#x man friend

[warcats-cat]

ALSO ALSO I know you like fairies so what's your favorite depiction of fairies/fey in fiction? for me, I really like the different types of fey in the Maleficent movies, and I've gotten into rereading Fablehaven lately (and writing a fic about it, which is basically pure concentrated Hyperfixation) and I really like all the magical creatures in those books too. thoughts?

I had to look up the Fablehaven ones because I've never read the series but -

Yee!!! Little people's with wings!!! Mischief! Silliness!! Perhaps a blessing perhaps a curse!! I call them sprite-type fairies; the ones who are miniature floating people with magic. These are my favorite tier because these are the ones I grew up with - I had a big book of fairies that my grandparents gave me and in the spring/summer we would leave out oranges and biscuits for them to bless my grandma's garden. (And maybe try to catch a glimpse or two).

The other "tier"//type of fairies I like are the Fair Folk - human but to the Left. They're like us but powerful, you have to be careful lest they trick you into giving up more than you have. The ones I learned about earlier, and now may or may not be one of 😉. Always keep a piece of iron or a pinch of salt in your pocket, don't walk counter-clockwise around a church, and never EVER give someone your true/full name. And don't anything they offer you.

I had a boyfriend who was Wiccan and practiced worship of the Fair Folk, and he told me I have a Faerie looking out for me - yeah it's a little crazy, but over the last two years, every time I've been in a really bad/scary situation, I've found a bluejay feather on my car windshield, always in the same place. I personally believe that there is natural magic in the world, I practice my own forms of blessings and luck, and every once in a while I dip into tarot/palm reading/fortune telling. All of the Wiccan practitioners I've met said that I have some kind of magic around me, and that it's natural in my life, which I take as a compliment. Believe whatever you choose to, I believe in many things.

I will say I'm not big on the goblin-like//monstrous fairies. I don't remember what movie it was but like,, all of the "fairies" were very troll and goblin coded, and that just gives me bad anti-Semitism vibes >.>

[deadsetobsessions]

“Oops.”

Danny shrieked.

The bloodied vigilante leaning against his wall was concerning. But even worse…

“My window!! Oh my god! Why?!”

“Your- is that- that’s seriously your first concern? I’m actually offended.”

“Oh, is the dumbass bleeding out on my carpet giving me sass? Watch the attitude, you’re half a quarter pint from death right now.”

“You’re strangely calm… about this.”

Danny gestured to his window, shattered in front of him.

“Do I look calm to you? I literally just replaced that window last week!”

“My bad.” The vigilante slid down the wall, leaving a bloody smear.

“Oh my god,” Danny groaned as he got a first aid kit and began patching the guy up. “I’m never getting my deposit back.”

“You have weird priorities.”

“Listen, bird guy-”

“Red Robin.” Bird guy interjected. He winced as Danny dabbed the alcohol soaked cotton ball harder on his cut.

“But if I had a nickel for every time a vigilante crashed through my window, I’d have two. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.”

“Who was the first one?”

“Surprisingly? Signal. Dude got a migraine and crashed through like a pigeon versus a glass wall.”

“Damn, he didn’t mention that. You got pics?”

“Pay for my carpet and wall first, and then we talk blackmail negotiations after.”

“Deal- ow!”

“Stay still, dumbass!”

[hypertechnica]

THE LOVE TRIANGLE

ford, fidds, and bill are living in a late 70s/early 80s sci fi psychological horror film that was buried upon release due to its explicit gay themes but quickly became an underground cult hit

numerous associations would decry its depiction of homoeroticism between its principal characters, but nobody could deny the surrealist film had its merit. “it’s like someone concocted an unholy combination between the shining and space odyssey and then died of the instantaneous nuclear fallout. why would anyone make this? are they stupid?” one reviewer said.

more alternates + sketch under the cut

[emirrart]

24,07,2024

[0-maltiuu-0]

*gwen and miles being in the same room* the shippers:

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[rosegoldenatlas]

Can we take a second just to admire cc!Joel Smallishbeans. Like my guy is currently on two smp's, he keeps up with Hermitcraft, he is somewhat present on SOS. Also his base is incredibly detailed, its large, and he has gotten really good at armor stands out of nowhere. He updates an average of once a week, he took a vacation to Japan and still managed to keep up with Hermitcraft.

He can follow the bit and has an uncanny ability to stop himself from being the butt of the joke. Like for example the neck kisses thing was at first a kind of 'ha ha that's really weird Joel' then he leaned into it so hard that now Etho is the one obsessed with Joel's neck kisses and both of them are obsessed with each other and its not just Joel.

And the whole ieseki harem bit too?? Like he has half of the server around his finger cause of a bit.

Also he is actually kind of good at tricking people? Like bro convinced three (I think) people that Etho built the statues not him.

Hes funny as hell and also he is like really bold? Like my guy posted himself singing a Minecraft parody to 'Money Money Money' he makes Hollywood level intros in Minecraft. His intros are the best by the way always have been. They're more elaborate now and they are really funny but there was a charm to when his intros were him standing in front of a horse hilling machine with no acknowledgment of it.

