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bluenotes75 · 11 months

Text

Trust

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader Synopsis : ''I messed up princesa, I messed up bad.'' wc : 1,6k Warnings : spoilder for atsv, angst, THEY ARE AROUND 19 YEARS OLD, possessiveness, this is angst but like good one, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3

You glanced at your phone for the hundredth time this minute.

Still no sign of life from Miles.

You were worried, more than you should as you had seen him for the last time the previous day. Yet, you were used to texting your boyfriend every day. It was now nighttime and he had not answered any of your messages. You scrutinized with a frown the last texts you had sent him. He had left you on read.

Miles never left you on read.

Well, he did but only for two reasons. First, when he was mad at you. Thus the first contradiction because the boy was rarely mad at you. Even if he was, he would always confront you directly and talk things out. He hated being on bad terms with you. Life was already rough without you by his side and he wouldn't let anything strip him of any quality time with his girl.

The other situation was is… street activities with his uncle. He used to disappear for days without telling you why, convincing you to not get concerned about him. However, after that one night when you yelled at him, crying, for worrying to death after he ghosted you for two days straight, he promise to always send a quick message to tell you when he would get really busy.

So as you sat on your bed, plunged in the darkness of your room, you knew that none of these cases applied to the current situation. You two hadn't fought and he hadn't told you anything about his prowler activities. Well, nothing that you knew of, which left you insanely troubled.

Your last words together were when he left for a party the previous night. You were supposed to go with him but dropped at the last minute because your mother felt sick. You preferred staying by her side, making sure she get better. At first, Morales wanted to stay with you and spend the night at yours, but you refused. You couldn't remember the last time he got to catch a breath and just enjoyed life like the young man he was. He was always either hanging out with you - making sure you were safe by the same occasion- or working with his uncle. So like the good girlfriend you were, you convinced him to go to the party without you. You just wanted him to have fun and even though he was reluctant, he couldn't say no to you.

Since then you had heard nothing from his side. It was already far in the night and you should be sleeping, but you couldn't close an eye.

At this point, you were contemplating directly calling his mother or even his friends. But you knew Miles despised you talking to other guys. Even if they were his own friends.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a bang on your window. You jumped at the sound and gawked when you catch sight of the boy tormenting your thoughts out of the corner of your eyes.

You hurried up and opened the window for him and he stumbled inside your room looking…awful. You could see the dark circles painted under his eyes and the frown settled on his forehead. Before you could say anything, he clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging your body to his. He pressed your bodies tightly against each other, leaving no room for anything else and the heat of your skin warmed the iciness of his.

You were left speechless as he leaned down and nestled his face on your chest. This sudden display of physical affection was unusual from your Miles. You were the one initiating the cuddles, the kisses, the hand-holding. So you couldn't help your heart from fluttering at this new attention. However, the feeling quickly vanished as you remembered the context. Your worry came back like a slap on your cheek.

“My love, what's going on ?” you broke the silence and wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him back, sensing that he needed it.

You received the silence treatment.

“Miles,” you frowned and leaned back to look at his face, only for him to stop you by tightening his arms around the low of your back.

“You haven't answered any of my texts since yesterday, what happened? Is it your uncle? You can talk to me. ”

He took a deep breath against your skin but still left you with no explanation, which made you upset.

“Miles, you can't just disappear for a whole day and come back as if it was nothing !”

“Lo siento Mami, I messed up,” his pained voice came out muffled by your shirt. You scowled at his words. ‘uh ?’

“What do you mean ?”

''m' so sorry. I messed up princesa. I messed up bad.''

You moved your hand to his hair to caress it and comfort him.

''What did you do ?''

''I-don't make me say it.''

Whatever he has done had to be really bad for him to be that panicked. You could definitely tell that it had been eating him all day.

''Tell me,''

''….I messed up last night, because of another girl.''

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, your hand froze in his hair. All the worries slipped out of your body as your blood ran cold. This couldn't be what you thought right?

''W-what ?''

''I kissed another girl.''

There it was.

Your hands fell to your side as your heart dropped. This was the last thing you could have ever imagined. You took a shaky breath trying to process the wave of emotions that invaded you, but your stare was already lost in the wall facing you.

Sensing your lack of reaction, Miles leaned back to look at you.

''You don't know how much I regret it-''

''Let go of me.''

The boy tensed in your arm at the unusual coldness of your voice.

“No mami, let me explain-”

“Let me go !” This time you yelled.

You thought back to all his possessiveness. Him not letting you talk to your guy friends. You thought back to these sleepless nights you spend worrying about this safety, just like tonight. To all these efforts you pulled to break the wall he build around him after the loss of his father.

All that for him to fumble and betray you in the end.

You felt your eyes water but you refused to cry in front of him. He couldn't see you weak. He couldn't see how much he had wounded you.

“Get out,”

“I won't, you can't end us.”

“What?'' You scoffed at his nerve. ''You ended us the moment you prioritized having fun over our relationship. Get out !”

Yet, he stayed still.

And that's all it took for you to lose it. He didn't have enough of betraying you, now he had to stay and insensitively watch you break down. He was a mess on the inside. He had never seen you this upset, and he loathed himself for being the cause of it.

“How could you do this to me !” Tears rolled down your cheeks.

There, you had failed to maintain your facade and Miles watched in horror as you fell apart in front of him. Through your blurry sight, you didn't notice that he was also crying. He stood there, towering over you, eaten up by remorse. He was supposed to protect you. He had accepted the prowler job to protect both you and his mother, but he had done the total opposite.

But he couldn't bear to lose you.

He let go of your waist and wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop you. You tried to escape his hold but he was too strong.

“Querida, mirame por favor. I will make it up to you. I'll buy you everything you want. Tu eres mi mundo and you know-” he tried but you wouldn't hear anything.

“Who do you think I am? You can't buy me with money! Stop being selfish and leave !”

The boy tried to make eye contact with you but you looked sideways, taking deep breaths to calm down. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions that you didn't know what to feel anymore. However, you knew you couldn't bear to see him anymore.

For some reason, Miles seemed to catch the message as he finally let go of your hands and stepped back.

''I hope you can forgive me, mami.''

''Don't. I hate you. I wish I never met you.''

You spat those words purposely to hurt him. You didn't mean them at all. If anything, you still loved him as hard as before. Yet, when you noticed his hurt expression, it brought you a bit of consolation. It was tiny and it only lasted a second, but it was something.

You turned your back to him and eventually, you heard the window open and close behind you. Only then, you tumbled to your knees and let all of your tears fall, becoming a sobering mess in the silence of the room.

You had heard a lot about heartbreak. From your friends to your mother and even your aunt. What you didn't know was how aching it would be. Because even after he betrayed you, even after he made you feel like you weren't enough, you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster for Miles.

#miles molares #miles earth 42 x reader #miles earth 42 #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #atspv #spiderverse #prowler miles #prowler miles fanfic #spiderman #prowler!miles #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse

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kurogxrix · 10 months

Text

Charm’

Footballer!E-42 Miles Morales x reader

IN WHICH despite the amount of fame and fangirls that your footballer boyfriend Miles receives, he never fails to remind them that he’s yours and yours only at the end of the day.

A/N: this is a rushed ass wip that i wanted to finish, so don’t expect much😭

The yelling and high-pitched crying has been going on for a solid minute now, and the red carpet laid between the crowd control barriers has yet to be occupied. It was always this way, fans crying out their love to Miles before the man could even leave the building, then yelling some more as the poor man simply walked down the short hall to reach the comfort of the black limousine that was always awaiting him 20 minutes before his appearance.

From behind the shut doors, a suited Miles was mentally preparing himself for his entrance. If he had known that this was the reality of fame, he would’ve never signed the contract in the first place. Though who is he even kidding, anybody would have taken the chance to play for their favourite football team if they could. Hell, he would’ve signed the contract for any team at this point, it was his childhood dream to play in a professional football club - and he was sure that it was many other kids’ dream as well.

Miles couldn’t help but close his eyes for reassurance, begging for his mind to concentrate on anything else but the uproar behind the closed doors that stood just a few metres away from him. Clouded by awe, the obvious first thing that his mind could find to distract himself was you. Lord, he even had to run a hand down his hair to stop his thoughts from running too far.

You and Miles had been together for 3 years now, that was 2 years before he got signed in the team, and one year into his famous days. Sometimes he’d wake up and raise his head towards the sky to utter a prayer, thanking a god that he didn’t believe in for having you stay by his side despite the ups and downs.

Miles walked towards the nearest body mirror, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tiled floor as he did so. He made sure to check himself out one last time to see if he looked presentable, he sure as hell wasn’t about to leave the building with a crumpled suit, that wouldn’t look good on the photos now would it?

As Miles neared the exit again, a familiar tune caught his attention from beyond the closed doors. A melody that he could recognize from millions of others, one that he’d stay up relistening to with you past midnight as you both failed to fall asleep. The hypnotising voice that would fill his playlist beyond the never ending lists of rap songs, Rema.

Miles shut his eyes for a split second, reliving all the singing and laughing-filled moments shared between the both of you as this song played in the background. Taking a final deep breath, Miles finally grounded himself enough to push past the doors. It didn’t even take a millisecond for the roaring of fangirls to erupt, and his foot had yet to even step ground on the outside of the building.

The camera flashes didn’t wait for him either, blinding him before he even had the chance to step foot on the carpet. Miles would beg to accept that he was used to it now, he’d love to say that he had gotten used to it now after a year of living through it. Though he’d be a liar to admit so, and everything just feels so overwhelming.

