slut | 20💍
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Julia4today - History Major - Tumblr Blog
psa. if we’re mutuals, we’re automatically friends. u don’t need to say things like “sorry to bother” or “sorry im annoying” bc ur not. ur my friend. u can come to me for anything. u need help? im here. wanna chat? hmu. just wanna gush abt your muse? go for it. we’re friends. ily.
i’ve been thinking about it, why’d he propose on 9/11 😭
simon absolutely detests beaches, pools too. any water source that doesn’t come from his pipes, he’s not going near. he’s kind of a cat in that regard.
but he always loves when you go to the beach. wearing a skimpy bikini and coming back with a tan, your face a bit red from the lack of sunscreen.
he’s always happy to greet you after a day in the water. a bit sandy and ready for a long shower.
-
guys i’m actually so terrible at posting consistently im so sorry. on a much brighter note: my bf proposed #>^<
update: i said yes
pov: your boyfriend proposes to you in the middle of panic attack. hahahaha this happened hahahaha somebody help hahaha
Gym Rat Miguel Part 13
content warning: alcohol, drugs, 18+ so MDNI, food play??, fellatio, cunnilingus
word count: 5.8k (YAY FOR MY BETA! @slushycoookie )
:)
Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who starts the week with hope in his heart.
He was reaching a new milestone in his life and he was really looking forward to seeing you. He’s even started to cross off the days on his calendar as he gets closer to the date. Never mind the fact that midterms were right around the corner.
At this point, the reserved rooms in the library had his and Xina’s name imprinted on the sign-up sheet. He was confident about his progress in his classes while Xina was triple checking everything.
“I swear to god if I don’t make at least a B on this, I’m going to do commit arson.”
“Do you have any gasoline?”
Xina threw her pencil at Miguel while he snickered and dodged.
GymRat!Miguel who noticed that Xina was taking a liking to these brighter sets. The shirt she was wearing right now looked a lot like the one you wore on you all’s anniversary.
GymRat!Miguel who has been texting you as much as he could because he knew your critiques were coming up. You’ve been sending him progress of your work and the occasional paint covered hand. He didn’t know how you got yellows and charcoal on your face, but it was cute and he saved every picture.
GymRat!Miguel who is laughing at his a clip that Gabriel sent him when Xina grits out his name.
“I know you might be free to live, laugh, love, or whatever, but some of us have tests coming up.”
Miguel places his phone down, “I have tests, too.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“What’s with you all of a sudden?”
“Nothing,” she breaks the lead of her pencil with how hard she’s writing across the page.
“Xina, I’m sure you’re going to do great on your tests. You’re stressing yourself out over nothing. If this is how you’re like now, the finals are going to take you out.”
“I really need to pass. Some of these tests are, like, 30% of the grade.”
“And like I said,” Miguel laid his head on the table. “You’re going to do great. Trust yourself a bit more.”
Xina flit her eyes from Miguel back to her notes, a flutter in her eyes.
GymRat!Miguel whose phone is on lockdown for the next two hours as per Xina’s request so he was now in line for snacks and drinks.
He was thinking about getting something sweet, a reward for finally finishing one of his papers and the write-up for his game.
“Migster! It’s such a coincidence seeing you here.”
Miguel tenses, that shrieking voice recognizable anywhere.
“Aaron,” he turns with a polite smile.
“Grabbing some munchies for you and your girlfriend? Where is she by the way?”
Miguel shifted his eyes to him in his peripheral and back to the bread on display.
“You’ve never seen my girlfriend.”
“Don’t act all shy, now!” Aaron nudges Miguel’s side to which he doesn’t budge. “You guys look cute together.”
He couldn’t recall a single moment where you picked him up from his robotic team meetings, the engineering building, or the science building where he could see it.
Miguel looked down at him and curled his lip a bit, “Are you stalking me?”
Aaron let out a bird-like laugh, voice making the people in front of him jump, “You’re really a riot. Dude, she’s always outside of the building waiting for you. She gave me an invite to your birthday party?”
He leans in even closer, “You’re not cheating on her are you?”
Miguel stepped forward, the line decreasing and Aaron following him like a lackey.
“That’s not my girlfriend.”
Aaron snickered, “Could have fooled me.”
GymRat!Miguel who returns to the private study room with a knot in his stomach.
He places down a sandwich and a latte for Xina and taps on his own cup of coffee.
“Can I have my phone back?”
Xina slid it back without a fight, “Don’t distract me.”
He checks his phone and it’s only emails from school and a reminder to buy protein powder.
He guesses you’re busy again.
GymRat!Miguel who fights through the beginning of the week just to breathe by the time his birthday gets here.
Peter wakes him up with a mini confetti cannon and a lit cupcake that almost burns through his comforter.
They both panic for a few seconds as they beat the life out of the fabric and Peter looks shameful before he runs to his last midterm.
GymRat!Miguel who sees that his brother has dropped a saxophone rendition of “In Da Club” and dedicated it to Miguel on his TikTok.
The comments are full of praise and begging to see Miguel.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have any messages from you yet.
There’s two from his mom, one from his dad and Tyler, some sporadic messages from his abuela, celebratory words from The Geek Squad, an email from his Steam account, a bunch of messages from Xina, and nothing from you.
Miguel’s shoulders wilt, thumbs flicking through his phone.
The countdown he started stared back at him.
GymRat!Miguel who didn’t really do anything special outside of his normal routine.
Get up. Exercise. Breakfast. Rest. Think about you.
Was his last birthday this uneventful?
GymRat!Miguel who dresses up a bit for this party that Xina insisted on having.
He looks in the mirror and adjusts the chain on his neck and smooths down his jean jacket. He doesn’t feel any different from yesterday, but he does feel like a loser for moping all day.