Joel appreciation post completed

[guarding-the-veil]

Varric, upon meeting Rook, having flashbacks to Handers and Solavellan: PLEASE have a better taste in partners than my other friends I BEG YOU

[a-great-tragedy]

Listen, you can’t be partners in crime and also be just “Best Friends”cause there is nothing more gay than planning murder

[stealingyourbones]

I desperately need more mentor uncle figures and mentor brother figures in DPxDC to fill the interesting relationship dynamic gap that father figures stories can't always fill are u picking up what I'm putting down. Hell, just a regular friendship relationship with absolutely 0 familial dynamic.

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[deadsetobsessions]

Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

��What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!

[wishchip106]

just thinking about erik making his house accessible on genosha

all the other mutants wondering why this tall guy made all his furniture low to the ground

they express their concerns about his back

then it all makes sense when he brings charles to live on genosha

“Oh he was just down bad this whole time”

bro looks like an egg. smooth ass dome

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Wolf and the Rabbit

Male Alpha Wolf Hybrid Tsundere x Male Omega Bunny Hybrid Reader CW: Mildly dubious consent (Not the sex but other actions), consensual sex, knotting, being chased, pheromones, a/b/o, biting, scent marking, scent kink, underarm kink, huffing underwear, masturbation Word Count: 2k (This was written at the request of a good friend who wished to remain anon, I hope you all enjoy it. If you REALLY love it feel free to tip me at the link in my pinned post or even commission me.)

City life had gotten unbearable. The constant bills and dead-end job. The hustle and bustle of the environment. Traffic and construction. It had all just become far too much. It was suffocating and oppressive. You clearly needed a change.

And what better place for a bunny hybrid like you to live than in a nice forest. You saved up your money and sold many of your possessions to buy a nice burrow under a great oak tree.

It was everything you had hoped for. The burrow was the size of a small house. A bedroom, bathroom, living room, and small kitchen. Outside, there were plenty of wooded areas for you to forage, and clear spots near the burrow entrance allowed you to grow crops. Lettuce and carrots were a must.

One sunny day, after you had finished unpacking the last of your boxes, you decided you should explore the edges of your property. You hummed to yourself as you went along, putting any food you found in a basket. You had amassed a sizable amount of dandelion greens.

Suddenly, your ears perked up, and your nose wiggled. Something was off... you felt like you were in mortal peril...

You heard a snarl and bolted. You could hear footsteps giving chase behind you, but you didn't dare look. In no time, your pursuer caught up to you and pushed you to the forest floor. You tried to crawl away, but he flipped you over on your back, giving you a view of him for the first time.

A growling wolf man.

He leered down at you with cold eyes of steel, the blue-grey fur on his ears and tail bristling. He was much larger than you were, fairly chubby but also very muscular. His scent was that of an alpha.

“Think you can just wander into my territory and get away from me, creampuff!? No, I gotta teach you a lesson!”

Tears streamed from your eyes as you stared at his bared fangs. You were sure he had gone feral and was going to rip you to shreds. You futilely stammered out some pleas and protests. He rolled his eyes and pinned you down, putting you into a bit of a chokehold as he rubbed your head into his underarm. He continued this until you thoroughly reeked of his scent and then got off of you with a grunt and left.

“There, now you know my scent, I’m Lupin, and this is my territory, don’t come near it again!”

“I-I’m…” You muttered your name to him as he walked away, though you didn’t know why you bothered.

He hadn’t been trying to do anything sexual to you. You were an omega, but he told himself that he wasn’t interested. He was above all that and valued his solitude above all else. But as he left, he had to conceal a massive boner. That night thoughts of hunting you down and marking you all over with his smell haunted him. He had no choice but to masturbate to the thought.

The incident had a similar effect on you. You started producing quite a bit of slick. Once he had shown he had no interest in harming you, his scent became erotically stimulating, and it clung to you heavily. Of course you knew that it was not a sexually charged act and that he had only marked you because you had violated his property, but you couldn’t help jerking your cock and slipping your fingers into your slick lubed hole while thinking of him hunting, marking, and fucking you.

You just couldn’t stay away. You did for a few days, but you couldn’t resist your fantasies. So inevitably, you found yourself “accidentally” out of the bounds of your property line.

It didn’t take long for Lupin to descend upon you. He hadn’t been far, and he could detect your omega pheromones easily. It surely wasn’t because he had been brooding near the shared border of your properties in hopes that you would come by again.

You zipped away, and once more, he gave chase. This time, you knew who was there and didn’t have the same type of fear and were much more clear-headed. Your evasive skills were better as a result. The both of you enjoyed the hunt immensely. The thrill of catching and dominating you spurred him on while the rush of resistance and submission drove you.

This time, when he caught you, he made a big show of acting frustrated and annoyed at the very notion that you would dare to invade his space a SECOND time. Clearly, he had not properly put you in your place.

Feeling a bit more resistant than you did during the first encounter, you just huffed and turned away from him.

“Stubborn fucker.”

