#Vampire Miguel

[phyrestartr]

Vampire | Miguel x M!Reader

Vampire!Miguel x Reader W/C: 5.9k

#NSFW, vampires, blood, gore, violence, bottom!reader, top!Miguel, mentions of sex work, mentions of assault, it's kinda cute idk, posessive behaviour, questionable relationship, reader is morally grey, reader is lowkey a criminal though lol, Johnny Blaze = Nic Cage 5ever sorry not sorry

Note: I FINISHED IT! Lost steam with editing so some bits may be kinda weird and word-y, but I really enjoyed writing this honestly :clap: ty guys for voting for me to finish this o(--( I actually finished it so quickly wtf--

--

Vampires. Blood-sucking, man-killing, devil-calling creatures. Many feared them, even now, even after the legends of Dracula faded into obscurity and out of the minds of mortal men. But there were some who kept weary watch on the old castle looming before your meager town: older folks, the ones with bleached scars and haunted voices, with quivering hands and a phobia of the dark. 

You thought they all spun tales, convinced themselves of a time that never happened thanks to whatever their parents hushedly told them come the waning of the sun. “Don't leave the house after dark,” “be wary of the man you know not,” “pray to God for his protection,” is what you figured they'd been told. You couldn't blame them. Not really. Mass hysteria, mass lies told to the young had a penchant for warping their minds, destroying their futures. 

But still, you'd listen. Face alight with a smile, one ear turned their way as you poured drinks for whatever patron came bumbling your way that night. There was one man, one who claimed to have been touched by the devil himself, momentarily transformed into something wicked and unholy, who frequented the establishment. 

“Come on now, Johnny,” you chided with a laugh, “you don't really believe all that rubbish. Touched by the devil? You Americans really are the dramatic sort, aren't you?” 

“You don't need to believe all of it,” Johnny said mildly. “You just need to believe a sliver of it. It'll do you some good. Keep you safe.” 

You smiled to yourself as you busily made a drink for a new customer. “Yeah? Keep me safe from what, exactly?” Your eyes met his, then, and you found your blood stood in place for a moment. 

“You know what.” The devil. He'd said it too many times to count without uttering his name. “Just be smart.”

“I'm always smart,” you said with a phony laugh, the sort you used to lull women and men into some cheap sense of comfort. 

“Smart people do dumb things, too.” He took a swig of his drink before peering down at the amber pooling against crystal. “Like sneaking around old, unhallowed castles.” 

You pursed your lips. “I'm just curious, old man, you don't need to worry. I've not been inside, yeah? Just looked ‘round the outside of the old place.” That's probably filled with loads of goods. 

But Johnny only stared at you, calculating, thinking. It almost unnerved you. 

“Just be careful.” 

And in that moment, a man whose name you didn’t know, but whose body you knew too well, walked into the bar. His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall, and from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden away under the brim of that hat, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones. His eyes, a bizarre colour, always glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of, and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadow rolling off his strong neck. 

He didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t look away. Your gaze followed him to where he found a quiet seat off to the side by a small table. He wouldn’t order anything. He never did. He only ever waited for your shift to end. 

“Kid?” Johnny prodded, freeing you from your momentary curse.

You blinked and sputtered, nodding in earnest to whatever Johnny had said. “I–right. Careful. I’m always careful.” 

–

Just be careful.

But that was impossible with this otherworldly spirit around you, waiting for you every other night just for the sake of bedding you, and leaving before morning with nothing but a stack of bills (or sometimes some jewelry, if you were lucky) to remember him by. Your favourite client by far. Your only client, per his request.

Your fists twisted into the bedsheets as you gasped with every brutal crashing of the man’s hips against yours as he took you from behind. He was in a bad mood tonight, it seemed. Normally, he liked to take it slow, he liked to savour his meal, but for some reason–

His hand clasped over your mouth when his teeth tore into your neck again. The cry that left you was hoarse and tired, but not so surprised, no; the man had his kinks, and one just so happened to be biting. He did quite the number on you, too, always breaking skin and leaving scars and scabs in his wake. But it felt good. It felt right to be claimed. The greedy, ugly little part of your heart wanted people to know you were taken and owned by this strange, captivating man.

“Fuck, I–” You buried your face into the mattress as another orgasm hit, striking your dull nerves like hammer on hot iron thrust after thrust. Soon enough, you felt his body stutter against yours just before an uncanny, liquid gold filled your guts and seeped into your core–he was finally done. Finally. Though part of you wished it didn’t have to end. 

His teeth, the pointed, feral things, dislodged from your neck before he ran the flat of his tongue against the weeping wound. Somehow, that always staunched the bleeding. You didn’t quite understand it, but you weren’t exactly well-versed in medicine.

“Tired already?” He mocked in that smokey, American accent. “Thought the young had more than that to offer.” The purr of his voice soothed the pulsing start of a headache as you came down from your high. Yet another strange effect he had on you. 

You took a good handful of moments to catch your breath before you tried to hazard an answer. “I’m–you’re in some kind of mood, darling; can’t blame me for your brutality.” You turned your head to rest your cheek against the scratchy sheets, and the beast took the opportunity to leave nips and kisses along your jaw. 

“Tch. I’m just reminding you who you belong to. Where you belong.” Sharp teeth grazed your skin again, and you shuddered. “No one likes to see theirs fawning over another man.” 

You strained to look back at him. “You–you mean Johnny? He’s not–I wouldn’t let him bed me, are you mad?” A rough push of his hips against yours reprimanded you. “H-He’s a mate, love, that’s all.”

The man twitched. “A mate?” 

“A friend, you bloody idiot.”

He relaxed, but still sought confirmation. “A friend.”

“A friend, indeed. Father-figure, maybe.” With a bit of effort, you managed to wriggle free from the strength of the man pinning you in place, and laid on your back to gaze up at him. “I’m not interested in him, he’s not interested in men, so you needn’t worry a thing.” One of your worn hands reached up and smoothed over the curve of his sharp cheekbone, drawing a pleased hum from the chamber of the beast’s chest. 

“Fine.” He rested his weight on you, and you sighed, content and warmed. But that bony chin digging into your chest was a tad bit fucking irritating. “Then if he’s not trying to fuck you, what makes you listen to him for hours on end, hm?” Hah. Annoyed. Jealous. Quite endearing. 

“He has stories to tell,” you offered. “Words about the devil and the curse of the undead. About Dracula and that old castle.” 

The man’s brows raised in interest. “Oh? And you like ghost stories, is that it? Here I figured I'd be enough to keep your mind entertained,” he said with a taunting smirk, like he thought your suggested belief in those spooky tales was laughable. 

Heat washed over your face. “I–you–shut up, I just like me a good story, is that so wrong? Tch, stupid American.”

He laughed, a sound you adored to hell and back. “I’ll keep it in mind. Might have a few good stories up my sleeve, too.” His head tilted the slightest bit. “Maybe then your eyes won’t wander.”

“Terribly jealous one, aren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it.” You raked your hands through his hair and he sighed, deep and ancient. But your words were true–this man, your mysterious client-turned-lover, he captivated all wherever he traveled. With so many eyes on him, why did he want you to look nowhere else but to him? 