He should be thankful that he has friends and family that reached out to him. He should be thankful that Tyler slid him a nice amount of cash. He should be thankful that Xina is going out of her way to celebrate with him.
He still wishes you would have called.
GymRat!Miguel who hears the party as he’s walking up the stairs to the apartment door. He doesn’t know what to expect, but knocks on the door with fated breath.
GymRat!Miguel who is pulled into the party and given the ugliest birthday hat he’s ever seen by a guy he vaguely remembers from the gym.
He turns to the crowd and shouts, “The Birthday Boy is here!”
Everyone in the room shouts and cheers, patting him on the back as he weaves through the sea of people.
A beer was placed in his hand and noisemakers were blown past his ears. He smiled a little at the chaos and yelled thank-you’s over the noise.
GymRat!Miguel who saw some familiar faces once he got to the living room of the apartment. Margo was inching further away from Aaron as he laughed at something with a grimace on her face.
She looked up as Miguel came closer and jumped from the couch.
“Miguel!” She gripped his shoulders. “I am so glad to see you here. Let’s go to the balcony.”
She uses Miguel like a bulldozer moving past people drinking and dancing.
As they make it outside, she thanks him.
“Aaron is entirely incapable of reading the room or shutting up. You just saved me from hearing him mansplain the mechanics of Mario Party while Doritos fall from his mouth.”
Miguel smiled apologetically as she shoved a gift bag in his hand.
“And this was a nice experience! But I want to catch a game update that happens at 2am, and I need some shut eye.”
“You’re leaving already?” Miguel huffs, weight shifting in his stance.
“I’m sorry, Miguel. I’ve been here for a while and there’s only so much grass I can take in my clothes before the shots wear off. Also, a couple has been eyeing me since I walked in, and the guy looks sinister. I’ve got to go home.”
Miguel furrowed his brow, “Need me to drive you home?”
“I’m ok. I’ll text you. Enjoy your gift!”
She hugs Miguel and books it, ribbons in her braids trailing after her.
He opens the bag and laughs when he catches the card with a dad joke staring back at him.
GymRat!Miguel who really has no clue who majority of the people standing around are.
He’s chatted with a few people and pushed away a couple of wandering hands, but outside of Margo and Ben, who was currently dancing on top of the table like a video vixen in between some girls, he hasn’t really found anyone.
There was a coarse smell that ran through the apartment. He wasn’t sure if it was because the amount of sweaty bodies pressing against each other or because of the mix of mango pineapple smoke and something else he couldn’t pick up.
The music was rattling his bones and the hairs on his skin were standing upright. Everywhere he turned, someone was there and the weight of it was becoming too much. His height could allow him relief if the ceiling didn’t feel like it was caving in.
He got to a bathroom, praying for a break, only to be met with someone sliding their nose across the counter and another person at their side sitting on the toilet. He closes the door with a panic and shuffles to the kitchen.
It’s a small break, the people lingering around the island laughing over red solo cups. He reached for his phone, heart pumping through his veins as he runs across your name in his phone.
“Nuh uh,” Miguel’s phone is snatched from his hands. He’s about to panic until he sees who it is. “Tonight, you’re living in the moment.”
“But-”
“No buts! Only shots and smiles!” Xina pocketed the device. “Now, let’s have some fun.”
She smiles at him and grabs his arm, chest pressing up against his as she leans towards his face. He can smell the alcohol on her breath before he attaches the back of his hand onto her face.
Xina stumbles back, “So I can’t kiss you on the cheek now, either?”
“No. You haven’t done that in years and you’re drunk right now. Give me my phone back, please.”
“At least enjoy the party a little first. There’s,” she glances over to the middle of the island, “was…cake for you.”
Miguel follows her gaze to a mostly eaten cake with a part of it with teeth marks. He turns back to Xina who is pouring a shot for him.
She hands him a cup, “Just another hour. Please? I haven’t even given you your gift yet.”
“Forty five minutes and I’m going back to my dorm.”
She jumps up at down, loose straps of her dress sliding down. She pulls Miguel into the crowd with laugh and a shriek.
GymRat!Miguel who tolerates the party for a little longer, but the more he’s here, the more he regrets agreeing to stay.
He lost the stupid hat he got when he came and the beer he had was long gone.
Xina is nowhere to be found for what feels like the fifth time and between her topping off his cup every time she sees him and the guy next to him that looks like he’s about to puke over the floor, Miguel wants out.
Three doors, two heated couples, and face down body in, he finds her room.
No one is here so he steps in and sighs. He sits on the bed and holds his face into his hands.
He could hear some people riling each other up just outside the door and the thumping of a bed against the wall. He checked his watch and saw he was well overdue for his escape.
And you still weren’t here.
GymRat!Miguel who jumps up when the door bursts open, a wide-eyed Xina lighting up.
“Were you waiting for me?” her voice is drawn out, dress haphazard. She hops onto the bed and stretches out with a lazy smile.
“Xina, give me my stuff. I’m not asking again.”
“Ooh, touchy,” she takes his phone from her bra with a pout. “I can’t believe you’re still so tense with all of the alcohol.”
He’s been letting it splash out of his cup all night.
“Some people can hold their liquor,” he takes his phone and checks it. Still, nothing. “I’m leaving. Good night.”
Xina whines out a no as she reaches for him.
“Don’t go,” her words get stuck in her throat. “It’s your big day.”
Miguel looks back her, the colors in her face changing from warm to cool. He grabs a trash can from the side of the room and places it at her beside.
“Get to the bathroom if you can, Xi,” he makes quick work to clip her hair up with a lone butterfly claw. “I’ll check on you later.”
As he slips through the door as the sound of her hurling gets drowned out by the packed apartment.
