Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You swipe your card and push past the heavy door. Another long day of cell culturing to look forward to. Although the expansive lab and the state-of-the-art equipment once had you eager to be here, you find your work super repetitive and tiring lately. Thanks to your background in microbiology, your main job right now is just cloning and culturing the cells the rest of the team needs to do the actual genetics research. It makes you feel a little left out and although you try not to think about it, it makes you feel kind of stupid. Your mood worsens when you see your least favorite coworker hovering by your desk in the shared office.

“Oh hi Y/N, late again?”

You roll your eyes in response.

“Shut up, Miguel. Unlike you, some people have a life outside of this lab,” you say evenly, completely used to his snide comments. You take off your coat, place your bag to the side, and start the computer on your desk. “You didn’t touch anything here did you?”

“No, just making sure your data looks good. But it seems like you haven’t had much luck these past few days. The new cell-line too hard for you to handle?” He says in an annoyingly sweet voice.

You look up at him from where you’re sitting and sigh.

“Look. Your comments usually don’t affect me at all because frankly, I don’t care what you think. But, I’m having a rough day and I’d like if you could just fu—piss off,” you say in a tight voice, rubbing your temples.

Although you’re not super close to any of your coworkers, they’re at least polite and generally nice. Somehow, Miguel’s hated you since the moment you started working at Alchemax, which is extra rough because you work most closely with him. He went out of his way to talk to you and had nothing but mean things to say. And after the last couple days of not being able to keep the new cell-line alive, as Miguel had unfortunately noticed based on the data sheets on your table, you just needed a win.

You look up to see whether Miguel had finally left you alone. But you’re shocked to see that he’s looking down at you with a weird expression. Is it…sadness? Confusion? No. He’s looking at you with concern.

“Uhh, it’s nothing to be worrying about. I almost have this figured out so rest assured, your research won’t be impacted.” you add quickly, laughing awkwardly.

“That’s not exactly what I’m worried about,” he pulls out the chair from his desk and sits down next to you, “You know that I only joke around with you because I know how difficult and important your work is, right?”

I try not to make the confusion on my face visible. “You’re joking around?”

He scrunches his eyebrows. “You thought I was serious?”

You pause for a second. “You’ve given me no reason to think you weren’t serious.”

He sighs, “Y/N, we’re always bantering with each other. Of course I wasn’t actually upset about the data on your desk. I know how hard you work. I was just…I know that your work is repetitive and tiring, so I wanted you to know that if you’re having trouble, you can always ask for help.”

I don’t know what to feel but I scoff out of disbelief. “Always ‘bantering’? That’s not what I’d call it. And how was your remark anything but patronizing?”

He looks genuinely confused at what you say. He leans forward in his chair and runs his hand through his hair. “Is that why you’ve been so weird around me this whole time? You thought I genuinely meant what I was joking about?” He puts his hand on yours out of the blue and you pull your hand back, in surprise. “I’m sorry. I must’ve come off as an asshole. I really thought we were both just…joking around.”

You scan his face to see whether this is another joke he’s playing but he looks serious. He’s never been this physically close to you and — you notice he smells good. You thought the lab was a scent-free zone. You shake your head to snap out of it.

“Nice try. You know actions speak louder than words right?” you say as you stand up and put on your white lab coat. He follows you out, putting on his own lab coat. He dyed it a bright red a while ago, but repeated washes have made it a more tolerable pink colour. You try not to roll your eyes everytime you look at it. He really needed to learn how to separate the workplace from his personal interests.

“I’m telling you the truth! I’m really sorry again and… I’ll stop joking around.” he sighs, running his hand through his hair. Somehow the fluorescent lab lighting never seems to affect how silky his hair looks but it seems to make yours appear greasy. You try not to be envious as you put up your hair and pull on some safety goggles.

You don’t really believe him but nod. “Okay whatever. Thanks, Miguel.” You say dismissively and gesture for him to go do his own thing. He rolls his eyes at you but smiles before walking away to his lab bench.

