#Hydrophobic Coatings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

giuliettagaltieri · 10 months

Text

Project: Eros

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Synthezoid!Reader

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back. But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Warning: Innuendos, manhandling, size kink, virgin reader, explicit smut, unprotected smut, belly bulging, wing pulling, creampie

Word Count: 5435

3 of 3

It was not difficult for you to fit into the Spider Society. Usually, you spend your day beside Miguel, aiding him in delegating tasks to the spider recruits. Sometimes, you would just go around the HQ, chatting and meeting new people.

But something else has been taking your time as of lately.

Somehow it just doesn’t feel right to you that your wings and halo are both missing. You felt utterly bare without them and you often found yourself substituting their absence with an obnoxious feather coat that Lyla chose personally. She said that you too should have a coat like her and you were just happy to accept it as it was very warm and comfortable.

Lyla was enthusiastic in volunteering to create the devices for you but you wanted to at least design them out, starting from the type of material to use.

You were thinking that the molecules to build the feathers could be made from keratin-based nanofibers. That would mimic the characteristics of real wings. It would be durable and hydrophobic, which will ensure that you will not fall to your death despite any weather.

When you told Miguel that you wanted to have the wing socket implanted on your back, he was rather skeptical, telling you that it would be dangerous to have such a large target attached to you.

“Miguel, if you lost an arm, would you want a cybernetic implant like the Winter Soldier or would you settle for a retractable blade like Razor Fist?” You glared at him hard. “Both would work fine in battle but it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

Lyla stops whatever she’s doing and stares at Miguel critically.

He grumbles his reply and just reaches for the tape measure lying around on the table he’s leaning on. “Alright, but I’ll be leading the team.” He twirls his finger. “Turn around for me.”

You grin at Lyla who resumes her work with an amused smile.

Besides, you are not automatically going to become a battle type synthezoid like J.A.R.V.I.S. Vision. You would rather help Miguel through an earpiece. You can barely lift a liter of bottled water for five minutes, what makes you think that you’ll be able to throw a proper punch?

Perhaps you’ll get there but you’d rather work behind screens for now.

Giddily, you do as Miguel says and you show him your back.

“Drop the coat.” He grunts. “Honestly, you look like an oversized flamingo in this.”

“Hey!” Lyla yells but she gets ignored.

You try not to squirm away from Miguel’s touch as his fingers brushed against your skin, the cold tape measure being pressed flat on your skin that was exposed in your sundress and Miguel hums.

“Alright, I have a couple ideas how we could make the wings lighter. We could attach it just below your scapula. I don’t want to touch your spine as much as possible so we could perhaps sit them a few millimeters away on each side of your lumbar vertebrae.” His finger brushes down to the said location and you can’t help the chills that ran through you.

Miguel seems to notice and his eyes dart to the back of your head. “We could attach it to multiple ribs to support the weight.” He runs his finger on your back, his finger digging to the cotton sundress he bought for you. Another shiver and this time, he did not miss it as he was already waiting for it.

You gasp when two strong hands slammed on your waist. Immediately, you were squirming, trying to get out of his hold.

“I knew it.” He rasps. “You’re ticklish.”

“No!” It came out as a squeal when Miguel wriggled his fingers on your side. “Stop it!” Your eyes fill with tiny tears as uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you.

A call on Lyla’s screen stole Miguel’s attention and you collapsed to his forearm that he used to cage around your midriff.

“It’s a call from Earth-199999.” Lyla beams at you. “Heya, Peter!”

Peter was shown on the screen, not in his suit but a plain tee and flannel. “I figured out the mechanism of the cas- 3D printer. I also broke down the organic fibers used in Y/N’s musculature. I could send it to you now.” Loud clacking was heard from Peter’s end and a small box appeared on Lyla’s screen.

“Got it. Thanks, Peter! This is a ton of help.” Lyla waves at him and the screen shuts off.

You finally got out of Miguel’s hold and you picked up the coat.

“How does it look, Lyla? You think we could bond it to keratin?” Miguel asks.

Lyla rubs her chin and opens more screens. He glowing hands dancing in the air, creating and breaking molecular bond structures. “If we put this here, and replace this with that…Pretty sure we can do it.”

You cheer. “And how soon can we do the implant?” You ignore Miguel’s disapproving look.