Nevertheless, the striking smile on his face never faltered, and he looked cunning to the very eye. He stood there unmoving for a couple of seconds, letting the cameras capture every good angle of his before they swarm him on the carpet. Miles can’t help his eyes from trailing into the crowd. The very same brown iris widening at the sight, unable to help the deep chuckle that escapes within him.

A swarm of women, including a couple of men, yelling at his name. Some of them have hefty signs that are raised up for him to see, and he laughs at the outrageous things that are written on them. Their confidence blows at Miles, how in hell can anyone go out in public while holding a sign filled with such filth. It makes him shiver at the fact that those things are written about him, but a warm smile makes way to his face as he skims through the “I Love You” ones.

He too, loves his fans as much as they adore him. Even through the rather explicit messages that they leave him, he loves them throughout. Beyond the hate that he inevitably received after becoming a public face, Miles must admit that the love is much rewarding. It soothes a piece of his heart that has been tainted by the stress of being a footballer, and it’s even better when he catches children looking up to him with a miniature version of his jersey on. It envelopes his heart with a warmth that he can’t even grasp.

A sudden movement strays from the others, and it catches Miles' attention. If it wasn’t for the blinding flashes of the paparazzi and the thousands of screeching fans, he would’ve definitely noticed the limousine waiting for him at the end of the line, but he feels his heart stammer as the driver delicately opens the back door.

Sure, on the outside, Miles’ may resemble a stoic guy. His resting bitch face does his kind heart little justice, and the two fine braids that accompany his fade just boosts his intimidating look. On the inside, Miles feels his heart pounding uncontrollably at the sight of you waiting in the ride for him. You’re seated at the other side of the open door, keeping a place for him besides you.

A small smile rises on Miles' face, and a wicked idea brews in the back of his head. He walks a bit faster towards his car, confusing the cameramen and the people that are throwing themselves above the bars just to get a touch of this man. However, when he reaches the car, you’re shocked when he motions for you to grab onto his hand.

Sure, yours and Miles’ relationship was never kept at bay from anyone. You’d been with him since before his fame, and he’d be a loser to keep you in the dark now that he was famous, with your consent of course. It wasn’t unusual that Miles’ would often get questions about you during interviews, and you’d often find yourself smiling at the TV as you watched him answer them with pride.

Though this was different. You’d never accompanied him out to events, yet alone on a carpet walk. It had nothing to do with Miles but all with you, you weren't all the shy on a usual, but almost afraid of the camera’s. You’d seen the way they’d flash attack your boyfriend from behind the closed car windows, and sometimes you feared that they’d end up snapping a shitty picture of you, post it and then you’d get burnt on the internet.

The web wasn’t a nice place and you knew it, plus with the thousands and jealousy-infected women out there, you just knew that the things they’d say were going to be more than nasty. Though as you watched Miles’ ‘there’s no pressure’ smile and his soft hand reaching out to you, you decided to push those fears away.

“Hey ma,” Miles spoke softly to you, the charm in his voice unavoidable as he stared straight into your eyes. It was hard to only stare into those eyes of yours, because once Miles had helped you out of the car, he couldn’t help but notice just how stunning you were on this night. Not that you weren't usually eye-catching, he believed that you were the most beautiful woman to ever grace this earth, though something about this newfound confidence just made you so much more attractive.

“hey..” You were clad in a skintight, dark blue dress that had been gifted to you by none other than Miles. He’d smooth talk you through the “here’s a beautiful dress for a beautiful girl”, in all of his sap. The opera gloves were just as dark as the dress, and the light reflecting off of it gave the blue colour its stunning shine. Miles was enamoured by you, his brown iris unable to leave your form as you stood on your Smiling Melody platform heels.

Miles loves everything about this moment, from the way you dressed so chique despite your sole aim tonight being to pick up Miles from here before dipping back home. He loved how extra you were, always urging to be the best dressed even if it was for a supermarket trip. Miles loved how that shy smile of yours never left your face as you continued to stare at him.

The chorus of cheers from behind the both of you broke you out of your trance, and finally, you collected the courage to turn around and face everyone. Miles’ warm palm found a home within your lower back, and the comforting presence of it was enough to ground you. You knew that he was looking at you with that lovesick expression of his, you didn’t even need to glance up at him to be sure.

The middle of the carpet found you well, and an unfamiliar feeling surged in your chest at the sight of so many people. So many cameras and so many eyes fixed towards you, like your place didn’t belong next to your boyfriend that stood right besides you. Though you tried to keep the thoughts at bay, there were too many things to look at and too many things to concentrate on. It was overwhelming.

But through your concerns, Miles just knew how to appease your thoughts.

Ending the night with Miles kissing you before the very cameras was not how you had expected things to go. In fact, you were sure that he’d angled the both of you to face them, instead of trying to shy away. He didn’t want to hide you, and he wasn’t. The excessively loud roar that broke the crowd once more now fell pridefully to his ears.

He wanted to show you off to the world, show these people around the globe that they stood no chance besides you. He wanted the images to hit the news, be the main title of next week's People magazine. Miles’ wanted nothing more than having these girls holding up those outrageous signs to go back home with disappointment swarming their chests as they realise that he’ll only ever be with you, as mean as it sounds.

You didn’t either expect the night ending up with you and Miles unable to keep your hands off of each other during the ride back home, him whispering all sorts of blarney talk into your ears as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, but that’d be a magazine-cover drama for another week.

For now, you’d enjoy your giggle-filled ride back home as you both unceasingly requested for the chauffeur to replay the previous song. And amidst his annoyance, he had no other choice than to bother each time the song ended to press backwards on the limousine’s tactile screen. The music was a little too loud for his taste, but that’d be something that you could care about tomorrow morning. For now, you’d be too busy enjoying the tunes of Rema’s Charm with Miles to bother about anything else.

IK there’s not much actual footballer!miles but this is just some sort of intro to the AU, if i choose to continue it…

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #footballer!miles morales #footballer!miles #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales x you #atspv

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hatchetfield-scarecrow · 11 months

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Is this Miles or me?

#spiderman #margo kess #hobie brown #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #smatsv #atspv #gwen stacy #peter parker #peter b parker #miles morales #im not super mad at them #but like????#im kinda mad

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clemleur · 10 months

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e!42 miles with a soft girlfriend

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

e!42 miles with the sweetest girl in the neighborhood

e!42 miles with a girlfriend who loves baby pink and blue (your most consistent nail colors)

e!42 miles with a girl that writes poetry and sticks love notes in his locker

e!42 miles whos mother adores her and thinks that if anybody can even miles out, its her

e!42 miles who pretends to be all hard to protect his family, including you, but really is just a soft baby who lives for laying his head in your lap while you redo his braids

e!42 miles who'll drive you up to the nice neighborhoods of new york after you tell him how much you love nature and miss the pretty parks in brooklyn before everything went to shit

e!42 miles who dreams of getting you and mama rio out of brooklyn and somewhere nice. somwhere safe.

e!42 miles who's addicted to kissing your soft, plush lips all the time and who'll pout if you dont give him a kiss right away

e!42 miles who tells you to focus on your studies and not worry about a job, that everything you need he'll cover

e!42 miles who follows on his promise, always surprising you with the necklace you saw in a storefront or new hair clips replacing the ones that previously broke

soft!girlfriend who gets on e!42 miles about not slacking on his studies after he doesn't show up to class a few times from his prowler duties

e!42 miles who tries to keep his prowler duties seperate from you but you're nice, not dumb and is fully aware of all that he does

soft!girlfriend who tries not ot be angry e!42 miles for what he does, knowing that hes just trying his best in the shit world you live in

e!42 miles who has a silent understanding between the two of you, that if you don't talk about it then he won't either

e!42 miles who knows that you know he loves you more than words and vice versa

#hes so pookie yall gotta let him cook #miles morales #e!42 miles morales #atspv #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales fic #miles morales fluff #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x black!reader #across the spiderverse

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osteichthyens · 10 months

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i watched the new movie

#spiderman across the spiderverse #atspv #spiderdads #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #they're silly

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sweetyluvs · 10 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ young & dumb

Gwen Stacy x fem! reader

You’ve never truly talked to Gwen Stacy.

You both have four classes together, which is quite a bit, but you didn’t truly ever speak with her. You knew her name, what she looked like, who her best friend was— but it was difficult to not know that.

To you, she was a flustered, shy, word-sputtering, red faced mess. a socially awkward teen, which is universally known to be extraordinarily common. It was only when you thought your perception of her was wrong when you saw her conversing smoothly with a group of people.

the smile on her lips took over her whole face, the gap between her teeth visible, eyes gleaming with amusement during the time she cracked jokes. She was completely different around other people than she was with you. She didn’t profusely sweat, turn red, her tongue didn’t tie and she surely doesn’t trip on her untied shoelace’s. You wondered if she didn’t like you, maybe she didn’t want to spend a second near you— but that thought drowns down when you recall the many, many moments you’ve caught her blue eyes on you.

Staring so intensely you had felt as though she was studying you. your every feature, your movements.. it was strange, and it made you uncomfortable. you would lock eyes with her for two seconds before her face would light aflame and she would whip her head away— trying to not look back in order to avoid your eyes.