You get the new cell line from the freezer and grab some DMEM. You’re determined to keep these cells alive this time. You’re not entirely sure where this motivation is coming from, but you’ll take it.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

You’re absentmindedly munching on some grapes while scrolling on your phone after finishing your lunch.

“Whatcha watchin?”

You almost jump out of your chair. You turn to face Miguel, who is leaning down, looking over your shoulder at your phone.

“Jesus, ever heard of privacy, old man?” you call out, rolling away from him in your chair.

He laughs and sits down at his desk, across from yours. You roll back over but still stare sheepishly at him.

“Old man? That’s quite hurtful, you know? Especially since we’re not joking around anymore,” he says in a mock hurt voice.

He’s not old by any means, just a postdoc. But as a master’s student in the lab, you’re the youngest person there. Plus he’s always been an ass to you (unknowingly apparently) but you hold onto any card you have over him. And age is one of them.

“Who says it was a joke?” you ask with a small smile.

He smirks back. “Someone’s in a good mood. Cells doing better?”

“I think so. The new media is looking promising. But I can’t really say anything for sure until tomorrow morning. Fingers crossed though.”

You finish your food and get up to go back into the lab space but Miguel grabs your hand before you can leave.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “What?”

He let’s go of your hand. “Can’t you just give me some company while I finish my food?”

“Um no? I have work to do,” you scoff

“I know I know, I’m just kidding. But I actually did have something to talk to you about. Sit for a second,” He pulls out your chair. You hesitantly sit down and gesture for him to go on.

“Okay, you know how I’m going to finish my postdoc at the end of this month right? I have the green light to start my own lab and research with Alchemax, basically right away.” He begins in an uncharacteristically serious voice.

To be honest, this doesn’t really surprise you. He’s one of the smartest people you’ve ever met (although you’d never admit this to him) and he has potential to do much bigger things than the projects happening in your current lab. So you've always pretty sure that he would leave for bigger, better things eventually. Still, you’re not as happy as you thought you’d be for him to leave. You’re almost a little…sad? Maybe you’re just upset that now you’re gonna be stuck working these shitty hours by yourself.

“Congrats Miguel! Glad at least one of us made it out of this stupid lab,” you say in the happiest voice you can muster, but it sounds flat even to you.

He laughs. “Relax, you’re not getting rid of me so easily. I was actually going to ask…Well, why don’t you continue the rest of your degree working under me?”

Before I have a chance to react or talk, he continues on. “I understand we don’t have as good of a relationship as I thought we did but I promise I’ll be worth your time. I’m better funded and I’ll make sure you get to work on stuff worth your time, beyond just culturing cells. You’re wasted here.” He finishes, with an unsure smile.

You’re honestly speechless. It seems like he was almost a little nervous to pitch this to you. Did he actually think you were smart? You never knew he was capable of thinking of anyone else but himself. But still, his offer sounded good. But you felt weird jumping on it right away.

“Is it that easy to switch supervisors? I’ve already committed to this lab,” you say unconvincingly

He smiles and rolls his eyes, “I knew you would ask that. Already looked into it, you’d be fine. You might have to talk about moving some of the equipment to the new lab but since its all under Alchemax, it’s not a big deal. Sooooo what do you say?” He looks at you expectantly

You’d be insane to refuse but you don’t want to give in so easily. “Okay, I’ll think about it. I’ll let you know by Monday,” you say, trying to keep your voice even.

He just grins and wraps you in a hug out of excitement. You push him off in reflex but he’s wearing a smug look on his face.

“I didn’t even agree yet! I could still say no,” you insist weakly.

“Yeaaa, we’ll see about that,” he says, still looking smug.

You roll your eyes in response before you get back in the lab. But you’re smiling and the work doesn’t seem so bad anymore now that there might be something new and exciting in the near future.

Chapter Text

Monday rolls around a little too soon and you’re thrumming with an unusual nervous energy. It would be insane to refuse his offer but…could things work out like this so easily? It makes you nervous that such a good chance could come your way. You can’t imagine working in a lab more boring than yours and Miguel was right, you were wasting away. If nothing else, working with him would be something new. You head to the lab with a weak sense of confidence.