Greedy man. That’s what you decided. He wanted everything and more. 

“Other men don't get to look at what's mine,” he mumbled after a time of you pampering him with pets and scritches. “And you're mine, for the record.” 

“Hm. I quite like the sound of that.” 

“Then marry me.” 

“I'm not sure I can,” you lamented. “I find myself in trouble too often. It puts me on the run, jumping from town to city and back again.” 

“You'd never have to run again if you let me have you.” He picked himself up and loomed over you, brushing his nose against yours as he spoke against your lips. “You'd be safe, cared for, never want for anything. None of those sacks of shit would would lay a finger on you again.” His lips trailed down, brushing against the thick vein in your neck. “I think it's for the best if you agree.” 

You almost argued back, but the large hand engulfing your throat gave you pause. He didn't hurt you, no, but gave you a silent warning. The power that man held over you contradicted his weakness to your wants and desires, and twisted your thoughts into unorganized knots. 

“I'll think on it,” you breathed, not wanting to say yes but unwilling to say no. You didn't want marriage, but commitment was a tantalizing idea. You'd just never thought it'd happen to you. 

His eyes came back to yours again. Your heart fluttered at the glints of carmine shimmering in candle-lit eyes. God, he was beautiful. 

“I better like your answer.” 

–

You left. You hated doing it, you hated running from your problems and whatever seemed to haunt you day to day, but too much happened in too short a time. 

For one, the landlord demanded more and more rent money from you when he noticed your gifted jewelry and newly tailored coat, and then, when you didn't give it to him, he took to trying to get payment another way. You shot him, obviously. 

Which led to your second reason for leaving–you'd shot a man and fled the scene, unknowing if he was alive or not, and uncaring of the outcome, quite frankly. You figured the lowlife would be more pressed about the money than dying, anyway. 

And third, the bar you worked at found out you'd been swindling and stealing on the job, pocketing tips and taking home near-empty bottles to refill with something of your own design to sell on the streets. Admittedly, it was fine work, but you'd long abandoned that method of money-making once that stranger wandered into your life and offered you more cash than you could imagine.

But you liked that bar. You liked those patrons. No strings attached.

And that's why you were back. Not with the intention to stay, no; you were back to scout out the castle after getting confirmation from some university lads about how valuable the old place was. You figured you could find enough in there with the scoundrels you'd come with, and maybe you could pay the old owner back before leaving for good. 

You'd never have to run again if you'd let me have you. 

Maybe you should've just said yes.

– 

The castle stood beautifully, even with the screams of the slaughtered ringing through the halls. It was big, too, eagerly letting you get lost in its enchanting halls and inviting rooms as you tried in vain to remember the way out. 

That's when you crashed into one of the uni snobs you'd come with, Harry. He was a mess, clothes and hair out of place for once, with a spray of sticky blood coating his face and white shirt. Osborn must've seen their tormentor. 

He grabbed your shoulders as you grabbed his arms. “We have to go, we have to go–” he chanted, pulling and pushing you in undecided directions. 

“Osborn, where did you see it? Where–” Another scream gave you a hint. Your eyes snapped down the hallway, staring deep into the torchlit halls and finding nothing but the unknown staring back. 

Then, there were footsteps. Slow, methodical things that rung to a tune hidden in your memories.

“We have to go,” you whispered, like that'd help. “Osborn, we have to–” a splitting pain electrocuted your senses and sent you stumbling backwards. The world spun. Your head ached. Funeral bells shrieked. Worst of all, that dress shirt and that fancy jacket you loved so much were stained suddenly, a foul colour of darkness that reeked of pennies and iron. It took you too long to look back to the student, and to see the smoking pistol held out in his shaky hand. 

“I had to,” Osborn whispered, so, so haunted. “I had to. You understand.” And quite frankly, you did understand; wounding a lamb to leave behind for a wolf to indulge in was a sure way to let a farmer escape. 

Harry took off. You grasped your stomach and leaned hard against the wall, trying to pull yourself together to make some kind of run for it before those languid steps found you and cut your story short. But you felt so tired, so dizzy. The red weeping under your hand and the bewildered pants leaving you left you colder and colder. You wondered if Osborn had shot himself in the foot with this one (hah), killing the sacrificial lamb, rendering it useless to what was believed to be a vampire of all things. They devoured the living, not the dead. 

Clack, clack, clack. The haunting echo of fine shoes on wooden slats passed you by, then vanished all together. You collapsed to your knees and heaved in the burning air just as a deafening screech ricocheted through the halls with the echo of frantic gunfire, and the slosh of viscera. You fought back the burn of bile in your throat when you braved a look; there laid a body on the floor, and a corpse standing above it, illuminated just barely by torchlight. 

His shoulders were impossibly broad, his frame unnaturally tall–

“We could have avoided all of this,” the creature growled. 

–from the glimpses you were allowed of his face hidden in the swath of darkness around him, you remembered strong lines and proud cheekbones–

“But you didn’t listen.”

–his eyes, a bizarre colour, glimmered ruby in the firelight thanks to some strange disease you never quite remembered the name of– 

“Why couldn’t you just listen?”

–and his hair, a dark oaken hue, wisped like tendrils of shadows rolling off his strong neck.

He appeared beside you so suddenly, so soundlessly, you wouldn’t have known he approached if it weren’t for the strength of your fluttering eyelids seeking the truth. You stared hard at the tips of his leather shoes. Perhaps you should’ve known it was him all along. Perhaps you had known. 

He knelt before you and forced your chin up, making your eyes meet his as he stared down through you. Blood marred his face, matching the wine-red hue of his furious, gem-cut eyes; even like this, teeth bared, about to kill you, he was beautiful. 

“Look what you’ve done. This is your fault–”

But that beauty was wasted on such a foul-mouthed monster. 

“My fault?” You spat. “Fuck you.” You tore your chin from his grip, but his hand sought out your throat instead. “Don’t fucking touch me–”

He smiled, bitter but so wholly and infuriatingly amused before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do whatever I want with you.” And before you could lash out, before you could throw a fist at his stupid face, he yanked you in and bit.

A winter breeze rippled through you. Cold. Piercing. And you gradually froze like water dripping from the gutters, no longer able to fight back, too sluggishly slow to do anything about your fate. You breathed hard, feeling the hole in your stomach and ache of your heart weep and worsen with every shattering breath you took. Your hands, gentle in their weakness, pawed at his chest and sought a spot to dig in and hold on to for dear life as the waking world turned its back to you.

But despite the bitterness, and despite words exchanged, he held the side of your face as you faded in and out of consciousness. He called something, and a flurry of orange wisps appeared above you. 

–

You awoke to the echoes of a dream, one you hadn’t had for a while. A cloudless night where you’d been caught in bed by a taken woman’s man and beaten half to death; in return, you shredded through the man's chest with a knife from the kitchen while the wife watched on in silence. You'd been ready to kill her, too, slit her throat in one easy motion, but she never screamed, never looked at the wild animal with fear. 

Tell the police he attacked you, miss. 

