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bluesidez · 10 months ago

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AGONYYYYYY

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

#★— ayrus writes #blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #what am i to do with myself #this is agony in the highest form #that little moment where he thought he wasn’t the one she wanted #TAKE HIS PAIN DOUBLE IT AND GIVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE #the polaroid OHHHH IM SICK #i love this lots ayrus 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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bluesidez · 7 months ago

Text

IT’S ALL IN MY TUMMYYYYYAAAUGHHH

IT’S GETTING STICKY !! 𝒻𝓉. 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝐻𝒶𝓇𝒶 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

summary: living in an alternate universe where the A/B/O dynamic contributes to societal norms, you ask your werewolf boss to help you through your heat. it can't cause any more problems, right?

tags: afab! reader, slow-burn??, knotting, praising, ruts and heat, possessive and clingy behavior, slick, soft sex, mentions of claws and elongated canines, and biting is mentioned.

author’s note: this fic is primarily for me as this was supposed to be posted for kinktober, but got help back as I had to research this 😭 and this is a super late birthday present for myself ngl—

The cycles of heats and ruts were meticulously scheduled, a system that you, had come to know. Each month, the 17th stood out boldly, encircled in an obnoxious pink heart drawn with a highlighter and accentuated by a pink pen. The vivid hue clashed dramatically with the monochrome palette of his stark office, where the muted greys and blacks formed a backdrop as dreary as the paperwork piled high on his desk.

This method of marking is brilliant in its simplicity—nontraceable, yet striking enough to be easily noticed past Miguel’s paperwork. It was a system that worked, a colorful beacon.

But the aroma, no, the stench—it’s hard to drown out.

Let alone ignore.

It was a sweet aroma he adores. That sweet, enticing smell always stirred his stomach. It was enough to make anyone throw up from the smell. But the smell became a familiarity for Miguel. The smell always plagued him, no matter what he uses to remove the smell.

The smell was similar like you: Sticky and stubborn to get rid of.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

The sickening sound of the bed springs rocking under the additional weight broke the apartment's typical silence. “C’mon, let me slide it in…” He growls against the shell of your ear, his elongated canine nipping at a tiny bit of skin. His hardening cock nudged and nudged, pleading for a form of entry. His words feign harm. He croons meaningless words, slowly rubbing his veiny length against your soft, puffy lips. “It’s not gonna fit” are the only words escaping your lips. The only words. “I’ll make it fit.” He hisses, a throb at the base of his cock, waiting for him to release the knot at his balls.

He looms over you like a shadow, his lips moving from the shell of your ear to your cupid’s bow. A yearn of softness. A plead of physical contact that didn’t involve lust or ruts. You reach up, attempting to sew his lips against yours and to keep him there.

He exhales a heavy groan, his breath sweeping a lost strand of hair away from your face. “Please,” his eyes narrow. The dim lights of your room emphasize the color crimson in his iris. Red mixes with your hazelnut color, a combination of lava and graphite.

“You can do it.” He rasps before gently guiding the head of his tip to your fluttering entrance. His bulbous tip gently moved up and down your slit. A soft groan escapes the back of his throat, the sensation of your walls engulfing him and suffocating him. Even with the diamond shimmer of slick, the rut in his gut nearly suffocated his cock. It was as if a barbed wire was around his shaft, squeezing and probing for release. His hand grasp at his length, squeezing at it before pushing the mushroom-y tip inside. He uses his free hand to grab at your rear, eyeing at the exotic sight of your greedy walls taking him and gripping onto him like a vice.

“I can’t…!” A strained stretch overwhelmed you as his breathing fanned your skin, cooling down the warm and sweat forming at your brow. “Atta girl,” He groans, his hands grasping onto your hips. His fingernails dive into your skin, dribbles of blood seeping out the swell of your skin and rolling down your skin. The noise from the back of his throat escapes as his elongated fangs bared out and made contact between your shoulder and neck. The piercing bite punctures tiny indent holes, some of the bites molding into the skin while three of them seep blood.

“Look at you. You’re taking me so well.” The thrusts were heavy, pushing and demanding before pulling out nearly all the way, leaving his tip in and slamming his length back in with ease. The shouts of his name morph into breathy moans, your hips moving with his at an agonizing slow pace, trying to keep up. He bites his tongue, holding back any snarky remarks.

But a squeeze sends him down to you as he continues with the brutal force, his hips snapping into you like a leather whip. “Do that again, it feels nice.” He croons, his hand reaching to grab your tit instead. You weakly squeeze your walls against his cock with a whine, his hand slapping your squeezed breast. “Don’t tease. Your teasing is torture, mami.” He lets go of your breast and fists at the now torn bedsheets instead. His claws sink into the ripped material, creating more rigid tears into the silky fabric. The inconsistent kegal patterns sent chills down his spine, pleading for him, squeezing him to finish. “There we go.” He paises as your weakened actions barely mirror his desperate, manic motion. You cover your lips with your hands, harsh breathing fanning the pillow case.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you, mamas.”

The overstimulation flooded chills down your spine as he sloppily thrusts his tip against your g-spot. The harsh, rapid pressure point pushed down and rubbed, nudging you to the edge of a cliff. To the cliff of an orgasm with a tumble of a slip and slide of slick. “Miguel, ‘m gonna cum.” Your voice is shushed but choked up, at the brink of finishing. His motions were blurred, your field of vision no longer on your pink bedsheets, rather, the white ceiling above you. His hand moves quick, his palms pushing down on your lower stomach. “Go ahead, untie that sensation.” His breath fans your prespired forehead, managing to cool you down temporarily. A pathetic scowl is evident on his lips, your body slowly leaning forward for a kiss, even if it’s a small, pathetic one. The slow motion caught his attention. He furrowed his brows, rumination running rampant in his head.

He brushes his lips against yours, his lips ghosting the tip of your nose. Even though the rapid, needy thrust, the undertone of a soft kiss ghosted your skin before moving down to his desired target. It said “I need you.”

You eagerly reciprocate, sewing your lips onto his, the locking kiss making your head spin. The kiss is intoxicatingly sweet, like poison, sweet as your aroma. Every kiss made him want to consume the sweet, juicy peach-like smell, intoxicating him to ravish more, to have a certain hunger for it.

He slowly pulls away, hesitant to let the kiss come to an end.

He looks down, his eyes tracing down to the two of you, watching himself disappear inside of you. Your eyes move downwards as well, enjoying the sight before you. You bite your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks. The heavy strokes come to an end, the warmth of his cum flooding your fluttering walls. The rut and knots interlinked between the two of you, the blissful high washing down onto your flushed skin.

His once rough and demanding touches transformed into soft, tender caresses that spoke of affection that contradicted his actions from before. He tenderly lifts his hand to cradle your cheek, his skin warm against yours. His thumb glides softly along your skin, applying just enough pressure to draw you closer, igniting a warmth into your skin. The gentleness of his caress contrasts sharply with the past, weaving intimacy into every moment shared. He basks in your softness, wiping away any stray tears if there were there. But really, it was just a pathetic excuse to touch your skin.

“I got you,” He whispers into your flushed skin. “I’ve always got you.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Tag List:

@miguelhugger2099 @bluesidez @opaloharas @hyjionie @kavimoo @zaunsin @keiva1000

#blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #dia…..oh dia…..#I’ll be honest #i’ve never read straight werewolf/abo stuff before this #BUT IM HERE AND ACCOUNTED FOR #him being desperate then turning soft…ugh #need him and that kno-#‘mamas’ ITS DRIPPING. SOPPING #I’m acting out of character #i feel unwell #rereading before i gts so he shows up in my dreams

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bluesidez · 10 months ago

Text

how I feel after reading

Three's Not a Crowd ~ Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 7.9k

✩ Content: Citizen!Reader. Logan can be which ever one you think of, I didn't go into much detail. Deadpool shows up for a little bit. Miguel and Logan tussle before we get to the dirty stuff. Protected Sex (I make Logan wrap it up once again). P in V. Oral sex (fem receiving). Vaginal sex. MINORS DNI!

✩ A/N: It's a crime that I haven't seen a lot of Miguel and Logan fics so I'm fixing that rn. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“You know what you’re doing, right?”

You shoot him a look, “I know you did not just ask me that.” Miguel stuttered, not realizing that his words might’ve offended you.

“No, shock, sorry, I was just-”

“Miguel, chill.” You playfully punched his arm. “I got this.”

“You do. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

You knew he didn’t mean that, but you wouldn’t tell him you were a little nervous. It would be your first time working the Go Home machine alone without help from Margo, who was planning to go on more missions for Miguel. You knew your way around regarding technology—making your position at Spider Society a very helpful one.

For someone who didn’t have any superpowers.

“Just don’t press the ‘blow up HQ’ button and you’ll be straight.” Margo added in, making sure you were all set by putting the last of her console commands.

“Why would I even want to press that button?”

“Just in case you get bored. Like I do.”

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you think it was a good idea to say that in front of your boss?”

“Yes.” Margo winked, making him shake his head at her antics.

“Just call one of us if you do need help.” Miguel assured you with a hand on your shoulder. You tried not to focus on how huge his hand was on you. How close he was to you. How good he smelled at that moment. Like sandalwood. Good thing you had the best poker face in the world, otherwise your crush on him was going to show.

“I will, don’t worry.”

You had a system for sending anomalies back through the Go Home machine. You tried to get the ones brought in order so they wouldn’t spend much time inside the building. Some were antsy, primarily the villains, so you always did your best to get them out immediately. Otherwise, they'd cause problems.

Your stomach growled when you glanced at the time. It was almost lunch. Miguel was still on a mission, so you figured having lunch with him was off the table. You tried to ignore the disappointment in your stomach when you thought about being unable to eat with him. Especially since you brought him a sandwich you made this morning. He said he liked your food.

A portal emerges, and there you see Miguel and Jess with two anomalies in tow. One was webbed up and unconscious, while the other was happily following them, taking in the sights.

It was a Deadpool and Wolverine, anomalies you've never seen before. The most you've gotten were villains, other spider people who weren't a part of the Society, and random citizens. You knew there were other heroes within the universes, but you'd never thought you see them.

“Oooh it's so shiny!” Deadpool admired the other cages filled with anomalies. The one he was looking at contained a gigantic Vulture. “How did you bring this son of a gun in here?”

“Hey.” Jess called, “We agreed to let you look in exchange for voluntarily locking you up.”

“I know, I know.” Deadpool held out his arms to carry Wolverine, who was across Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel sighed before handing one of the X-Men over, like a bride in Wade's arms.

“Uh, what happened to him?” You asked as you locked the two heroes up.

“Knocked him out with my bike.” Jess informed you, “Kitty cat was getting a little crazy, so I had to calm him down.”

“He didn't have his morning coffee, that's why.” Deadpool started stroking his friend's hair. “Big guy needs his caffeine mixed with two shots of bourbon.”

Miguel sighed, “Just what I needed, a Deadpool and Wolverine. You know they usually come in pairs?”

You didn’t know that.

“Better than dealing with a Green Goblin.”

“Anything's better than dealing with goblin.” Deadpool said, “It's like witnessing therapy 101 when talking to that guy.” You bit your lip to hide your amusement while Jess and Miguel didn’t indulge in him. “Tough crowd. I thought all Spidey's are supposed to be funny.”

“Not him.” You pointed at Miguel, “Hardly a funny bone in his body.” Jess chuckled at that while he rolled his eyes.

“Someone has to be serious around here.”

While putting the two heroes on the list for the Go Home machine, your stomach growled once more. Now that Miguel was back, hopefully you two would get lunch and eat together in his lab like usual. It's almost as if he read your mind when pulling you aside.

“Hey, I'm not eating lunch now. I have a pile of reports I need to sign off on and it will take me a while.”

“Oh.” You ignored the disappointment in your chest. “It's okay. Work comes first.”

Miguel smiled, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for being understanding.”

Once taking his leave, you sat in a chair by the Go Home machine, eating your sandwich. You only had forty-five minutes, but with Miguel, it was usually close to an hour—perks of being a leader of Spider Society.

“Where the fuck are we?” You heard from one of the enclosures. Wolverine was finally awake.

“The future.” Deadpool said, “It's not all that. I didn't see a Taco Bell in here.”

“The closest thing to that are the tacos in the cafeteria.” You stood, tossing the wrapper from your sandwich away.

“Oooh, what about Mexican pizza? We don't even have those in our dimension because they keep taking it off the menu. Capitalism.”