____________________________________________________________________________

Knowing that this might be one of the last times you would work in this specific lab, you try to savor it a little. Things don’t seem as bad as they usually do. The cell line you were working so hard to keep alive actually seemed to be doing well.

You’re typing up the updated culturing procedure in the office when you realize that you haven’t been bothered all afternoon. Where is Miguel? You look to his desk but no backpack or anything is there. Strange.

Did he not come in today? You think to yourself.

That’s very unlike him. He practically sleeps at this place. There’s a tiny sense of worry at the back of your mind but you squash it down as you pull out your phone to text him.

Y/N: Backed out already?

He replies almost immediately.

Miguel O’Hara (work): You’re not so lucky. Came down with something from the lab? No serious symptoms and I’m good so it’s probably nothing to worry about but I’m taking the day off just in case

You’re relieved that he’s okay. He texts back before you can say anything back.

Miguel O’Hara (work): Actually I’m feeling totally fine now. Talk about my offer tonight?

Miguel O’Hara (work): Over dinner at la frasca cibi? I’ll pick you up

Y/N: Glad you’re good. No need to pick me up. Cibi’s is expensive, let’s go somewhere else

Miguel O’Hara (work): Don’t worry, my treat. I’m gonna be rolling in money soon B)

You roll your eyes but smile. He can’t be making that much more money now…Can he?

Y/N: sounds good old man, see you at 8 :P

____________________________________________________________________________

You arrive at the restaurant and the hostess guides you to your table. Seems Miguel isn’t here yet. The place is really nice; warm lights hang low from the ceiling and the dark wood floors give it a polished feeling. Your table is tucked away in a comfortable booth by the corner. You’re glad you wore something nice. You were worried because you didn’t want to be overdressed (it’s not a date after all) or underdressed (it is still a nice restaurant). You settled for a tight black dress with long sleeves that was backless.

You’re hoping Miguel isn’t too late as you scan the menu absent-mindedly. You hear some shuffling by your table and look up. It’s the waiter, not Miguel.

“Sorry my friend should be here in a second! We’ll order soon.” You say in an apologetic tone.

“Oh no worries at all! I was actually — um well, you just looked really nice so I was hoping that I could get your —” Before he could finish or you could politely decline, Miguel slides into his seat across from you.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late! Traffic on the 409 is crazy right now.” He smiles at you before turning to the waiter. “Could we have a few minutes to look over the menu?”

The waiter nods, flushed, and rushes off towards the kitchen. You’re glad you don’t have to deal with him but feel sorry for the poor guy. You can’t tell if Miguel had heard anything before he arrived.

“Seriously, sorry for making you wait, Y/N.” A pause. “Did you two chat a lot before I came?”

You laugh awkwardly. “No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Don’t worry. Anyway, how are you doing? It’s nothing contagious is it?” You pretend to back into your booth.

He laughs and you take him in. He’s dressed up too; a nice white shirt with a few buttons loosened and some black slacks. His hair is loosely swept back with some kind of product but a few loose strands brush across his forehead. His dimples are very prominent in this lighting and suddenly you feel very self-conscious. He looks effortless and you’re glad you put on a nice outfit. “Nothing like that. Honestly no symptoms either. Just…well I was visiting the Dr. Ock’s Lab and wasn’t warned about their new spiders. One little guy bit me but nothing seems to have happened so far so I’m in the clear.” He says, taking a sip of water. “Wanna see the bite?”

“Sure.” You reply but he doesn’t wait for your answer. He pulls his shirt down and extends his neck. There’s an irritated red area near his collarbone. You try to not stare down at his pecs.

Maybe it’s the intimate vibe of the restaurant but there’s been a funny feeling in your stomach since Miguel arrived and now your fingers thrum with a weird energy. You ignore it and do your best to act normal.

You can’t help your curiosity and lean across the table to take a closer look, lightly running your fingers across the bump where he must have been bitten, grazing his collarbone. You try really hard not to stare down his shirt. You pull away, feeling a little bit of warmth in your cheeks.

“Geez, it’s like you went to second base with a mosquito. Does it hurt?” You tease, to calm yourself down a little bit.