GymRat!Miguel who is standing outside of the apartment by the stairs and leaning on the wall to catch his breath.
It was all too much.
He wonders how know one has come with a noise complaint yet.
He walks down the steps, the tenseness in his neck amplifying.
“Miguel!”
The way he perks up is almost comical.
You’re standing by his car with a gift bag in your hand and a worried look on your face. He hurries to you and engulfs you in a hug, sticking his nose in the top of your scalp.
“Baby, I thought you forgot.”
“How could I forget?” you push him a little. “And you smell really loud. Were you about to drive back like this?”
“I promise I only drank a beer and a shot-“
“And how come you weren’t answering the phone? I’ve been blowing it up all night. And your location is off.”
Miguel groans, “Xina took my phone.”
“Why does she have your phone? Why did she take your phone?” the tone of your voice was sharp.
“She wanted me to enjoy myself tonight,” Miguel rubbed your shoulders, trying to get you to take the wrinkle from between your eyebrows. “‘M sorry.”
You clicked your tongue and pushed his hands off of your shoulders. Miguel called your name like a plea as you walked around his car to the driver’s side.
“Sorry isn’t enough, Miguel. Something could have happened to you. My mind was going everywhere.”
Miguel followed behind, hands floating and wanting to touch, but not wanting to make you madder.
You turned to him with an irritated look and he shot his hands down.
Even when you’re mad, you’re pretty. Your lips curled up and moved a mile a minute and he just wanted to kiss you. You looked so cozy in your sweater and baggy pants. He wanted to bury his head in your chest and hold you for a while.
Your fingers waved in front of Miguel’s face, “Earth to Miguel. Are you listening to me?”
“Mm hm, I-. We…yes.”
A slew of profanities from one of the apartment balconies passed over you both, the silence between you growing.
You turn your palm over, “Give me the keys. You’re not driving.”
“But I’m fine! I can drive.”
“You’re literally dozing off standing up.”
“That’s because you’re gorgeous, bebé.”
You roll your eyes while Miguel smiles at you and crowds you against the door.
“No. No and no,” you shove his face as he laughs. “Stop being cute and hand over the keys. I’m mad at you right now.”
“No te enojes,” he whispers as your eyes peer up over your glasses. “I don’t want you to be.” (Don’t be mad)
You squish his face in between your hands.
“Then go to the passenger side.”
GymRat!Miguel who sits petulantly in his seat while you try your best to navigate back to his dorm.
“Baby, watch the curb-“
“Miguel, I see the curb. I’m not going to hit it.”
“Ok, but slow-“ his body jerks while as you slam the breaks, “down.”
“I’m driving perfectly, but you should remember this moment so that it doesn’t happen again.”
Miguel’s eyes shifted from the narrow road in front of him to your profile, heart full.
“And how do you drive this big ass thing everyday anyway?”
“I’m a big guy, for starters.”
“Stop talking.”
“Claro, hermosa.”
GymRat!Miguel who grips your hand tight as he brings you back to his dorm.
You’re still fussing at him, but your tone has shifted to a softer one. You wanted him to understand how scared you were.
GymRat!Miguel who is ready to pounce on you once you step into his room but you stop him with a wish for him to take a shower first.
“And then maybe we can cuddle.”
He starts hopping on one foot as he yanks his clothes off one by one, feet tripping over each other as he runs towards the bathroom.
GymRat!Miguel who walks into the room with clouds of steam behind him and a towel wrapped around his lower half.
You’re sitting on the bed with your pants on the floor, a blanket covering you, and Miguel has half the mind to dive on top of you.
As he gets closer, you look up from your phone with a glint in your eyes, “Where are your clothes at?”
“I just took a shower.”
He stands beside the bed staring at you, waiting. You scoot over closer to the wall to give him some room.
“How was the party?” you ask, trying your best to ignore your boyfriend’s muscles relaxing and tensing as he stat down. He tugged you in, laying your head against his chest and your fingers twitched as you thought about squeezing it.
“I hated every bit of it.”
“What happened?”
He maneuvered you so that you were straddling his thighs, your glasses almost falling off in the process.
“It didn’t really feel like a party for me,” Miguel fixes your glasses for you, tucking the handle back over your ear. “There were a lot of people, most of which I didn’t know. Xina was also on and off all night. And you weren’t there.”
“I tried, Miguel, I really did. But my calls weren’t going through. I thought your phone was off or something. Plus, I was getting all of your gift together.”
“What you’d get?”
He has a vice grip on your hips as you lean over to grab the bag from the floor.
You place the gift in front of you, the top of almost hiding Miguel from your view.
His hand flies for the top, throwing the red tissue paper everywhere. He reaches into the bag and grabs the first thing, a bottle of oil with a small note attached.
He looks confused before you explain yourself, “I know sometimes after your bigger workouts, your muscles get tense. This is for when I’m with you and can work those out. It smells really good too. And it’s mostly there because the massage gun I ordered didn’t come in yet.”
Miguel’s grin widens, “This is better.” His mind is short circuiting thinking about you in a masseuse scrub that hugs your body leaning over his back. Or maybe no clothes. He wants that.
You tilt the bag and he pulls out some shirts to which you hold up against his skin after you place the bag to the side.
“I think these will fit nicely,” you nod to yourself more than anything. Miguel likes the texture of it and whatever you think looks good on him.
“Thank you.”
“There’s two more things.”
He rummages through the bag again and pulls out a small box. His eyes focuses on the words.
“Is this,” he flips the box around, “us?”
You nod without saying a word.
In his hands, he holds a blind box that you made, the outside decorated in hearts and stars with your names combined together on the tab.
“This is one of the things that took me so long. I was making it from scratch.”
It was a little figure of you both inside from one of the nights of the yacht party. You made the chocolate boat come to life coupled with the red outfits you were both wearing.