“We have to start from scratch and grow the material ourselves. We could perhaps harvest after four days. Then we have to assemble the wings from the bones to the epidermis.” Lyla scratches her head, processing the data. “With the team we have, that could take two whole days.”

“Make it three.” Miguel says. “I’ll be the one to put it together. No one else. I want it to be as precise as possible.” He turns to you. “You’ll be able to wait that long, won’t you, firefly?”

Aware that it was more of a rhetorical question, you simply nod at him.

“And my halo?” You ask with your eyes wide and expectant. “You’ll let me help design it, right?”

Miguel simply nods. “We can work on it after dinner.” A loud beeping from his device told you that he’s once again needed by the spiderverse.

He excuses himself as you stay and help Lyla around in preparing the materials.

“Wow, I never heard him say something so healthy for a long time.” Lyla hums as she glitches from one of her screens to the other. “He almost didn’t take proper meals and would rather nap in his office before working again.”

You tut disapprovingly, slipping on a pair of protective gloves and safety goggles.

“If he keeps on doing that, he’d drop dead by 40.” You say as you pour a murky solution in a separatory funnel to separate the protein biopolymers that you need.

“Maybe even sooner.” Lyla replies, half joking. “But he looks more rested since you arrived.”

You smile at her bashfully. “I’m glad to hear that but I’d also hate to get in the way of his work.”

Lyla waves at you dismissively. “Don’t worry! I developed a program to create better roster depending on the availability of the spiders to give Miguel more time with you.” She glitches right in front of you and shows a pixelated clipboard that shows the statistics. “It’s been a week since you arrived and I have been running this since and so far, everything is going so well.”

You squint at the data, more and more impressed the longer you stare at it. “That’s really efficient of you, Lyla.”

She spins the clipboard before it vanishes, smirking proudly. “It’s in our code.”

Working side by side with Lyla felt like the most natural thing to do, a synergy being created with your dynamics.

Meows Morales and Spider-Guin dropped by to have Guin’s suit repaired in the lab next to you and they hang around your lab for the meantime.

The purring of Meows Morales might have been the cutest thing you saw so far since you are brought in the physical world.

Both of them fell asleep on your lap as you tried to design a device that could project a halo.

Before taking the train to snoozeville, Meows randomly asked why you’d stop at that when you can use it as a hoop or further manipulate it into any badass weapon.

It was not a bad concept, although it sounds exactly like a bona fide Meows Morales idea.

You told Miguel about it and he considers it while chewing on tuna, you’re starting to introduce proteins in your diet now.

“I suppose it could be helpful.” He swallows. “But that would only encourage you to do crime fighting—which I will never allow, by the way—so no.”

You only shrug as you chew on peas. “Maybe one day, when my muscles are strong and coordinated enough.”

Miguel dismisses it quickly and you just let him win. He did such a good job in cooking dinner, you just had to concede.

The topmost part of the building was a private floor for Miguel. Well, Miguel and you now.

You tried to convince him to let you sleep on the pods that took inspiration from Tokyo’s capsule hotels. It’s a space where thousands of spider-people could crash for a night or two but as you are staying longer than a couple nights, Miguel offers the extra room in his private floor.

The rest of the days were a blur.

As Miguel made your wings in the lab, you had to spend your days in the gym, just next to the training grounds. You wanted to be involved in making your wings but Miguel thinks it was more important for you to build muscle strength and endurance at the moment.

If your back is too weak, you would be slouching under the weight of the wings that have an expanse of five meters. Originally, it was supposed to be bigger to carry your weight but Miguel made modifications that will make the material lighter and more aerodynamic so it’d really work despite the smaller size.

It was finally time to surgically attach the wings on your back and Dr. Stephen Strange’s skills were once again needed.

Miguel reassures him that the Spider Society will watch over his universe for the rest of the surgery. Strange wasn’t easily persuaded. He was rather skeptical and Miguel’s hostility towards him wasn’t helping either but when spider-people started filling the sanctum to protect Earth-199999 upon Miguel’s order, he was reassured to certain levels.

The operation concerns multiple bone, nerve, and tissue alignment, something that Stephen should have been familiar with, had it not been enormous wings that needed to be attached to your back.

Nevertheless, the team succeeded. The sixteen-hour operation went so well that they had to do a couple reality checks to see that what they just accomplished was really real.

