PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT
Summary: You're working with Butcher and his team since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drown between hatred and your desire to have your vengence, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.
Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Soldier Boy being an asshole, grief, family issues, mention of death, cursing, mention of drugs, unrequited love
Word Count: 2113
A/N: English is not my first language. *We die like men*
Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard
Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America has woken from his 40 years of sleep and it did not even took a big amount of time your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life was consuming you inside since your sister has died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team to found you, turned you into something you couldn't name it anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were and all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had a fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty three years and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.
The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed savage confused animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic nuclear muscled chest ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.
At first, you weren't so sure if Homelander or Ben was worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.
All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.
Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble, you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right to the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time comes. Ben gave you the big eye, almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.
You did not know when that all these things started; when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush to disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you react around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling, but loved it, also despised it and obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heart wrenchingly handsome.
“Hey,” he said mockinly. “Why so excited suddenly?”
You were both grateful and angry to Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of time since he broke Hughie's arm, got a fight with Annie, Frenchie and threw Butcher to the tree,-lucky of him he was on Compound V- so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.
The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.
Checking around nervously you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”
“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”
“What things?”
“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickring with such exciment you might cum any moment..”
Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an unappropiate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.
Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional you should have been an author.”
It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature after all.
“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.
Fuck Butcher.
“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”
“Course I am.”
Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously searching for any sign of the supe.
You followed his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”
“No.”
Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”
“Worse.”
You felt his posture suddenly got serious.
“How?”
“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”
“What happens if you see them though?”
“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face the reality. That’s it."
The way he sounded made you even more curious.
“You sound like you experienced it,” you said raising your eyebrows.
Judging by the way sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself, it was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course It would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.
“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart and I can get whatever I want, sweetheart.”
“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.
Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thoughts for a moment.
“Jealous?”
Looking away, you said “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and wasn't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?
Putting his left hand on your chin sofly, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware the way you look at me?”
With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.
“I dont understand what you mean at all.”
“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.
You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.
Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touched your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.
Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out from your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and the others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, him being that dominant, confident and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.
“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.
You were angry at yourself for being like this, feeling that way. Between all things..your sister and everything happened in the last few months, you let your thoughts to be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies to took over your logic.
As you struggled not melting into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him and hoping it convince him, you mumbled “You’re hurting me.”
His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull one more minute.
He pulled away his hands on you, but remained still.
“How you fucking normals can endure being that weak, huh? You know I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must be taking a great energy and luck to survive.” he said mockingly.
You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest, but a made up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such thing. Supes were not known with reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe, Supes were physically the strongest breed whose emotional and narcissistic fragility suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face with.
You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering potentially to being put in long sleep by the Supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right to the stairs, tightning your grasp on the pistol and holding your breath.
“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.
You turned to him and whispered “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”
“Don’t fucking provoke me.”
“Hey,” you gave him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.”
Just before he say something, you’ve seen the Supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply just did not know how to do. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. Darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught and slammed her on the floor with a furious growling.
A/N: I'm not built for this.
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Remember Me?
Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X AFAB!civillainreader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...
Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.
A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!
Word Count: 6,823
“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter.
“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.
“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?”
“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.”
At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself.
Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.
Is….that…his….yearbook…
It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…
“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture.
“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare.
Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.
Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?”
“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment.
Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation.
Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”
Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace.
“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.”
Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…)
Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”
The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!”
A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…
Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class…
“Miggy~”
The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.”
The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age.
“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements
Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…”
Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest.
“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic.
The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement.
“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them.
“Well…technically…I didn’t”
“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys
Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”
A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.”
Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man.
“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?”
Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…”
There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment.
“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”
“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions,
“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.
“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow.
“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides
Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…”
“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods
“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-”
“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.
Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…
“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.
Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…
Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him.
“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens
Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.
“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!”
Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!”
Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile,
“It’s like density!”
Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…
They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…
Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.
Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…
High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush.
Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same.
“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…”
A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips.
“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt.
“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye.
God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…
Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…
The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…
Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this…
The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…
As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.
“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?”
“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”
The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”
“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…”
“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.”
The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…
“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.
Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…”
Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you.
He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap.
The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.
Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain.
“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”
Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…
“Miggy!”
“Miggy!”
“Miguel?”
Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight.
Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.
“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?
Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do?
“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again.
“I can not believe how different you look!”
“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?
Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious.
“You think I look good?” you ask, playful, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat.
You could eat him alive…and he would let you…
“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…”
“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…
“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.”
“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly.
Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?”
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr
Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again.
“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…”
“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain.
“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…”
Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now.
“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”
Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat.
“I thought you were sweet…”
Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you.
“Could I make it up to you somehow?”
“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”
Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.”
Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest.
“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”
Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect.
Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you.
The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want.
“Miggy, I always like you…just-”
Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more.
“Fuck, miggy~”
Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…”
His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver.
“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass.
A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you.
“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…”
Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…
It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…
Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your licks isn’t lost on him.
“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…
Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses.
“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~”
Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets.
As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.
Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can.
Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?”
Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine.
“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick.
Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~”
Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit.
His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more.
Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste.
You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop.
Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more.
With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length.
Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering.
Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch.
Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.
“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine.
Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper.
“So eager, Miggy~”
All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling.
Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.
“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths.
The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…
“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile,
“Good…”
You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce.
The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…
With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high.
With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin.
Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…
With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more.
“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…
Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.”
He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you.
Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt.
As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting.
Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently.
After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort.
Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question,
“Can-can I…take you out on a date?”
His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer.