Miguel stares up at you in awe, “I love it. I love it so much.”
“I’m glad. I was scared it was too cliché.”
“To who? I’m going to put it on display and project it on the wall.
He spun the figure around in his hand taking in every detail. You got everything right down to the way his hair fell. Even the box had pictures of figures from other dates and meetups.
“I would like to collect them all.”
“That requires at least two and a half more birthdays.”
GymRat!Miguel who watched you brace him for the last gift.
“Why are you so nervous? What is it?”
“Just, don’t laugh. Actually, no, you’re supposed to laugh. I was delirious when I made it.”
He pulled out a blue box with a transparent top, watching as you spun your thumbs in circles. As he untied the ribbon around it, he could see why you looked like you were about to pounce to the other end of the bed.
In the box lay a bunch of cookies in the shapes of hearts and stars to match the blind box. The ones on top are plain with holes in the middle.
He pulls one out.
“‘Birthday Blows?’”
You seal your lips tight as he reads over the rest of the cookies.
“‘Let Me Crumb On Your Face-’”
“It’s a gag gift-“
“Then let’s do it.”
“What?”
GymRat!Miguel who ensured you that the gift was perfect. At least the movement under his towel showed that he was serious.
Now, he’s sitting against the headboard doing something he’d never thought he would do.
“You’re laughing,” Miguel throbs while you sit back and cackle at his state. “There’s a chocolate chip cookie stuck on my dick, and you’re laughing.”
“I’m sorry!” your shoulders shake as you push up your glasses. “I thought the hole would be big enough when I made it. I underestimated you. I also wasn’t expecting you to actually want to use it.”
Miguel twitched as you pushed the cookie down further, the inside of it melting from the heat. Your eyes were sparkling the longer you stared at him.
“A-Amor, we’ve been apart for too long because you should know that all you have to do is mention it once and I’m in.”
“So,” you rub a finger over the tip and like magic, Miguel was sure to follow. You shuffle your position on the bed watching him get harder. “All this took was an explanation?”
Miguel stuttered out a yes as you ghosted your fingers over his inner thighs. His breath hitched as your gaze stayed on him.
Your sweater was pooling over your shoulders and your thighs filled the space in between his.
You bent and took a bite out of the cookie, humming as the taste hit your tongue. Your fingers dig into his thighs as you lean back up.
“That’s delicious,” you chew with your hand covering your mouth. “I think I did a really good job.”
He moves your hand and follows.
“I wanna try.” Miguel whispers. He’s staring at you with heavy eyes. You smile softly and kiss his cheek, his face leaning into your lips.
You bend down and take another piece, Miguel trailing you as come up to his face. He opens his mouth, eyes going from yours to your lips as you place the piece on his tongue. The sweetness explodes in his mouth once the chocolate hits his senses.
You take a hand to the side of his face as he chews, kissing his lips and licking a crumb off. Your other hand runs up his chest, squeezing at it as you take your lips to his neck.
Miguel groans as you suck his skin, nails scratching lightly behind his ear. His hands grip the back of your t-shirt, fabric stretching in his hold.
You feel him swallow and you kiss near his adam’s apple.
“C’mere,” Miguel guides your face back to his. His kiss is desperate as he opens your mouth, moaning when he can still taste the sugar on your tongue.
Your hands warm him up as they move from his neck to his shoulders, thighs shaking when he holds your tongue in between his lips.
“Let me,” your breaths hits his lips, a whine coating your words, “let me finish.”
He continued to leave long kisses over your mouth, “Keep going, then.”
As you moved to bent to take another bite, Miguel knew you were barely holding on. He feels your breath shudder over him as you take another bite.
His mind was hazy as he watched you focus on freeing him. The heat from your face was radiating off of you and your lips were shining, glasses keeping a tiny fog at the corners.
He grit his teeth as you slid the remainder of the cookie up and off. Your tongue followed the line of chocolate along his shaft, glasses becoming crooked. A dribble of pre-cum escape’s Miguel and he trembles as he watches it blend on your tongue. He still has a mind to take the cookie out of your hand and back on the plastic bag it came out of, your mind too preoccupied to continue your endeavor.
You arch your back, shirt riding up as you take his head into your mouth. Miguel just about cries when you hollow your cheeks. The moonlight coming through the curtains leaves cool lines on your body as if he guided it.
Miguel smooths your hair back as you sink onto him deeper, a load moan escaping Miguel’s throat when you pump him with another hand.
It’s messy and fervent watching you try your best to catch every drop of him and clean the chocolate from your hands and his skin.
Your name is on the roof of his mouth as your lips connect to your grip on him.
What’s more is that your other hand reaches in between your thighs, the sound of you mixing with your hums and constricting throat.
“Mi sol,” Miguel feels like the stars are falling into his room. “Amor, bebé, I can’t take it.”
Everything was overwhelming in the best way possible.
The vision of your body before him, from the way your hips folded onto your thighs to the way your ass moved as you bobbed up and down, was perfect. The way your lips swole to sink onto him felt amazing and your fingers moving from him to yourself only moved him more.
You only moan as you move your hand from his length to the place below, holding him in your grasp. The sound of your throat gagging as you take him all in at once pulls him to the edge. He’s loud enough to where you know his neighbors heard.
A swallow or two before he lifts your head off of him, torso bowing and arching. He springs, convulsing as cum lands on your glasses.
“Shit,” he cries as you kiss the tip, mouth leaving flutters all the way down. Just as always, his mind can’t help but to think, “you’re so pretty.”
His core is sore but it’s nothing that you can’t fix. He takes your glasses off and pulls you up. He replaces your hand on yourself with his, mouth quick to taste him on your lips. Your hands grip at his shoulders as he flips your positions.