Then he did the same as he had done the first time but finished by removing his shirt and scenting it by rubbing it all over his sweaty body before forcing you to wear it. It was far too large and looked rather comical on you and steeped you in his scent even more thoroughly than you already had been.

You blushed and looked away, trying to seem undaunted as he pointed and laughed at the sight while trying not to make it apparent that seeing you in his clothing while wearing his scent wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever encountered.

He quickly left, leaving you to deal with the growing pool of slick that was soaking your pants. The wolf-man only waited until he was out of sight before he whipped out his cock and started fervently jerking off. Similarly, you didn’t make it home either before you had to pleasure yourself.

It quickly became a favorite game for both of you. You'd enter his domain and act like it wasn't on purpose, and he'd chase you away and act super annoyed when he finally caught and marked you. You'd hurl insults at him and tell him he stank, and he'd call you an idiot with no common sense.

And when the other was out of sight, you'd each fervently tend to your arousal.

Though one time when you went seeking to get scent marked, he was curiously absent. He had gone to a little marketplace where all the nearby forest dwellers gathered to trade and purchase wares. No one had told you about it yet. Lupin had a stall where he peddled foraged items and wood carvings he made.

As you ventured deeper and deeper into his land, you made sure to make a lot of noise, even resorting to straight-up shouting insults. You were about to give up and turn back when you stumbled upon his house.

It didn't appear that anyone was home, though, so you were still going to leave... right after you walked around outside a bit so he would know you had been there. Just to annoy him.

While you walked around a bit, you noticed a captivating smell. His smell. Though not very fresh, it still made you leak a bit of slick. It was wafting from an open window. You knew you should have just ignored it and that what you were doing was a massive violation, but like a moth to a flame, you climbed right in anyway.

Your sensitive nose found the source of his scent immediately, a dirty close hamper with some recently worn boxers on top. So you did what any omega bunny close to heat would do... you grabbed his boxers and put the crotch to your nose and inhaled deeply before shedding your clothes and wiggling into his warm covers.

They smelled of him too.

You continued to huff his under garment as you began to wank your cock desperately, his scent sending you fully into heat a bit earlier than expected. You alternated between slipping fingers into your naturally lubed hole and playing with your cock, but nothing satisfied you.

The self pleasure session must have lasted over an hour by the time it was interrupted by Lupin opening his room to the sight of you entirely debauched, your cum on your belly, slick pooling on his sheets, and his underwear in your hand. You stopped immediately when he entered and stated at him wide-eyed in an expression of fear mingled with surprise.

After a long silence, the wolf man finally spoke up, "What the fuck do you think you're doing you gross little weirdo!??"

The room was filled with the smell of your lust charged omega pheromones, he feigned a look of abhorrence while hoping his rapidly hardening cock didn't make a noticeable bulge in his pants.

You were blushing with embarrassment and a bit out of it due to your heat, but you managed to collect yourself.

"I was coming over to bug your grumpy ass when I went into heat... and well... even your disgusting smell will do when I'm desperate..."

The two of you traded insults, and he got slowly closer as the two of you did so.

"Your musk is really inadeq-"

He stuffed your face in his armpit before pulling away and getting into the bed with you. Your mind was fuzzy as your heat and a direct dose of his alpha pheromones claimed your senses.

"I don't... want your smelly dick in me... but it'll help my heat, so..."

You turned away, blushing even more deeply than previously as you spread your legs for him.

"Well, I don't want to either... but whatever gets you to stop being so needy and out of my bed..."

Your hole was so lubed and well prepped by your own fingers that he slid in every inch of his thick cock into you effortlessly. You shuddered as he entered you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he nibbled at your neck while he fucked you.

"Heh, such a needy slut. You take me pretty well, though."

You scoffed half-heartedly at the comment.

Lupin flung your legs over his shoulders and forced you into a mating press before pounding into you in earnest. You, at least in the moment, abandon all pretense of not wanting it. As does he.

A loud moan escapes you as you cum hard, he isn't far behind and instinctively bites your neck as he knots you. The two of you lay panting a moment before he started grinding his knot back and forth within you. You went several more rounds, until you both were sore and barely conscious. The two of you found yourselves passed out within one another’s embrace.

You both awoke the net morning roughly at the same time. Each of you hardening your expression when you remembered you’re supposed to hate each other.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I let you put that gross knot in me!”

Hey! Don’t act like the victim here you fucking freak, you came into my house and got your slick and pheromones everywhere! It clouded my brain. Fuck look at the mess you made!”

You scrambled out of the covers to get your clothes on as he did the same before hopping out of the bed, your little cotton tail wagging in annoyance.

“Well what the fuck ever, I have to go!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let the door hit you on your way out…”

You made for the door as he asked under his breath, “Same time next month…?”

You had already shut the door behind you by the time you had registered what he had asked. You opened the door briefly to give your response.

“Yes please.”

You then slammed the door, feigning anger, and headed home for a much needed shower. You blushed and grinned like an idiot the entire way back.

[daneecastle]

What did I do?

I'm supposed to be sleeping?

You're welcome ......

I'll color it tomor- ...... when I wake up. Night.

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Blue 🧼