He smiles. Is it just you or are his ears red? “Nah, it doesn’t. I feel worse for that little guy honestly,” he pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of a sizable red and blue spider, who appears dead. “I accidently killed him trying to get away. It sucks for Dr. Ock too since apparantly this little dude had some sort of special mutation but I don’t feel too bad because they should’ve made sure to lock his cage.” He shrugs

I shake my head in amusement. “That spider is huge, I would’ve totally freaked out. In what world is that ‘a little guy’?”

“Whaaaat? He’s so cute. I feel bad about killing him. Also he might be big for someone of your height but for me, he’s tiny.” He smirks

Before you can retort back about how you’re actually pretty tall in comparison to the national average height, the waiter asks for your order. Thankfully not the guy from earlier so you relax. You place your orders and Miguel asks for sangria for the table.

“Umm don’t you have to drive home? You shouldn’t be drinking.”

“Relax, I’m planning on just walking over to the lab and crashing there tonight. Besides, the sangria is for you. Because somebody can’t handle straight red wine.” He tilts his head and smiles deviously.

You roll your eyes but your face feels warm. “I’m fine at it! Anyway, should we talk about your pitch? I have a few questions before I agree to come on board.”

“So the answer is already yes?” He grins wide and earnestly.

“Don’t let it get to your head! It’s a good opportunity and I’d be stupid to turn it down.” You reply condescendingly but can’t hide your smile.

Your food arrives and the two of you talk about the details of your transfer and how you’ll have more freedom to work on your thesis. The conversation flows as smoothly as the fruity sangria slides down your throat. He’s drinking too but he seems to be holding his own better than you. It’s hard to be guarded or snippy in your current state and Miguel seems to be taking advantage of this unexpected openness in your demeanor.

“Seems like wine isn’t the only thing you can’t handle.” He murmurs in a low tone, close to your ear after paying for your meals. He smells amazing.

You pout a little. “It’s better being a lightweight! You save money on getting drunk…” You reply weakly.

“So we agree you can’t handle it?” He grins back, holding out his arm so you can steady yourself as you put on your coat and exit the booth. You pout in reply and accept his help.

As you exit the restaurant, the cold air stuns you for a second and you unconsciously lean into Miguel’s side a little. He seems to radiate heat. Odd, but you don’t think much of it. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Let me walk you to your place. It’s not that far from the lab.” He says in a quiet voice as if afraid to disrupt the easy silence.

“Okay.” You don’t move away from his side and walk in a comfortable quiet.

____________________________________________________________________________

At your apartment door, you finally straighten, a little more sober now. You open the door and ask him if he’d like something warm before heading back out. You can’t seem to meet his eyes now for some reason.

“I’d love that.” He answers, moving in after you.

As he takes off his shoes, you rush inside to check how clean everything is and whether there’s hot chocolate in one of your cupboards. You feel for your phone in your pocket and realize it’s not there. Uh oh. Did you forget it at the restaurant? You try to think back and can’t quite recall. Okay, don’t worry. Stay calm.

“Miguel!” You call out from the kitchen. “Can you call my phone? I can’t find it.”

“Sure!” He calls out, his voice deeper than usual. Thankfully you hear your phone ringing. It must be in your coat. You head back out by the front door and see Miguel’s holding your phone with an amused smile.

“You have me saved as ‘Miguel O’Hara (work)’?” He asks. There’s some annoyance (and maybe a little hurt?) in his voice that surprises you.

“No no! That was from when we first met, we’re…friends now.” You hurriedly explain as you snatch your phone out of his hand. You don’t want to upset him for some reason.

“I thought we’d gotten closer than just coworkers over the past year.” he says in a quiet voice. You look up at him and your heart skips a beat. Is he…scowling?

Has he always been this cute? You think to yourself before chiding yourself for having the thought in the first place.

You look up at him again to defuse the situation but something seems a bit off. His cheeks are flushed and his forehead seems sweaty despite the cold air outside. You move closer to him and he backs into the wall in surprise. You put your hand against his forehead. Way too warm.