You’ve only had four “conversations” with Gwen— two of them being you asking if she’s okay after she brutally fell face smack to the floor.. it was interesting.

yet, it was the way her hues bore into you that left a strange knot the the very pit of your stomach. a strange flush of confidence— even if Gwen did not enjoy your company, it was interesting knowing she looks at you, at the very least, thirty times a day.

𓅪

the pace of the moving hallway was leisurely.

a sluggish atmosphere covered everyone, as it was Friday, the day just before a three day weekend and no one was interested in anything other than going home.

You, on the other hand, wished you had the blessing of parting from your school when the bell rang at 3:40, but you do not.

After school activities are unworth your time, and you wished you would have never agreed to participate.

A sigh escaped your mouth upon arrival of your second to last class; aka, everyone else’s last class.

Algebra.

your nemesis— a nightmare in disguise, the devil in a shape. Your hatred for Algebra outweighed any other type of emotion you have. Walking out of the classroom as the bell rings and going home is a fantasy, a petty dream.

a grumble left you after you swallowed harshly, shoving the stuck ball of nervous saliva in your mouth down your throat.

Your hand met the door handle, and you pushed it open. You knew the new seating arrangements were designated for today, so it was no surprise to see everyone in an unusual place.

the tired hues in your eyes snapped to the bored, looking over the shitty drawn classroom and the names placed next to each other.

You caught your name, and your eyes traveled to the name beside you; Gwen Stacy.

You had no quarrel with her, you had no reason to. You only hoped she didn’t laugh at your mathematical failures.

As you approached, you pursued your lips upon seeing her fiddling nervously with anything possible, trying to occupy her unoccupied hands.

You sat beside her, the chair creaking from its old age. the sound of the zipper on your backpack was drown out by the chattering of other students, you pulled out your book and placed it on the table, trying to ignore the obvious glances from the girl beside you.

The both of you sat in silence for a while, due to the math teacher always being late. The students in his class had no proof— but they swear he’s on some kind of substance due to his lack of ability to thoroughly teach his students— including yourself. You blamed him for your horrid mathematical situation, but then again, you could just be bad at it, because other students have A’s.

You saw Gwen pick at her nails, her knee bouncing up and down anxiously. You wanted to begin a possible conversation with her, but you had no clue what i would be about. Math? you wouldn’t know what you’d be speaking of.

your eyes flickered down to her notebook, it was littered with small stickers of all kinds— some of them surrounding the subject of biological science (if you’d guess). Animals, cells, Anatomy..

“is biological science something you enjoy?” before you knew it you had asked a question, tearing the awkward silence and thick air down the middle.

She froze, sweat dripping down her forehead profusely as she began sputtering her words.

“uh— yes— i mean, i guess.. it’s alright— well, yes— it is..” Her voice cracked and broke, it made you hurt for her internally.

“That’s nice. do you volunteer?” you questioned on, truly trying to dissipate the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“yes..”

“that’s really cool. biological science is difficult, you must be extremely smart.” you complimented, smiling at her although she was hiding her face with her blonde hair. She was undeniably beautiful, her eyes were bright and you liked the gap between her two front teeth, it was cute.

you eventually learned she didn’t take compliments well due to her silence.

“um.. do you have any other interests? like out of school?”

“I.. guess..”

The conversation, if it had the privilege to be called that, between you both ended when the teacher walked in, laughing boisterously, erasing what was on the board and writing an equation.

he began to explain it inefficiently, you squinted in confusion.

“and so, X equals A because C is not available as an answer.”

at this point, your eyes began fluttering shut upon the boredom of the class.

before you knew it, you were out cold.

𓅪

a repetitive tapping on your shoulder woke you up. Eyes shooting open.

“um.. you fell asleep, and class just finished.” gwen informed, a sweat drop falling down her forehead.

“oh, thank you for waking me up.” You acknowledged, yawning as you cracked your back.

“uh-um, no problem— no problem..” you caught her eyes flickering to you and away multiple times, making a strange smile fall on your lips.

Gwen was sweet, smart and cute. You think highly of her, and perhaps you should try and speak up on that.

“are you doing anything after school?” you inquire, watching her while she froze. You instantly regretted asking the questions the moment she began to stutter.

“um— no- yes, well, only for a while— not really— but.. no— I..”

She tumbled over every syllable.

“so.. no?”

“yes.”

“would you like to get a coffee downtown at the new place?” you question, tracing her side profile with your eyes.

“um.. sure..”

“wonderful! what about 4:50?”

“okay..”

You were about to say something before your name was called by a friend, catching your attention. You told them to wait a moment, turning back to Gwen.

“I’ll see you there, Gwen!” you smiled, quickly standing. Grabbing your bag you walk out the doors, sending the blonde a final look before making your way to your after school class.

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crxss01 · 10 months

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— Rosa Pastel

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you find out about miles being the prowler which leads to a breakup.

warnings ✧˖ ° reader is given feminine nicknames, angst, a few curse words, toxic relationship, possessiveness, mentions of murder and violence (not towards reader), threats.

m. list, main m.list.

playing ⋆｡˚ rosa pastel by belanova

translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess

most of the time you didn't question all of the things miles said or did, like that one time he beat up another guy for looking at you in a way that according to him was absolutely suggestive or that time he went through your phone when he saw you laughing and smiling as you texted.

"i just don't want anything to come in between us, princesa." he had said when you got mad at him for that. "here you can check mine."

you refused to check his phone and that was something you deeply regretted because maybe just maybe you could've found out about this sooner.

now you stood in-front of him, miles having come through his window unknowingly of your presence inside of his room. you had frozen when you were about to tackle him in a hug, looking at what he was wearing.

this wasn't right.

miles wasn't a criminal. he could be intense and cold to others, but he wasn't one of those people who hurt and killed others. and he most definitely was not the prowler.

"mami, what..." he stared back at you, his mask coming off and his eyes wide.

"miles... what the fuck is this?" you pointed at his suit. "please, please tell me this is some kind of stupid joke."

but it wasn't a joke, you knew that he didn't like jokes. it reminded you of that time that you decided to do a prank on him about you cheating, how badly that ended. with him breaking your phone, you in tears, him blaming you for getting him mad and then comforting you telling you that he didn't mean to blow up on you and that he would buy you a new phone (which he did) and made you promise that you would never prank him like that again but there was a dark edge to his voice. a threat, so you never pranked him after that.

and it took a while but you found out that the new phone was connected to his and he could see everything you did on it, who you called, who you texted, your bank account, everything and when you spoke out to him about it he made up an excuse about how it was for your safety and that he just wanted to protect you.

you saw nothing wrong with that, but now the longer that you stared at him with that suit on the faster that everything was coming back to bite you in the ass.

"i can explain, chiquita." he said, taking your hands in his.

"no!" you pushed him away, taking your hands out of his. "miles, you can't be s—serious." your voice broke.

tú no eres aquel que prometió seria mi superhéroe

was this really the boy you once met? the one who was considered a genius and was appointed to tutor you because you were failing one of your classes? the one who asked you out on a date about two dozen tutor sessions later? the one who didn't kiss you on your first date because his mom said that it was rude? the one who finally kissed you on your fifth date? the one who after 1 year of dating gave you a promise ring, promising to always love and protect you from the cruelty of this world?

why did he promise that when he was part of that evil?

“explain, but… but don’t touch me.” you gulped, suddenly feeling a sense of fear.

“i became this when my dad died, you saw how bad things were going in this city. how evil the people were becoming and—”

“you decided to join them?” you interrupted.

“let me speak, mami.” he had the nerve to demand. “i wanted to protect you and mom, so i needed to become this.” he tried to reason.

“no you didn’t, you could’ve found another way to protect us. the prowler is the biggest criminal right now and you come to me with this bullshit about protecting your mom and me? you protect us by killing? by robbing? and by doing whatever else it is that you do?!” you snapped, feeling anger overtaking your fear.

you had never yelled at miles, no matter how mad he made you, no matter how much he stressed you out by canceling dates without a reason but now you knew why and you knew that this change of tone was not appreciated by him one bit.

“watch your mouth.” he glared at you. “you should feel grateful that i do that—”

“oh, i’m sorry that i don’t like the fact that you kill people.”

“those people aren’t innocent. they—”

“you are not innocent either, miles.” you shook your head.

“mami, i really love you but if you don’t stop interrupting me—”

“what? you will kill me like you did them?” you challenged.

if looks could kill, you would be dead. “imma let that one slide, but don’t do it again. now listen to me, i don’t go around killing people who don’t deserve it. i kill criminals like me, people without a heart, i know i ain’t innocent but i do this for a cause and it is to protect the two most important people in my life right now. you are one of them, princesa. i don’t want anyone to hurt you in any type of way or to come in between us.”

he had said the last sentence so many times before that it was graved into your brain. it hurt a lot because right now you had only one thing in mind.

yo te olvidaré

“you are the only person coming in between us.” you sighed, tears threatening to spill out. “i’m sorry miles, but i can’t do this. i can’t be with you, i don’t know why it took me so long to realize this but what we have isn’t healthy and i also do not wish to be with someone who is a criminal and controls me so much.”

“mami, you don’t mean that.” miles almost sounded like he was begging for you to change your mind but one look at his cold eyes and you couldn’t tell.

me olvidaras

“don’t call me that.” you said, grabbing your handbag. “the start was nice, but it has become too much since then and right now it was made even worse.” you took off the promise ring, instantly missing the shining gold weight on your finger.

you stretched your hand out, passing it to him but he made no move to take it just staring at it so you decided to grab his hand, opening his palm and putting the ring on it before closing the fingers around it.