He yanks your underwear off, reveling in the way the fat of your thighs move. He wastes no time in bending your body up, one knee digging into the bed and the other foot on the ground as he lodges his face into you.
“Miguel!” you grip onto the edge of the twin mattress trying to find your balance as he starts to indulge in you in place of the cookies.
You’re already so wet and it excites him. He’s sucking your clit in slow motions, rubbing his tongue over the nub at a steady tempo. Your eyebrows are furrowed as your sweater scrunches up.
Miguel grips his arms around your thigh on his shoulders, fingers kneading the flesh. You try to muffle yourself as the sound of Miguel slurping you up gets louder and louder.
“My neck, baby,” you sigh through your whines. Your hands hit the bed then grip his hair and you feel fireworks going off.
He only kneels on the ground, holding your hips so you don’t slide off of the edge. He quickens his pace, tongue sliding into your entrance.
You shake and bend around him as he digs his head deeper, groaning as his forehead meets your stomach.
The ceiling is blurry, your brain not knowing whether to focus on the building slick going down Miguel’s chin or the vibration of his voice thumbing through you.
It could also be his buzzing phone that keeps drifting next to you.
Ignoring it is almost impossible, the feeling of it becoming irritating.
You take his phone in your hand, eyes focusing on the blue light and the pit of your stomach drops when the name flashes across the screen.
“Miguel, stop.”
He looks up like a deer in headlights, face flushed and doused.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something off?”
You shove the phone his face, legs pushing off of him to get away, “I don’t know. You tell me.”
He catches the phone as you sit and opens it. You look over to see what feels like a thousand messages from Xina.
“whete did you to?”
“I can’t bepkwvw you lert mr here”
“Mkguel”
“mgel”
“answer the freaki b phohe”
“I knoq you’ee sgull uo”
“come bacl to ny riom”
“k feel ndytee now”
“beter”
“better”
“i missss u”
“You were in her room?” the bed sheets make a peculiar sound under your palm.
“Only to get away from the party and to look for my phone. She came in afterwards. These,” he places the phone on the bed, “these aren’t what they look like.”
“Then what the fuck does it look like? Because to me, it looks like you’re a liar.”
Miguel’s mouth gapes open and he flounders, not knowing what to say that’ll make you see the truth.
“God,” you climb off of the bed and head to bathroom. He crawls into a run after you, tight on your heels. “I feel so fucking stupid.”
“Amor-”
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
“Baby, please, just listen to me.”
“I’ve been listening to you for weeks, trusting you for weeks, and look where it’s gotten me! You let your ‘friend’ run you and belittle me, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”
Miguel’s heart sank as he watched you wipe away at your skin furiously. A stutter fights the words leaving him, “W-What are you saying?”
You brush past him and snatch your clothes from the floor. His strides are wide to meet you.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re getting what you want.”
“What are you talking about? I-I don’t understand.”
“This has been going on nonstop. Outside of school, when we rain checked, it was her. When we made plans, you’re always mentioning her. You’re spending every moment with her. I’ve been texting and calling you all fucking day, and you say your phone is with her.”
Your fingers press into his chest with every pronoun, his face crumbling at your words.
“I waited things out because I didn’t want to be the girlfriend that makes herself sick over every girl that passes you by, but this is making me insane.”
He says your name with a crack in his voice, “You don’t have to worry about her. I’ll talk to her. I’ll sort things out.”
You pick up your phone and dial a number, waiting only second before the call drops. You do it again, and turn the phone to his face. His name in your phone is there in all caps, one ring, and the call doesn’t go through.
“What was that again about sorting shit out?”
He pinched his brow, lost.
“You can be so,” you looked around like the word was in the room, “stupid sometimes.”
The settings on his phone are opened to his blocked contacts, your name the only one on the list.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and almost laughed in disbelief at the situation. Your throat was tight as you looked straight at the wall.
“I didn’t do this!”
“Then who did, Miguel?” you wiped a tear from your face just as fast as it fell. You trudged towards the door, limbs heavy as Miguel pulled at them, a bubble of no’s coating air.
“Let me go.”
“Then please don’t go. I don’t know how this happened, but none of it’s true. We can talk. I-I love you. I need you. Mi amor, por favor no me dejas.” (My love, please don’t leave.)
Your sweater almost rips as you pull his arms from around you and grab the door knob, a sob growing at the bottom of your jaw.
“Wipe your fucking face,” was all you said in response as you slammed the door after you.
Miguel watched the door rattle against the hinges in horror, cheeks burning with tears as he scrambled to put some pants on.
He hit his knee as he made a run for the exit, hoping to catch you before you got back to your own dorm. The chill of the autumn night shocking his skin.
The sidewalk was empty, only the scuttle of dry leaves going across the pavement.
In the dark, stood this weeping man who felt like a boy, lost and heaving out, no hope in his heart.
divider by: kodaswrld + adornedwithlight 🩵
a/n: Trying to update and format this on my phone is so infuriating. And also it took a lot of planning to get here.
The taglist has reached the max number! If you want updates, check my blog, turn on post notifs, or subscribe to it on AO3! (Although, I’ll have to clean this one up because some blogs aren’t here anymore!)
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili
@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting
@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02
@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies
@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu
@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms
@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx
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@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22
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@earth2fae @maiyart @darkstarlight82
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@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib
@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry
POV: you (trying to) baby-trap soap.
cw: breeding, dub-con/non-con?? leg-locking, idk what else. you’ve been warned
johnny’s hands on your hips as he fucks into your slick cunt, moaning and groaning above you. fucking the living hell out of you. the squelching noises bouncing off the walls while you moan so sweetly like candy. though you did lie about being on your birth control while fucking johnny, knowing he has a breeding kink. you just want his kid so bad! so why not fuck him when your ovulating and off those pills!!
you throw your head back, your legs thrown over johnnys shoulders. you huff and moan, writhing around. the pleasure being almost unbearable at the fact he’s almost hitting your cervix. sore from the bruising of his grip on the back of your thighs and sore from the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot so well.