“Are you feeling okay Miguel?” You ask in a concerned voice, looking into his eyes. “You’re burning up —”

Before you can finish, Miguel tightly grabs your wrist and turns you around so now you’re against the wall, facing him. He grabs your other wrist too and moves in closer, inches from your face staring into your eyes, almost in a trance. Your heart is racing in your chest but you can’t help admire how long his lashes are.

He leans in even closer. You think he’s going to kiss you but he moves close to your ear and buries his head into your neck. He’s breathing really heavily and it tickles. You try to face away but that just gives him more room to burrow deeper.

“You smell so good.” He murmurs. “You always smell good but I don’t know what’s happening. It feels overwhelming right now. He lets go of one of your arms and slides his hand down your backless dress to your lower back. You gasp from the sudden contact and can’t help but arch closer to him. He leans into you and you can barely move. Before you can say anything, he licks and then bites your neck.

Chapter Text

Miguel O’Hara is usually a better man. Or atleast a man with more control. Tonight, something just feels different. Although he already towers over most people, being here, in this tiny apartment, surrounded by your things, he feels dizzy. It doesn’t help that you’re caged in his arms, a little surprised, but not backing down. He runs his calloused thumb over the hickey he just gave you; the warmth sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in once more, but you can tell he’s not going for your neck this time. You stiffen up but welcome his kiss.

“Miguel…,” you breathe softly, inching your face backwards. He stares into your eyes with a desperate, carnal look on his face. You can’t lie to yourself, you both know you’re going to give into this feeling. He closes the gap before you can do anything else.

His lips feel firm but careful against yours at first before he hooks his hand into your hair, pushing his body onto you. You try to keep up, folding your hands around his back but he seems unsated. He kisses you more aggressively, biting your bottom lip in between, without ever coming up for air. You soon feel lightheaded but he seems fine. In fact, he seems to be spurred on by your breathless moans. You’re driving him crazy. You’re all standoffish and guarded in the lab but then you openly check him out, like at the restaurant. And here you are now, pulling him in, letting him get you breathless and still not letting go. But he doesn’t feel satisfied. Or merciful. He likes hearing your quickened breaths, he likes how you’re torn between breaking away or giving in completely. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to slow down and you eventually turn your face away, panting, heart racing.

“I need to breathe!” you make out between gasps. You look at his face, his pupils are blown out and his lips are flushed, from the kissing but also your lipstick.

But just as quickly as you pull away he leans back in. You try pushing him off in between, wanting to catch your breath, but he pins both your hands behind you. The funny feeling at the pit of your stomach is now just full blown heat radiating across your body. What’s gotten into him?

He finally stops for a second and kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to continue trailing kisses down your stomach but he suddenly grabs both your legs and picks you up in one fell swoop. You yelp in surprise.

“Let me down!” you protest unconsciously. You’re tall and well-built, it’s been ages since somebody has picked you up. And never like this; you don’t want to be dropped.

Miguel can’t help but feel hungrier as you lean closer to him and hold him tighter for fear of falling. It’s cute to see you fidgety and too nervous to look into his eyes. He likes the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his torso. His cock, painfully erect, just brushes your ass and it’s driving him insane. If he let you lower, it would be right at your…

“Bedroom?” He asks in a strained voice, looking around the apartment.

“Down the hall, to the left,” You answer quickly, now burying your face into the scruff of his neck, both comforted by his ease at carrying you, and embarrassed about the lust in your voice.

He wastes no time striding to your room, the walk bobbing you up and down, creating tantalizing friction between your groins. He drops you roughly to your bed, and watches hungrily as you scamper to prop up on your elbows. You try to stare at his eyes but are distracted as he swiftly takes off his shirt; even in the low light of your bedroom, his big pectorals and taut ab muscles are illuminated. Your heart skips a beat as his pants come off next. Veins run across the smooth, tan skin over his low-slung boxers. It does a poor job of hiding his massive cock. You try to look back up to his eyes but it’s hard to peel your eyes away. You’re thrilled at the aspect of taking in something so…big but also a little scared. You begin to inch backwards on the bed but Miguel grabs your feet and pulls you towards him, your arms now defenselessly above your head. He sits on the bed between your legs.