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

You fumbled through the alleys after leaving the scene, but others, foul things that roamed the streets where not even rats lingered, found you, threatened to use up the last of what you had to offer this pitiful world. It seemed as though they disappeared in the time it took you to blink, though, and a man was left, standing in their wake. He looked somewhat disheveled, like he’d just finished some grand task, but he was just so put together, too. You struggled to make sense of it, but you didn’t really care to. 

“Well, isn't that impressive,” you said with a breathless laugh. “Not a shred of blood on you. Are you the ripper the paper’s gone on and on about?”

The being glanced over his shoulder, eyes alight in curious mirth. He turned your way and stepped closer. You saw it then, the slightest bit of dark smears on his face.

“Is that what they're calling me?” He adjusted his cuffs, and rolled his shoulders. “Huh.” 

Adrenaline poured into your heart. “You're quite the dangerous man, aren't you, sir?” you swallowed thickly as you looked him over: fine shoes, expensive coat, luxurious rings. “And, ah, well-off. You wouldn't happen to be interested in spreading the wealth, hm?” 

His hand cupped your jaw, sticky with freezing blood, and he leaned in. The pungent scent of iron curled your gut as he breathed you in, making up his mind with what to do with you. Then, with the dry, warm back of his gloved hand, he caressed the side of your face and watched your eyelids flutter, devouring the simple gesture. 

“Let's see if you can convince me to.”

-

“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

Curiosity willed your eyes open, and you gazed down at the hollow tube connecting you to the walking corpse. You fought to ease the jump of your heart, but it became impossible when a dark red raced from the vampire's arm down into yours. 

“Is that going to make me like you?” You whispered, nerves twitching and burning with the bite of restless fire ants. 

Crimson eyes found yours and looked deep. “It won't. You can relax.” But you weren't convinced, and your lover could tell. “You'd have to drink my blood.” 

“Why're you giving me your blood, then?” 

“You'll die without it.” He pumped something, you now noticed, and realized it was what drew the blood from his veins and drained it into yours. 

Curious. “Were you a man of medicine?” 

He scoffed. “Still am.” He threw you a wary look, one brow raised. “How many more questions are you–” 

“Your name?” That was something you'd requested before, but always through a veil of uncertainty. You didn't like to ask much of him. He didn't ask much of you. But you didn't know him, yet he knew you. 

Your vampire frowned, unapproving. “What difference will it make?” 

“You asked me to fucking marry you,” you bit out. “And yet you keep so many secrets from me, still. I've given you more than I have, and you can't even–” 

“Miguel.” You both paused–him to gauge your reaction, and you out of shock. “Miguel O'hara.” 

The cracks in your chest mended, just slightly. Miguel O'hara. What a name that was. Formidable and wholly suiting the beast of a man you'd known and craved for far too many years. 

“Miguel O'hara,” you whispered, staring tiredly at the red thread connecting the two of you. The name felt good on your tongue. 

Nothing more was said, then. He must've still felt the tension in the air, or maybe the coil of apprehension in your body, for he worked on in silence, quietly saving your life for no reason. 

It was when he pulled free the needle that you found the will to break the silence on your own. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” It came out a pathetic whisper, sounding as broken as your mind felt. 

He paused before pulling the needle from his own arm. “Tell you what?” 

It was a good question. You didn't know what to ask him to elaborate on. You didn't know if you wanted him to elaborate on anything, actually, because it'd make it too real, too tangible. 

“Everything.” And when he stayed silent, you narrowed it down to just, “all of…you.” 

Miguel licked his thumb and stroked it soothingly against the pinprick of a wound while his brows furrowed and his lips twisted into something of a frown. “How could I?” You both watched the tiny dot of red cease weeping. “If you'd moved on and you knew, it could put everything at risk.” 

If I'd moved on. It felt wrong. It felt uncomfortable to know he felt that somewhere between his ribs and his heart. And for how long? How long had he not trusted you? Did he even trust you in that moment, knowing what and who he truly was? Or were you now doomed to this castle just as he was? 

“I'll let you rest,” Miguel said as he clasped his medical case shut and stood. “Lyla'll bring you food.” 

Thump, thump, thump, echoed his footsteps, those fine shoes muffled by old carpet; but the sharp clack, clack, clack in the hollow echoes of your memories, just before the truth revealed itself to you, swallowed up your thoughts.

“(Name),” Miguel said, and your eyes opened to find the tall, proud back of his silhouette stood at the door, one hand clutching the knob. “Don’t leave this room.” 

And he left you there, heart aching, mind melting, soul shattering. 

–

Solitude reminded you of what else happened. The lads you'd come here with, nothing more than acquaintances, were missing, or perhaps dead. It ate at your mind. Could you have done something different? Could you have convinced him to let them go?

More importantly, would Miguel let you leave? He claimed he wanted to marry you, but words were just words if not put to use with actions. Staying by his side would mean stomaching the fact he'd consume countless other people, wouldn't it? How were you expected to watch your partner(?), your groom-to-be(?), hold and pierce others the way he promised to you and only you?

But could you let him stay here alone, hunted and hated by believers, laughed at by the average skeptic? If you were not here, how many more would walk in on a dare, and meet a terrible end? They didn’t matter, no, but the legend of a vampire would turn more and more true, summoning devil-hunters to his doorstep, stake and flames in-hand.

The thoughts plagued you, filling your head with the terrible buzzing of bees. You couldn't fathom why you cared so much; most of your life you'd lived for your own sake, doing what needed to be done to get by, to have a better tomorrow. You hated other people. A few of them you'd personally buried six feet under, whether they were dead or lived still, and you never batted an eye. You had no patience for those who'd oppose you. 

You would have killed Osborn yourself if O’hara hadn't. And that was the truth. That'd been the truth the whole time, ever since you saw just how expensively he and the others lived; gold dripped from their tongues, silver ran through their veins, diamonds fell from their eyes. You wanted to claim a bit of that for yourself. 

And Miguel had shared his wealth with you, just in exchange for a bit of blood and your body for the night. Surely you could look past what he did to survive, even if it put your heart into a spiral. 

Lost in thought, you found your way to his chambers, freely disobeying his orders

He lounged in a clawfoot bath. Stuffy heat lulled you into a daze, something like a carefree summer evening wherein the sun took too long to vanish. Though when he noticed you approach, shedding clothes the entire way, the heat grew near unbearable.

Miguel's claws creaked against the enamel in anticipation when you stepped into the water. You watched him with the same delicate intrigue as prey investigating something that could be a threat as you found your place between his spread legs, getting close enough to feel the pounding of his undead heart. You'd only seen his body in dim candlelight or withering rays of the moon, never truly illuminated by the glow of floating chandeliers nor the collection of sconces arching from the wall.

Slowly, your fingertips dragged along muscle, warm and firm under your calloused touch. The scars littering your hands and knuckles shone so stark against his perfect complexion. He really did seem too perfect. It would have sparked jealousy in your gut if he didn't apparently belong to you, and you to him. No one else got to touch. No one else got to see. 

Now, you were built finely yourself, but the man before you was something entirely different. You didn't know if it was thanks to his supernatural existence, but his body was built in a near-animalistic way that screamed power and speed, not similar enough to a human. Though, looking back, you did always think his manners in bed were more beast than man. The growling, the clawing, the marks of claim on the nape of your neck, it all clicked and made sense in the whirlwind of your mind. 