“fuck lassie. need’ya pussy so bad- need to breed ya’ pussy with ma’ loads.” he moans out with a whine. thrusting even harder with the pace he’s at now. you start to leg lock him, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking him in to not waste his cum. while locking him, you claw at his back. desperately trying to grip something and distract him from noticing how your leg locking him so intensely.
“lemme fill ya’ with ma’ babes lassie- please. need tae’ get ye’ barefoot and pregnan’ fer me.” he grunts out, slamming his hips against yours harshly. most likely to leave bruises in his way of fucking the living shit out of you. you nod your head at his words. “yes, yes! please get me pregnant johnny- want your babies so bad. promise you’ll give me your kids, promise me please.” you bet with the man, forcing him to make a promise with you while the pleasure starts to spike.
“i promise. i promise ya’. i’ll fill yer womb with ma’ babes, i promise you tha’. trust me, i’m dumpin’ my loads into ya’ as much as possible. forcing my loads inside your womb so you can give me some babies.” he rambles on. you moan loudly at every single word, grabbing at his shoulders and back. scratching him as you guys both get closer to the edge. a large wave pulling back and-
“fuck, give it tae’ me lassies, give me yer orgasm. c’mon, let johnny fuck his cum into ya’.” and that breaks you too pieces. legs shaking yet staying still as your leg is still locked around his waist. before he realizes he can’t pull out. “cannae’ pull out lassie- gotta-“ “no!” you say, tears rolling down your cheeks. “no, want you to come in me please. please johnny need to feel it.” you start to hump into him while he whimpers. nodding to you as you speak, beginning to thrust up into you to chase his orgasm.
the overstimulation consuming you as you go under, finally feeling the warmth of johnny’s seed inside your cunny. so you do is rest and lay numb in the bed. johnny rolls over, grabbing you and flipping you onto him. your feeling horribly tired from the rough fuck but right as you let sleep take you. you hear the words.
“i kno’ ya’ stopped taking yer birth control. don’t worry lass. i switched ‘em out for sugar pills anyways.”
what if ghost and you were on the same team. and you know, you guys acted like normal teammates. except that one time soap caught you and ghost leaning into each other after one particularly hard mission. gaz saw you kissing ghost on the cheek one morning when you think no one saw you both. price noticed how you both always managed to find each other in a room full of men.
and then one time when the team were hanging out at a bar. you all were pissed. soap asked if you guys were shagging each other and you answered with,
"oh, we're actually married!" you'd said with a bright smile and flushed cheeks.
and the way the men instantly sobered up after that and stared at you, mouths hanging open. soap managed to spit beer on gaz's face. price's cigar hung loosely from his open mouth. you bursted out laughing at the ridiculous sight.
and simon? well, simon thought it was about bloody time they tell the team. (he was getting tired of soap constantly making up conspiracy theories about you and him.)
— masterlist.
simon with a lop-eared bunny!girl. long, black, fluffy ears that droop in unity with your grumpy face. you’re skittish around strangers, often chomping (harmlessly, most of the time) down on john when he reached out to lightly pet and tug on on your ears or johnny when he creeps up to take a picture of you napping and wakes you from your slumber
you much prefer dressing in darker tones to match your “aura” as kyle calls it. simon is very much on board with this, always buying you leather studded collars encrusted with bunny skulls. short pleated skirts and big thrifted hoodies with second hand doc martens to boost your height against your brute of an owner
you much prefer napping in simon’s lap during the day before burrowing under his duvet once the sun sets. your head resting on top of his thigh whilst his hand lazily rests on your ears, thumbing over the soft fur until you both fall asleep. he often finds you awake at the crack of dawn, munching down on some granola and fruit before watching the sunrise with a book in your lap
you enjoy winding up your owner, often getting a perk of energy right when he needs you to settle down. he wants to call you his good girl but if he’s being honest, you enjoy pushing his buttons more often than not. he’s not afraid to bend you over his knee and whack that sour look off your face until you’re a sulking, and sniffling mess. that’s when he cuddles you in his big bed before bundling you up with one of his hoodies, a nintendo switch and some headphones whilst he goes about his errands
please send me requests about this i’m going feral
ghost whittles. he’ll be on the bus with his mates riding back and he’s just whittling with his pocket knife
Some of my Miguel O'hara thoughts...
I'm 1000% sure, Miguel O'hara loves his women hyper feminine, petite and chubby! A woman's thick thighs and big breasts are certainly some of Miguel's favorite features, without a shadow of a doubt.
He gets off on the contrast between his muscular, big shape and his girlfriend's soft tummy, big cheeks and adorable love handles.
O'hara is the type of lover to admire his girlfriend/wife get ready for a date night with him. Putting on her outfit and doing her makeup, he can't wait to get home from the date just to rip that dress off his girlfriend's body and smudge her mascara from making his amor moan his name over and over again.
When his girlfriend shows up in some of these outfits, it makes Miguel crazy (he wants to wife her up IMMEDIATELY):
Miguel worships his girlfriend's body like a religious man worships an entity...adoring every single inch of her being and preaching words of admiration and love, "Say it with me! I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, my body is a temple, mi amor, you are breathtakingly mesmerizing"; "Say that you adore every part of your body, every inch, every curve, just like I do...I'm begging on my knees to hear your sweet voice chanting those exact words, like you mean it, cariño"...Miguel's girlfriend would bring him to his KNEES just to be able to see her beauty as much as he does.