You had to stay in bed for another week to allow your stitches to heal.

During that time, Miguel was able to give you the device that projects your halo, it came in the form of a heavily bejeweled barrette. You adored the device which looked more like a jewelry to you.

When you took your first step with the additional weight on your back, Miguel was by your side, ready to catch you as you held on to the parallel bars that helped you regain your balance and coordination.

After that, you are back in the gym to continue building overall strength. You’d hate to have a bad gait and just let the beautiful individually created feathers drag on the floor as you walked. They’d eventually get dirty and damaged.

Your body has healed and your latissimus dorsi and trapezius are used to the wings’ weight that you unconsciously lift them in the air and curl them around yourself when accidental explosions from the other labs startle you.

When you flapped your enormous wings and perched yourself on Miguel’s shoulder after a lizard slithered itself on the hallway outside of Miguel’s office, he knew you were ready to attempt your first flight.

Miguel stood next to you in the training area, on an elevated block that resembled a building. There’s a lot of it in the area and they’re meant to let the new spiders get the hang of swinging around downtown.

But you’re not exactly going to swing through them, you’ll be jumping off them and hopefully you will not crash and literally break a leg. Although you doubt Miguel will ever let that happen.

“Go on.” He tells you when you kneel on the edge to look down at the sheer drop. “I’ll be watching, don’t worry.”

“Don’t save me too soon though.” You say as you stand up and brush the dust off your knee.

He just nods, watching you breathe deeply.

“Don’t be scared.”

“It’s impossible not to!” You whine.

‘’But do it anyway.” He crosses his arms, watching you stall around, fixing your flowy dress, preening your wings with your shaking hands. “Just jump!”

“Alright, alright!”

You can feel the rush of your blood, making your entire body hot, and your heart, it’s beating erratically.

“You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.” Miguel comments, flatly.

Just to spite him, you throw yourself on the edge. You weren’t really prepared yet, were you? But of course, you’re too stubborn to admit that to him.

You open up your wings and the resistance to air is so dramatic that your breath hitches upon impact, you are still descending but slower. Your fist clenched as you flapped your wings until your feet were safely planted on the ground.

There’s a soft thud behind you. But you did not get to turn your head when two large hands wrapped around your waist and your feet left the ground once more as you were twirled around by an excited looking Miguel.

“You did so well! And on your first try too.” He laughed and you can’t help but laugh along with him.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned stupidly at you. The light from the setting sun shone brightly behind you, making your halo glint and you, you look more angelic than ever. He clears his throat and he sets you back down to stand on your own feet.

“I wanna go again!” You cheer.

Miguel allowed you a few more times and with every try, you were able to get better and better. On the last one, you soared through the air and land safely on another building.

“Did you see how I stuck that landing?” You asked Miguel again for what seemed like the third time that night.

He wipes the sheen from the steak he had just eaten from his lips and nods at you. “It was absolute perfection, firefly.” He sips on the wine, amused at how you suddenly turn bashful, smiling down at your own plate as you push a sautéed mushroom.

“You really think so?”

Miguel pressed his lips to a thin line as you bat your eyes at him.

What exactly are you doing? Is this a deliberate attempt to stir him up? Or are you doing this without even noticing the effect you had on him?

“I know so, mi princesa.”

Your eyes go round at the nickname, your movement turns more skittish as you play with the halo device that you put atop the table, giving your head a brief rest from its weight.

It has become a routine for you to clean up the table as it was Miguel who cooks for you. And perhaps it was just his imagination getting the best of him but Miguel could have sworn there was more sway on your hips as you carried the plates to the sink, the movement more sensual.

He cups his jaw as he watches you clean the dishes. Miguel found himself leaning back on his chair. You’re just so effortlessly beautiful, aren’t you? He watched your foot slip out of your fluffy slippers and rub at your calf.

“I can finish cleaning up.” Miguel offers. “You must be tired.”

You shake your head, smiling so warmly at him, he almost felt bad for the sinful thoughts that ran through his head. “It’s okay, I’m almost done anyway.”

“Your back is stiff.” He comments, his brows drawing to a frown, wondering if you strained yourself too much. The curve of your back turns softer after hearing his words and he just watches you adjust your posture. “Do you want to take a warm shower?”