“I think a werewolf would suit you better,” you admitted. “What with the claws and biting and general uncouth behaviour.” 

Miguel huffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” His voice rang low and quiet, too aware he might scare off his prized hare if he put too much into his words. “You're the one acting like a rabid animal.” 

“No, you.” 

“Don't think so.” 

“You're difficult.” 

“You're one to talk.” 

“How long have you been like this?” Your fingers combed through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut. “A vampire. Or whatever you are.” 

“Lost track,” he said, sounding too honest. “I have records. Notes. From experiments. The dates on those are close to when it happened.” Experiments? Colour you intrigued.

“So you weren't exactly practicing white medicine?” You tilted your head in thought. “You were doing something more–” 

“It wasn't black magic,” Miguel scoffed. “It was science. Genetics. Studying how other organisms function, learning about them.” His expression darkened just the slightest bit. “Trying to…recreate them.” 

Your head spun a little trying to fill in the blanks. It wasn’t too hard, but it was hard to accept as reality. But if anyone were to unlock the damned secrets of immortality, of course it'd be this man. This cocky, genius, charming man. God really did have favourites, though they always did seem to disappoint him.

“I see. So you're telling me you're a genius who rebirthed vampires,” you summed up, letting your hands melt down his body, below the water's surface. “How is it you only get more and more impressive, Mr.O'hara?” 

A smug smirk bloomed across his lips. “It's just in my nature.” His head tilted back with a pleased sigh when your touch finally landed on that annoying thing prodding your thigh. “I have no choice but to succeed.” 

“Tch. Americans are so arrogant.” You hummed and leaned in, ghosting kisses along his vulnerable neck while your hand pleased him slowly, teasingly. His talons screeched against the tub again. “But maybe you have reason to be, hm? Given how accomplished you are.” 

A dark, scarlet haze like the sky of the blood moon illuminated Miguel's eyes in the few moments they slipped open to catch a glimpse of you. You wondered if he needed a reality check. Maybe he thought he was hallucinating, maybe he thought that you weren't really there despite being pressed up against him and murmuring useless quips into his skin. You'd be sure to leave an impression on him; your hand quickened, gripping tighter and pulling the way he directed you to far too many years ago, but his barbed hand caught your wrist. 

“Stop,” he gasped. His chest rose and fell with his light panting as he stared you down. Want radiated off of him like an animal starved. You knew what was rattling around in his mind before he even spoke. 

“You want to fuck me, is that it?” 

Miguel's breath hitched. 

–

You made him ravenous. You were the only thing he wanted to feast on, delicacies and sanguine temptations be damned. 

One of his large hands held your waist in a death grip while his other hand held your head down, forcing your incoherent ramblings into the soft, silken sheets as he rammed you from behind like a beast in heat. You took it well, too, not that you hadn't before–he always held back, appeared to you as human when he fucked you previously. But now that you knew the truth, now that you knew what lay hidden in the dark nooks of his bones’ marrow, he felt complete. And that meant he could completely lay claim to you, too. 

He matched the curve of your back with his chest when he leaned over you, burying his nose into your neck and shoulder to indulge in your scent. Your vampire's desire to breed slowed and steadied into deep, thoughtful rolls of his hips. Perhaps his mind had caught up with him and ushered him to slow down, to abandon some of that reckless excitement. 

Miguel heard the slightest mumble of his name on your lips and leaned down further to touch his own to your cheekbone. One arm looped underneath your throat in a benign chokehold of sorts, while his other hand threaded through your hair–if he wasn't fucking you like an animal before, this makeshift mating lock he had on you sealed the deal. 

“You feel good,” Miguel murmured, voice tickling the shell of your ear. 

“Hah. I, ah, always feel good,” you tried to quip back, but your expression betrayed the fraying threads of whatever self-control you still desperately clung to. “You’re, uh…unhinged, hey?” Miguel scoffed. “Like a…a wild beast.” 

“Oh?” A purr hummed through his chest, piercing your body and rattling through your own lungs in seismic pulses. “A wild beast? Flattering.”

“Really, darling, you don't have to be such a sarcastic asshole when you're–” a hard snap of his hips sent you spiraling for a moment, “--in my ass.” 

“Maybe you should watch your mouth,” he suggested. 

“Maybe you could watch it for me,” you countered. 

The warmth of his laugh sent chills scattering across your skin. He pulled out of you and turned you over, dragging your hips back against him before his powerful body engulfed yours again. Miguel liked this more. He liked the feeling of your hands grabbing and clawing at him, the way your thighs attached to his waist, how you bit your bottom lip while your eyes screwed shut from the overwhelming feeling of your partner destroying you.

And of course, his lips could meet yours like this. The sweet tang of copper and berries, a taste so familiar and so you, was shared between tongues, kept secret in the crevices of teeth. It amazed Miguel how much one little kiss could push him over the edge and make the bed creak and groan with you as he loved on you and made sure to send the message straight to your core. 

Your hands fisted in his hair when you came undone. That lovely voice of yours poured into Miguel's eager mouth, and you tightened, pulling him to the edge and pushing him over with the might of a wild stampede. Claws nipped your skin, fangs pierced deeper, yet his rutting hit deepest, and burned you alive with unbearable, liquid heat.

–

“Why me?” You asked into the stillness of the room. 

Calm silence answered you for a long moment. The sun bloomed beyond the thick curtains, you noticed in your wait, and you wondered if you would ever miss the sight. England never truly had bright, sunny days from what you recalled; stretches of smokey, grey overcast clouded the skies and your memories more often than not. Could your vampire walk amongst the living like this?

Miguel sighed, leaning into the hand carding through his hair. “Figured you’d understand.” 

“I’d understand what?”

“Killing to survive.” 

“How long have you known?” You wondered, unsurprised. 

“Blood tells stories,” he whispered. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered a moment before crimson eyes peered open the slightest bit. “Your story’s long. Complicated. You’re too young for it.” 

A smile twitched onto your face. You adjusted in the bed, getting more comfortable on your side in those pooling, satin sheets. “So you thought I’d be an easy target for sex, then? Desperate and young as I was.”

He found your eyes, his gaze earnest and bleeding. “I–you–fine, at first it was like you said. Maybe. But after enough time, I decided you weren’t like the rest. You’re as supernatural as I am.”

“Supernaturally handsome? I agree.”

“Stop.”

“You didn’t think I’d be afraid of you.”

“I’d hoped as much.” 

“And you still didn’t tell me.” Your fingertips danced along the arch of his cheekbone, leaving pleasant sparks against his skin in their wake, unbeknownst to you. “Were you scared?”

“I’d rather have you as a man for whatever time we had together than to lose you to a beast,” he explained, cryptic as one would expect an old legend to be. “I’ve lost too much already because of…this. Because of me. I didn’t want to lose more.” Miguel’s dark brows furrowed. “If you ended up fearing me to, I–”

You silenced him with a hand over his mouth. “Enough. I understand.” You palm smoothed back up to cup his face. “You needn’t be afraid of me–well, being afraid, I suppose. I’ll stay.” You took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “This bed’s too comfortable to give up, after all.”

