desiderium | m. o'hara

twenty-seven*

Man the plot really just keeps growing

An absurd amount of shirtless Mig in this one idk guys just the way it goes ig (I am completely sane)

TW: no goddamn minors I just had to block someone for reading the adult chapters while being underaged I'm not fucking kidding with this okay I'm genuinely so mad don't test me I don't give second chances alr

"Ready?" I ask.

Miguel nods. I rest the needle gun against his shoulder and pinch down on the trigger. The thick needle slices through his flesh. The vibrant, green serum is shot from the vial and into his arm. I pull the gun away and place it back in its holder for sterilisation.

Miguel expels a breath from his nose and rotates his shoulder. We're in his home lab after having just dropped Rosalina off at school, and I'd offered to be his lab assistant when he informed me that his next shot was needed on the drive home. His DNA succumbing to the spliced spider genes still happens quicker in this reality than he's used to.

  He leans back in his chair and sighs with relief, and my hand automatically reaches out to thread my fingers through his thick, dark hair to further soothe him. His bare, scarred, almond-tanned torso swells and falls with each slow breath. His shirt's slung across his thighs.   

  I watch the serum work its (scientific) magic in real time; his pinprick pupils dilate back to normal size, the tense line of his shoulders slacken, his teeth stop grinding and his expression relaxes. Miguel looks as though he's just stepped into a hot spring on a chilly winter's day. My worry is soothed.

I press my lips to where I'd injected him. Kisses make all booboos better according to Rosalina's intensive scientific knowledge, and who am I to disagree? His red eyes, softer than they were just moments ago, drift to me in amusement.

"Gracias, cariño." Miguel brings his hand up and touches my chin with his fingertips affectionately.

"De nada," I hum, and kiss his bare shoulder again, before lifting my head and kissing him properly.

He doesn't need to reach up far to kiss me despite his sitting and my standing, but even the subtle height I have on him, even just the slight way in which his eyes have to lift to mine, makes me shiver with delight.

He places one hand on my cheek, the other on my hip. My knee drops to the chair between his thighs. My lips part into the kiss, and the heat of his mouth mingles with my breath. If it weren't for pesky human needs, I'd kiss him forever.

Miguel snatches my wrist when my touch begins to slide down his pec, over the small bulb of his nipple, and drifts towards his Adonis belt. He pulls my struggling fingers away from himself and breaks our kiss to send me a pointed look. I gasp for breath.

"We need to get to work," Miguel reminds.

"Lyla just told me that the patches arrived," I say airily, suggestively, and use my free hand to ghost my nails up his neck and slide them through the locks at the base of his head.

  Miguel shudders, blissed for a second, before sharpening his focus and grabbing my other hand, too. He reaffirms that pointed look from before with emphasis as I pout.

  "That's great, but I have a multiverse to look after," he says. He yanks me closer by our linked hands and grins. "So stop trying to get into my pants, tentadora."

  I tilt my head. "I'm not trying to get into your pants, though. I'm trying to get you out of them."

  "Y/n." Miguel tugs me even closer with a chuckle. My forehead rests upon his. "I'm serious. I'm distracted enough as is."