“goodbye, miles.” you left his room, letting the tears fall free down your cheeks and onto the floor. walking away from all the beautiful and bad memories that you had made with miles.

hasta nunca

“you’ll come back, princesa. i’ll make sure of that.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated! there will be a part 2 ;)

#atspv #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #x reader #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader #42 miles morales #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #miles morales fanfiction #astv prowler #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles angst #earth 42 miles morales #miles g morales

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passwordispassword · 11 months

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SPIDER NOIR I’D DIE FOR YOU !!!!

#I love him he is so cute #The best spiderman #no doubt #spider man #spiderman #across the spider-verse fanart #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #into the spider-verse #marvel #sony #spider noir #spider-noir #fanart #atspv #atsp #itspv #spider-man: across the spider-verse

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avatartophblindbanditbeifong · 10 months

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You guys have no idea how much joy it brings me to see fanfiction for the characters from ATSV following the release of the movie. When ITSV came out, barely anybody was writing for Miles (I can legit name a handful of blogs by name!) let alone Gwen and Peter B. Parker. The tags were pretty much nonexistent. There were tumbleweeds, y’all.

The fact that this movie has brought writers out of hiatus and inspired new writers to explore the wonders of fanfiction and interpret the world in their own way makes me giggle and kick my feet every time I read a new fic.

Also, the influx of ethnic representation in fiction with the addition to Pav, Hobie, and Miguel means the world to me! I’ve seen Filipino!reader, I’ve seen Haitian!reader, I’ve seen the African!reader, AND SO MUCH MORE! I myself am a woman of color; I’m the same race and ethnicity as Miles, so I'm seeing Latina!reader and Black!reader makes me feel so seen by the writers who are also the same as me. I cannot stress how important representation is in the media we consume, and I am so glad we’ve recognized the white coding of "y/n" and reclaimed her/him/them for ourselves.

Anyway, that’s my little PSA/rant. I am so very proud of all the writers who have delved into something new this year with these characters. Writing is so fun, freeing, and expressive, so please keep writing because I sure as hell will keep reading!

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miss-nichita · 10 months

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Miguel O’Hara sketches🕷️

I saw Across the Spiderverse last month but I’m just getting to make fanart of the man who’s been giving me brain rot since 🫣

I think Miguel would love to have café con pan (coffee with bread) in the morning cause WHY NOT ✌🏼☕️ *cough cough* …totally not cause he’s half Hispanic…

Can you tell what bread I have him eat??

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dreamingmantis · 11 months

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Imagine a Miles and Gwen swinging scene that is almost like a dance sequence of weaving and leaping and acrobats, until they begin to whirl around each other as they hang on by their threads, closer and closer and closer and

#this is my beyond the spiderverse prediction #could you imagine the animation?#spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atspv #miles morales #gwen stacy #spider gwen #ghost spider #miles x gwen #gwen x miles #ghostflower #gwiles

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bluenotes75 · 10 months

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Trust (repost)

Repost because the original got labeled even though there's no adult content :(

Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader Synopsis : ''I fucked up princesa, I fucked up bad.'' wc : 1,6k Warnings : spoilder for atsv, angst, THEY ARE AROUND 19 YEARS OLD, possessiveness, this is angst but like good one, cheating, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3

You glanced at your phone for the hundredth time this minute.

Still no sign of life from Miles.

Miles never left you on read.

Since then you had heard nothing from his side. It was already far in the night and you should be sleeping, but you couldn't close an eye.

At this point, you were contemplating directly calling his mother or even his friends. But you knew Miles despised you talking to other guys. Even if they were his own friends.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a bang on your window. You jumped at the sound and gawked when you catch sight of the boy tormenting your thoughts out of the corner of your eyes.

You were left speechless as he leaned down and nestled his face on your chest, right over your breast. This sudden display of physical affection was unusual from your Miles. You were the one initiating the cuddles, the kisses, the hand-holding. So you couldn't help your heart from fluttering at this new attention. However, the feeling quickly vanished as you remembered the context. Your worry came back like a slap on your cheek.

“My love, what's going on ?” you broke the silence and wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him back, sensing that he needed it.

You received the silence treatment.

“Miles,” you frowned and leaned back to look at his face, only for him to stop you by tightening his arms around the low of your back.

“You haven't answered any of my texts since yesterday, what happened? Is it your uncle? You can talk to me. ”

He took a deep breath against your skin but still left you with no explanation, which made you upset.

“Miles, you can't just disappear for a whole day and come back as if it was nothing !”

“Lo siento Mami, I messed up,” his pained voice came out muffled by your shirt. You scowled at his words. ‘uh ?’

“What do you mean ?”

''m' so sorry. I fucked up Princesa. I fucked up bad.''

You moved your hand to his hair to caress it and comfort him.

''What did you do ?''

''I-fuck, don't make me say it.''

Whatever he has done had to be really bad for him to be that panicked. You could definitely tell that it had been eating him all day.

''Tell me,''

''….I messed up last night. I touched another girl.''

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, your hand froze in his hair. All the worries slipped out of your body as your blood ran cold. This couldn't be what you thought right?

''W-what ?''

''I spent the night with another girl.''

There it was.

Sensing your lack of reaction, Miles leaned back to look at you.

''You don't know how much I regret it-''

''Let go of me.''

The boy tensed in your arm at the unusual coldness of your voice.

“No mami, let me explain-”

“Let me go !” This time you yelled.

All that for him to fumble and cheat on you in the end.

You felt your eyes water but you refused to cry in front of him. He couldn't see you weak. He couldn't see how much he had wounded you.

“Get out,”

“I won't, you can't end us.”

“What?'' You scoffed at his nerve. ''You ended us the moment you prioritized your pleasure over our relationship. Get out !”

Yet, he stayed still.

And that's all it took for you to lose it. He didn't have enough of betraying you, now he had to stay and insensitively watch you break down. Before you could control yourself, you landed a punch on his chest. Then another, and another one. Soon they rained. They didn't do anything to him. Miles was barely affected by it, and you weren't surprised. He was the prowler, after all, he was not weak.

While he was not affected physically, he was a mess on the inside. He had never seen you this upset, and he loathed himself for being the cause of it.

“How could you do this to me !” Tears rolled down your cheeks.

But he couldn't bear to lose you.

He let go of your waist and wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop your punches. You tried to escape his hold but he was too strong.

“Querida, mirame por favor. I will make it up to you. I'll buy you everything you want. Tu eres mi mundo and you know-” he tried but you wouldn't hear anything.

“Who do you think I am? You can't buy me with money! Stop being selfish and leave !”

For some reason, Miles seemed to catch the message as he finally let go of your hands and stepped back.

''I hope you can forgive me, mami.''

''Don't. I hate you. I wish I never met you.''

#miles earth 42 #miles molares #miles earth 42 x reader #42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #atspv #spiderverse #prowler!miles #prowler miles fanfic #prowler miles #spiderman #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles 42 #miles morales x you #miles x reader

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kurogxrix · 11 months

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Rust In Peace

Hobie Brown x Reader

IN WHICH a day in with your boyfriend Hobie turns into a play fight. However he often tends to forget how strong he actually is, and you suffer the consequences.

[ request ]

“That game’s rubbish, ain’t no spider movin’ like that i’m telling ya’” the deep sound of your boyfriend’s voice made you jump, nearly making you drop your controller as he appeared from seemingly nowhere. Obviously he didn't, because his dripping hair and loosely tied towel that threatened to fall off of his waist told you otherwise.

“How would you know that this is not how spiders move?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, tone dripping with sarcasm as you turned back around to face the small TV screen.

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” Your boyfriend muttered out in a dry tone, much to your amusement. Hobie made his way towards you, both of your backs pressed comfortably against your couch as you sat on the floor. His hair dripped water everywhere, wetting your shoulder as you voiced out your complaints.

The loud sounds of your playstation probably overheating went deaf to his ears as he stared at you. His attention derived from the “Spider-Man 2” game that was currently running on the screen that you seemed so interested in. Without warning, Hobie threw an arm around you, pulling you flushed against his side as he laid his head above yours.

You paused your game immediately as you felt the wet sensation of Hobie’s hair drenching your own curls, creating a wet spot all the way down to the sleeves that covered your shoulders. The shirt wasn’t even yours in fact, the white ‘Misfits’ skull over the black fabric was evidently Hobie’s.

“God, Hobie move!” you yelled, half laughing and half serious as you tried to pry yourself out of his undying grip. Though the man only continued to pull you closer to him, this time, he pointed his hair towards you in an aim of intentionally getting you drenched. Your struggling only got the both of you shuffling along your apartment’s floor, entangling your limps with the unfortunate wires that were lying besides you both.

You could’ve sworn that Hobie had started tickling you at some point, or maybe you’d started laughing louder out of nowhere. You’d never know, Hobie just seemed to have that effect on people. He was everything that’d make a woman giggle, let alone laugh hysterically like you were right now. He was charming and a little bit tough spoken at times, two different natures that clashed together in the most attractive mix possible.

“Oh ya’ want me to move? Sure i’ll move for you sweetheart.” Before you could even register what was happening, his arms unlatched from your shoulders as you back hit the ground with a thud. You managed to save your head from hitting the floor, despite his move being unexpected. You nearly wanted to smash a vase into your boyfriend's face at the sound of his laughter, and damn did his move just declare an open war.