“Can you not focus on food right now?” You see Wolverine shredded the neon webbing to pieces, understandably pissed off. “We need to get out of here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” You advise, “Not unless you wanna deal with hundreds of spider people as soon as you escape.”

“Yeah, we should sit this out, peanut.” Deadpool patted Wolverine's head, “Unless you wanna embarrass yourself again like when you fight Magneto.”

He growled, kicking the neon webbing away as if he had a personal vendetta with it. “Well, how long are we going to be stuck here?”

“Not long!” You look through your anomaly list, “After two Rhinos and one Mysterio.”

Wolverine sighed, his stomach growling, “Then is it possible to get some food? I'm fucking starving.”

“Are Mexican pizzas still on the table?” Deadpool rubbed his stomach.

“Sorry, I can't let you guys out.” You then look at your lunchbox, remembering the extra sandwich. Miguel wasn’t going to be able to eat it today. “Would a sandwich work?”

“I'd eat anything.”

“I believe him.” Deadpool added.

You slipped the duo the extra sandwich by partially opening up the cage. You told them to enjoy before going back to work. At least briefly before Deadpool started talking to past the time before you eventually had to send them home. You realized the man would keep going and going and going. Funny enough, it didn't bother you, considering working the Go Home machine tended to have a lot of quiet moments.

“I will say, despite being locked up in another dimension that's not my own, I would do it again if I had that hunk come get me every time.”

You lit up at the mention of Miguel. " Are you talking about the guy in the blue and red suit? Strong muscles? Arms you can get lost in?”

“Yes, him. Dude has an insane build. I'd like to have a party with him and two other guys. But you know what they say, four's a crowd.”

“…I thought the phrase was ‘three's a crowd’?”

“Not in this story it isn't.”

Wolverine roughly pushed Deadpool to the side, “Ignore him.”

“It's hard to when his voice resonates across the room.” You said with a hint of amusement.

“Now you see what I deal with every day.”

“I know, poor Wolverine.” You playfully pout, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“By the way, thanks for the sandwich. It was good.”

You weren't expecting a thank you from the rugged hero, but you appreciated it.

“You're welcome.”

After meeting the infamous Deadpool and Wolverine, you were sure you wouldn't see them again. You couldn't help, but be disappointed by it. Working the Go Home machine all by yourself tended to get lonely. You got occasional visitors like Margo, Jess, Ben, Miles, etc. Miguel was busy as usual.

So it was nice to have some company besides the usual anomalies who were either too dangerous or too confused to speak to.

Maybe it was pure luck when Miguel came in one day with a sigh, carrying the same Wolverine through the portal—no Deadpool, though. Once again, Wolverine was unconscious due to Jess when they put him in the cage, covered with webs.

“Looks like we got a repeater.” You put down the hero's name on the list.

“I'd rather take him over Deadpool.” Miguel stretched and you tried not to focus on his v-line, burying your face in the tablet.

“I don't know, he's pretty funny.”

“Replace that with annoying.”

Once Miguel lowered his mask, you noticed his exhausted eyes. The red was not as bright as it usually was. “Go take a break.”

“I can't.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So many mission reports, new dimensions, new anomalies.” He motioned over to the still knocked-out Wolverine. “It doesn't make sense to take one right now.”

You glared at him, “Go take a damn break, or else I'm blocking you from my watch.”

“You can't do that without administrative controls.”

“I'll ask Lyla to give them to me.”

On cue, Lyla appeared above your shoulder. “I'll do it, Mig. You know I'm always down for a little fun.”

Not wanting to deal with that, Miguel stands down, following your advice to take a break.

“I'll see you?”

You motioned around you to prove a point. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Miguel’s lips curled up briefly, shooting you through the heart. You etched his small attempt at a smile in your mind, wishing you had Lyla quickly take a picture to send it to you. This crush was so stupid. Why couldn't you get yourself together? You would never be with him anyway, considering that Spider Society was first—no one else.

“Not this again…” Wolverine woke again in the same predicament as before, just without his friend.

“Sorry. At least you know what to expect now.”

“And you think that makes me feel better?”

“…yes? You saying you didn't miss me?”

Wolverine shook his head, not wanting to show you his slightly amused face. “I didn't say that, princess.”

The nickname makes you pause, blood rushing to your cheeks. It was nice to hear.

“We’re already on a nickname basis?”

“I can take it back.”

“Oh no, no need, Wolverine.”

“Logan. Rather have you call me by my name if I'm gonna keep coming back here.”

“Who's to say this won't be your last time here?” You asked while getting ready to put the next anomaly to the machine. “Also, I knew your actual name, by the way.” You wiggle the tablet in front of him.

Once again, you were under the impression that Logan wouldn't come back. Except he did the next day. Willingly, as well. Not knocked out or tied up with webs. He just walked through the portal with the other spiders and plopped down in the cage, pouting.

You thought the situation was odd, so you asked Margo to come down for a minute to see if this happened before with other anomalies.

“Oh yeah, all the time.” She said while observing Logan. “Had this Black Cat that kept showing up for a whole month once. There was no glitch, no secret dimensions collapsing. It was weird.”

“Yeah, that's…very weird.”

“You telling me I'm gonna keep showing up here for a month?” Logan asked, obviously not happy about that.

Margo shrugged, “Maybe? It could be much shorter, but we'll have to see.”

She showed you the statistics of Logan's original dimension, and you noticed how everything looked normal. The numbers weren't off, and the citizens were okay. It was nothing to bring up to Miguel that would cause concern.

“Let me out of here then.”

You and Margo glanced at each other, “We can’t. It's against the rules since you're classified as an anomaly.”

Logan huffed, “Didn’t think you were such a rule stickler.”

You weren’t. You didn’t want to upset Miguel. If Logan kept returning, you might as well skip all the rules. At least make him more comfortable until the system got itself together.

You messed with the tablet to let him out. Logan and Margo were shocked at your actions, and the latter quickly pulled you to the side.

“So, you're gonna take the heat, right? If Miguel gets mad at you?”

“He’s not going to get mad.” You paused momentarily, “I don't think.”

“Y'all might be tight, but he won't let this slide.” She looked over your shoulder to watch Logan, who stood by the opened cage, tapping his foot while waiting.

“I got it.”

Your plan was simple: have Logan keep you company until it was time for him to go home. You weren't going to admit to anyone else that it was a task trying to get some of the bigger anomalies in the machine. The spider mechanical legs were hitting their limit, and you didn't want to put them through maintenance, somehow still proving to Miguel that you couldn't handle it.

Margo let you do your thing when you gave Logan his day pass to stop him from glitching until he went home.

“No fancy watch?”

“No, sorry. Keep in mind this is only temporary.”

Logan nodded before searching the premises, “Any booze around here?”

“There’s the spider bar, but it's not open now.”

He let out a short laugh, “Really? A ‘spider’ bar? You’re shitting me, right?”

“Uh, this is coming from the person who rides in a X-Jet.”

You hold back in grinning when he blinked, “Alright, you got me there.”

Logan was a big help in helping you take the anomalies back to their respective dimensions. He hardly complained once you told him you'd grab him a couple of beers from the bar. And he kept you company, which you never thought you needed in this line of work. Working with technology tended to be a solo job. You just got lucky when Miguel noticed you and saw your potential. He helped you grow into the position you are in now. So, in a way, you wanted to prove he didn't put you there for nothing.

However, you felt all that crashing down when Miguel stormed into the room, seeing Logan was out of the enclosure.

“Care to explain why we have an anomaly out and about?”

You held the tablet close to your chest as you tried to devise a good excuse. Despite his rushed actions, you knew Miguel wasn’t upset as his brows weren't creased.

“He’s not out and about. Logan is under my supervision.”

Logan grunted in agreement, downing a beer you rewarded him.

“You know that's not part of protocol.” Miguel said, hands on his hips. The typical leader pose.

“Relax, bub. She's just doing me a solid.” Logan cut in, and you tried to hold in your surprise of how quickly he downed that beer. “By the way, you need to get better beer. This is shit.”

“We've hardly had any complaints from other spiders.”

“For a bunch of guys that can't get drunk, it's really easy to not give a fuck. ”

Miguel’s face twisted in mild annoyance, and you quickly stepped in front of Logan to save him.

“Look, I know I'm breaking some rules here, but this is just until we figure out why he keeps popping up in other dimensions. I'll be careful.”

You strained your neck to look up at him, his eyes searching yours. He was so close to you. His breath brushing along your head, raising your heartbeat. Miguel suddenly backed off, his face a little annoyed, but he'll get over it.

“I trust you.” You relaxed your shoulders, glad he didn't demote you. He then focused his attention on Logan. “Watch yourself.”

Logan scoffed, “What, you think I'm going to steal her from you?”

“You did not just say that.” Your head shot back at him and you could see the amusement on his face.

“Big guy's acting like I'm hogging all the attention.”

Miguel pinched his nose, “Just make sure he gets home.”

You watch him storm off, unsure how you made him upset once again. Actually, it was Logan's fault this time. Yet Miguel didn’t say anything about his comment. It could've been a one-off. He's big on avoiding questions he didn't want to answer.

You decided not to dwell on it.

You jotted down every time Logan came through as an anomaly. It was like a game. You mark the day he comes through that portal, his face in his usual scowl. That quickly fades away once he sees you. You give him a few beers and he continues to complain about how terrible they are. Or how they're not as bad once you give it to him.

Whenever a villain anomaly needs to go back, Logan acts like your bodyguard—standing behind you to assert dominance. To not mess with you. They always intimidated you since you're among the few people in the building without superpowers. And you didn't want to bring that up to Miguel either. Luckily, Logan being there relaxed you.

In fact, despite his aura of not wanting to be messed with, he was delightful to talk to. Easily being engaged in the conversations you two have. There, he knew about your civilian life and how you decided to work at Spider Society to help make a difference. You didn’t expect to be in your current position, but you were grateful for it.

And you knew more about him. Every time an anomaly comes through, you get a dossier. Standard knowledge on whoever needed to get back home. But it never ran any deeper than that. Never gave you additional information about who they were as a person. Logan allowed you to see his other side when he told you about his dark past.

Somehow, you felt closer to him.

Miguel started acting strange whenever Logan was keeping you company. Before, you could count on one hand all the times Miguel came to see you when you started working the Go Home machine. Now, he was there a lot more than usual.

Saying he was checking up on how you're doing. If Logan was giving you any trouble, which the man didn't like that one bit. Making sure you were keeping to the daily quota of sending anomalies away. Playing into his boss role.

“Don’t forget to send me the system checkups before you leave for the day.” You gave him a thumbs up at Miguel’s reminder and said goodbye as he left for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

“I swear to god if he shows up here one more time...”

Logan unleashed one of his claws for emphasis and you got the point.

“He’s just doing his job. He can't have Spider Society start to slack. Otherwise-”

“The multiverse would start collapsing blah, blah, blah.” He grabs another beer, popping off the top with a slice of his claws. “I got it, sweetheart. I can still fucking complain about it though.”

You ignored your heart fluttering whenever Logan gave you nicknames like princess or sweetheart despite his relaxed tone. You found yourself eying his physique while he kept you company—especially those bulging arms. You weren't immune to how a man displayed his strength.

Your stomach churned when you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t be developing a crush on Logan too. You liked Miguel! And what was with you pining over men you never even had a chance with?

Speaking of pining for men you probably couldn’t be with, Miguel was finally free. After saying goodbye to Logan, he sent you a message asking if you were available. This was good; it was an excellent chance to see if your crush on Miguel remained since you two had been apart for a while.

Or maybe it wasn't good because once you walked inside, his face lit up at the sight of you. You hoped he hadn't heard your increased heartbeat.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked while trying to remain calm.

“Yeah. I wanted to see if you could keep me company.” Miguel said, “I've got to sign off on paperwork and you know how much I despise it.”

“Oh yeah.”

You got comfortable on the platform as he raised it, your legs dangling below. Miguel sniffed the air and grimaced at you.

“You smell like him.”

You purse your lips. “Smell like who? Logan?” Miguel grunted and you tried to hold in a laugh. “Well, he has been hanging around me almost every day.”

“I know.” His muscles tense up at the conversation. “I don't like you hanging around with him.”

You tilted your head, “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

Miguel remained silent, signing off on some more paperwork. You wish you had enough strength to knock him upside the head and quit the mysterious act. You'd be very successful, considering the lack of spider sense.

“Mig, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you don't tell me?”

You notice his shoulders tensed up more.

“He’s a drunk, too relaxed in his line of work, not serious when it comes to helping you with the machine.”