O'hara is soft hearted but when teased by his lover, he can't control himself...desperate to leave you cock drunk and see you squirm underneath him is a sight from heaven for Miguel...he just can't help himself...
barely write anymore but i never miss this
Gym Rat Miguel Part 12
content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food
word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)
Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.
GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.
It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.
He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.
He’s exhausted all of his options.
The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.
Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.
The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.
Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.
GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.
His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.
Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.
His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.
Just a few more sprints to go.
GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.
“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.
“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.
Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”
Miguel snorted.
GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.
This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.
If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.
Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.
Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?
Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”
Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”
The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.
They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.
It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.
GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.
“So,” she started.
“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“
“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing is up with me.”
“Miguel.”
“Xina.”
“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”
Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.
“I miss her.”
“Miss who? Your mom?”
“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”
It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.
Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”
Miguel nods.
“When’s the last time you saw her?”
He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”
“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”
“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”
“No, I don’t think that.”
Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.
“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”
“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”
“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.
“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”
Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.
GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.
“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”
Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”
“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”
GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.
He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.
“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”
Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”
GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.
Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.
“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”
“You just want a reason to not do your work.”
Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”
She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.
“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”
GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.
The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.
Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.
“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.
Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”
“I doubt it.”
GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.
He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.
He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.
That’s when he sees you.
He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.
The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.
He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.
A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.
Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.
“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.
“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.
“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.
“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.
Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.
“Who is this?”
GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.
He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.
“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”
“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“
“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”
“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.
GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.
A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.
You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”
“Amor…”
Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”
“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”
“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”
“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”
Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”
“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”
“I said I was sorry about that!”
GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.
“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.
When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.
“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”
“You didn’t even ask!”
“Neither did she!”
Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”
Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.
GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.
They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.
“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.
“Like I do anything else, with peace.”
“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”
“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”
“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”
Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.
GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.
He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.
You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.
You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.
“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.
Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”
GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.
He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.
Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.
Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.
“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.
You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”
You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”
Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.
The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.
It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.
The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.
Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”
“Boring.”
“Beautiful.”
He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.
“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”
The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.
“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.
She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”
“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”
Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”
“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.
“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.
“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”
“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”
You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.
GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.
Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.
“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”
GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.
“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.
“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”
“Need me to drive you back?”
“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”
Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.
He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.
“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”
“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”
“Please.”
GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.
“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”
Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.
“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.
Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.
Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”
“You’re really annoying me today.”
Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.
“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”
“No.”
“Why not? It could be fun!”
“I’m all partied out until next year.”
“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”
“That’s robo rockstars to you.”
Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.
“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”
Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.
GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.
Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.
“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”
“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”
Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”
“This isn’t helping me.”
GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”
“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”
“Just answer the question, mijo.”
Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.
“Yeah.”
Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.
“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”
“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)
“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)
“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)
Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”
“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.
Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.
Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.
“Baby”
“Let’s do something together on your bday”
Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.
“YES”
“YEESSSS”
“Best birthday ever already”
“Someone’s excited”
“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”
“What are we doing”
“Tell me please”
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”
“Mmm”
“No”
“It’s a secret 🙂↔️”
“I can wait”
“That you are”
“Sometimes”
“😗”
“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”
“Oh”
“Should we raincheck then?”
“NOOOOOO!”
“I can do both”
“I’ll literally split myself in two”
“You don’t have to choose”
“My gift is small”
“I want you to have fun on your special day”
“Can you come to the party?”
“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”
“If anything it’ll be much later”
“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”
“Good night bebé”
“Night!”
"Love you"
“Love you more"
divider by: @plutism 🩵
a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.
The taglist has reached the max number! If you want updates, check my blog, turn on post notifs, or subscribe to it on AO3!
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @emelie-s-h @lake-lili
@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting
@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02
@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies
@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu
@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms
@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx
@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu
@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22
@questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @calig0sto @tatatida @haveclayeveryday
@corpsenightmarebride @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstarlight82
@ladysimp @sonicbutbutter @relatednative @slowlyshycomputer @nuetralcolorsenthusiast
@maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @Madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog
@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot
@snakelore @pigeonmama @darkstalight82 @prettygirleli @koikohib
@jayskookies @xo-zeze @planetxella @thedevax @stressed-cherry
TF141 does talent shows. Do with that information what you will
mama
MIA
i canon soap and price to be left handed. so sue me!!
Hey in your tought what would be the type of woman for Miguel ?
GREAT QUESTION. nsfw under the cut
a/n, half ranting half actual stuff. also this is just based on
tw: my opinion
i’m my opinion miguel is inclusive to all. shape size whatever. genders though, idk
miguel strikes me as a guy who dabbled in college, maybe partially to explore, partially to stick it to the man. the man being his mother.
and by dabbled i mean he maybe had some same sex sex. but it just wasn’t for him at the end of the day. now peter…HE DIPPED. HE PLUNGED. and i think both he and mj are bisexual. atleast in the context of itsv/atsv. but they’re both perfectly content. so before i go into a rant how people seem to shun bisexuals who choose to be in a opposite sex relationship, let’s move on
as for body type, he likes some fluff, something nice to lay on. he’s pretty much all muscle, he’s hard, and mildly uncomfortable to lay on. so he likes the nice contrast
contrary to popular belief (those with size kinks) miguel prefers someone with a bit of height. although to be quite honest, i think however tall the woman is, she pales in comparison to his big stature.
i think he would like someone he could speak to in spanish. besides miles, but we all know miles is one more bad grade to being a no sabo kid. AKA mans isn’t fluent anymore
miguel would want someone who knew how to appreciate a hard worker. someone who took care of him while also leaving him to his own devices.
miguel a munch though
tits, he likes tits. what can i say, he’s definitely a boobs guy. can’t convince me other wise. medium-big. he likes to use them as pillows and on the flip side, suck and tug and mark and kiss.
ass + thighs, it comes with being larger but he loves to grab and squeeze. man definitely has some sort of hand fixation. he didn’t realise it but he’s always touching his computers and that action def translates over to his woman
he likes marking his woman, hickeys!!!!!!!!