You roll your eyes. “It broke, remember?” It was all you ever did when you arrived, taking warm showers in your very own bathroom and eventually, it gave up on you.

Miguel gets up to hand you a towel to dry your hands. “You can use mine.” He does not falter, meeting your eyes despite how swiftly they snapped to him. The look he gives you is heavy and you remain staring, afraid you’ll miss something by just looking away for a quarter second. “Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of this roommate setup we have going on.” He’s no longer talking about your sleeping arrangements and he thinks you know it too.

“Is that so?” You gently put the plate down. “Why don’t you do something about it then?” You whisper in a tone he never heard you use before, everything about it so carnal.

The towel from your hand drops to the hardwood floor as Miguel pulls you by the waist to slam your chest against his. He studies your features before devouring your lips. The squeal you give when he lifts your body so your bum is sitting on the countertop is swallowed by his hungry kisses.

Miguel groans softly when you card your fingers through his hair, your nails gently running through his scalp.

Gossamer threads connect your lips as you part. His pupils are dilated, his breathing heavy.

“Should I stop?” He rasps out.

You continue to play with his hair, curling and pinching his dark strands on your delicate fingers. Unable to trust your voice, you only shake your head ‘no’, a flash of vulnerability and desperation was there and Miguel can see them very well.

You have no idea where he’s taking you but you trust him enough not to care. It was only when gravity held you tightly in her clutches that you started to panic but the soft mattress under you answered your questions.

“What happened to the warm shower?” You snicker at Miguel who is trying to reach for the zipper on your back but your wings get in the way.

“Later. Didn’t want your flavor to get washed off.”

You grimace and even let out a giggle. “That’s disgusting.”

A wet stripe was licked on your neck and that was all the answer you got as he was now losing his patience with your dress. Until finally, he just ops to grip your collar and you hear the unmistakable sound of the fabric tearing. “You are so buying me a new dress, mister.” You jab a finger to his chest.

His nose skims your throat down to your chest, humming deeply. “Anything you want, baby. Anything you want.”

Goosebumps once again erupt on your skin when his lips press a soft kiss on the fat of your chest, you gasp softly when the tips of his fangs press on you but not quite breaking your skin, only grazing teasingly.

Miguel meets your eyes before he takes a hardened bud between his lips.

“Oh!” Your hand flies to his shoulder, surprised with the sensation he caused. “Miggy, that’s—Oh!”

His hand scoops you up, lifting your torso off the bed, and he hunches over you as he sucks hard, as if trying to draw milk.

Your eyes squeeze hard when he switches to the other bud, leaving the other one all stiff, tingly, and wet with slobber.

Your stomach almost cramps up when Miguel leaves a trail of kisses on it as he brings your thighs up and presses them on the map of skin he was just kissing.

He chuckles when he finally sees you.

“What are you laughing about?” You almost whine, brows pulled to the cutest frown.

Miguel presses a kiss on your thigh and brushes a kiss on your almost pulsating clit, making your attempt to press your legs close unsuccessful, only trapping him further.

“I’m only admiring, mi princesa.”

You try to hold your frown but the bastard can be pretty charming if he wanted to.

Shyly, you part your legs for him. He nips on your inner thigh, making you shift your hips but his large and heavy hand lands on the back of your thighs to keep you pressed on the mattress, your body sinking deeper on it under Miguel’s hold.

“Don’t run away from me now.” He looks at you and slowly lifts his hand off, watching closely if you’ll do as he says. Your eyes are on him when he raises the same hand to his lips and presses his index and middle finger flat on his tongue and they emerge slightly glistening. You follow them as they move slower until they disappear and next thing you know, you can feel them.

Warm, rough, and big.

You hold your breath when they brush on your lips down there, parting them softly.

“Eyes on me.” Miguel says sternly and your eyes snap up to meet his.

You let out a soft hum when Miguel’s thumb slides on your slit to gather your slick and rubs careful circles on your puckering clit. The thrill was making your back tingle, and you jolt when his middle finger slides inside you. When he curls it upwards, you throw your head back against the pillows, lips parted so beautifully.

“I said, eyes on me.” Miguel growls.

Reluctantly, you look back to him, letting your elbows support your torso to take him in better. Your brows are drawn together again when he rubs your twitching walls. Your wings shift, almost looking like they’re about to flap in excitement.