“He's been fine to me. And you know he can only get drunk, but for so long.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, brows furrowed. “He flirts with you.”

You wave him away, “It's harmless.”

“Not to me.” He's looking at you now. Serious. “He may have some underlying intentions.”

“What?” You start laughing, desperate to make this conversation feel like a joke. “Like he wants to get in my pants?” Miguel nodded to solidify it. “You know I'm a grown adult, right?”

“I'm only saying this as-” He paused as if he’s trying to figure out the right words, “as your friend. I know how men are.”

“So do I. I'm trying to understand what you gain in telling me this.”

“I don't gain anything. I'm looking out for you.”

“Bullshit.”

You wanted to leave his lab now. Miguel saying that too only made your crush on Logan even worse. Your mind now realizing that there's a possibility Logan likes you, but you were frustrated since you were so close to saying to Miguel that you like him. Just to see what he would say.

You grab his remote to the platform, lowering it to his surprise. You had to walk away and calm yourself down.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“It's getting late and I should go home.”

You try to step off, but Miguel’s in front of you, panic in his eyes. “Don’t leave.”

“You were trying to convince me that another guy I've been around only wants to get with me. For what reason? Because you’re my friend? Don't play with me, Miguel.”

You try to go past him, but he's quick, taking your hand and spinning you around. You almost fall against his chest, but he keeps you upright, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you angry at me. I just-” Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, words at the tip of his tongue. You don't say anything, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say. “I'm only saying this because I…I have feelings for-”

“Miggy!” Lyla called from above his shoulder, “We just got information back on-oh.” She noticed the two of you. “Oh no, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes.”

“No!” You quickly pull your hand away from Miguel’s. “He was just seeing me off. I'll head out now.”

Miguel called your name, “Don't go yet.”

“It's alright! I don't want to take you away from work.” You say goodnight to the two of them, booking it out of his lab.

Was he about to confess?

Confess what? That he liked you? It was absurd. Impossible. Miguel didn’t want you that way. At least you thought. Yet, when you came in the following day, he barely looked at you. He only said a simple good morning before continuing his leadership duties.

If he liked you, then why was he avoiding you? None of it made sense and you were trying to figure it out.

“You alright?” Logan asked, taking you out of your thoughts. You’ve been staring at the list of anomalies to send home for the day.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You proceeded to get rid of your confusion about the man that was Miguel O’Hara by bringing up the next anomaly. Logan doesn’t accept your words when he placed a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t know about that. The big guy didn’t stop by today to annoy the hell out of me, so something’s up.”

You grimace, thinking about the conversation last night. Would it be okay to tell Logan what Miguel told you? As you’re aware, your crush for the hero with the metal claws was blooming too. You thought you were handling it relatively well compared to your one with Miguel. Maybe it’s because deep down inside, he might be right about Logan when it came to you.

“It’s stupid now that I’m thinking about everything.”

“Well?” He folded his arms, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a disagreement last night. Miguel thinks that you’re being so flirty to me because you want to have sex with me.”

Logan sharply laughed. You tried not to let his apparent amusement sting your heart.

“Somebody’s jealous.”

You shake your head, “That’s not jealousy. He said it was out of concern.”

“And you believed him?” Your silence told everything Logan needed to know, making him chuckle once more. “I get it. You’ve seen yourself, princess?”

“I-huh?”

“You heard me. You’re not bad to look at. I’m surprised he’s taking so long to confess to you.” Logan struts over to you, your back against the console. He’s not trapping you, but the distance was closer than what you two have had before. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“And how does he look at me?”

Logan’s eyes were filled with want as he traced your body. You didn't want to admit how much it was turning you on.

“He looks at you the way I am now.”

You bit your lip, holding in a rising smile. You just received an indirect confession from a hero from another dimension. And an unspoken one from another hero in your universe. You can’t believe it.

“He doesn’t look at me that way.” You try to shut it down and not get ecstatic at the idea of two men pining over you.

“Wanna bet?” Logan gets closer to you now. You allow him, taking in hints of the whiskey you were able to swing him from the bar. “Kiss me. See how he acts then.”

You let out a surprise snort. “Like he’s watching us right now.”

“You think he isn’t?”

You purse your lips, knowing it’s not uncommon for Miguel not to watch over areas of Spider Society to make sure everything runs smoothly, including your space. Logan lets you make the move, your hands moving along his yellow suit, feeling his pectorals. His dark eyes watch you intensely when you slide up to his neck, draping your arms around it. His gloved hands rest on your sides and it unironically makes you shiver. It's the most interaction you’ve gotten in a while.

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

So you kiss him. The taste of alcohol on his lips incites you further. Your body pressed along his to feel more of his body. Logan’s hands map out your sides as if he doesn’t want to touch you further than he is already.

That’s when a rush of air goes by you. Logan is gone, his body against the wall, cracks forming around where he landed. Miguel’s imposing frame towers over him, arm tight on his neck, keeping him there.

“Guess I was right.” Logan strained, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh yeah? And I was right about you. Wanting to fuck her.”

“Before you could?”

Miguel growled, his hold on Logan getting tighter. “You really want to do this?”

“Buddy, I’ve been wanting to kick your sorry ass since the day we’ve met.” Logan’s claws unsheathed and panic started to set in. You did not want them to fight right here.

“Hold on, can we just take a minute to-”

They weren’t listening to you when Miguel was flown back, slamming into a console. The electricity slightly glitched his suit as he gathered his bearings, eyes on Logan the entire time. The Wolverine crouched, arms out wide in his battle stance. Miguel’s mask was up, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Guys, please don't do this. I don't wanna see you two get hurt-”

You took cover behind a console as they started to fight. Bits and pieces of technology flown everywhere. Strands of Miguel’s webs on the side. Marks from Logan’s claws all over. Bits of blood staining the floor and you weren't sure who it belonged to.

To say you were scared was the wrong word to use. Because you weren't, despite your head filled with your fast-paced heartbeat. Oddly, you were flattered.

After all this time of thinking you weren't the person Miguel wanted, the person Logan was into changed in a moment. They were fighting over you. You.

You liked it but didn’t want them to kill each other over it.

“Lyla?” You called the AI, who showed up in an instant.

“Hang on, I'm getting several system failures from the Go Home machine-oh my god.”

“Yeah. Can I get some help in here, please?”

Not long after, the men were separated. Some spiders held Miguel back while Logan had to be locked up once again to calm down. All of your coworkers were shocked at the destruction those two caused.

“Uhh what happened?” Jess asked Miguel, who didn’t say anything. He brushed by her to cool off. So she asked you, and you tried to come up with an answer that didn't sound weird.

“Miguel and Logan just had a misunderstanding.”

She pointed to the torn-up console that was currently being repaired, “How is that a result of a misunderstanding?”

You shrugged, struggling to say something cohesive. “I don't know. It's like I blinked and they started trying to tear each other’s throats out.” Because of you, but you didn’t add that part.

Jess rubbed her temples, “Alright. I'll talk to Miguel later. Are you okay, though? They didn't get you, right?”

“I'm fine.” You show her that there wasn’t a scratch on you. “Is it okay if I leave early though?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

You decided to stay home after that day—more out of embarrassment than anything. No one at Spider Society probably knew about the reason Miguel and Logan were fighting yesterday. Well, Jess might, but not anyone else. It felt embarrassing because you secretly liked it. Two incredible men in their respective fields want you, a random citizen.

You didn’t say a word to them when you left, so you couldn’t leave them high and dry.

That’s why you called Lyla, giving her instructions to have Logan stay until the end of the day if he showed up again and to call Miguel back to the Go Home machine around the same time. You needed to get yourself ready for what you wanted to say.

Time went by so fast for you.

It did not give you enough time to properly rehearse or to calm the anxiety stuck in your throat. Your shower went on forever, and you were sure you sat in your room for almost an hour trying to figure out the clothes you would wear as if you needed to woo them more than you’d already had.

You steeled yourself when walking into Spider Society, settling on a simple hoodie and jeans. You could barely hear yourself think as a few spiders greeted you, some asking why you weren’t here today. You didn’t have much time to talk, so you used an example of taking a mental health day. Because you absolutely needed it.

That’s when you walked to the machine room and saw Logan there, just as you expected. Margo was there too, and she was showing him how to play one of her favorite mobile games, which involved slashing fruit.

“Hey.”

Miguel appeared beside you, almost scaring you. “Oh geez, hey.”

“Are you…did you want to-?”

“Hey, hey!” Margo interrupted, greeting you with a wave. “I heard you were sick.”

“I took a mental health day.” You explained, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright.” She waved it off, “I was playing games with this guy all day.” Margo motioned to Logan, who didn’t say anything, folding his arms.

“Go home. I’ll take Logan back for you.”

You can see Margo wanting to question it despite hearing you needed a mental break. But there was an unknown tenseness in the air, and she was a smart girl.

“Uh, okay. See ya, Logan. Bye bye, boss.” Her avatar dissipated, leaving you three alone.

“You alright?” Logan asked to cut the silence.

“I'm fine.” You reassured.

“Are you sure?” Miguel stepped closer to you, “A lot happened that day, and part of it was my fault.”

“Don’t hog all of the blame.” Logan grunted, “It was my fault too.”

“You're both okay.” You reached over and took one of their hands, squeezing them affectionately. “I just didn't want you two to kill each other.”

“Like he would've tried.”

Miguel side-eyed Logan momentarily, “I could've given different circumstances.”

“Sure, bub.”

“Okay!” You focus their attention on you, not wanting to cause another fight. “I wanted you two here to address the giant elephant in the room.” Their intense eyes on you make you a little nervous, sweat clinging to the nape of your neck. You weren't sure what their reactions were going to be. If, after all of this, you needed to find a new job.

“I like you, " you say to Miguel. A light flickers in his crimson eyes, and you notice him trying to hold back a smile.

“I like you too.”

That confirmation boosts your confidence a little.

You then turn to Logan, “I like you too.”

“You're not too bad yourself.” He casually said. “Don’t know how the big guy is gonna take it.”

“I'm right here.” Miguel scowled at him before focusing on you. “What are you trying to say?”

“What I'm saying is…I want you both.”

It was a big risk saying something like that to both of them. None of them appeared to want to share their partner with another. Unless it's under specific guidelines. You didn't have any, but you knew how you felt. And if they didn't agree, maybe you were better off not being with anyone.

Miguel appeared to be hesitant, while Logan was hardly phased. “Not the first time I've had this offer.”

“It's different, but I know what I feel for you two is real. And I'm open to trying.”

The gears are turning in Miguel’s mind as he’s thinking it over, his hand never leaving yours.

“Okay. I'll try for you.”

You shimmied with joy, pulling both of them in for a hug. You felt their hard bodies and tried not to focus on how different they were from your own. There were many rules you probably needed to set, but for now, you wanted to take it as is.

When pulling back, you stopped short between the two of them. Miguel captured your attention by turning your head towards him with his index finger.

“Can I kiss you?”

You darted down to his lips before nodding. Miguel quickly captured your lips with his. You thought your kiss with him would be gentle and light. Instead, you felt the desperation of finally being able to taste you after all this time. His groans resonated across your ears, letting you know how much he wanted you.

Miguel kissed you so much that you felt dizzy when parting, but Logan's chuckle brought you back to reality.

“Was he better than me?”

Miguel sucked his teeth when you pretended to ponder, “I think I need another reminder.”

Logan kissed you, parting your lips to slip his tongue inside. He also groans in your mouth, a steady hand on your hip. You had to grip Miguel’s shoulder to keep balance when you parted again, also dazed.

“Well?”

“It's about the same.”

The two men groaned simultaneously, hoping you would say which one was better.

“You look pretty like this.”

“For once, I agree with him.”

That's when they began their journey of your body. Logan latched on to your neck, kissing and sucking on it while Miguel peppered your face with kisses, managing to capture your lips a few more times. They lingered on their respective sides, caressing your breasts, fingers tracing down your back, groping your ass.

Logan took over momentarily, your back against his chest while he sucked on your neck again. Miguel’s kisses on your lips silenced whatever escaped from your own. Their movement were picking up in speed, and you faltered trying to keep up with them.

“Fuck.” Logan paused, sniffing the air. “You smell delicious.”

You started getting flustered, “What? Don't tell me you can…” You squeezed your thighs together.

“I can smell you too.” Miguel sniffed, his being a bit more discreet.