“Miggy, about time you asked…”
You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ FIRST KISS — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fluff + mutual pining if you squint, it’s literally just you being satoru’s first kiss <3, he’s just a loser boy beneath all his facades !!
it’s summer the first time you kiss satoru. his lips taste like the lingering sweetness of kikufuku. the cicadas are calling, and the sun finds every crevice of your skin to hug.
it’s hot outside—but you don’t mind the heat so much when it’s the fan of satoru’s breath against your skin. you can feel his hands tremble as they finds your hips. hesitant, you note as he pauses a moment before finally letting them rest against you.
“you’re eager, sweetheart,” he hums—because satoru, even dazed from the taste of you, is still persistently himself. large hands are gently cradling the curves of your waist—he’s warm there too, where he holds you and pulls you closer to his chest. he grins when you press a kiss to his jaw, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.
“it doesn’t feel like you’re kissing me while held at gunpoint either, gojo,” you roll your eyes. your hand cups his face, thumb tracing over the swell of his cheek gently.
gojo—his lips, rosy and just a bit swollen, pout at the use of his surname. surely, now that you’ve stolen the innocence of his lips, you can spare him a bit more than that. surely, the intimacy of his given name doesn’t outweigh the intimacy of exchanging breath.
satoru—he imagines the way the name would sound from you, carefully whispered like a secret. everything you do is careful, he’s noticed, everything about you is thoughtful and soft.
more than anything, you’re careful in the way you touch him. you’re delicate in the way you let yourself explore his skin, like he’s fragile and easy to hurt. like all he’s ever known is pain. it’s ironic—someone like satoru should know very little about pain, should never feel the devastating blows at its hands when infinity leaves more than enough room for him to remain untouched.
but you’re funny like that; take him by surprise as you carve out the slant of his cheekbone with your thumb slowly enough that you might almost think your touch is enough to slice the skin.
it’s nice, he thinks distantly, being handled with care is nice. it’s not something this world affords so easily.
“this your first kiss?” he asks shamelessly, throwing you that lopsided grin of his.
am i your first? is what he means to ask. what he wants to ask. what he aches to ask.
is he your first? or are you only his? has anyone else tasted the strawberry of your chapstick? was it a different flavor before it was ever strawberry? satoru hopes he’s the only one to ever explore the flavors your lips might come in—maybe you’ll try cherry next. he’d like that.
“it’s certainly your first kiss,” you giggle, thumb moving down to trace his bottom lip, “i can feel you trembling, y’know.”
not many people catch gojo satoru embarrassed—you do, though. that enough should make you feel like god, perhaps. who else is powerful enough to feel the strongest quake? who else feels the quivers of his hands and the uncertain hesitance under his touch?
no one but you—and you’d like to keep it that way.
his face flushes a little, against his control. even gojo satoru is not above the rush of blood rising to his cheeks, even he cannot stop the hue of color that paints across his face. he’s human, after all—and he deserves to be treated as such: with the fragility of being human.
“no it’s not,” he scoffs, “i’ve kissed plenty.”
“yeah?” you chuckle, admiring the rosiness of his flesh, “name one person.”
“i don’t recall anyone’s name,” he shrugs, hands still making sure to keep you painfully close. if you pull away, satoru thinks he might die—thinks he might never recover from the aftershocks of such devastation. “no one was ever worthwhile enough to remember.”
he’s too much sometimes—but never less than enough. you snort, huffing out a small laugh that rings in his ears and makes him gulp.
perfect—you sound and look and feel and taste perfect. gojo satoru is the strongest, but is he deserving of the one thing this earth has that’s devoid of flaws? he’s not so sure. but he can try to be worthy, and perhaps that’s enough.
“well, then tell me, gojo,” you murmur, gently slipping the bandages from his forehead to fall to his neck. he’s only recently left the sunglasses behind—you like him better this way. you can see the outline of his features better, even if you do miss his eyes.
“hm?” he quirks a brow, breath almost hitching when his eyes meet yours—since when have you looked at him like that? since when have your pupils housed so much affection for him? have you always done so, and he’s never noticed?
it would be a crime to not have noticed before this, he thinks, a cruel and terrible reality of missing every soft and affectionate gaze.
“will i be long forgotten after this kiss? or has this one finally caught your attention?”
there is no prior kiss to compare yours to—but there never needs to be one after, either. this is the best kiss he’ll ever have, the only kiss he wants to have. no one will ever feel like you, he’s sure of it. no one will ever make him feel what you do, and even infinity is something that cannot protect him from the risks.
but satoru is not scared, not of you—and never with you.
so he grins, tapping his chin in thought as he hums, “give me another, and i’ll decide.”
you scoff in disbelief—amused, if anything, before shaking your head. he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.
“you never change, gojo,” you say fondly, “do you know that?”
“say satoru,” he says quietly. it’s almost a plead—it sounds like a plead.
you smile. it’s an innocent little thing, untouched by the cruelties of life—or maybe it has, and you still find a reason to stay pure. maybe it’s the latter, he realizes, maybe you’re just resilient enough to remain unwavering in the way you love so unapologetically.
“come here, satoru,” you whisper, gently pulling his face closer as you hold his cheeks.
desperately, he needs to taste his name rolling off your tongue—so he comes closer, bridging the gap and kissing you again. and again—and he can’t find it in him to stop.
the same day satoru has his first kiss, you call him by his first name. it’s summer. the flowers smell sweet as the cicadas call, and you put the sun’s heat to shame.
he’ll always stay warm wrapped in you.
tbh this was supposed to be y’all fucking for the first time but then it just turned into this. alas, we prevail
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