You sat up straight, hair chaotically out of place as you tried to puff it back to what it used to resemble. You crawled quietly towards the sofa as Hobie watched you between narrow eyes, he was no stranger to your intentions.

“I wouldn’t do that if i was you, darlin’' he spoke, but you paid no mind to it as a pillow came flying towards his face. Plainly missing him because of your shitty aim, Hobie’s expression contorted to one of amusement once more. With heavy footsteps, Hobie approached you with a near-maliciouslook in his eyes. And like a prey to a beast, you found yourself being enabled to move.

Soon enough, his large palms were at your sides. His calloused fingers slide underneath your shirt to grip at your naked skin, the rough skin of his hands itching at your own. Without a further warning, Hobie hoisted you onto his shoulders without much difficulty. You struggled in his arms, trying desperately to escape his hold despite the wide smile that occupied your features. A smile that mirrored his own.

To the open eye, it was odd to see a genuine smile gracing the man’s face. If anything, the maximum they’d receive was a cunning smirk or that sly grin of his. Though you were glad to be blessed with the ability to witness such a scene, it made you feel special - and in Hobie’s heart; you were.

Out of nowhere, you felt Hobie’s arms tighten around your middle, forcing a grunt out of you. Your blindness to the situation - given that you were literally facing the opposite side that your boyfriend currently was - made you unaware of his direction. You felt stupid for being unable to detect his route, because this was your own home. His spaced steps made it hard for you to even get a stable look at your surroundings, and unfortunately for you, you had arrived in your bedroom before you could even decipher.

He threw you rather disgracefully against your own bed, making the mattress recoil under the sheer force of his throw. Before you could even fully register things, the tall punk was hovering right atop of you. The sight of the setting sun’s orange hue hitting his dark skin was something that you’d wish to engrave in your brain forever. He was beautiful, an art piece sculpted in some sort of grungy museum itself. Though the sore sight of him made you breathless, for now you had a boyfriend to fight, so it could wait.

His hands attacked you first, finding your sore spots as he tickled you unrelentlessly. God and if you couldn’t breathe from the sight of him before, you most probably couldn’t now. With both your hands at his shoulders and feet at his waist, you attempted to push him off, but damn was he sturdy.

He wouldn’t move, stuck there like a damned plank as he continued to tickle you.

You were laughing, sure, and it was all fun and games until Hobie moved you up by the waist, the top of your head colliding painfully against your headboard. The pain was so unexpected that it took you a moment to react, simply lying there as your chest heaved up and down, trying to catch your breath.

Then, it all hit you. The awful throbbing that came as an aftermath of the hit. The staggering tingle that it left behind as it felt like your brain was having some sort of disco party in there. Then finally came the tears that prickled in your eyes involuntarily, and the unnecessary additional pain that came with you biting your lips and you tried to stop the tears from escaping. Damn did it hurt so bad but you couldn’t even blame Hobie because you knew that it wasn’t his fault.

It came to times like this where Hobie could forget how his spider-man powers enhanced his senses, thus including his strength that was already great before.

“Shit!” he muttered, his brain circuiting ever since he’d heard the loud thud that resonated around the whole room. Hobie had already climbed off of you by now, deciding that It’d be better if he sat besides you for now. He was too ashamed to meet your eyes after that, and it'd make a damn funny scene to you if you weren’t currently suffering. He watched as you cradled your head, eyes closed shut and your jaw tense as your teeth were clanged shut together.

“ ‘M sorry love, didn't think i’d send you up this forcefully.” he apologised genuinely, making a sliver of a smile raise onto your face. It wasn’t often that Hobie did apologise, and hearing him do it now made you feel more things that you wished you did. After a couple of seconds, you felt a pair of warm hands cupping your head. One placed itself on the side of your head, grazing your hairline with his thumb. The other one settled to cradle your head from behind, pressing painfully against your injury.

If it were for anyone else’s eyes right now, they’d judge you for being frail or sensitive. But no one else in this universe apart from the bad-guys knew how painful it was to be sent back by the one and only (not really only, considering they all meet everyday) Spider-Man. Additionally, Hobie wasn’t necessarily shaped like a bodybuilder, but his rippling muscles did little to appease your hit.

“I’m really a knob, ain’t I?” Hobie tried to joke, wondering if it’s better to leave your injury alone or if he should run a hand over it once more to soothe your pain.

“You really are.” you groaned your words through, although the laughter that came with after was enough to reassure Hobie a little. Now that the worst pain had passed, you were contemplating whether killing him or killing yourself before you developed a bump the size of the moon at the back of your head.

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaling loudly as you spread your arms out widely like and angel, taking up all space on your bed.

“Here, lemme help you,” Hobie mumbled with that deep British accent that made your insides flutter. The material of his worn-out sweatpants brushed against your bare legs as he climbed over you again. You’d try to convince him to get a new pair, but he’d always hit you with some ‘consumerism’ argument. Sometimes you really wondered where he got his clothing from, but that’d be a discovery for another time.

With both of his knees firmly planted besides your hips, Hobie hovered over you carefully. He didn’t even need to be sitting across your torso to hold himself up, because being spider-man surely meant that his thighs were finely trained. Next, Hobie grabbed onto your arms, though you were reluctant to give them to him as you brought them up towards your head. Pulling your arms back down, the punk that was currently above you now looked down at you with a long face.

“Cmon love, y’know I'm not gonna hurt ya’. Unless you’re into that, then we can totally arrange something.” he flirted, as suave as usual.

You fluttered at his words, finding it harder to decipher his intentions now. Hobie grasped your timid state to his advantage, taking your wrists into his hands again. He brought them up to your torso, cross-crossing them so they laid on the opposite shoulder. You bit your lip as you tried to retain your laughter, having now caught onto his intentions. Of course, there could be no other than Hobart Brown in this universe to injure you, then put you in a cartoonish vampire pose.

“We all lay here today-“ Hobie started, his deep voice wavering as he tried to retain himself from chuckling. “to honorate the unfortunate, sorrowful, forlorn, unluck- OW!”

Hobie rubbed his arm dramatically where you had lightly slapped him, having it of listening to him sputter a bunch of synonyms and what not.

You broke character for a second, seconds after having decided to play into his childish game, you smiled at the sound of his suffering. Once your smile faded and the unseen glare that Hobie sent to you had diminished, he began again.

“As I said, the unfortunate death of my poor girlfriend. Who she, died of an injury to the head, the perpetrator is still unknown to this day! Rust in peace.” he cried out, voice full of humorous emotions. God, he was so out of his own character that it made you want to burst out laughing, but for now you had a crowd to entertain. Even if that crowd was the bits of dust that flew ‘round your room.

“I’m so sorry to disrupt your little Bram Stoker fantasy, but I'm no Dracula. Normally, dead people aren’t posed like this.” you finally opened your eyes, pupils pointing towards your torso, your weirdly placed arms being in the spotlight.

“How’d you know, you’ve never been dead?” he sassed, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

“I’ve been to a funeral or two, m’sure that I know more than you.” you rebuked, lowering your arms and untwisting them from one another to lay them upon your stomach. Where they should’ve been.

“Wow edgy,” he rolled his eyes playfully at you, a menacing grin taunting his lips. “And excuse me for my lack of knowledge, but I'm pretty sure dead people can’t talk.”

At that, you simply stared at him with your mouth agape. Like a fish out of water, he mocked your action by recreating it. You winced as you tried to slap him upon the arm again, only for you to end up digging the throbbing part of your head down into your pillow. At last, Hobie finally softened at the sign of your fact twisting in an uncomfortable expression.

You didn’t acknowledge the sound of him leaving the room, his bare feet and sense of tranquillity created a cocktail of perfect stealth as he walked off across the concrete floor. You did, however, feel the sudden sensation of his hand pulling your head up. Then came the painful press of a freezing slip upon the back of your head. It stung at first, but you knew that it’d soon come to soothe your affliction.

You sighed in relief as you felt Hobie joining you down onto the bed. His antics were funny at first, but now you were just tired. You couldn’t wait for sleep to find you, no matter how hard it has been for you recently. Your eyebags are no stranger to yourself, and Hobie is no blind man after all. His hand cradles the back of your head as he finally lies down besides you, urging you onto his chest as his other hand lays behind his head.

Even in such an intimate position, he manages to look casual. Once your head dips to his chest, you’re already half-gone as a midday slumber engulfs you into its arms. Hobie grins warmly to himself, his hand holding the ice pack softly against your head as your head goes limp from the loss of consciousness. Chuckling to himself, he allows himself to close his eyes at his turn, though sleep does not find him. Spider-Man has no time for sleep, because even off duty, he has his own matters to attend.

For now, he’s not busy saving civilians from raging monsters, or travelling throughout the spider-verse to aid other spiders. For now, his mission is to keep that damned ice pack from sliding off your head, and he’s adamant on completing his job.

i was supposed to post this like 2 days ago but each time i had to edit it i kept on falling asleep😭

#hobie brown x reader #hobart brown x reader #atspv #atsp #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown #hobart brown #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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deziiwithtwoiis-official · 5 months

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E42 miles morales headcannons

requests r open please request stuff I'm so bored

mk so miles doesn't let you buy ANYTHING. You're his and he'll be damned if you have to pay for something. Especially with clothes. He loves seeing you in clothes he bought for you and in his clothes.it doesn't matter how much you insist on paying the answer is absolutely no.