This was about to be a problem. If you didn't say anything, you were sure clothes would be thrown all over the consoles. You didn’t need yet another scandal in the Go Home machine.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

That's how you managed two superheroes in your apartment. Two horny ones at that. Some part of you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up from a dream. The way their eyes stared you down, blown from lust, standing so close to you that you could feel their body heat. But this was real.

“If any of you guys are uncomfortable-”

“If we were uncomfortable,” Miguel started, unzipping your hoodie and tossing it to the side. " We would've said it, right?”

Logan grunted, coming around from behind and raising your arms. He pulled your shirt off in one motion, leaving you in your bra.

“You okay with this, princess?

His whispering made goosebumps form on your skin. “Obviously, since I started all of this.”

“Just checking.”

Logan picked you up, angling you in a way that allowed Miguel to remove your shoes and jeans. When he settled you down, Miguel wanted to admire more of your exposed skin. His fingers circled along your plush thighs. Logan's centered along your breasts, pushing them up against your bra and making you sigh in relief.

You didn't want to get too caught up in your pleasure, noticing the guys still had on their suits. You reach over to Miguel, feeling his chest to see how to remove the suit, but he stopped you with his hand on top of yours.

“I got it.”

With his watch, his suit is gone. Only leaving him in his boxers.

Logan grumbled, “Show off.”

You turn around, your back against Miguel’s chest. You felt his lips on your neck as you went to help Logan with his suit. Having a little difficulty with the multiple kisses he gave you on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. He helped you by guiding your hands to his zipper. As you pull it down, Logan pressed against you, practically sandwiched between two half-naked, bulky guys. Who couldn't stop kissing and touching you.

Your hands brushed along their hairy chests, noting how Miguel’s was softer than Logan's coarse strands. Suddenly, you were being picked up and laid flat on your comforter.

Both men were on each side of you, the bed slightly creaking from the extra weight.

“Whoever breaks my bed is gonna pay for it.”

Logan tsked, “Say that to money bags over there.”

“I'll take responsibility and get you a better one if it happens.” Miguel reassured you.

As they spoke, your bra was removed with one hand by Logan. Your panties were pulled down and thrown away by Miguel. Cold air hitting your cunt told you exactly how wet you were, aching for more.

“I'm eating her out. Since you stole my kiss.”

Miguel told Logan, who scowled, clearly not happy about it. But got over it once his lips trailed down to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. Miguel matched him, latching on to your other breast. His hands trailed down your stomach and to your aching cunt. You felt him falter when his middle finger went in your soaked hole.

Logan wrapped his arm around your thigh, spreading you wider for Miguel to continue pumping into you. You were having a hard time keeping quiet between Miguel lazily pumping two fingers into you while Logan was determined to create marks on your skin. Hands tangled into their hair, tugging on it occasionally to replace your moans. The action spurs them on even further.

Miguel trailed his lips down, across your stomach, appreciating the fat you have and running his tongue along your naval. So slow. So agonizingly slow. He gives you mercy by continuing his journey down, kissing on your inner thighs. Logan maneuvered so he was behind you again, your head resting comfortably along his chest while you were spread wide for Miguel. He’s hovered above your aching cunt, eyes glazed over at the sight of you.

“Let me know how she tastes.” Logan said while nudging into your head. His large hands cupped your breasts.

Miguel groaned against your sex when he dived in. His tongue parted your folds, his lips closing in to suck on your clit. There was no point in being quiet anymore, you moaning loudly as Miguel ate you out. One hand slid down his curls, creating a solid grip that could pull his hair out. Logan wasn’t missing out as he continued to massage your breasts, his beard scratching along your face. You grip the nape of his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. Tongues dancing amongst each other.

You were getting double the attention. Your body heating up at the pleasure. Miguel groaned against your drenched cunt, not stopping once to take a breather. He made sure your legs remained spread with his hands holding you down.

Even Logan didn’t let you try and move to escape your impending climax. Your breaths picked up, your lips wavering against his, your eyes rolling back. Miguel kept going as your body exploded with immense ecstasy. Your cries being a work of art and an indication of how good both of them made you feel.

You felt like you were floating as they kept prolonging your orgasm. Miguel lapping at your sex and Logan pinching your nipples.

“That means I can fuck her, right?”

It was Miguel’s turn to scowl at Logan. “No. I’m already in this position anyway.”

“But you got to taste her. Now, I get to fuck her.” Logan proceeded to move you around, but Miguel stopped him with a hand on your ankle.

“No way.”

“Guys…” You mumble, slowly gathering your bearings. You feel eyes on you when you roll over to the nightstand, pulling out your box of condoms. You toss them to Logan before giving Miguel a sympathetic look.

“Next time, okay?”

Before he could express his opinion, you crawl over to him, tracing your fingers around the lining of his boxers. You wiggle your ass and glance back at Logan, permitting him to pounce on you. You notice the apparent tent in Miguel’s boxers before pulling them down. His cock was huge with a slight curve, pre cum leaking from his tip. You make kitten licks around his lip as Logan gripped your hips, his cock rubbing against your ass cheeks.

He sunk into you, causing you to shiver in ecstasy. You moan against Miguel’s shaft, licking up and down. His hand had a gentle grip on your nape as he watched you.

“Tan bonita, nena (So pretty, baby)…”

You whimper when Logan slid out of you before thrusting back inside. The thrusts strong enough to have you jolt against Miguel’s cock.

“Fuck me…” Logan grunted, creating a delicate rhythm with his hips. “You feel…oh fuck…”

You moan while taking Miguel in your mouth. You try to take as much as you could while stroking the rest, matching the rhythm Logan created. His grip on your hips get stronger as well as Miguel’s on your neck.

A symphony was conducted in the bedroom. Your moans blended in with Miguel and Logan’s, who were the main stars. Their grunts and groans as they filled you up on both ends played well with each other. All you could do was take it, drool seeping down Miguel’s cock, creating more lubrication for you to stroke.

Logan’s grunts change pitch, getting deeper. His thrusts were getting disorganized, desperate to reach his peak. Miguel was on the same end. His hips push forward in your mouth, not enough to make you choke. Both of his hands are on your neck now, creating a faster rhythm to finish.

You wondered who was going to finish first.

“I’m about to…” Miguel warned you, ready to pull out, only for you to keep him there, still sucking his soul out.

“S-So am I-” Logan’s grunts turn to outright whines when he comes, latching on to your hips. Miguel isn’t too far behind when after a few more thrusts, his cum coat your throat. You swallow it all, not missing a single drop.

As Logan pulled out of you, Miguel moved you to rest your head, his bicep under it. Your hand grazing Logan’s chest when he lies beside you, capturing your breaths, allowing the space to reach a comfortable silence.

You tried not to let your thoughts wander to what would happen next. If all of this would be a one-time thing and everything would go back to normal tomorrow, you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I…” Miguel spoke against your head, “I thought we’d go on a few dates before this happened.”

You snickered, “We can still go on dates. Since this is going to be serious, right?”

“Right.” He kissed your forehead.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the aquarium.” You then smack Logan’s chest to capture his attention. He was on the verge of falling asleep. “Hey, you wanna go to the aquarium one day?”

“Anything you wanna do, I’ll do too.” He said with a short shrug. “Just give me a heads-up first.”

“Got it.”

Getting an overwhelming sense of gratitude, you gently kiss Miguel’s lips before leaning over to do the same to Logan. Your heart was whole and ready for this new chapter in your life.

Tags: @ghost-lantern @monarchberrysblog

#blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #logan howlett #logan howlet smut #miguel o’hara smut #logan howlet x reader #what do i do with myself #def in class freaking TF OUT #them smelling me…..OOOOOOO #PIG ROASTTTT #i mean who said that #COOOKIIIIIEEEEEE #I feel like i’ve been run over #a good feeling #mig always being loser coded is sooo MM MM MMMMM

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bluesidez · 8 months ago

Text

This is premium Hallmark……

12 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 ~ 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒘𝒐

Synopsis: It's the classic Hallmark tale: what happens when you, a business woman from the city, arrives at the family owned O'Hara Christmas Tree farm your greedy boss wants to demolish, and finds much more than you bargained for that fateful night you get snowed in?

CW: x FEM!READER, SMUT(unprotected p in v ,oral (f receiving), creampie, breast play, touch of mirror kink) enemies to lovers ish, DUBCON?(You're both a bit drunk), alcohol, touch of angst, mention of pregnancy

Words: 4.4k

A/N: a little late, mb but I hope it's worth it!😩 I'm on vacation rn but I'm dedicated to making this happen even if I'm a lil behind lolol

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

12 Days of Smutmas Masterlist 🎄🎁

You certainly weren't in Kansas anymore. Or so the saying went. This time you found yourself somewhere in the Catskills outside of Nueva York. Your high heels crunched on the gravel as you stepped out of your Uber, taking in the grand Christmas tree farm in front of you.

"O'Hara Ranch" was welded in iron lettering on a black sign above the entrance. You whistled as you took in the expansive acres of balsam fir trees, dusted in a thin layer of snow straight out of a painting.

It was no wonder your boss was so dead set on this place. You became keenly aware of the biting chill of the countryside as you huddled your arms closer around you, your pink blazer doing little to keep you warm as you started to quake in your Jimmy Choos with your laptop case and singular carry-on in tow.

----

Miguel grunted, scratching his lower back as his large, sturdy boots squeaked a little on his kitchen floor, eyes almost as dark as the warm beverage in his mug, looking out in silent disapproval at the black Escalade that pulled up, dropping off what he was certain was another employee from that pesky developer.

Some poor soul who had to be the shot messenger for a CEO who never strayed out of the wealthy privileged fairytale land they lived in, thinking that multiple commas would be enough to get him to sign his life away.

When would they ever learn? He thought. He puts down his mug on the counter then strides over to the door, placing one of his hats on his head before he goes outside to greet this new imposter.

---

You shuddered as you reached inside your pocket, taking out the flimsy scrap of paper that contained the phone number for the ranch and dialing it again, hoping to reach this Miguel, or whoever it was you were supposed to meet.

"C'mon..."

You shouldn't be surprised if he didn't pick up again. It was no secret that you were the bad guy in this situation straight out of a Hallmark film.

Corporate business lady visiting a Christmas Tree farm that's been in the same family for decades, beloved by all the locals, who forced them to sign over their American dream to a greedy land developer and demolish it to the ground for a lavish mountain resort, and 2 weeks before Christmas no less.

Just as the call goes to voicemail, a four wheeler's engine interrupts your train of thought. Just like out of a movie, you take notice of the very tall, dark haired, very handsome rider who sat astride it.

His long sleeved grey shirt did nothing but accentuate his rippling arm muscles, layered underneath a Carhartt vest, complete with a baseball cap and salt and pepper five o clock shadow on his sharp, steely jaw. His lips were plump and relaxed into a subtle frown, complete with thick brows and dark wavy hair that complimented the pair of rich brown eyes he possessed that compared to the slice of Earth he owned.

"Miss...?" He asks your name with an equally deep beautiful voice to match in slightly bored formality. You could tell it was painful for him to be polite to you like this, if you were the corporate imposter like he thought you were.

"Yes, hi! You're...M-Miguel, right?"

His expression remains unmoved. "That would be me."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Gorgeous property by the way! Really, it's much much better in person than the pictures-"

"Right." He replies stiffly. "There's really no need to be so gracious. I figure you're here for one thing and one thing only."

"Uh-" you reply, a little thrown off by what he means.

"And the answer is no. I understand you've got a job to do, but I've told your boss over and over again: no. Five years ago, it was a no. Last month, also no. Come back in a week, my answer will still be no. Thank you."

He revs the engine, getting ready to speed away.

"Wait! I really do need you to sign this! From the mayor?" You waved a pink colored document which caught his attention for once.

Miguel turned off the engine, hopping off the four wheeler and strode towards you. He shoots you a superstitious glance before his eyes flicker to the paper, slowly becoming more enraged as he scanned along the fine print:

Notice of Eminent Domain.

That bastard. There was a reason Miguel didn't vote for this prick. The new mayor was part of this recent wave of money hungry idealists in power who wanted to turn the humble town he grew up in into another rich touristy playground.

Usually, these folks couldn't wait to sign the dotted line, get their check, and be on their merry way, but this Miguel was taking his time reading every last stipulation in the document. You notice the snow is coming down harder and harder, your teeth chattering wildly as you did your very best to stay calm as the relentless cold tested your endurance. Finally, Miguel hands you back the paper with a sigh,

"Still not signin'. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Miguel." You felt your patience snapped in half by now. Between traveling all morning, your boss's incessant emails, and the cold ass weather, you had just about had it up to here.