His breath fanned against your skin as he chuckled, tired and perhaps tinted with disbelief. “Well, you can stay here as long as you want.”

“Brilliant. Would you even let me drink your blood?”

The rumble of a growl, or perhaps a purr, rolled through his chest into yours. You searched his eyes, wondering, hoping, and found mere slices of ruby peeking out from behind eclipsing pupils. 

“We’ll see.”

[atlasscrumpit]

🔞Vampire Miguel x reader🔞

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, ABUSE, CNC, BLOOD AND OTHER TRIGGERING SUBJECTS

Maybe it was sick and a little twisted, actually it definitely was very twisted.

But, you made the perfect couple. You craved pain and scars and Miguel craved to cause pain.

He loved seeing you covered in bruises and wounds caused by him, he liked to imagine you were his perfect canvas.

Every night carefully painting you in new scars and hearing your beautiful cries of pain.

He woke up in the morning, pulling the blanket back from you to see a bruise on your hip in the shape of his hands. He smiled and gently ran his finger over the new bruise. You slowly woke up and turned around to face Miguel.

“Good morning.” You muttered tiredly as he leant in and kissed you softly.

“You look so beautiful this morning.” He whispered as you smiled and kissed him again.

“Stay here and I’ll get you some breakfast.” He said before climbing out of bed.

You watched him leave and slowly stretched in bed.

After a while he returned with a cup of coffee and some breakfast. He placed it on the table beside you before getting into bed again.

While you sipped your coffee Miguel started to kiss your neck softly.

“Once you’re done with you’re breakfast I’ll have mine.” He said nuzzling into your neck making you chuckle softly.

While you ate breakfast he continued to kiss and suck the skin on your sensitive neck.

You knew he must be hungry but he alway made sure you ate first before he fed off you.

Once you were finished he sighed in relief and sat against the headboard, patting his lap. He didn’t need to use words anymore, you were used to the routine. You straddled his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck before he moved the hair away from your neck.

You tilted your neck to the side and he gripped you hair roughly before plunging his teeth into your neck. You gasped in pain but couldn’t help but moan, the pain making your body react in pleasure.

He gripped your hips and you felt his claws starting to piece your skin.

You cried out in pain, only making Miguel even hungrier as he drank your blood. His claws deep in your skin, stopping you from moving an inch.

He finally pulled away and looked at you while you sobbed, he looked at you hungrily and retracted his claws as he smiled watching you cry.

“That’s it, my sweet pet. It’s too much to handle isn’t it? Is it too much for my porcelain doll to handle?” He taunted as you cried even more, but he knew how much you loved it.

“And let me guess, princess. Are you getting off on this, huh? Don’t lie to me.” He asked, brushing a piece of hair out of your face as you looked at him and nodded.

He chuckled and took in your beautiful form, his large shirt draped over your body, blood on your hips and neck from him, your mouth slightly hung open while you cried.

He moved you a little so you were only straddling one of his thighs.

“Then go on, be a pathetic little girl for me.” He whispered as you looked at him and bit your lip. You started slowly grinding on his large thigh as you whined a little.

“Look at you, I can feel how wet you are. You’re such a disgusting little creature, aren’t you?” He taunted as you covered your mouth and continued grinding on his thigh.

“God, look at you. Maybe I should turn you, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful at this age, I should keep you like this forever. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Eternity being my good little girl.” He growled as he pressed his palm against his crotch and groaned lowly.

“Fuck, stop.” He demanded as you immediately stopped grinding. He grabbed you and pinned you onto the bed and began kissing over the wound on your neck. He stripped your panties off but kept you in his shirt that you were wearing.

He brought his sweatpants down and then his boxers, letting his hard cock free as he looked down at you.

“Miguel, please.” You whispered as Miguel looked down at you and smiled. He stood up off the bed and roughly pulled you towards him by your legs. He forced your ankles onto his shoulders before digging his claws into your thigh and guiding himself inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re such a disgusting little beast.” He growled as he gripped both of your thighs and began pounding into you, making you cry out.

Miguel adored watching your face while he fucked you, you would be completely lost in pain and pleasure while his claws drew blood from your thighs.

“That’s it, my pathetic girl. No one wanted you did they? So fucking desperate for me to take you, you begged on your fucking knees to be my pet.” He taunted as you gripped the bed sheets and cried.

“No…” You muttered as Miguel chuckled.

“No? That’s all you have, little human? Can’t even fucking fight against me, can you?” He growled as he reached forward and gripped your throat, you looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

He looked at you and felt himself getting closer just from watching you try to fight for air.

“That’s it, baby.” He muttered as he threw his head back and went back to gripping both of your thighs, he thrust into one last time and felt himself cum inside on you as he heard you gasp for air.

Once he was done he looked down at you and slowly pulled out before climbing on top of you and kissed you. He reached down and started rubbing your clit as you moaned and arched your back.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it? Blood dripping down your legs while my cum drips out of you. My pathetic little girl is going to cum, isn’t she?” He whispered as you kept your eyes on his.

“Yes, yes… please, don’t stop.” You cried out as he laughed and felt your legs starting to shake.

“Need to…” You muttered as he chuckled and kissed you.

“Go ahead.” He whispered, he leant forward and kissed you roughly, muffling your loud moans as he rubbed you through your climax.

Once you had climaxed he slowly took his hand away and began kissing all over your face.

“Perfect, such a good girl. Deep breaths, my love.” He whispered as you watched him hazily and got your breath back.

He waited until the fog cleared from your brain, he helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water.

“We need to get you cleaned up, babydoll.” He whispered, playing with your hair while you sipped the fresh cold water.

You looked at him for a moment.

"Were you serious?" You muttered as he looked at you in confusion.

"About making me a vampire so I can stay with you..." You whispered, looking away. You were afraid of the answer, you were even more afraid that you were just a temporary snack for Miguel.

He smiled and held your face in his hand.

"Yes, I was serious. I thought about it a lot... The thought of losing you makes my heart ache more than it ever has. But, it's up to you completely, my love. Why don't we take a nice shower and you think about it?" He asked as you blushed and nodded.

"Yes, please."

--

You sat on the couch in the living room while Miguel treated the wounds he had left on your body.

"I want to stay with you forever, Miguel... I love you." You muttered as Miguel looked at you and smiled.

"Are you sure, sweetheart? This is a big decision." He asked as you nodded.

"Yes, I'm completely sure. I'll miss you feeding off me but I'd gladly give it up if it means I get to be with you." You whispered in response as Miguel smiled.

He leant forward and kissed you softly.

"Than it's decided, my love. I'll take the best care of you while you turn, you don't need to be afraid. I love you so much, you're going to be mine forever." He whispered, kissing you again as you smiled.

"Forever."

[partyanimal167]

Paying Back Goodness- Vampire!Miguel x F!Reader

Was this supposed to be just another vampire!Miguel fic during October? Yes.

Is it definitely almost December instead? Also yes.

I need practice writing smut with this man for my other fic, so I'm definitely going to pretend that this came out before that other story lol

cw: modern au, black fem reader, smut, mdni, praise kink, biting (duh), pet names, pussy-drunk Miguel (our favorite munch)

For the life of you, all you wanted to do was rest. Literally. Life was wearing you out, but when a hot stranger needs your help, things somehow get more interesting.