Hes definitely the jealous type. Like he absolutely hates seeing other people get a little too close to you. Pda is a big thing with him. He needs everyone to know you're his. Has broken someone's nose for flirting with you before.

Hickeys. Do I really need to explain. He leaves them everywhere. In visible places and places only he can see . Absolutely adores seeing them turn various shades of dark red and purple. Traces his fingers over them while cuddling with you. The first time he left one you let out a slight wince and he panicked thinking it hurt.

Miles is a dancer. Not In public but behind closed doors he loves to listen to music and dance around with you. A couple of times he's come over really late after a long night of prowling and sees you awake waiting for him. Headphones in and smiling. He takes one from you putting it in his own ear and takes your hands pulling you to your feet and dancing. Spinning you in circles until you're a smiley giggly mess

Literally has so many pet names for you. Both in English and Spanish. Mi hermosa , princessa , amor, novio/a ,angel, sweetheart, baby. Hes the kind to teach you phrases and words in Spanish if you don't already speak it. If you do he absolutely loves talking to you in spanish.

N e ways guys that all 4 now lemme know what else yall want.

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles #atspv #spider verse #miles morales prowler #prowler x reader

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thirstyforkeanureeves · 6 months

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This is what makes us girls

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader - smut

You sneak out while Miguel sleeps, going to the club with friends, only to find someone waiting for you when you try to sneak back. Smut at the end

The reader is a bit of a innocent girl, no serious description of the way she looks so you can imagine yourself as you want to. Will probably write a part two that's only smut

• a bit dark at points • shower sex • fingering • praise • porn with plot

There was always magic in the ways the lights shine when you get drunk. It's like the world gets covered in a veil that makes everything a bit more dreamy, a bit more interesting, a bit more alive.

But for you, a couple more shots after this point, the world always started to become cold, lonely and devoid of its own reality. Like the alcohol wanted to teach you the self-control that you seemed to lack. A couple of shots, that should have been enough. But not for you.

And now the music was too loud, too strong, the lights too bright and all over the place and the warm breeze of the night seemed to be pushing thousands of little needles in your exposed skin.

You can hear your friends having the time of their life on the dance floor, surrounded by their boyfriends, some even husbands, living the nights before the work, marriage and kids catch on to them. Making the memories that will make them smile after 40 years.

And you wanted to have that. You were desperate to live that. Having waited most of your life for a better man, choosing your partners carefully, trying not to throw yourself at every relationship that can hurt you. And that landed you probably the best man on the planet - Miguel O'Hara. The one that always managed to make you too sweet, too bubbly, too child-like just with his presence. But what can be expected of you? You waited so long for someone you can trust, of course you'll be all over him any moment you have the chance.

But sadly that moment wasn't now. And you were left alone on the table in the club, completely drunk, feeling dirty and grimy from all the dancing and sweating, no boyfriend in sight.

You had imagined, maybe too naively, that the perfect man would be all smiles, kisses and sweet caresses into the long nights. Because that was love? Wasn't it?

You were sick of hearing you were too trusting, too kind, too naive. That the world will chew you and spit you out if you continued being this way. Your best friend said it, you ex said it, your mom and dad said it and now... now it was Miguel too.

You weren't at fault for wanting to be nice, for wanting to be kind, knowing that a bit more in the world can help, even if a little. You never knew what someone was going through, so you just tried to go through life as peacefully as you could... only for the weight to fall on you now, in the form of taunts, pesky arguments, stupid retorts about how dangerous reality can be for someone like you.

He could be an ass, that was clear. And you hoped he will be able to understand that side of you a bit better, even if it wasn't now, still someday...

But not tonight. After the 100th argument about you wanting to do something innocent that he turned into a speech about being responsible and taking care of yourself, because he couldn't always be there, you had had enough. And just as he went to bed, softly snoring next to you, used to the calmness you brought him, you got softly up, grabbing some clothes and makeup. You snuk to your friends house, getting ready with them for a night of your so called rebellion against what the world thought you are. They couldn't put you in a box. You were your own person. You were free to do whatever you wanted....

And yet, sitting alone at the table, beyond exhausted and depressed of being alone in the club, you decided that maybe independence wasn't for you. Not tonight at least.

You tried catching your friends attention, hoping they will maybe agree to go home with you or continue in a more quiet, not as depressing place. But they were long gone with the crowds of sweaty bodies, covered by the dim lights of the projectors, in a world of smoke and techno.

So you just texted them that you're catching a cab and going back home.

There was something entirely wrong and lonely, sitting in the quiet cab, all dolled up and sweet as you were, having no man beside you to make you feel safe, to make you feel loved, the same way you loved him. Your thoughts continued getting darker and darker, your little soul having always craved just to be loved, held and appreciated. Why did you think you'll find this in a couple of drinks at the club? Why did you ever think you'll be good with one night like this?

You should definitely start paying more attention to how much you drink.

You stumble out of the cab, barely managing to count the money the guy asked of you, happy that at least he didn't kidnap you or worse... Maybe you should have called Miguel after all? God knows you'll have to do magic to hide from him what you did tonight. Yet as you grabbed the railing of the steps infront of the small apartment building, you wondered if he'll be more angry or disappointed with you when he finds out. Because he always finds out.

The ride in the elevator only cemented the fact that whatever he said, you'll probably cry. You were drunk, exhausted and beyond lonely. All you wanted at this point in life was to snuggle that ridiculously big and strong frame of his, make your bed there and probably die. It didn't sound like a bad way to go out.

You stood for a moment infront of the door, eyes almost empty, hazy and lost, your little figure leaning from leg to leg as you wondered if you should expect something on the other side of it.

You looked down at the little dress you were wearing. The dress Miguel told you you'll never wear without him around.

Well that was a problem...

You prayed he was asleep, prayed you can just hide in the sheets till he left for work so you can clean yourself up and forget this pathetic attempt to prove to him you were independent, strong enough on your own.

And you were, of course you were. Just not as much in the social aspects of life...

The door creaks, you shadow crawling over the floor as you look around like a lost rabbit, skin rosy, legs and arms weak from the alcohol. And you step slowly, staggering just slightly as you put your high heels on the floor to the door, almost planting face down as you tried to keep your balance.

After closing the door and tiptoeing around like a criminal, you soudlessly made your way to the kitchen and living room.

You were getting somewhat confident that you managed to be so quiet till now, maybe you'll get to the bed in one piece. You were almost cheering yourself on as you stepped on the cold tiles of the kitchen... only to freeze in place, head too fuzzy from the shots to produce a proper scared reaction.

His dark, red eyes met yours, swimming with a cold, intense feeling, beckoning you in as in one hand he swirld a glass of whiskey. His torso was bare, sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips as he leaned on the kitchen counter, sizing you up with his eyes, gaze slowly crawling over your exposed skin in the little dress, taking in your disheveled, drunk state.

And you just didn't have a reaction. Maybe you were drunk, maybe scared, or plain too stupid to do anything. But you just stood there, chest softly raising and falling with little, a bit faster than usual, breaths.

"Should I ask the hard question first, or the easy one?" He asks calmly, too calmly, taking a sip of his whiskey, tilting his head almost curiously at you. And you felt shivers run down your little frame, fingers fidgeting behind your back as your fried brain scattered to understand what the fuck he meant by that. Was this a trick question? Of course it was!

He leans slightly forward, putting two hands on the counter as if he was looking down at a child, waiting for some funny answer. And you fidget harder, eyes big, taking all of the world in, cementing in his mind that what you did was more than stupid.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm sure a big, brave girl like you can give me an answer" He was condescending, fully calm. Like nothing was happening. Like he wasn't ready to explode any moment. Or so you thought. Whatever it was, it just jumbled your brain further, sending mixed signals as your stomach churned, yet lava pooled in your abdomen at how confident, at how powerful he was right now. He held all the cards, not like you ever stood a chance, yet now you were more fucked than ever.

"Let me help you, little girl" He said, downing his glass and leaving it on the counter with a click. He knew you were drunk. And he knew how vulnerable, how helpless you got when you drank, how you only wished to be held, protected, hidden from the world till you could gather yourself again. And as much as he loved how sweet, how innocent and honest you could be, now he could only see you as a big, walking target, waiting for something to happen and for him to not be there.

Miguel knelt infront of you, sitting on the balls of his feet as he looked up at you, at your flushed, embarrassed face, slightly lost and nervous gaze, almost chuckling as his fangs poked from his lips. "Let's start with the easy one, since your brain is so dumbed down tonight it can't handle anything"

You wanted to protest. You were still fully capable of understanding what was going on, yet you knew it was meaningless. He was a storm in a bottle, waiting for just one wrong move, any excuse to remind you who he was and what he was doing.

"Where were you, princesa?" he doesn't move his gaze from you. He never does, intimidating anyone by just simply holding steady, confident eye contact. And you brunch the hem of your sweet white dress, swallowing dryly as you knew that he was right - you couldn't answer. Not when you knew he already had all the info from somewhere. He was Spider-Man, there was nothing he couldn't find out.

"What, you scared, cariño? Oh, you should know, I'm not the man you should be afraid of when you go to such places" Miguel chuckles darkly, his eyes glistening red as he lifts his hand and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I advise you to be honest with me" His tone becomes darker, words coming slow and clear as a flame burns in his gaze. "Let's try again: Where were you, princesa?"