“Miggy.” You breathe out, feeling your toes curl up when he adds another finger. “Gentle, please.”

A loud squelch, when he pulls them out halfway before plunging them back in, makes you bite your lip.

Miguel grins cockily, encouraged by your hums and broken whimpers. His fingers worked with precision. Every stroke never fails to earn him a breathy moan, his veins popping out as he works your tightness.

Every motion felt like a warning, like the sand on an hourglass, ever falling, ever filling. You know that something is going to happen to your body soon, very very soon. And you find yourself chasing it.

It felt like falling.

There was a tickle on your stomach that you can only associate with the feeling of dropping from a sheer height and it travels to your legs and your spine. You scream as your back arches off the bed, your nails digging on the toughness of Miguel’s biceps.

“There you go.” Miguel groans, his fingers picking up the pace, your clit buzzing under his warm thumb.

Tears sprung on your eyes as the sensation garbled up and swallowed you whole. You were reaching for Miguel before you knew it. You whimper when his fingers slide out of you, your juices leaking on his sheets and smearing on your skin as he wrapped an arm on your waist.

He presses a kiss on your shoulder and you wrap your arm on his neck, wanting only to be as close to him as physically possible.

“Too much?” He whispers between kisses.

You put a distance between you so you can look at him but meeting his eyes only made your cheeks warm, reminding Miguel that he’s touching a virgin pure and he never felt more ravenous.

“Mm—no. Don’t wanna stop, Miggy.” You say, bashfully, more to his chest than him as you are still unable to meet his eyes.

That was all he needed to hear.

Miguel was already guiding you to lie back down on the bed. But a gentle twitching of your brows has him halting his movements.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quickly, his eyes scanning your body for any possible source of your discomfort.

You shift your back uncomfortably and he watches you reposition on the mattress before you look at him apologetically. “Sorry. My wings-”

Miguel doesn’t let you finish as he was already manhandling you so you are lying on your stomach. A soft smack on your bum has you gasping.

“Miguel!”

He only chuckles before two large hands grip on your waist, his fingers are trying to memorize the feeling of your skin under his touch and you just let him. Miguel lifts your hips up and pulls you flush against him.

Your tiny fingers search his bed blindly for the enormous pillows and when you found one, you pull it underneath you, where your torso collapses. He watches as you smooshed your cheek against it.

You’re too adorable for your own good.

“Not falling asleep, are you?” He asks, purposefully making his voice louder. “It’s rude to fall asleep while fucking.”

He saw your wings twitching, the tips swooshing to hide your face from him. “I’m not!” It came muffled.

The calloused surface of his palms explored your back, his brows rising appreciatively when your entire body responds to him as he gently rubs the base of your wings.

“Like it?”

You shift your wings and you look at him from your shoulder, your eyes following every stroke. “Mhm.”

The bed dips when he leans down to plant a kiss on the base of your spine.

He grips the back of your thigh and he slides his finger against the slick dripping on your skin. His cock flares angrily at the sight of you. Miguel strokes himself and guides the tip to your entrance but he underestimates your wetness as he easily glides, going forward and hitting past your throbbing clit and bumping on the pudge of your belly.

“What-” You try to take a peek but a firm hand lands just between the base of your wings, keeping you pressed on the pillow.

Again, you feel the moist warmth brush on your skin but this time, it is lodged on your entrance.

“This might hurt a bit, firefly.” Miguel says, his voice deep.

Your reaction came swiftly just as Miguel managed to pop the head in.

“M-Miggy!” You sobbed.

Miguel tried to hush you with his hand rubbing patterns on your waist. He glances down and now that he does, the size he’s trying to shove in looks ridiculous compared to your stature.

He sinks in slower, too slow for his liking but he’s putting you over his needs at the moment.

You writhe on the pillow trying to muffle your cries, not wanting Miguel to get too worried and eventually pull out. Your knuckles turn white by how hard your fists gripped the sheets.

“Almost there.” He murmurs.

“‘S not all in?” You whine at him, eyes all red and puffy. “I can’t take more.”

Miguel stops pressing in, withdraws slightly and shallowly thrusts on you.

“I’ll do it in one go.” He tells you.

It scared you but you figured it would be better, like ripping a band-aid.

You brace yourself for the incoming pain.