You wanted to get home as soon as possible. You spent the entire day running around for your boss to make sure he didn't miss meetings or forget to send important documents. You didn't see yourself being a secretary, but you took a break from your main career, and this job found you with good benefits and some relief. However, being the workaholic you are, you were just as committed and driven in this job that was only supposed to be a year. Now, it had been two and a half.

It was fine at first. Your first boss was a gentle, sweet old man, but he was replaced a cocky asshole once he retired. You knew that the company was wealthy which meant things needed to be in order, but your boss could totally be tyrant.

You groaned as you turned on your car which beamed with a light stating you needed to get gas. You rested your head on the steering wheel and cursed past-you for being lazy that morning. It didn't matter though. It was Friday, and you actually had the weekend off to disassociate from the grind.

You drove to your favorite gas station nearby and decided to go inside for a snack. It was the normal night commuter crowd who quickly came and went like you planned on. You stood near the register thinking about which candy bar to buy when you heard someone clear their throat in your direction. You turned disinterested but ended up surprised by what you saw.

The man towered over you but looked down softly. He had handsome features: board shoulders, strong-looking arms, high cheek bones. His eyes were gentle as well as his hair that waved at certain points. You gulped quietly.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I think I left my wallet. Could I trouble you in getting this drink for me?" he scratched his head awkwardly, but the emotion looked cute on him.

You blinked twice then nodded. "Oh yeah sure, no problem." you placed your items on the counter and were in your thoughts. The man was dressed casually, but you were sure it was nice quality stuff. You mean, the situation happens to the best of people, so there was no reason to judge.

"Thank you so much, hermosa. I hope I can pay you back one day." the man smiled. You told him not to worry about it and went your separate ways. He was parked near your car, and you peeked to see how nice of a vehicle it was. You nearly choked. It looked like something that would be driven by your boss' boss. You turned away quickly as you filled your tank. You could hear the sound of an engine starting before a curse and then a door slamming.

You peered up and met the very shy gaze of the man from earlier. "This is really embarrassing, but I seem to be out of gas too..." he trailed off and barely met your eyes.

You just finished filling up, and you smiled to yourself. "Okay then." you walked over to the man's car and inserted your card.

"I'm so sorry. I was in such a rush to leave, and now I'm here bothering a beautiful lady." the man went on.

You coughed at the compliment but tried to play it off. "I get it, but let's just get you home. No point in being stranded. That would suck." you giggled.

The man nodded before searching for a scrap of paper while the tank filled. He fished for a pen before scribbling quickly. "I owe you one. If you ever need anything, anything, don't be afraid to call me please." You looked at the paper and read the name: Miguel O'Hara. Why was that familiar to you? You pocketed the slip and nodded. After insisted that you would call, you two went you separate ways.

You threw on your pajamas and flopped on your bed ready to rest the night away--promptly forgetting about your small act of kindness.

~~~

You were beat.

In the normal chaos of things, you totally forgot about the upcoming fall masquerade that your company was hosting. Thankfully, the event was handled by the marketing department, but you spent hours searching for a dress and mask to wear. You needed to look presentable. Your boss lectured you on who he needed to impress and how you need to find any and all hot gossip about the important business people. It seemed there were some ambitions he wanted to act on.

You didn't really care.

You stared at the garment bag hanging on the back of your bedroom door. You had a couple of hours before you needed to start getting ready, so you pulled out one of your work binders and flipped through the VIP list. You looked lazily at stuffy professional photos, facts on various business adventures, and quirks in people's personal lives. A couple red tabs highlighted your boss' targets, and you tugged on one randomly.

The page showed the strong intimidating face of one Miguel O'Hara. You nearly chocked on nothing. You knew his name was familiar! You were a bit startled by the photo. He looked so serious and commanding--very much the opposite of when you met him randomly at the gas station. The car made a lot more sense now. The man's pockets were deep. You glossed over to the personal facts. Your eyebrow quirked.

There were several bullet points noting how the man was a bit of a recluse, didn't like meetings before 4pm, preferred working at night, etc. He had been a highly sought after businessman for partnerships and investments, but was notorious for wanting all the details and spotting a swindler miles away.

You snorted to yourself. Your boss was going to have to be on top of his shit if he wanted to get away with anything, and you highly doubted that he was.

You hummed to yourself, looking at all the information. It was interesting to see how one's professional life contradicted with the personal. The gas station incident made a little more sense to you now. You wondered what made the man leave his house in the first place. Must have needed something and his staff was away.

You figured it would be easy to spot him later that night. Your boss would be ready to kiss ass and shake hands, so you didn't think you'd have much interaction to mentally prepare for.

Hopefully it would be an easy night.

~~~

"What did you just say?" Despite the mask covering half of your face, you knew that your disbelief was shining through. You were so tempted to kick your shoes off and high-tail out of the gala hall. Be fucking for real.

Your boss scoffed before pinching the bridge of his nose--as if his request was as simple as bringing him another drink. "Please don't be difficult tonight. I hear that O'Hara has been having a bit of a dry spell. If he seems even a little interested in you, pounce on him. Get into his bed if you need to. I'm sure he's got some important information in his home office."

You stared dumbfounded. "I am not fucking him for you! What the hell!"

An eye roll. "Oh please, I'm sure it'd do you some good. You don't have a boyfriend. Plus, I'll give you a raise. You can-," Thankfully, another VIP target appeared to speak with your boss which gave you an opportunity to slip away.

You didn't necessarily hate parties, but this grand showings of your company's wealth was a bit annoying when you felt you could be better compensated for your performance. You grabbed a glass of champagne and walked around a bit--chatting with some co-workers and seeing what little habits the rich and wealthy had. You weren't above knowing a little chisme, just not going to fuck someone for work.

"These things are always a little stuffy." a friendly voice said in your direction.

You didn't turn to see who it was but chuckled a little. "Yeah, but you gotta let the rich people have their fun. Otherwise, they're gonna start torturing poor people again." you kept your eyes on the crowd. Most people you recognized from their files, but despite your boss' wants, you hadn't seen Miguel O'Hara so far. The party had been going around for awhile. You weren't sure if he was going to show up, but that wasn't too much of your concern.

"Mm, that's quite an interesting thought." there was a brief pause, "Well I don't quite find amusement in people's suffering. But sometimes discipline is required--especially when you keep someone waiting." there was some teasing under there, and your brief tipsiness faded when that voice went a little deeper. You turned to face the stranger and softly gasped. "I thought you would have called me by now, Miss y/n."

Somehow seeing him this time, Miguel's presence felt entirely too large as you faced him. He looked down at you confidently, and there was some of that strong demeanor in his eyes. It reminded you of reading his file from earlier. He was definitely in his element here even if he preferred to be at home. You, on the other hand, were not used to high-end parties and social mingling. That's why you were off to the side watching.

Miguel indulged in seeing you decked out in a gown and a lacy mask. Your face was lightly beat, and lips shone in the light. You weren't going overboard like some of the other women there, but it didn't matter. He planned to seek you out after seeing your name as a point of contact for one of rich bastards here.