You close your eyes, weighning your words, pushed in the corner with no other option than to dig your grave deeper. "I was at the club... with my friends"

You say quietly, voice high, coming out girlish in a way, like you had reverted back in time, standing infront of your parents as you were getting scolded. And he humms amused, his eyes still twinkling dangerously as he grabs your chin gently, tilting it in his direction. "The red lotus?"

The question is clear, easy. Yet so hard, stuck in your throat as you open those big eyes that put him in the ground whenever you did something this dumb.

You don't answer. It wasn't needed, he could read it all on your face.

His face darkens just for a second, his self-control faltering just for a second to betray his true feelings. And you feel your stomach twist, blood run cold. Not because you were scared of him, no, never. But because your gentle, kind mind couldn't bear the idea of disappointing the man you loved with all your heart.

"Miggy-" You try to say something, anything, but he stands up, shushing you with just one dark glance as he goes back to his glass, silently pouring another drink. And you felt your whole being twisting, wishing to just lay down with him, close eyes and dream of his strong embrace around you, where you belonged.

"Do you know what kind of men go there?" He asks a bit louder, not using any of the little nicknames he made up for you, making you freeze, even more guilty now.

He turns, a slight scow on his face that seems to grow with every second as the realization sinks deeper and deeper. A shit hole, a rat house, full of disgusting scum, drugs, weapons, rapists and human trafficking. Like any club in that part of the city. A place for someone either very stupid or very dangerous. And you were definitely not dangerous.

His gaze takes in your figure, sour venom building on his tongue as he looks at your exposed shoulders, soft legs, at your pretty skin and innocent features, only emphasized by that white short dress that he forbid you to wear if he wasn't there. Not because he wanted to be controlling.

Oh he knew how it looked. The big, bad boyfriend, telling his little girlfriend what she should and shouldn't do. But you didn't know these people like he knew them. You haven't seen the cases he has seen, the girls he has saved, the things he's had to do, just to begin cleaning the streets of the same scum that could take you any moment he left you alone. Oh no, he wasn't possessive, he was simply protecting you. And you didn't seem to understand it.

"How much did you drink?" He doesn't even feel like explaining to you how stupid what you did was. No, he was too tired and angry for that. His accusing tone showed it all.

You shift your weight on your other leg, his eyes catching every little movement, nose accustomed to your smell, now filled with the disgusting aroma of booze, cigarettes and sweat of other people. You don't look at him, not even remembering how much you had drank. It was a lot, too much to remember.

He looks at you almost unbelieving, finding it hard to stay in one place as he downs the glass again, leaving it on the counter and marching to you. He grabs you by your shoulders, wanting to shake you, bring you back to reality, but he just stays there, always mindful of his power with you. And you look up at him, unsure, gulping as you meet his dark eyes, see the storm brewing at the surface as he fights with himself to stay calm.

"I'm sorry-" You stutter out, broken, probably too late, as your chest tightens, unable to take a breath.

And in a heap of emotion, used to living in a harsh, scary world, world where no one will cut you slack, no matter how innocent and vulnerable you are, he grabs at the back of your dress, needing to do something, anything. And he rips it open like it was a piece of paper, shoving it off your body.

You gasp, wanting to say something, yet your knees grow weak, scared as you just stay there, leaving him to manhandle you. And Miguel lowers his face, breathing in your neck as his voice sends more than shivers down your spine "Told you you can't wear that fucking dress"

He let's the dress fall to the ground like a rag, grabbing your arm and pulling you with long strides towards the bedroom. And your small, dumb mind can't take what is happening, breaths coming in short as you try to keep up with him, tears already brewing in your eyes. "M'sorry, Miggy. Okay? I'm sorry, please!"

But he doesn't say anything, not even looking at you as he holds your wrist tightly. The only thing you could hear was the way his breathing whistled as he pulled you up the stairs.

He slams the door behind him, grumbling under his breath. And before you know it he pushes you on the bed, almost too roughly as you lose orientation for a second, brain unable to keep with the stress and alcohol. His rough hand is on your face in an instant, holding you in place as he looms over you, inches from your lips as he hisses. "Every fucking time - every fucking time I tell you what goes on in places like this! What men lurk there! I try to drill it in your little head again and again and you just don't fucking want to listen!"

Fat tears roll from your eyes. You always managed to get him angry by being too naive, believing too hard in things he knew this world will never give you... but this was the first time you ever got him to lose his temper. "Miggy-"

You sob, cheeks flushing from the tears as he hovers over you like a predator, ready to tear your troath out : "Don't you fucking start! I've had enough of your whining!"

Your breath hitches, body trembles as he huff in your face, red eyes glowing in the dim bedroom as he stares daggers in your soul. And you swallow pathetically, feeling absolutely helpless, absolutely powerless against this beast of a man.

"I try my damn hardest to protect you! To keep you away from this cruel world!" He hisses in your face and a pathetic whimper falls from your rosy lips. "Do you know how many girls I've saved from places like this!? Do you know how they look when I find them!? Huh? Do you-" He hisses so lowly, lowering further till your noses were touching. And you start feeling like you might suffocate under the pressure, unsure if it was from the alcohol, or you just knew, perfectly well knew what he was talking about. "I find them barely alive! Brutalized! Robbed of everything they are! Do you know how much therapy they need just to go on? You want this to happen to you!? You want me to find you like that as well? Do you know what I'll do if something happens to you? Do. You?"

He barely pushes the last words through gritted teeth, more than fury storming in his eyes. Miguel was a man of few words, choosing to keep his emotions in control in favor of being the bigger person in most situations. A man that had seen hell and came out on the other side.

And there you were his loyal, little girl, always a sunshine for him, always caring for him, doting and cooing at him, always sweet, gentle, kind, believing there was good in everybody.

His biggest fear, his greatest nightmare, seeing you go through what he had went through, what these girls went through, haunting his dreams every night.

He takes in a sharp breath, eyes junping between yours: "I'd kill all of them" He says coldly, not an ounce of regret, dead serious as he stares at you, shoulders tense as if he was ready to go through with it right now.

"Miggy, please" You sniffle, petrified, knowing better than anyone - Spider-Man doesn't kill, never will kill.

"I'll tear every single one of them to shreds" He holds your face tightly, refusing to look away from you: "I'll make them feel every ounce of pain you've felt, I'll make them scream and beg for death. But death will be too kind, too good for them"

You close your eyes, breathing shallow as your whole body trembles under him, unable to take all of this, unable to do any of this any longer.

And he stays there, looking over you, taking you in as he sees your disheveled state, smells the alcohol on your breath, waiting for something.

"Did anyone touch you?" A simple, straight to the point question. And you shake your head no pathetically, wet from tears lips parting as a little whimper escapes your lips. Your mind was too far out, too lost.

"Look at me, doll" He says sternly, squeezing at your jaw. And you open your eyes, unable to hide how scared, how worried and lost you were. "Did anybody touch you?"

"No" You rasp out, your voice betraying everything you were feeling, small hands fisting the sheets under you.

And he looks at you for a second, as if sizing you up, making your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear it, feel it even.

"Why did you sneak out?" A cold, measured question, no room for lies, no room for escape.

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, chest fluttering as you fight the sobs. You didn't want to answer. Didn't want to give the pathetic excuse for an answer. But his piercing eyes left no other option.

"I wanted - I wanted to go out... when you said I shouldn't..."

"And why did I say you shouldn't?" Another straight question. This was an interrogation. He holds your face just as close, not stepping back, the heat of his strong body enveloping you. And you take in a shaky breath : "Because my friends wanted to go to the "Red lotus"

He steps back, getting off you and the bed, running a hand through his face as he breaths out, taking in your petrified form, knowing you were never stupid. You can't be. Just naive. Too good for this world.

And he knew he could be harsh on you. Taking out the frustration of his job, of the way he lived, on you. Because you were so far from anything he was. Anything he had seen. And it left him feeling powerless to protect you, walking on eggshells everyday, just thinking of what might happen to you if he wasn't around, if he wasn't strong enough.

You push yourself weakly on your elbows, looking at him always so expectingly, so innocent, like he was the sun in the sky, like you would do anything he asked of you. And you would. Because that's how much you trusted him. That's how much you loved him.

You bat your lashes at him, black tears running from your mascara, face red and open for him ro see everything. And your little figure, so soft and inviting, helplessly laying on the bed, melts all his anger away. He could never be mad at you. Not when you were so honest, so innocent in what you did.

You just wanted to prove to him you could stand your ground. That you were grown enough to be like any other person. But he knew this perfectly well. He knew you could be more than what this world wanted from you.

But he never wanted that from you. Never wanted you to change. Never wanted you to be anything, but the sweet, kind girl he had fallen in love. The girl that made him believe in good again, that gave him hope that it was worth to fight for this city. His princesa.

"I'm sorry..." You murmur through sniffles for the 100th time and he can't stand this role any more.

He cringes at the way he's been acting, a bit irrational, a bit controlling, a bit lost himself in feelings he couldn't really explain. And he let's out a soft sigh, running around his head as he thinks.

He had been stupid. Not finding a way to explain his reasoning better, to talk to you calmer, like a grown up person, instead of that letting his feelings and morals dictate everything. When life was supposed to be a harmony between it all. Even if he was right, he couldn't prove that by just being harsh and honest. Especially not with you.

So he slolwy crosses the distance between you two, wrapping strong arms around you, pulling you up in his embrace as your legs wrap around his torso and you hide your face in his neck.

"Just... don't ever do that again" He tries to say it gently, but the undertone was clear. You won't be doing it again. Never again.