"I'm sorry. But any complaints you have will just have to be taken up with the big man later. I came with a job to do and I have every intention of doing it."

"That so?" Miguel straightens up, flexing his height over you.

You were emboldened by this point through all the bullshit you had endured. "It is very much so. I'm not leaving this damn farm without a signature, and that's final."

"Hm." Miguel nodded his chin, as though he was calling your bluff before he swiftly turned around, walking back towards the awaiting four wheeler.

"Oh no you don't!" You huffed as your icecubes for feet magically thawed off of pure adrenaline and spite as you began to sprint.

"What the-" Miguel looks at you quizzically then his brow furrows when he sees you darting towards his four wheeler. "The hell you think you're doing??"

You ignore him and climb on, Miguel snickering a little bit at the prim and proper lady from the city now straddling his seat, slightly disheveled with a wild look in your eye from dealing with corporate messes all day.

"Get down." Miguel says sternly, coming up to stand next to you.

"No." You answer simply, smoothing your blazer.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Miguel's tone becomes more warning now. "Get off my property, woman."

"Sign my document, then." You fold your arms.

"You're a brat, y'know that?" Miguel folds his arms too, incredulous at your undying persistence, more like annoyance. "So childish."

"Name calling? And you say I'm the childish one." You turn your nose up at him.

"I'm not the crazy lady jumping on a stranger's four wheeler that she doesn't even know how to drive." Miguel grumbles.

"You'd be surprised." You glare.

Both of you just sit there in silence, the snowfall has escalated to just short of a blizzard by now. You're trying but failing to conceal just how damn cold you are as you shiver and shudder. Miguel's mind brews with some ideas before he speaks.

"Alright." Miguel sighs "I'll sign your damn document. But I need to show you the place first. Just so you can get an idea of just how sick and twisted you people truly are: tearing down a place like this that's been in the family for generations."

"What?" You blink, not expecting this change of events. "But I mean- but..." You glance at your wrist watch. "It's almost 4 pm. I was supposed to be on the road a half hour ago."

"Not in this storm you're not." Miguel tsks his teeth. "They always close the canyon when it snows. You won't be able to go anywhere until the morning. But hey, if you wanna call an Uber and wait four hours for him just to be turned around at the bridge, then be my guest."

"You-" You shuddered and groaned, exasperated at the fact that Miguel appeared to have the upper hand this time. You were stuck playing by his rules.

"Fine." You resign, throwing your hands up.

Miguel smirks at this surrender in you, getting on the four wheeler behind you. He's aware the space between your bodies is now very thin, his chest just barely grazing your back as he leans forward, placing his hands on both handlebars.

You try not to make it obvious that you can't breathe and realize you might be in way over your head being stuck overnight with a man four times handsome as he was stubborn as Miguel drives you rapidly towards his ranch.

----

"Home sweet home." Miguel hums halfheartedly as you enter the elaborate living area of Miguel's mountain home. Several brown and white cowhide rugs were spread over the polished wooden floors, a large pair of antlers hung over a luxury stone hearth, with an inviting leather couch in front of it.

A short time later, you're absentmindedly staring at some photographs on the wall when Miguel's voice startles you.

"Had enough snooping?"

"I wasn't snooping!." You whirl around, pretending to avert your gaze. "I was admiring the antlers."

Miguel scoffs. "You're a terrible liar, you know."

"Who is that?" You ask, voice a little more gentle. You kind of wish you never asked when Miguel's eyes soften with the slightest tinge of melancholy.

"My daughter." He answers then clears his throat. "She passed some years ago."

"Oh..." You look at him then back at the photograph of the cheery bright eyed girl in it. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks." Miguel answers shortly, crossing over to the bar on the far side of the room.

"I can see why you don't want to leave." You admit, crossing your arms and running your palms up your arms as the glow from the fireplace worked quickly to rid you of any lingering chill from outside. "For what it's worth..."

Miguel scoffed again. "You don't need to play the sympathy card to win points with me."

"I- No Miguel! Of course not!" You look at him in horror. "Really, you think I take pride in doing these things to folks like you? You think I'm some souless corporate ghoul that drinks blood of the innocent?"

"Yes." Miguel stays deadpanned, with the faintest glimmer of amusement.

"Oh shut up." You blow air through your lips and stride over to where he's standing by his bar. "What do you have to drink around here anyways?"

Miguel smiles, the bourbon in his glass had made him feel a little more comfortable by now. He glanced outside, eyes slightly widened in surprise at the complete blizzard that was unfolding outside the frosty window.

"You might wanna go for something a bit stronger than that." Miguel nods in the direction of the window.

Your fingers move away from the canned margaritas in the mini fridge. You realize bourbon is also the answer tonight when you lay eyes on the absolute winter wonderland outside.

You had never seen so much snow in your life, as a seemingly infinite stream of snowflakes littered the staggering blankets of pure white that would be nearly waist deep should you venture back out.

Even though the night was completely black, the shimmery powder stood out, illuminating the December night among the silent and formidable evergreens.

"Damn..." You whispered.

"Damn is right." Miguel polishes off his bourbon. "Another round for me too, when you get a chance." He slides his glass towards you across the polished wood.

"Please?" You quirk a brow at him.

Miguel chuckles, the sound deep and a little breathy. The feeling it left you...quite unexpected. "Yes, please."

You hum and fill his glass a quarter of the way after you pour your own into one of the small shot glasses you spied below the countertop, throwing the liquid fire back in one ragged gulp.

Miguel laughs at the face you make and little cough you let out as your eyes water. "Miss Corporate can't handle a little country bourbon?"

"Miss Corporate can handle herself just fine." You give him a small harrumph. "Miss Corporate wishes to remind Mr. Country Man that she is still here strictly on business and she has no problem decking him in the face should he continue to mouth off."

"Hmmm business, eh?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh, I think we're way past that." Miguel smirks as he leans forward a little closer towards you. "You're having a drink with your evictee. Can't imagine that's not frowned upon."

"I've had drinks with clients before." You huff, hastily grabbing the bottle and pouring another shot as if to prove a point. This one went down with less resistance, albeit still just as fiery as the one before.

"Cálmate."(Calm down) Miguel goes to grab the bottle from you just as you're about to pour a third when the sudden move causes the bourbon to splash a little, ending up on your thousand dollar blazer.

"You... idiot." You roll your eyes as Miguel snorts.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry." Miguel steps towards you, trying to help.

"Nope, you've done quite enough." You huff, trying to disguise the warmth the alcohol was quickly dispelling all over your body.

"I insist."

"Miguel, fuck off!"

"Come here, dammit..."

And you're not sure exactly what happened, but in that moment his body was pressed up against yours and your faces were mere inches from one another.

This was dangerous now. You knew it, and he knew it, but for Miguel, he was at risk of losing everything anyway. Who could blame him if he wasn't going to make the most of this...convenient situation that presented itself to him. It didn't help that you were quite easy on the eyes as well.

He pauses as if holding his breath, those deep, deep eyes completely swallowing you up where you stood, the faint sting of the bourbon you can detect on his lips that he wet ever so slightly.

"M-Miguel, I really shouldn't, I-"

And you can't remember exactly what drove your lips to meet in that heady first kiss, or how his touch moved from your face, to your neck, whether you were the one who guided him, or his hands wandered on their own accord to the sensitive swells of your breasts, but here you were, up against this tall, rugged farmer you thought you hated only 20 minutes ago, breathing and panting into his mouth and kissing him like your life depended on it, completely contradicting everything you ever said.

He began to rock his hips against you, hands now on either side of your head, caging you against the wall. You could tell he loved being bigger than you, finally something he had to humble all the sass you loved to throw at him earlier. A not-so-secret attraction you had for him all this time you feebly tried to disguise with disdain.

Miguel felt it too, and God, right now he couldn't get enough of all the little whines and sounds you were making. How desperate you got just from a little deep conversation and bourbon. This night was swiftly traveling in a more heated direction, and if he wasn't mistaken by the subtle rolls of your body against his aching bulge in his jeans and the hunger laced in your fingers as they tangled in his hair, you had no intention of stopping.

"Not so feisty now, are you?" He groaned as he started leaving heated kisses along both delicate junctures of your neck. "Sure you're not gonna change your mind and go back to stealing my farm, hermosa?" He teased.

"Oh, fuck off..." You grumbled and then bit your lip, back arching involuntarily when you felt him just barely tug your delicate nipple with his teeth. "Aaah Aahhh, Miguel..." You threw your head back.

Miguel smirks and takes that as permission to lay you back completely on his bar, gently tugging the waistband of your business slacks while he switched between both tits and lapped them with the pointy tip of his tongue, until both buds of your nipples were bumpy and hard from all the attention. "You can still stop at any time..."

"N-No more asking..." You managed to sputter out as you felt his fingers begin to wiggle against your clothed heat that was steadily soaking from the inside. "Just- fffuck, Miguel, so good...just fuck me..."

"Mmmm..." Miguel groaned in satisfaction and yanked off your pants, followed by your panties without another word.

Pure ecstacy rolled off the tip of his tongue and dripped between your warm folds as he began to slurp your pussy up like hot cocoa. Miguel strategically left your high heels on, smirking as he glanced over at the mirror on the wall, seeing the pretty businesswoman half naked and back arched so beautifully, moaning as he ate you out on his bar.

Despite never knowing your body before, his tongue just seemed to find and hit all the right spots, even the ones you were too impatient to look for when you laid in bed all alone. He sucked, and he spit, rolling your clit so perfectly between his lips and leaving no inch of your pretty pussy unbathed by his tongue.

He alternated between tongue fucking you where his thick nose squished against your clit, hands slinking up the soft flesh of your hips, encouraging you to grind on his face. When he paused and brought his face up to look at you, you swore he was never more handsome than when his face was shiny with your slick, dripping with the evidence that he could make you wetter than any man you'd ever been with.

And other times, he loved to just stare into your eyes with that same, beautifully mesmerizing gaze that was almost too intense to where you'd have to turn away, only for him to whisper, "ah, ah, mirame..." (Look at me) , while his thumb slowly rubbed over your swollen clit, and his middle and ring finger noisily and wetly massaged your squishy walls.

"Miguel, baby, so good..." You moaned and you sighed, face twisting into a smile as you bit your lip. It felt so shameless to indulge right now. Your career hit the road the second you decided to kiss him but right now you weren't complaining. Logic took a permanent vacation leaving you with nothing but raw, carnal need. All that mattered right now was spreading your legs for this man, being his whore, riding his face and taking his cock every which way he'd have you tonight.

Your eyes watered as you felt that familiar feeling swelling in your belly, thighs shaking more unsteadily than before. Your back slightly arched from where you laid on his bar but the pleasure Miguel kept injecting into you with his sinfully delicious tongue kept you right there.

"M-Miguel...I'm gonna cum."

Miguel went even harder, nuzzling his nose even further into your dripping heat, savoring the dribbling honey running between your thighs and dripping into his mouth. He added his fingers again, fingers normally rough and taut and calloused from all that work he did on the farm became soft, intentional, sensual, and deliberate as he coaxed your pussy closer and closer to releasing all over for him.

Your thighs began to quiver around his head, clamping down, however Miguel would gladly suffocate every time for the cause.

"R-right there, Miguel..."

"Right here, baby?" He groans, swirling his finger in circles over that tried and true spot on your clit, another gush of your juices wetting his fingers before the flood, and Miguel leans over to clean it up with his tongue.

Every touch now feels amplified in electricity, bordering on overstimulation as his tongue glosses over your soaked folds, something changing in your brain chemistry as he licked up every bit of your arousal as though it were frosting from a bowl.

"Still with me?" Miguel whispered, leaning in and making out with you as he scooped you into his arms, leading you over to the couch, the entire room painted in an alluring orange glow from the fire next to the warm yellow lights from the tall Christmas tree.

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his soft, messy lips, the ember of desire burning hotter than ever in both of you. "Y-yeah..."

Miguel smiles as he sets you down next to him, reaching over and pulling a fleece blanket over your shoulders. His thumb gently brushed the corner of your mouth as he took you in. The most sobering moment between you all evening. One where the alcohol had some time to sink in and both of you were riding out the end of your high together. A new kind of closeness beginning to set itself alight between you as you wordlessly began stripping off the rest of your clothes and you reached for his.

"Can I?" You asked and a low groan rumbled from his chest.

"Please."

You weren't sure, but somehow despite his sass, his generosity and sole focus on making you cum with no assumption on his part that you would be obligated to do the same for him made you even more determined as you peeled back layer after layer, until he sat there in all of his naked glory in front of you.