You took a moment to get your words together. "Ah well, I've been a bit busy...plus I didn't want to bother you."

Miguel grunted. "Wouldn't have been a bother at all. I'm the one who troubled you."

You waved your hand. "Ah well, it's fine really. A simple act of kindness. It's all good." you mumbled a little. There was an amusement in the man's eyes, and they seemed to glow with how his own masked framed his face. "I'm surprised you recognized me..."

A chuckle. "Of course hermosa, how could I forget such a beautiful face? I-,"

And just your luck for your boss to appear. "Ah there you are! Mr. O'Hara, I see you've met my lovely secretary. I hope she's giving you some good company. I'm-," he went on some rant, and you saw this as a chance to try and dip. You did not want your boss getting the wrong idea that you were going along with his shitty plan to seduce Miguel and search his house for whatever blackmail he assumed existed. It did look as though he was paying attention to your boss, so you quietly took a step away.

Immediately, you felt an arm around your waist-- pulling you closer to Miguel. Your faced warmed up. How did he even notice you move?

"Ah yes, I think we have a meeting coming up together soon. I'm interested in the project you proposed." Miguel interrupted the boring ramble. He leaned by your ear for a moment. "Find me on the third balcony in fifteen minutes." he whispered in your ear before letting you go.

You glanced at him then your boss before nodding. Your boss sent an unsubtle glare your way as you walked off.

...

It took an hour before you found yourself alone on the balcony. You took a seat on the sole bench and glanced up at the night sky. You had watched as crowds of people went out of their way to talk to Miguel. From afar, it seemed as though he had such a charismatic control over people. He leaned into it with powerful handshakes and cocky grins.

You were tempted to go home, but then your eyes met his and he winked. You decided to wait a little longer since the man wanted to talk to you.

You sighed after taking off your mask. You fidgeted with the shawl around your shoulders.

"Your boss is pretty shameless." you turned and watched Miguel approached you.

You chuckled before looking back at the sky. "Oh trust me I know. You wouldn't believe what he's asked me to do."

You felt the man stand close behind you. "Oh probably sending out his secretary to tease me." you quickly turned up at him. Miguel had a knowing grin. He licked his lips. "He's going to have to get more creative than that, but," he paused and took in the curious look in your eyes, "I would be tempted since it's you."

Things felt like they were warming up despite the autumn chill. "Excuse me?"

Miguel took a seat right by you, and the closeness wasn't in your favor. "I was hoping to take you out once you called, but that didn't happen." he huffed. "I had to wait to see you at work event. Not so charming."

You scratched your cheek and messed with the shawl again. "Ah well, you don't have to worry about charming me--people!" you corrected quickly. "People are drawn to you."

"Yeah for my money, but I wouldn't mind getting the attention I want for once." he gently reached out and turned your chin so you could properly look at him. "Gosh you look delicious." he groaned. You gasped as a thumb ran over your bottom lip. "Excuse my forwardness, but your sweetness drew me. I just want a little taste." he leaned in, "may I kiss you?"

"Yes." you quietly let out.

There was a shock that ran through you body feeling his lips against yours. You wanted to melt immediately. Yes, the man was attractive, but it was like something was pulling you just from his closeness and attention. You wanted to be greedy and hoard it. It suddenly wasn't enough to be alone with him outside. You feel something a bit pointy graze the skin of your lips, and you opened your eyes to see streaks of red in the man's eyes. Confusion flashed through you though Miguel looked down at you with a gentle fondness and deep hunger.

He slowly licked around what was definitely a fang as he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it, then placing it on his cheek. "Mmm, you feel so warm too." his voice vibrated through your skin and its sultry tone kept you aroused and intrigued despite the slow growing concern that things were not what they first seemed. Miguel could see it in your eyes--the curiosity just under that cloud of lust. "Oh nena, you're safe with me." another kiss onto your hand, "I just bite a little."

~~~

You didn't question why Miguel had a suite ready at a hotel nearby. You didn't question how he seemed to know where to touch and what to say. You didn't question what he was despite knowing that those fangs were real and how the pieces about him were coming together.

Miguel planned on being on his best behavior originally. He mentally prepared himself to be in the limelight with people flocking towards him on the pretense of business. He only wanted to speak with you originally about a casual coffee date or to ask you why you were working for a scummy boss. (So he looked into your job and company. Don't sue him) However, things were just so tempting seeing how you easily talked with him, how your dress hugged your body and color scheme lit up your eyes, how he could hear your heartbeat increase and watch the slight twitch of your neck.

He lost that battle to tempation.

So Miguel would take you away from the useless mingling and allow the two of you to indulge in one another.

You gasped as you bounced slightly on the bed and propped yourself up to watch the man. He eyed you almost drunkenly as he pulled at his tie and tossed his cufflinks to ground as if they were worthless. You moaned watching him undress himself all the way to his briefs and felt that hazy sensation when you were pulled to the edge of the bed. A leg was raised, and you bit your lip feeling that sharp grazing sweep over your skin. The skin didn't break, but the possibility excited you especially when the truth was becoming clearer. You saw how his eyes glowed in the dark, and you froze with both arousal and anxiety.

Miguel chuckled as he rubbed his face against your leg--kissing right behind your knee. "Mmm, I don't know how I want to taste you first." he muttered half to himself and you. He edged himself more feeling his teeth on you skin. He could sense your excitement. "It won't hurt, nena; I promise. Just want little bite, please." his sweet begging made you clench around nothing, and of course, he saw it. He reached up and dragged your thin underwear off you. He melted at the sight. "So eager to please me. Just want to be a good meal for a vampire like me? Yeah, I know."

You knew. He knew you did, but the confirmation did things to your body. You heaved for air, and body started to squirm for more. It did was so deliciously appealing to know that this man desired you in more ways than one. You spread your other leg quickly for him and whimpered as the air reached your core. "Please," you started off, "I want it."

Miguel chuckled as his hands ran further up than before, your dress pushing up and gathering by your waist. "You want it?" Miguel teased and mimicked you. "You want what baby? You gotta use your words pretty girl. I know you can do it."

But you weren't sure what exactly. Him to fuck you, yes, but how would it feel if he did those other unspoken things he wanted? If he did more than just bite you but truly indulged in your essence? You didn't want to decide just then; either one would be beyond satisfying for sure. You shook your heard--still squirming and panting for more. "Give me whatever." You yelped feeling a slap against your wet cunt.

"Not the right answer. Be specific, dulce." Miguel went on to slowly run his fingers up and watch the slick coat his fingers. He was starting to lose himself more. You smelled sweet and delicious. He hadn't had the temptation to eat in a long time, but after meeting you, he couldn't shake the feeling. He was fighting so hard to be calm, collected. But you were such putty in his hands. He'd give you anything you wanted too.

"I want you to eat me out, sir." you threw the words together, but they seemed to work since Miguel went straight to work--sucking on your clit. He made himself comfortable wrapping his arms around your thighs; there was no way you'd be able to escape if you really wanted to.

He was messy.

If you weren't so caught up in your own pleasure, you'd think about how he seemed to be doing this for himself. The room sounded wet. You went from gripping the sheets to his hair and thrashing up and down--trying to get even closer to that sinful tongue that moved better than you'd ever experience.

Miguel was definitely pleased with himself and your reactions. Your hands gripped his hair once his fangs ever-so gently pressed on your clit. He was drunk off your scent, your sounds, your essence. He wouldn't have minded spending his night here at all really. He's please to devour you in any shape or form.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come." you breath out.

Miguel enjoyed that confession. He didn't let up at all. He lapped his tongue up and down, sucked on your pearl, teased your entrance. Your body trembled and only babbles were coming out. You were submerged in that intense feeling; you thought nothing could top it really...

But then you felt two pricks. And soon you were drowning deeper.

Miguel drinks from your thick thighs. He couldn't help himself. Your enamored expressions from coming pushed him to have you once again--more towards his nature. You were truly filling his being now. His brain was blanking only having that warm, comforting feeling of safety in ecstasy. Your pleasure became his and vice versa. He was lost in the way you accepted him so easily; he hadn't experienced that before.

The man pulled his teeth out and lapped at the bite deliriously. He rested his head on a thigh and enjoyed watching you come down from that consuming experience.

Your lungs finally seemed like they could get enough air, and you blinked away tears--first staring at the dark ceiling then moving your head down to see those glowing red eyes stare up at you--so much reverence and care. It took you by surprise, but you could only moan. Words still failing you.

"You're so beautiful, reina." It wasn't lost to you how he licked around his pink-tinted fangs. He pushed himself up and kissed his way back up. "So delicious, you have to mine." he was nearly pleading. Another kiss on your neck then lips. His eyes were so eager yet soft. He smiled sweetly at you. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

