, that sucks the breath from your lungs.

Together, all three of you cuddle up in bed, you head resting back against a soft pillow. Kirishima traces circles up and down your belly, while Bakugo dozes behind you, not used to staying up so late at night, and drained from the good lay he just had.

“That was actually really great.” Kirishima whispers, dipping his head to speak into the shell of your ear. “You’re really great, I mean. At everything. That was our first time with a girl.” He compliments, always sweet.

“You both know one another’s bodies so well. It’s sweet.” You murmur, looking down at the wild head of spikes pressing into your chest, moving with every small breath you took.

“It comes with the territory. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we would like to come to know your body that way, if you’d let us, of course.” The last thing the redhead wants to do is sound pushy or clingy. He relaxes, tension oozing out of his shoulders when you shake your head and lean into him.

“I would love to do any of that all over again, for as long as you’ll have me.” You promise, sighing lowly and closing your eyes. Kirishima looks like a child that has just won a gargantuan plushie at the fair as he tugs you and Bakugo into him. You inhale the scents buried in the soft material of the pillow, finding the lingering smell of Starbucks coffee and the sandalwood cologne Kirishima seems to always have on, and finally start to doze off to sleep to the sound of Bakugo’s soft breaths against your chest and the rumble of Kirishima’s deep snores. The deep ache between your legs makes you feel oddly...content and loved. All because you were looking for books to keep you occupied during summer break.

“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…