He was absolutely beautiful. The salt and pepper pattern from his stubble on his jaw was repeated in his happy trail, leading to a nice, thick, bush around the base of his thick, veiny, cock (More fun for you when you'd be riding him into next week later on).

The tip was just barely a hint of red as it bloomed with precum. His legs and arms were hairy as well, stomach soft with just the right amount of pudge but everywhere else was solid pure muscle that could only be found on a man who worked hard in the elements, dark hair tousled a bit that fell in his eyes from your passionate fingers earlier.

The throbbing ache pounded, the glistening sheen between your thighs was all the lube you needed as he pulled you into his lap. Miguel's eyes remained completely locked on you, softening a bit as he felt himself start to push inside you.

He had suspected sometime around while you were moaning his name and he was lapping up your arousal like an oasis that this whole encounter was deeper than a hookup, and now, he realizes he's sunk: hook line and sinker as your pussy just grips and squeezes him. He sighs as his hands find residence on your hips, taking pleasure in kneading the soft fat.

"Take your time...." He whispered as he noticed you struggling a bit under his sheer size, his girth slowly spreading you more open. Somehow though, the stretch felt more rewarding, more sinful as you became fuller and fuller of him as you just allowed yourself to relax.

Miguel's cock bottomed out inside of you, an experimental twitch of his cock reminded you on all fronts that you were stuffed to the brim. He adored this, he loved being so close to you like this, loved the satisfaction that the woman who supposedly hated his guts at first was now completely putty in his hands as you wrapped effortlessly around him.

"So damn warm..." Miguel purred as he began bouncing you in a slow rhythm. "Ah, ah, mas despacio, por favor(more slow please)..." He teased, grip tightening as he slowed your hips. "I wanna enjoy you like this for a while." He grunted and groaned, loving the way you just responded with more dripping slick around his base as he leaned in to suck on your tits while keeping himself buried inside. "If I'd known you felt this good I would've dragged you out of that fucking snow a lot earlier." He murmured before his lips puckered over your nipple.

"Please, Mig..." You rolled your eyes but returned a chuckle with a sigh, gently rolling your hips while his cock remained warm and snug inside you. "I'll admit when you pulled up on that four wheeler, it was kind of hard not think about you bending me over the seat.."

"Yeahh?" Miguel groaned as he churned his hips, drawing his cock in and out of your sea of wetness. "Shouldn't have told me that, now I might need to make that happen..."

As he spoke, his pace increased faster and faster.

"Aaahh, Miguel...Miguel!" Your threshold was being tested on how much you could take, but nearly fell apart altogether when he added his thumb back to your clit while continuing to fuck up into you ruthlessly.

"Come on baby, with me...let go."

And your highs came in waves, yours first followed by his like a bursting dam. His cum overwhelmed your tight hole, causing it to dribble down the sides in filthy display but you loved it, shoving yourself back down on his cock with naughty enthusiasm. Miguel smirked at you, eyes still slightly dazed from euphoria.

"Good to see you're not wasting any, baby."

And before you knew it he picked you up, yelping slightly then giggling when you took the initiative of squeezing your thighs tighter around his waist, cock still softening slowly inside your silky pussy, but beginning to pulse back to life as you and Miguel began making out passionately while he took careful steps with you cradled in his arms to his bedroom.

Perhaps by now you didn't have a job anymore, the future of Miguel's farm was still uncertain, surely you'd be the talk of the entire town come a few months later when your tummy would be swelling with the evidence of every steamy thing that took place tonight inside this snowed in ranch. But, for now, you had much harder, longer, thicker things on your mind as round two became three, then four, with a surprise fifth in the middle of the night and a sixth in the morning.

When all is said and done, you could always just blame it on the snow.

#jelly's 12 days of smutmas ✼ ｡ﾟ･ྀི𓈒 ݁⋆#blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara smut #ok but did they take his land away 😞#AND AND AND GABI….😞#look at what brown liquor makes you do #SHAKING MY HEAD #wouldn’t mind rancher mig in between my legs at all tho #I MEAN WHO SAID THAT #it would be kind of funny if he brought her to heaven and still didn’t sign the papers #BUT THE FOUR WHEELER….DONT GIVE ME IDEAS JELLY

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bluesidez · 10 months ago

Text

And what if I told you this is going to be on my mind hourly

I've been possessed by a thought recently. It's nothing someone hasn't done already, but take my hand and hear me out, please 😩

Think about a Miguel, who drives a Chevy Silverado and wears a sombrero vaquero and this kind of clothing.

He's a quiet, respectful, educated, and honest man who works hard to provide for his parents and sibling (let's pretend Conchata and George are not like in the comics), you know, quiere sacar su familia adelante (wants to push his family forward). 😩🥺

He's a gentleman and a hopeless romantic, who may not seem like it because he's so focused on working hard. All the girls at the parties talk about el muchacho (the young man) Miguel O'Hara, one of the most handsome and eligible solteros (bachelors) of the community, along with his brother, Gabriel. He's not a flirt, running around with every pretty girl he sees. No, he's the kind to only date to marry and even though it may not seem like it, he hopes to marry someone like that one day.

one more thought and the music he probably listens to below the cut!

Back to the respectful stuff, he probably tips his hat when greeting someone and when he interacts with young women, he addresses them as "señorita". He's a respectful man, but especially to his elders because he was raised to be like that. He's the kind of man to immediately offer assistance when needed, like helping the older ladies (las doñas) reach for something on the higher shelves.

Also, he's the kind of man to open the door of his truck for you and help you up if you're a shorty like me. 😍🤭

Bonus: I like to think his hats are special to him because they're handmade from Mexico, so they're authentic ones. He takes really good care of them so they'll last longer since he knows they'll wear out with normal use. He probably hardly lets Gabriel borrow them, but once he starts dating you, Miguel happily places his hat on you because he loves the sight of you wearing his hats.

Music I think he'd listen to (it's all in Spanish; I'm sorry non-Spanish speakers😔with Youtube links)

"¿Y Todo para Qué?" - Intocable "Hecha Pa' Mi" - Grupo Frontera "Tragos Amargos" - Ramon Ayala y Sus Bravos del Norte "Mi Golondrina" - Ramon Ayala y Sus Bravos del Norte "Adoro" - Bronco, Armando Manzanero "Te Aprovechas" - Grupo Limite "Sentimientos" - Grupo Limite "Desvelado" - Bobby Pulido

I'll let go off your hand now, thank you for hearing me out and being delusional with me😊

#blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #every time miguel is hc as driving a big truck I feel more alive #god why is he not real #i need him #severly #PLEAASSEEEAAAUGGHH

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bluesidez · 2 months ago

Text

feel like a I smoked 10 packs

📄 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐒𝐚𝐲: 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐜

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.1k

𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: Wife!Reader, Anniversary planning, Angst, Lingerie trying on scene, Body image issues, insecurities, mentions of low self-esteem, Sexual vulnerability, Cliffhanger

𝐀/𝐍: Another vent fic, yippee

��𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your anniversary is around the corner, and you were the one who suggested a weekend getaway at a luxury hotel. But as the date drew nearer, a quiet distance grows between you and Miguel. Now, you’re not even sure if he still sees you the way he used to.

You sliced the bagel in half and slid both pieces into the toaster before cracking two eggs into a hot pan. The morning was starting slow and gentle, the kind where light crept in quietly from the horizon, casting golden threads over the countertops.

Not too much time passed before you heard the familiar sound of your husband’s footsteps approaching the kitchen— measured and heavy, like he was still half-running on autopilot. He always moved like this in the early hours, as if his body was going through the motions while his mind was just lagging behind.

He mumbled a quiet “morning” to you, pressing a kiss on your cheek in passing. You caught the mix of soup and crisp sandalwood from his aftershave, still clinging to the skin along his jaw. It was brief, but enough to leave a trace of him lingering before he headed straight for the pantry.

You didn’t need to look to know he was reaching for the coffee jar. It was part of his rhythm of your mornings. However this time, he lingered. Too long. You glanced over your shoulder just as a familiar, digital voice echoed from the pantry.

“And that’s what happens when you have three shots of espresso every morning,” LYLA teased, her voice bright with faux concern.

Miguel muttered something unintelligible in response, irritation low in his throat.

“Is the coffee finished already?” you mused, wiping your hands on the kitchen towel. “I could’ve sworn I got a fresh bag last week.”

Miguel frowned as he peered at the nearly-empty jar, sighing when he only found a few stubborn grounds clinging to the bottom. He tilted the jar, as if sheer willpower might coax more grounds.

“I suppose I do drink a lot of coffee,” he muttered, setting it down with a sigh. “But if I remember correctly, you were the one who made me switch to decaf last week.“

LYLA’s marigold-hued hologram flickered beside his shoulder. She lounged dramatically mid-air, arms folded behind her head. “Looks like you're gonna have to cut back on your coffee intake, big guy.”

“Thanks for the reminder, LYLA.” Miguel responded dryly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s alright,” you said, turning back to the stove. “I’ll make sure to grab extra coffee when I go grocery shopping.”

That seemed to ease his scowl, though he still looked mildly betrayed by the coffee shortage. He always liked his brew extra strong— anything less felt like a personal insult to his stamina.

“Can you get a dark roast this time?” he asked, reaching for his mug and salvaging the last remaining coffee grounds straight from the jar.

You gave him a teasing smile and agreed. But you added not to finish it too quickly again. Miguel exhaled through his nose, admitting in quiet defeat and agreed. He knew he would have to cut down anyways to avoid another shortage.

LYLA perked up again, her heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down her nose slightly as she smirked. “You're so dependent on caffeine, Miguel. It's not healthy. Have you ever thought about herbal tea?”

“Herbal tea is good!” you chirped, slicing into an avocado. But Miguel only grimaced, like you’d just offered him hot water and lies.

“I think I’ll stick to my espresso. But thanks.”

You laid a warm egg over the toasted bagel, layered on the avocado slices, and slid the plate across the counter.

“Here’s yours,” you said, nudging it closer. “And…please try to have the whole thing and not just a few bites.”

Miguel accepted the plate with a sheepish half-smile, scratching at his jaw like a man caught red-handed. Only you could reduce him to something so soft, so quietly unsure.

“Gracias, amor. Looks great.” He paused, a flicker of guilt passing through his features. “I know I don’t eat enough sometimes. I’ll work on that.”

“More like most of the time,” LYLA quipped.

“Do you have to be mouthy all the time?”

“You did program me with sarcasm subroutines, Miguel.”

After plating your own bagel and pouring a glass of juice, settling across from him at the dining table. You weren’t nearly as reliant on caffeine as you husband— then again, your schedule wasn’t nearly as chaotic.

“So, what's the day like today?” you asked, taking in the scent of the eggs before you took your first bite from the bagel.

LYLA summoned another holographic screen, showcasing the itinerary for the day. There were some entries written in all caps for urgent matters.

“Well, you've got a meeting with the finance team at 9,” she began in a practiced tone, “training session at 11, lunch with the research division at 1, and a one-on-one meeting with Gwen in the afternoon. Oh, and the new recruit.”

Miguel sighed. “It’s gonna be a long day…”

“A new recruit?” you asked, pausing mid-bite.

“Yeah, we've got a new recruit joining the team today,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still need to handle the briefing and everything with them.”

“If I had access to the recruit’s file, they’d be briefed yesterday—”

“No,” Miguel cut her off firmly, giving the hologram a pointed look, effectively shutting down any more snide remarks. “Don’t start with that again, LYLA. We’ve been through this before.”

LYLA didn’t argue, but still retreated with a pouty expression.

“We'll get to the briefing when the time is right. Besides, I'm sure the recruit can wait a few more hours.”

“Uh huh,” LYLA drawled, plopping herself comfortably on his shoulder. “Like you wait for your coffee in the morning.”

“You're incorrigible, you know that?” Miguel retaliated.

You stifled a laugh as you watched the exchange. Miguel and LYLA’s dynamic was always amusing to witness— her snarky remarks grating on his nerves just enough to get a rise out of him. Sometimes she would say things out loud, things that you would rather keep in your head to spare his feelings

But for all her sass, Miguel respected her. LYLA kept the Spider Society from collapsing under the weight of the multiverse threats— cataloging anomalies, coordinating missions, issuing alerts. Without her, the whole operation would be in chaos.

Their relationship was a strange cocktail of frustration and loyalty, with Miguel begrudgingly acknowledging that he relies on her more than he cares to admit.