~~~

Apparently, eights hours was enough time for your world to be turned upside down. While you dreamed of warmth and care, Miguel seemed to have been working to make life a lot easier for you. Breakfast had been ordered. Clothes delivered. And a plan to buy your company, fire your boss, and get you back into your desired profession easily formulated.

You were none the wiser as grapes were gently placed into your mouth even after you insisted that you were fine enough to feed yourself. Miguel wouldn't be having that.

The man was still gorgeous in the soft lights of the hotel room, and it was hard to maintain eye-contact after the night's...festivities. You darted your eyes again, and Miguel chuckled. You looked back. "What?"

Another smile. "Why can't you look at me? Was it too much?" he almost pouted.

You scratched your cheek and fiddled with your hair. "It was amazing...but in my defense, vampires are not common knowledge." you opened your mouth to be fed without hesitation this time.

"Well, we like to keep things that way." he paused for a moment. "And I was wondering..."

The shyness didn't seem like at him at all. You met his eyes though they seemed nervous. "What is it?"

Miguel looked back at you. "I was hoping I could take you out after all of this...maybe some dinner or something." you laughed. "What's so funny!"

You waved your hand. "Nothing. You just showered me in goodness, and you're the one that's shy about me not wanting to see you? I'd be out of my mind." you leaned over and pecked him on the lips. "Guess good deeds to pay off."

I am a sucker for a vampire!Miguel. I want all the sexy, tempting goodness. Help people folks. You never know were it'll get ya 😉

~~~

It took me over a month to get through most of this, but only twenty minutes for the last portion. Writing is weird.

[snowangelz]

i had a few requests for a masc version so here you go !!

[sagepinkhearts]

Miguel in my Victorian era vampire fic AU😍

(I kinda forgot how to draw for a lil while so this isn’t my best, hope it helps with visualization tho!!)

[lady-dulcinea]

Count Dracula preys on Lucy while she's sick & alone

from the Milwaukee Ballet's production of Michael Pink's Dracula Luz San Miguel as Lucy Westenra Davit Hovhannisyan as Count Dracula

[p1nkmic]

Don't know how to caption this,,

Let's just say that those fics on ao3 about biting changed something in me

[sp1der-wid0w]

deadass, it’s so funny and scary when these guys get mad

[rhetthammersmithhorror]

[bluegiragi]

they lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship

nsfw on patreon

[mikroscopy]

late for work for… reasons

btw peter b’s lower half of the suit got ripped thats y he’s wearing sweats … think whatever let your mind explode 🤭

[whimsyvixen]

How do you feel about Miguel O’Hara? If so, how would you feel about him as a vampire?

I'd let him have me.

[obxsprincess]

I'll Remember you for my wiser years to come if you jus write vampire!Miguel eating pussy as if blood was never an option broski🙏

oh bless u anon… bless you !!! <33 I think I read the thot wrong hfvbhgcgh m’sorry !!… don’t be afraid to send more vampire!mig tho doll face <3

————— ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

sure other men had eaten you out before !! all messy n sloppy n desperate !! but… miguel eats you out because your are his pretty little meal… n its urgent n greedy n sososo blissful!!!

he doesn’t ever even need to stick his fangs into a sweet little doe, not when ur just that !!! but even fuckin’ sweeter…

n of course he can’t just sit back n watch his sweetheart mewling n whining from the your monthly fucked up pains :(( hand splayed above your pretty tummy n legs wide… shiny pain flickering in ur glossy eyes… n hes fucking craving his pretty girl…

“been fucking waiting for this mi amor… fuckk dioses santos arriba te miran“ (holy gods look at you)

devouring u with his eyes…

legs hoisted over his bulk shoulders n dainty tears brim ur fluttering lashes… your glistening sweet little cunt all wet n swollen n dripping in droplets of blood, smearing your plushy thighs !! n ur pink silky bed !!!

this is sososo new to you !! of course migs is a vampire but this??-

“m-miguel” he lifts ur dainty foot n drags his tongue along your ankle… “I-it’s s’dirty-” but his mouth just feels sososo good !! making ur nervous head all sweetly blurry :((

but miguels starving- you squeak as his glorious fangs nip at your pretty thighs !!! n the sweet mind melting smell of your crimson blood n slippery pussy had him going fucking insane-

“fuckk love- can’t you see what your fucking doing to me? lay back and breath mi alma- never gonna need to hunt ever fucking again-”

n when I say he dives in… he dives in!!!

tan chin n lips n teeth covered in ur delicious blood… tongue diving so deeply inside of u your sobbing n writhing… its absolutely undoubtedly filthy!!!

n miguels in heaven!! your pretty taste n your angel sounds n your blood… nipping at your puffy clit- n feasting on ur swollen fluttering folds… all sloppy n soso bloody n delirious!!!

n your just a sobbing little puddle of bliss :((

n he feasts for glorious glorious hours on end on his perfect innocent little mortal… n when your sleepy n overstimulated n mush cus !!!!!

he just flips his pretty meal over on your tummy !!! suffocating his tongue right back into ur drooling pussy… inhuman muscles glistening as he gets lost in ur essence…

of course of course vampire!miguel is absolutely pussy drunk on your pretty little heat… but what’s the term for being absolutely whipped on ur heady drippy blood??

n his white fangs drip in ur crimson droplets… <3

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[oolong---latte]

nosferatu

[vee6lolz]

𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

[ultrainfinitepit]

Spidersona redesign! They have upgraded from Spider Knight to Spider Angel.

Bonus I have a problem