He grabs your waist tightly, his blunt nails leaving marks on your stomach. The shallow thrusts continue, as if he’s building up to it.

It was swift, his cock plunging deep until it kissed your cervix. You let out a voiceless scream. Your thighs twitch as you are stretched to your limit.

Miguel reaches for your clenched fist and he slots his large fingers between yours, the other hand reaching to rub on your clit. He grits his teeth, his willpower thinning. “You alright?”

There was no response from you and Miguel almost considers pulling out and trying again another time when you raise your head.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, your cheeks streaked with tears, your lashes have clumped up, all wet and alluring.

“I didn’t want to hurt you more than I have.” He says, a soft smile that he reserves only for you was present.

You huff, much to his surprise and you slump your cheeks back on the pillow.

Did you want him to move?

“Should I?” The cocky grin is back on Miguel’s lips.

You only hum in response.

It was yet again a shallow thrust, he barely moved.

“Miggy-”

“I know, firefly.” He cuts you off.

And the thrusts eventually grow faster and rougher.

To the point that the bed groans with the force of Miguel’s movement.

And he makes you take it all, bullies your cunt into the shape of him inside you.

Your breath hitches with every jerk of his hips, your ass jiggling with every motion.

A particular moan is ripped from you when he drags his cock out slowly, letting you feel all of him and he sinks himself right back, his skin slapping against yours. Your wings flap uncontrollably, every feather shivering.

“Miguel…Miguel.” His name spills from your swollen lips like a prayer.

And the feeling of falling returns as Miguel pounds on you. Your velvet walls clamp on him, driving him mad.

Your twitching does not stop and your voice grew louder and almost pleading. He tilts his head to the side to avoid being hit by your wings and in the spur of the moment, he reached for them and held the base of your wings with a single hand.

The action takes you by surprise that you explode in the purest form of ecstasy.

Miguel groans and his hips falter for a second.

You flutter hard around him, wrapping him in your tight heat. He throws his head back, so lost in your warmth that he almost misses how your essence spray on his meaty thighs.

“Fuck.” He drawls, watching your quivering thighs as they get soaked. His grip on your wings tightens and his other hand presses on your back, angling your hips better for him and he plunges his cock inside you, your juices flying and smearing on his abdomen, sliding on the ridges of his stomach.

A distressed and overstimulated cry leaves you as the flames of eroticism lapped at your skin.

“Y/N—fuck!” Miguel slams his hips hard and stays there, the head pressed hard against your cervix, almost bruising it, and with a guttural groan, his cum spurts inside you. Filling spaces you didn’t know were still there, the rest of it spills out, copious amounts dripping down your thighs.

Miguel lets go of your wings and they lay floppily on the bed. He then reaches to rub your bulging belly, still feeling himself deep inside you and the astonishing load he deposited in your belly that formed a small pooch after he pulls out.

You are too exhausted to question when Miguel scoops you into his arms, carries you to the bathroom and sits you on top of a pristine clean toilet lid. You admire his frame as he fiddles with the shower.

He really has a really good anatomical structure, doesn’t he?

What a well-defined gluteus maximus.

Miguel wordlessly scoops you in his arms again, pausing only as he double takes to see if that was really his spent on top of the lid. Something warm trickles on his abdomen and he glances between your legs and that answers his question.

Your feet soon meet the damp bathroom floor and warm water showers on your skin. Miguel joins you and upon instinct, you lean back on him.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks softly as he guides you so you are facing him.

“I did.” You stand on your tippy toes and even then, it was not enough as he had to lean down so you could rest your arms on his shoulders. “Thank you, Miguel. Not just for the mind-blowing sex but for taking care of me.”

He chuckles at your words and you can’t help but admire the laugh lines that surround his eyes. “It’s nothing. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“I appreciate it.” You peck his lips and you turn away from him to grab the shampoo bottle. “But let’s skip the bedroom activities for now. I have listed things I’ve been wanting to try.”

He helps lather the shampoo in your hair, giving you a massage while doing so. “Wouldn’t really need the bedroom as I could just bend you over wherever but what else do you want to do?”

The excited hum you gave almost made him regret asking. You were waiting for him to ask, goddammit!

“I wanna go wine tasting in a vineyard.” Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad. “And get drunk.”

“Ay, por Dios!”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

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