“You know, uhm.” You cleared your throat as you put your bagel back on the plate. “Our anniversary is in two weeks… Is that on the schedule, too?”

Miguel glanced over at you, his eyes softening and the tension on his shoulders eased from your words. “How could I forget? Of course it's on schedule.”

LYLA’s hologram flickered into the space between you both, grinning behind her sunglasses.

“In bold caps, highlighted in red…” she drew out her words.

Miguel sighed, already too tired to deal with her antics. “LYLA, please…”

Miguel was meticulous with scheduling— he had to be, with how fast everything moved around him. Most entries were strictly business: reports, patrol, debriefing.

But after you got together, he started to make space for the both of you. Dinner dates, gifts. Even mundane things like grocery shopping. He never said much about it, but it always meant something when you saw yourself pencilled in between saving worlds.

You imagined the look on his face when he added your anniversary to the schedule with a concentrated furrow in his brow. The one he always wore when he was deep in thought. You could almost picture it, his lips pursed as he flagged the day as a priority.

“Do you have anyone to cover for you for that weekend,” you asked.

Miguel nodded, swallowing a mouthful of the bagel. “Yeah, I’ve been putting in the notice for a while. And it’s going to be a very busy weekend for us.”

There was a faint glimmer in his eyes that sparked a suggestive undertone. It made your heart flutter, and heat crept up your neck— just like it used to when you first started dating.

He took another bite, then dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. A subtle smirk tugged at his lips, almost hidden, but you caught it before it vanished again. “But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

“We still haven't got anything planned,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “Is there anything you want to do in particular, or… I could take the reins and find us something this time?”

You hadn’t exactly planned to offer, but the words slipped out on a whim with a flicker of excitement. Maybe it was the quiet confidence humming under your skin this morning, or maybe it was the way Miguel looked at you— like he trusted you with something small but significant.

The idea of planning something perfect for the both of you made your heart hammer in your chest a little harder— equal part thrill and pressure. This wasn’t just an outing. It was your anniversary, a milestone.

Miguel seemed to sense the weight of that too. His gaze softened as he leaned back slightly, choosing the latter. “I trust your taste. You always pick things I end up liking more than I expect.”

Oh, he didn’t know what that kind of trust did to you.

“Alright,” you smiled easily. “I think I’m confident enough to pick something we’ll both like.”

Before he could respond, a soft rhythmic beep interrupted the quiet. A holographic call alert blinked above LYLA’s avatar.

“Miguel, you’ve got an upcoming call from Jess,” LYLA reported.

Miguel stood up, brushing the crumbs from his shirt. “Tell her I'll call back when I leave the house.”

“Roger that. I'll let Jess know you'll call back shortly.”

He finished the last bit of bagel— finally, much to your relief— and downed the last sip of coffee before rising fully from his seat. His movement grew brisk now, more mechanical as he shifted into work mode. There was still something practical and calm in the way he adjusted his gizmo watch, smoothed his shirt.

You stood as well, brushing your hands along your thighs to clear the crumbs. He was halfway down the hallway when you caught up with him.

“Have a good day,” you said softly.

“Thanks. You too.” he echoed your affection, his voice low and fond. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.”

That made the flutter return— warm, sudden, and no less potent. You reach up to press your lips on his in a kiss, lingering for half a beat longer. His mouth moved against yours, slow and certain, before you pulled away first.

Miguel didn’t turn back just yet, almost like he wanted another kiss but didn’t want to admit it.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?” he breathed against your cupid bow, tempted to chase after your lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you do to me,” you teased back, pulling yourself away completely to look at him fully.

Miguel only chuckled under his breath, but you could sense the heat brewing from him. With a mix of restraint and want, the kind that stayed even after he walked away.

Finally, he turned and tapped the interface of his watch. A swirl of colour unfurled in the hallway, casting a ripple of shimmering light across the floor.

You stood still as your husband stepped into the portal and vanished. The colours folded in on themselves, collapsing into silence and leaving you alone with the faded warmth of the kiss you just shared.

A few hours had passed since Miguel left, but the thought of your anniversary hadn’t left your thoughts since breakfast. Even while running errands, the idea kept looping through your thoughts— not just what you would do, but the fact that you were in charge. And that part was starting to feel real.

Back home, you dropped your keys in the dish by the door and sank into the couch with your laptop perched on your knees. The living room was quiet, warm with the late morning light, and smelled faintly of citrus from the candle you lit earlier.

With a deep sigh, you opened a browser tab and started typing without much confidence. You figured if you were going to book something for the occasion, you should start looking now. Better to have a secure idea rather than dragging it out till the last minute.

‘Anniversary ideas for married couples.’

There were a lot of results but what came up wasn’t exactly inspiring. Sunset diner cruises. Couples massages. Personalised matching mugs.

They were pretty generic, too expected. This wasn’t just another date night. This was your anniversary. Something worth remembering, even ten years from now.

You kept scrolling, clicking through half-hearted blogs and articles. A weekend getaway out of the states was tempting at first glance, but the logistics quickly killed the fantasy. Booking a trip with only two weeks notice was definitely not ideal. Not with Miguel’s schedule.

You could already imagine the grimace on his face if you sprang it on him. He’d need to prepare, clear time, figure out if LYLA could hold things down. You didn’t want to give that extra headache. You shook your head and closed the tab.

You wanted something intimate. Something thoughtful and still unforgettable.

But so far, every idea just felt like a placeholder. You changed your search.

‘Non-traditional anniversary ideas.’

‘Things to do if you hate planning but want to be romantic.’

‘Anniversary ideas that don’t involve flying or fancy dinners.’

There was nothing that sparked your interest. You tapped on the cold metal surface of your laptop, staring at your half-filled notes. You had a few decent options— couples pottery classes, a private cinema rental. But none of them really felt like you and Miguel.

You were already on the second page of your browsing session, your tabs multiplying by the minute. Another generic listicle, another Pinterest-perfect weekend getaway that didn’t feel like you. Still, there was one headline that made you pause.

‘Boutique Hotels That Cater to Grown-Up Romance’

You scoffed— corny much— but clicked on it anyway. What did you have to lose?

At first, the article felt tame. A few charming bed- and-breakfasts with clawfoot tubs. But as you scrolled through slowly, you discovered there was more than meets the eye.

‘A discreet, five-star intimacy hotel design for privacy and indulgence.’

You blinked at the screen. A hotel that catered to…that?

You’d heard of sex hotels before, sure. But the images in your head had always been less than flattering— neon signs that plastered the room, crushed velvet floors, and leftover remnants of previous…guests. Not exactly your idea of romance. Or hygiene.

But the ones that you saw on the screen seemed nothing like that. The photos shown looked sleek. Shadowy. Elegant. Velvet textures, mood-lighting, and high-thread-count sheets.

It looked more like a designer spa than something so…provocative. And the reviews were nearly flawless. Every word hinted at luxury, discretion, and absolute comfort.

There was one that stood out to you.

La Madrugada:

A private luxury hotel for couples seeking indulgent intimacy. Soundproofed suites. Mood-custom lighting. Silk bedding. All with absolute privacy and five-star discretion.

The description alone made your face warm. You couldn’t tell if you were flustered or intrigued.

The idea of sharing a place like that with Miguel made your pulse quicken. You could already picture it, his voice low in the dim light, the weight of his touch, his eyes looking up at you between your legs.

Still, if you were going to suggest something like this, it had to meet his standards. Miguel wasn’t someone you could take just anywhere.

And this was exactly his kind of indulgence. Elegant. Private. Controlled. Exactly what he deserved. It checked all the relevant boxes. There was nothing to disturb you. No work, no missions, no worries of being interrupted.

It was a perfect getaway for your anniversary.

The house was still and quiet, with the only light illuminating swiftly from the kitchen and the hallway. It was well past midnight when Miguel finally arrived home. The door clicked open softly, and the familiar silence followed.

You could hear his footsteps as he made his way toward the bedroom, no doubt hoping to find you there. But when he found the room empty, he turned back to the hallway, calling out for you.

“In the kitchen,” you called back. A plate of crackers and hummus sat before you as you idly snacked.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later, standing there for a beat. His brows were furrowed in confusion, the weariness of the day evident in the slump of his shoulders and the tired gleam in his eyes. His hair was rumpled from countless times he’d run his hand through it.

“Hey,” you cooed, your gaze softened as you took in the sight of him. He looked exhausted, but still so striking.

“Hey…I thought you’d be in bed by now.” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t had the time to catch his breath.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So I gathered.”

“Have you eaten yet?” you asked. “I want to discuss something with you.”

“Yeah, I picked up a quick bite before I came home.” He paused, his gaze narrowing a bit and hesitated before he spoke again. “Is something wrong?”

You gestured to the chair beside you. “Come, take a seat.”

He stepped forward, still looking slightly puzzled, and slid into the chair you pulled out for him. You offered him a cracker, and he took it, fingers brushing lightly against yours. There was a quiet tension in the air, a shift from the casual snacking to something more.

His eyes flickered between the plate of crackers and you, waiting for you to speak.

“So,” you began, taking a deep breath. “About our anniversary.”

Miguel leaned back against the chair, the tired lines on his face tightening as he focused. “Right, the anniversary…what about it?”

“Well, I think I found something.” You turned the laptop toward him, the soft glow of the screen casting a subtle light across the table and bounced off his eyes.

The screen displayed the homepage of the hotel’s website. A few images of the rooms and the navigation bar on the top. You watched his face closely, trying to read his thoughts. But his expression gave nothing away.

The moment you came across this place earlier, you hadn’t stopped thinking about it. The idea buzzed in you like static electricity. And now, with Miguel in front of you, the anticipation was too much. You couldn’t tell if he was intrigued or skeptical— or both. The silence stretched, saved by him tapping his fingers on the table.

Your pulse throbbed— part of you hoping he’d say yes, the other bracing for a no. You didn’t want to get your hopes up too soon.

“This is…definitely not what I expected to see,” he said at last, his tone still unreadable. “When you said you found something, I figured maybe a dinner reservation. I didn’t think you’d be looking at hotels. Looks fancy, though.”

Oh, another dinner? How… modest.

You bit back your disappointment, unsure where he stood. Was the hotel too far off from what he imagined? Would he even be open to the idea?

“It actually took a lot of filtering and narrowing down,” you said, a hint of pride in your tone. “I didn’t find it right away. I came across it through some random blog article.”

His mouth twitched in the beginning of a smile, a low chuckled rumbled from his throat. “Oh really? So you stumbled upon it?”

“Something like that.” You laughed. “I just didn’t want another dinner date this year.”

Miguel nodded slowly, taking another bite from his cracker— either he was delaying his response or he was using this time to think.

“I get that. But…a private hotel? It’s definitely bolder than a dinner date.” He looked back at the screen, scanning the page again. “It’s definitely a new territory for us.”

“I think it’s worth a shot,” you said softly, trying to sound enthusiastic without coaxing him too much. “Unless you want me to look for something else.”

“No, no, I’m not against it. It’s just something new.”

You still felt mixed signals from him. His words didn’t give you a firm answer, but at least he wasn’t rejecting the idea.

“Yeah…and uh it’s not a usual hotel either,” you added cautiously. Maybe saying it out loud would give you a clearer read on how he felt.

Miguel seemed intrigued. Brows lifted— one of those looks that meant he was going to dig deeper. “What do you mean by that?”

“Scroll down. The description’s specific.”

Miguel’s eyes skimmed down the page. He scanned the detailed description, reading the fine details of each room and what was offered.

He looked back at you, his voice carried a low hum of amusement— and something else. “So…you’re suggesting that we…”

“Uh huh.” You tried not to fidget under his sudden bedroom eyes. “So, what do you say?”

He paused, clearly mulling over the idea once more before he answered. “I say… I’m in. Let’s do it.”

Relief swept through you like cool water, washing the tension clean from your chest. A grin bloomed across your face, followed by a breathy laugh. You leaned in and kissed him, warmth rushing to your cheeks.

Miguel kissed back without hesitation, and you could feel the slight smile curving beneath his lips.

But after a moment, he pulled away, his expression shifting to something more serious.

“We should set some ground rules, first,” he said, tone steady. “Obviously we both want this, but I want us to be on the same wavelength. No assumptions, no pressure.”

You nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

You both leaned in, letting the conversation unfold in hushed tones. You touched on hard limits, things you wanted to try together. No judgement. No rush. You even brought up using a safe word.