YUMMY GO FOLLW THIS PERSON NOW !!!
i love size kink and dumbification don’t even GET ME STARTED. i could write novels
i’m going insane
boyf at the gym, he’s bringing smoothies back. i’m so winning
running so many social medias where nobody knows they’re all connected is so hard. like merlin tikok account, atsv tumblr, relatable ass twitter, personal tiktok, youtube channel, fanart reddit
somebody give me some credit here
hiii!!!
Can I request Hobbie w/ a gyaru gf, I can imagine it working with gyaru starting off as a rebellion against japan's beuty/ social standard <3
落ち着く？(calm down?)
(hobie x gyaru!gf)
warning: really bad translations!! i don’t speak japanese #sorry
a/n: technically, no gender is named in this. but it is DEFINITELY a fem fic. anyway: be who you want because at the end of the day, you're opinion is the only one that truly matters. #reqsopen #messageme #sorry this took so long my dad had surgery and i was stuck taking care of him but he's all good
ill provide translations dw
the stares weren’t unfamiliar, in fact, you embraced it. it came with having some semblance of a personality that these people clearly feared admired. you just wish yours, and hobie’s, appearance alike weren’t so abstract to the general public.
it's as if you were committing a war crime by having a tan. in japan, any difference from the norm is seen as an insult to those who surround you. truthfully though, that was why you began dressing gyaru in the first place.
conforming had never been your thing, especially when it came to how you dressed. you were always one to disobey even when you got a nagging grandmother in your ear.
"おじさんたちの前に姿をさらすことになる、" (cover up, you're exposing yourself to your uncles.)
a common phrase that plagues the minds of all young teens in japan. the idea that you need to cover up, instead of your uncles needing not to stare. she means well truly but it's just a showcase of how plagued the mind is of those who grew up and reside in japan.
"looking lovely as always my dear," his thick english accent coats your mind. a hand wraps around your shoulder.
hobie. at least you had one person that you could voice your woes to.
"hungry?" he asks as he stretches slightly. the two of you met in the heart of kawaramachi. a charming street that over looks a dazzling river. although you couldn't bring yourself to care in this moment.
you turn to look up at him, covering in diy piercings and tattered clothes that, even in london, are seen as trashy. although, he didn't seem nearly as bothered by the situation at hand. how people now adays sneer and turn away from any expression of a sense of self.
"いいえ, ぼくのおばあちゃん practically shoved fruit down my throat this morning," you say with a slightly exasperated tone. (no, my grandma practically shoved fruit down my throat this morning)
"wha's up, luv?" he say in a cool tone, but lying underneath holds a bit of concern for your, clearly annoyed, timbre.
"don't you think this is a bit bullshit?" you say looking forward as you walk side by side down the streets of kyoto. "like even a little," you say referencing the people who can' t seem to take their eyes off the two of you. like you're some zoo animal.
"wha? them people? don' pay attention to them. they're bloody barmy." he says, you're suprised he's missing the point.
you grumble at his words. "why do i have to be the one to ignore it. why can't they just not stare in the first place. we've got a myriad of tourist attractions and yet my makeup and clothes are the only things they can keep their fucking eyes on."
ordinarily, you'd wait to voice your opinions until you reach a more secluded area. especially since foul language is a more frowned upon subject. but today you felt like pointing out the issues with society. with the standards for women.
thin, fair skin, straight hair, minimal makeup.
pray tell you experiment with makeup. maybe wear a short skirt and vibrant colors. god forbid you wear anything revealing in public. may as well give your obaasan a heart attack the second you put any jewelry with color on yourself. (a commonly used name for grandmother, in japanese)
hobie hums and looks down at you. "you're really chuffed 'bout this aren't you dove?"
"you aren't?"
"im formulatin'" responds non chalantly. you take a deep breath. you knew you couldn't change the who world over night but if one person wouldn't gawk at you as you walked down the street that would be mighty nice. you lean into his side. "how 'bout we think how daft this is over a cuppa,"
you nod softly, almost undetectable to those who aren't paying attention to your every move. "do you get bothered by the stares?"
hobie looks up. considering his height, he practically towers over you and the rest of japan. his eyes scan the crowd, catching all the eyes that fall over him and you. he sighs.
"no' anymore," he says
"anymore?" you half expected hobie to just say no. to have always been as unbothered as he is now. to never have needed to learn the skill of ignoring the whispers and distraught stares that befall him.
he nods silently and leads you into a small restaurant. it smells of herbs and soup. a mix between sweet and salty. the scent of a tea immediately calms your nervous system. hobie slots the two of you into a corner.
"luv, i wasn't always li' this,"
"well i know, i just, you always seems so confident. like nothing gets on your nerves besides capitalism and those white dogs that are always barking." you say it semi sincerely but you smile when your joke earns a chuckle from hobie.
"you are a sight," he says glancing over you. it's a comforting feeling as he takes in your unique appearance. the tan you sport, even though it's nearing winter, and the colors too. almost completely neon, sans the animal print that you don on your boots.
he scans over your face. your eccentric makeup, all perfectly practiced and executed on your face. he grins.
"you 'on't need anybody else to tell you tha'," he says. "sure they might stare, but their opinion is rubbish."
you smile. it's rare you get hobie in such a state where he truly speaks from his heart. but you can't get enough. it's just you and hobie. at the end of the day, that's all you truly need.
i love size kink and dumbification don’t even GET ME STARTED. i could write novels