“Arms,” he says in a voice you can’t help meekly follow. You raise your arms above your head and he takes off your dress in a hasty manner. Your body tenses from the sudden cold and you unconsciously sling an arm across your bare chest, feeling too exposed under his intense gaze.

Miguel, even in this almost intoxicated state, can’t help but take a second to admire; the dark erect nipples on your supple breasts, the delicate clavicles, the curve of your stomach, the elegant line of your aquiline nose and your black eyes that shone even in this low light. Your hesitation at his size, at this new nakedness between you two made him want to push you until you looked him into his eyes as he took you whole. He leans forward, and pins your hands above you. You meet his eyes shyly, which glow…almost red? His hands feel impossibly warm.

“Look at me.” He says in a low, authoritative voice before leaning in and kissing you roughly. He lays over you, his weight both comforting and arousing. He’s more handsy as he continues to kiss you, kneading your breasts, rubbing his cock over your clit, both your underwear barely hampering the sensation.

You can’t help but moan softly through the kisses, desperately raking your hand through his hair, and then trying to touch his cock but to no avail—he raises himself up a little so that your crotches still touch but not your torsos. He wants you desperate and needy for him. Wants you to lose your mind in endless pleasure so that you can’t think of anything but him and the raw sensation he can make you feel.

Ignoring his instinct to stick his dick in you right away, he instead pulls down your underwear and begins placing gentle kisses down your stomach. The contrast of the cool air in the room and his warm lips sends shivers down your spine and by the time he’s at the top of your pubic area, you’re almost shivering. But he stops here and instead starts kissing and licking and biting around your inner thighs, ever so slightly grazing your clit sometimes but never fully stimulating it. You arch your back and run your long nails along his back, trying to coax him there in impatience but he seems to be enjoying your desperation.

“Please, Miguel.” you murmur out between soft moans, hoping he understands your request.

“Please what?” he asks in a low, amused voice. You can tell he’s smirking a little. But still, he starts running wide, lazy circles along your labia with his thumb as he continues kissing. It makes your heart skip a beat but it’s still not enough.

“Stop playing with me—hnng,” you gasp out, “You know what I want!”
“Use your words Y/N. Tell me what you want.”

Your face feels warm but you don’t care anymore. “Make me cum. Please. With your hands, your tongue, whatever. Just make me feel good.” You say disjointedly.

He smiles now, a little evilly. “Someone’s being greedy. What will you give me in return?”

“Whatever you want, just hurry please.”

His cock is already wet from pre-cum but you continue making him even hornier. How is that even possible? He smirks and leans down.

He first runs slow laps up and down your clit, building a steady rhythm that makes you shut your eyes and hug his head with your thighs, wanting maximum contact. Miguel feels a little overstimulated; you taste amazing, he likes being buried between your thighs and every time he looks up, your breasts and the tilt of your head thrown back in ecstasy greet him. He picks up speed, now circling his tongue on your clit and sometimes softly sucking on it and his body feels on fire with your indignant moans, the way you say his name, your hand pulling his hair. He can’t take it anymore and with one hand, he starts stroking his cock as he listens to your whimpering. As you tense up and get close, he focuses entirely on you, maintaining the tantalizing rhythm until you arch your back and cum in his mouth, wet and delicious and moaning his name. He takes the sight of you in, unkempt, lost in pleasure. Pleasure he made you feel. He’s so hard, almost painfully so, but he’s not done yet.