Throughout it all, communication and consent remained a foundation. And there was something in Miguel’s tone, his attentiveness, that echoed leadership— measured and intentional. Like every word carried a purpose.

But the time the details were sorted, your heart felt steadier. Grounded. And a little more in love.

“So, let’s go through the hotel's information page and book it tonight,” you said, holding his gaze.

“Sounds like a plan. I want this to be something to remember.”

Miguel leaned closer, scrolling through the rest of the site while you sat shoulder to shoulder. The deeper you went, the more the hotel revealed— the sultry description and indulgent amenities designed with adult privacy in mind.

Then came the curated experiences: pre-arranged fantasy packages, role play set ups, blindfolds, rope works. You weren’t sure if it was the description or the photo, but your cheeks grew warmer just imagining it— and what it might look like with Miguel.

A little thrill zipped through your stomach, a mix of both nerves and excitement.

Once everything looked good, Miguel booked the dates. Check-in Friday evening, check-out Sunday. Two nights tucked away from the world— and maybe a few inhibitions.

You closed your laptop with a satisfied breath and you both headed to bed. Just as the bedroom lights dimmed, LYLA’s golden avatar blinked to life on Miguel’s shoulder, her glow soft but unmistakably smug.

“So… should I start syncing calendar alerts for this intimate expedition?” she chirped, already projecting a calendar menu mid-air.

Miguel groaned, teeth flashing in annoyance. The glow lit his crimson eyes in a flicker of irritation.

“Were you listening this whole time?” he grumbled.

“Miguel,” she sighed, mockingly patient. “I live in your watch. Privacy is a fantasy. Much like the weekend you two just planned.”

He stared at her flatly.

“Set the damn reminder.”

With a sparkle of data, the calendar updated. Miguel collapsed into bed beside you, muttering under his breath before you both fell asleep.

The night after you booked the hotel, you did everything you could to prepare for the weekend. Your bags were packed, and you even helped Miguel with his. Now a travel bag sat quietly in the corner of your room, waiting for the day you left.

You wanted to go the extra mile— researching, planning little details. You ordered a bottle of body oil, just in case there was time for back massages or something slow. Something intimate.

Then came the outfits. You already had your clothes and toiletries tucked away neatly, but this was something different. Something just for him.

You scrolled through the endless collections of lingerie, each one more daring than the last. Silks, lace, mesh. Straps and cutouts. They looked effortless on the models— women of all sizes and shapes, each flowing with confidence. Some pieces looked like they were meant to last all of five minutes before being stripped off.

You weren’t sure how something like this would look on you— you’d never worn anything like it, never thought about yourself that way. But… maybe it was time.

You ordered a handful of sets, each one in different styles and colours— something soft, something bold, something barely there. You wanted to have options and surprise him. You just hoped you’d feel good wearing them, just as the models did.

A few days later, they arrived in sleek black boxes, each set folded delicately in tissue paper. The logo was embossed in pink cursive, paired with a silhouette of a woman who almost looked too sure of herself.

You’ve opened many packages in the past, but none of them made your stomach feel so airy. Like your body couldn’t decide if it wanted to be excited or afraid.

The tissue paper crinkled as you peeled it open, the sound strangely loud in a quiet room. It was like the box itself was watching you, whispering something unspoken.

You laid the sets out across the bed one by one. Each piece— soft lace, silk ties, daring cuts— looked expensive in a way that felt unreal. They were beautiful. And they were all yours.

Still, you hesitated.

Until you finally picked one.

A deep plum babydoll— a short flowy nightie, with a sheer skirt that brushed the top of your thighs. It came with a matching thong, still modest in comparison to the other sets. You had chosen it first for a reason.

You undressed slowly, the cool air brushing your skin as you slipped on the babydoll. The silk glided down your body like water. The lace on the hem was delicate, brushing lightly with each step.

When you turned to the mirror, you stilled.

It wasn’t bad. In fact, the colour flattered you. The shape was gentle and safe. It covered your midsection and maybe that was why you couldn’t quite pinpoint how to feel.

It looked… better than you thought. Not seductive. Not glamorous. Just you, trying.

Yet, you didn’t feel the spark you thought you would either. Still, it was something. And it was a start. You still had a few more sets to try on.

You picked up the teal-coloured teddy and stepped into it slowly. Unlike the babydoll, this one was lace all the way. Sheer, delicate, and backless. Designed to trace your body’s curves with little room to hide.

The place felt beautiful in your hands, but different on your skin. It wasn’t rough exactly, but textured— enough to remind you with every shift that it was there.

You shifted your hips slightly. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant, but it lacked the soft comfort of the babydoll. This wasn’t meant to be worn for comfort. This was meant to be for the visuals, admired before stripping it away.

But when you looked back in the mirror again, the flicker of excitement that had lit you up earlier dimmed rapidly.

The lingerie clung where you didn’t want it to. It exposed more than you expected— skin, softness, scars you had forgotten about.

You adjusted the steps, tugging gently at the fabric near your waist, tried standing at an angle. But nothing felt right. But no matter what you did, the image in the mirror didn’t match the fantasy you’d held in your mind.

You hugged your arms across your midsection instinctively, suddenly feeling far more aware of the dim light in the room.

There were still other sets laid out neatly on the bed— lace bras, matching panties, a crimson one-piece trimmed in satin that matched Miguel’s eyes. All of them, waiting for their moment. But now, you weren’t so sure you wanted that moment at all. You couldn’t imagine slipping into another.

You peeled the teddy off and folded it neatly, as if returning it to its box might erase the sinking feeling in your gut— and it did a fraction.

You told yourself that maybe it wasn’t the right one for you. Or maybe it was your cycle— your hormones, your body shifting. That happens, right? There were a dozen reasons why you might be feeling this way.

Then a dark thought edged its way to the forefront of your mind. What if Miguel saw you like this… and felt nothing? What if it didn’t have the effect you hoped for?

You blinked quickly, fighting the sting behind your eyes. You didn’t want to cry. Not when your anniversary was so soon. But something inside you had dimmed, like someone had slowly turned down the light switch.

You packed away the rest of the lingerie in silence and tugged on a sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. Maybe the warmth of something familiar might settle your thoughts.

The night slowly simmered into a quiet bliss, the soft clinking of dishes echoing as you cleaned up after dinner before drying your hands on a dish towel. Your weekend anniversary was getting closer.

Part of you almost wanted time to slow down— especially after the day you tried on the lingerie.

You weren’t the type to let things get to your head, especially something as fickle as body image. Still, the doubt remained, heavy and stubborn. You tried convincing yourself that it was just hormones and it would pass by the weekend.

Miguel had already moved to the living room, settling on the couch with the golden glow of his tablet reflecting faintly off the lenses of his glasses.

You, on the other hand, hovered in the kitchen for a moment. Fingered gripping the edge of the counter. The warmth of dinner faded, but now a different kind of heat rose in your chest.

Despite how you’d felt in the lingerie, you figured maybe getting closer to Miguel might help. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Tonight felt like a chance to rekindle that intimacy.

You passed over to the living room in your socks, quietly sliding beside him on the couch. Miguel barely looked up, his brows furrowed and eyes flickering over whatever was on the screen. LYLA hovered nearby in the corner of your eye.

“What are you looking at?” you purred softly, voice low and curious.

Miguel’s eyes landed on yours briefly, then quickly back on the screen. You could see the tiredness behind them, even if he chose to ignore it.

“Just catching up. Debrief came in late,” he murmured.

You knew he’d probably rather be in bed, so you tried to coax him there. Gently. Carefully.

You started off subtle, leaning closer until your shoulders pressed against his, your fingers traced along the soft fabric of his sleeves. A quiet invitation.

Miguel barely reacted, still engrossed in what he was looking at. His hand found your thigh in a vague, familiar pat— but it still didn’t feel like he was present. His mind was still elsewhere, probably in the mission files or whatever HQ spat out.

For a moment, it felt like he forgot you were even there.

“How long will it take?” you asked, quieter this time.

Finally he lowered the tablet a little, blinking as if remembering your existence. “Not too long. Maybe an hour or so… sorry, amor. I just need to finish this up and I’ll be all yours.”

You leaned in again, lips brushing the side of his neck— a spot you knew always got a reaction out of him. Your breath hovered, delicate and teasing, just above his pulse.

“Aren’t you tired?” you whispered. “Maybe you should come and rest.”

One of your hands slid to his thigh, thumb tracing low circles.

Miguel’s focus wavered— just for a second— but his eyes didn’t leave the screen.

“Not now,” he said, a little too fast. A little too sharply. “Just give me a few minutes… I need to finish this.”

His hand lifted, palm halfway between you almost like a barrier— a wordless signal. Not a shove but still halting you.

You pulled back stiffly, like you’ve been burnt. The heat in your chest returned, but not the kind you’d hope for. This heat twisted and crawled under your skin.

Miguel didn’t seem to notice your distress.

Your swallowed thickly and looked away, shifting slightly to the side of the couch to give him space— space he didn’t even ask for but you kept your distance anyways.

Maybe you’ve misread him. Maybe he was tired. Or not in the mood.

But even then, he would at least kiss your temple, or pull you to his side, even when he was distracted. Tonight was just a pat on your thigh. A gesture that said you’re here, but not I want you here

The buzz you felt earlier— hopeful, romantic, and daring— was replaced by an uncomfortable churn in your stomach. Your libido was gone, crushed under the weight of a single glance and a half-hearted touch.

Maybe it wasn’t the lingerie that didn’t look right. Maybe it was you.

You thought back to the fabric clinging where you didn’t want it to. The way your reflection didn’t match the fantasy and felt more like a joke you weren’t in on.

Maybe it was a mercy he didn’t see you in them. You didn’t think you could stomach the same indifference in his eyes. Not then.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing lightly at the fabric of your sleeves. The silence stretched— thick and uncomfortable— settling between you like a fog that wouldn’t lift.

You don’t try again. You didn’t want to beg for his attention. The warmth between you cooled by the second, until another voice cuts in, crisp and far too observant.

“You okay over there?”

You blinked “Huh?”

LYLA hovered in your peripheral vision. Her tone was casual, but her eyes— pixelated and perspective— scanned your face.

“You’re usually less… radio silent when he’s being oblivious.” She looked back at Miguel and tilted her head.

Miguel’s head snapped up, brows pulling together. “What?”

You tried to summon a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s nothing…I just thought maybe we could… unwind a little together.” You hesitated, the words felt clumsy on your tongue. “…Never mind.”

Saying it out loud made it sound foolish. Like you’d misread everything.

Miguel stared at you for a second longer, sensing something, but not quite putting the pieces together. You didn’t know why you felt so small under his gaze. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t cold. But somehow, you still felt like a burden.

“We’ve got the whole weekend,” he said instead, like it was a compromise. “Let’s just get through this part.”

That stung more than it should have, like your needs were something to be scheduled around.

The weekend no longer carried the same thrill it did the night you booked the rooms together. Now the idea felt…hollow.

LYLA cuts in again, voice clipped. “Someone’s gotta read the room better.” She turned to Miguel, her digital face showing her disapproval. “You really want to go into this weekend with a vibe like this?”

Miguel’s face tightened, his patience was slowly thinning. “LYLA, now is not the time.”

“Oh really?” she shot back. “Because you seemed to be making plenty of time for work.”

“I’m gonna go shower.” You stood abruptly. The energy in the room was suddenly too much. You didn’t wait for a reply before you headed out.

You closed the bathroom door gently behind you, not trusting yourself to slam it. The mirror reflected you in a faint, silver-blue light, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look directly into it.

Your heart lodged somewhere between embarrassment and disappointment as you recalled the exchange that happened just earlier. His voice. His eyes on her tablet. The gentle push of his hand— soft, but still a rejection.

We’ve got the whole weekend.

And yet right now, you felt like you were already spending it alone.

Part two of this will be coming soon. Don’t ask when though pls…

#blue’s recs 🫀#blue’s lab moots 🤖#❤︎ scientists husband ❤︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #i was so locked in the ending author note brought me out a trance #AYRUS THEE WRITER SHINING LIKE ALWAYS #ugh #i love the overworking husband that doesn’t realize his wife needs him trope #because like yo…your hot wife is asking for you and you’re looking at 1s and 0s #WAKE UP BONEHEAD #but also this is very raw and real #a very solemn? representation of how marriage can be #(not that I would know)#wondering if you’re enough or being nervous about the little things #so it weighs on me heavily i think #i’m excited for the next part :3 #AND ALWAYS EXCITED TO READ AN AYRUS ORIGINAL

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