And you nod, hot breaths caressing his skin as you cry off the pressure in quiet sobs, melting in his protective embrace : "I won't... I'm sorry. I didn't like it. I don't want to go without you..."

His arms tighten around you, head falling in your neck as he breaths you in, trying to push in his memory the way your soft body melts in his, the way it fits so perfectly with his.

"You didn't like it?" He asks quietly, voice soft again and your heart fills with child-like happiness that he wasn't mad again, your alcohol soaked brain just wanting to be loved and cared for.

"No... I didn't like going there alone. Everyone had their partners or just wanted to drink and party... But I always wanted to be there with you. Maybe dance and laugh and stupid things like that..."

He humms at your baby voice, showing him once again how pure at heart you were. You didn't even want to get drunk if it meant he won't be there to hold you.

"Yet you still went..." it wasn't an accusation, but he couldn't help but say it. And you push yourself closer against him, slightly embarrassed, wishing this night could end.

He knows he won't get an answer from you. Knows you did it in affect, angry after the argument you had yesterday about him not wanting you to go to a place like this club. Especially when he couldn't be with you because if his work. So he drops it, but not before asking one last thing: "Promise me you won't do that again, kay? I know I can be overbearing at moments, but I need you to understand that I'm just terrified of the thought of losing you... seeing you end up like all these women I've had to..."

He couldn't finish the thought, the words lodging in his troath as he hid his face in your neck.

You sigh softly, weighing the words, trying to understand their full meaning through the fog in your brain: "I promise"

That's all he needed. He trusted you, he knew you. And he wouldn't question it, knowing your relationship was built on trust and it should stay like this.

He held you for some time like that, just enjoying the intimacy, not wanting to break the little peace you had managed to build within the storm, letting your sniffles calm down as he rocked you gently from time to time.

"You wanna take a bath, princesa? Would be good after a place like that..." Finally he breaks the silence, knowing you didn't like to go to bed dirty.

"Yeah..." You rasp out, not bothering to get off him. "But you should go to bed. You have work tomorrow"

He chuckles at your constant worry, even when drunk.

"I called off the moment I heard you leave through the door. I knew I had to wait for your little naughty self" He answers calmly, noticing how you held him tighter at the reminder of the night, smiling to himself as he carries you to the shower, opting to make this fast, so no bath tonight.

He let's you down on the bathroom counter, gentle as always. Then he unclaps your bra, kissing your forehead as your head lolls a bit tiredly, in a drunken haze. He pulls off your white panties, leaving them to the side as he takes you again, bringing you to the shower as he makes a quick work of his sweatpants, chuckling at the way you eye him up. He hadn't wore his boxers, earlier going to bed butt naked to you, as he mostly preferred.

And the shower goes quietly, with both of you washing your hair. Miguel holds you up a bit so you don't slip or fall, looking at the way the water cascades down your figure, admiring how innocent you always looked when trying to take care of him.

Halfway through he pushes you on the bathroom ledge, taking your loofah and scrubbing you gently, standing on one knee as he works on your legs and tiny feet. And as you look at him with a shy, curious smile, he takes your feet and kisses up them to your knees, holding eye contact with you, basking at the blush that creeps up to your face.

He loves how soft you are for him, how you let him do as he pleases, just because he wants to, because you trust him. And he wants to mend what's broken, to show you you don't need to sneak around him, you don't need to hide from him. So he sits up between you legs, wrapping his arms around the back of your hips, bringing you close as he lips latch in you chest, humming in appreciation as your breath hitches.

Tiny hands come to his hair, at first shy, sweet, but he has taught you well and soon they fist his hair a bit harder, pulling a bit harsher and he means in the feeling, not scared to show you what feels good.

His other hand plays with the nipple of your lonely breast, massaging, fondling, taking in your softness as he literally suckles on you, always a bit possessive in the way he loved. You let out a haply sound, back arching into him as he smiles, lightly bitting at your nipple, fangs showing hungrily as he feels you tense.

"My little girl, always so eager to prove herself" He whispers lowly, pulling your ass to the edge as he kisses softly at your breasts, playing with them for a bit, making you squirm as he looks at the way the flesh molds for him. He licks between the valley of them, tongue sinking to your abdomen, then back up as he shows you just want he's thinking.

You bite your lip in anticipation, his hands grabbing your hips tightly, angling your body so your heat was infront of him, easy to reach. And he kisses at your inner tighs, bitting gently, leaving tiny scratches with his fangs as he doesn't pull his eyes away from your flushed face, taking in every reaction.

"You're going to be the death of me, cariño... You don't know what a man would do for just a taste of the heaven between your legs, for a second in your gentle arms"

And he doesn't wait for an answer, sinking in your heat, feeling your muscles tense instantly, pulling at his hair as he growls. His lips latch on your sweet clit, sucking hungrily, not wanting to waste time in being gentle, yet not rough at all. And he sucks harshly, moaning, tongue darting to your centre, teasing your need as he looks up, lips parted, showing you just how his tongue worked on you as you tried to stiffle a pathetic whimper at the sight alone.

"Look at you, so fucking sweet, so easy to break. What will I do with you, you little thing..." He whispers lowly, voice hoarse as his lips work on your clit, flicking and sucking, keeping a steady tempo as your legs wrap around his shoulders, keeping him in place. You arch your back, needing to grind into him, little hungry sounds falling from your lips, so high and adorable they light his blood on fire.

His right hand leaves your hip, coming under his chin, a skilled, thick finger teasing your entrance before it slowly sinks in, staying for a moment as he basks in the way you flutter around him, the way you try to move your hips to feel more of him.

But he doesn't want to keep you waiting, feeling generous tonight, he adds a second finger, scissoring you for a couple of seconds as he laps at your clit, flicking his tongue. You whine like a cat in heat, pulling him closer by his curls and he obliges, twisting his fingers so he feels that spongy spot higher, under where his tongue worked, and he starts a slow pace, before he let's it fall steadily faster and faster, abusing your tight hole, moaning against you as your whimpers grow higher, needier.

"Just like that, doll. Let me hear all of it. Love it when you squirm for me.." He purrs against you, making love to your heat as he continues looking at you. And it wasn't as much his fingers or tongue, what made your abdomen blossom with need was that gaze, that steady, hungry need in him to make you his own, this dark, hoarse tone, that could make you believe anything he said.

You nod your head pathetically, just wanting to please him as he pleased you, to be his good little girl, let go for a second and forget all about the world outside, forget about all the worries and stress and for a moment be his, completely his.

"Wanna cum for me, you needy thing? Wanna let me taste you as you cum, huh? Go on, sweetheart. Don't think about anything. I'm here, I'll hold you"

You whine like a kitten, your sounds starting to fall with the pace of his fingers that steadily grows faster and faster, fisting at his curls as your abdomen flexes.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Let go for me, princess, wanna see you go dumb on my fingers"

You bite your lips, closing your eyes as you focus on the feeling, legs locking around his head as you hold him like a vice, hips pushing at his face, riding him as you feel the coil tighten.

"Miguel..." You whine his name and he moans at your heat, lapping like a man starved, switching the pace to a faster, more brutal one, knowing you can take it.

Your mouth falls open, a plethora of dity sounds bubbling as you get wetter, grow needier, making his job so much easier.

"Fuck, I love the sound you make, cariño. Can make me do anything just to hear them again" He murmurs, latching on your clit again, managing to flick at it with the same pace his fingers abused your little hole. Your head falls back as a broken whimper escapes your troath. And your hips tense, having a mind of their own as they tirelessly start grinding, meeting his movements perfectly and Miguel growls against you.

"Cum for me, baby. Make me proud"

You nod erratically, tethering on the edge as his words ring in your tipsy mind.

"Wanna make you proud - wanna make you proud, Papi"

The name slips without meaning to. And in other circumstances he would cringe, or be somewhat unsure. But you didn't say "daddy". You said "Papi". Which in a way in his language feels far more normal, far more fitting.

He chuckles darkly against you, not stopping his ministrations, watching you as you open your eyes to look at him, whimpering like a kicked dog, taught to always look at him as you came.

Your hips stutter, losing rithm, yet his hand keeps on working on you as your whole body trembles, mouth freezing half-way through a broken scream. And you tense so much, so harshly you lose your breath, only able to feel. There were no thoughts left, no needs or worries, just a hot wave that washed over your whole body, buzzing to the tips of your shaking legs. And the heat pooled right back in your abdomen, sinking lower where his tongue flicked so fast you lost feeling of the earth beneath you.

It was beautiful really, the way you just froze, as if pushing an enormous weight, his hungry knowing gaze prolonging that tethering till like a bottle, something popped in you, painfully, yet so blissfully squirting in a little, hot stream.

Miguel let's out the dirtiest sound you've heard him make till now, not stopping even for a second as he takes all that you give him. And your eyes cross, lips tremble, as you fist so hard at his hair you must've pulled some hairs from the roots.

"There we go... there we fucking go..."

He finally latches off you, looking at the way you let it all out for him, his fingers gradually slowing down as your whole body trembles, hunched over. And with every little stream he leaves a little kiss at your heat, enamored by the way your body craved him so much it was ready to break apart from the smallest touch.

He let's you ride out your high, your body finally leaning back against the wall, mouth still open as you barely take in shallow breaths. And he slowly removes his fingers, cleaning them off with his tongue as he stands before you. His hand gently pulls your lost, hazy gaze to look up at him, his wolfish smile making your insides twitch.

"What was that about "Papi"?"

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