Just as you’re coming down from the high, he pulls you down to his face again and continues the same frantic rhythm, sucking on your clit, licking circles, devouring you like he hadn’t just had a meal. You can’t do anything but moan and tighten your thighs around his face again, it just feels too damn good. You have an easier time getting to the point of climax this time but just as he feels your breathing quicken, he slows his pace. Before you can protest, he sticks two fingers inside your vagina and you gasp from the shock. You’re wet from cumming once and he can’t help moan at how tight you feel around him. He wants to be inside you now, watch how you’ll ever handle his cock when even just his two fingers seem like too much. He now maintains a steady pace playing with your clit with his tongue while stimulating the fleshy part inside of your vagina with the bend of his fingers. You can’t think straight, you can’t think of anything at all except for how good it feels. His fingers, large and warm, seem to perfectly hit that elusive spot inside your vagina, where when stimulated along with your clit, makes your legs spasm involuntarily. As you loosen up more, Miguel adds a third finger and you can’t help but claw at his back in approval. He takes a look up at you and your erect nipples and the way your dark hair, usually in neat waves down your back, halos over your head in a mess sends shivers of pleasure down his back. He did this. He thinks of how cold you can be at the lab and how utterly at his mercy you are now, begging to cum, moaning out his name, leaving scratches all down his back. He’s never been more aroused before and he thinks he may just cum from your sight and sounds and taste without you ever touching his cock. He’s breathing heavily as he eats you out and it tickles a little, your pussy more sensitive than ever. Looking down, the gleam of his giant back muscles looming over you, that tall, tall man on his knees entirely for your pleasure, his eyes closed in concentration and…arousal?, his nose buried in your labia, sends white hot lightning to your stomach and you have to close your eyes to not melt away on the spot. Almost as if he can tell the effect he has on you, he picks up the pace, his fingers and tongue working tirelessly to get you to that high. You’ve never felt anything like this before, both your clit and vagina being pleasured simultaneously. It builds and builds and the orgasm comes in a blinding flash, your eyes rolling back from how good it feels. He pulls out his fingers but still continues sucking your clit lazily and you think you’re going to die from how good it feels. Overstimulated, you grab a fistful of his hair, trying to pull his head back but he continues, his face buried in your pussy until you ride out the high, shaking and shivering underneath his tongue. His free hand greedily caresses up and down your thigh, almost in rhythm with your moans.

When your legs finally settle and your breathing slows a little, he lifts his head and licks his fingers clean. He doesn’t know what’s come over him but you taste so good and he doesn’t want to waste even a speck. And it’s almost as if he can smell you better. Not the perfume you were wearing at dinner, but that ineffable scent on your skin that seems overwhelming in this room, but even more intoxicating the closer he gets to you. If you weren’t feeling so heady, you’d notice how unnaturally red his eyes were, even in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He kisses your inner thigh before coming up and kissing your lips. He lays his full body weight on you as he does so, wrapping one arm around your waist. It’s comforting and arousing at the same time. Even through the boxers, the bulge of his cock is directly over your pussy and neither of you can help but lean in, grinding to get more friction. He moves one of his legs between yours as he kisses you more aggressively now, and you arch your back, grateful for the increased contact for tribbing. He can feel your boobs under him and it’s driving him crazy. He moves his hand, squeezing your breast and then kneading it roughly. You moan in his ears and he grunts softly. Fuck, you feel so good. The dry humping gets a bit more frantic and you’re both breathing heavily. He pulls away from the kiss to watch your face, eyes scrunched, face shining with sweat, lips dark from the kissing, as you finish once more. You open your eyes and his face is just hovering over years, in admiration, in arousal.

You feel flustered and suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. You avoid his eyes and instead look at his body. You run your hands down his torso, fondling his pecs, pressing against his defined abs. He welcomed your touch, a hungry look in his eyes. Despite the muscles looking so tough and built, they were soft and smooth underneath your fingers. You couldn’t deny he was absolutely breath-taking. When you touched him more lightly, he shivered a little, almost ticklish. This made your heart race. Here he was, this giant of a man, so commanding and focused when he was making you cum, but still affected by the simplest of your touches. You looked back up at his eyes, and for the first time, took notice of how they had a slight red glow in the dark. But you weren’t startled for some reason and you didn’t feel so self-conscious anymore. There was an almost impossible vulnerability behind those red eyes and it made your heart ache. You leaned up and gave him a small kiss. He was a little startled by your initiative and in the back of your mind, you wondered how you could make him more flustered. You let your hand wander down lower and pulled his cock out in one swift motion. The sudden contact made Miguel gasp.

“If I’m counting correctly, I think we’re at three to zero.” He whispered with a smirk.

“Take them off,” you command, tugging at his boxers without breaking eye contact.