Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tuesday has never been your favourite day.

When you return home, you feel your body ache and a glooming weight hovering above your head. Something just irks you today and all you want to do is retreat to your room until the whole day is over. At least, there are only a few hours left until Tuesday ends. Another seven hours left, to be precise. Even the thought of it still dampens your mood and you wish that time would speed up so you can get over the Tuesday blues.

The moment you arrive home, you’re greeted with brief quietness, before hearing someone going through the cupboards in the kitchen. Although you acknowledge Miguel's home first, you don’t walk past to greet him. Instead, you go straight to the second floor and into your room. Shutting the door behind you, you strip off your work clothes and hop into the shower. The warm water calms your skin and loosens your muscles. Yet, you feel dissatisfied even when you come out clean, smelling fresh and changed into comfortable baggy loungewear.

You dive into the comfort of your bed, tangling yourself under the duvet that makes your muscles curl comfortably. Something vibrates under your pillow and when your hand moves under to reach for your phone — pulling it out to your sight — it lights up a received message from Miguel. He tells you that he’s planning to run some errands and asks if you would like anything. 

Your reply is polite but a little unenthusiastic. It wasn’t long after texting Miguel back that you heard a knock on your door. The barrier opens and your roommate peaks his head in by the doorway. Your eyes immediately meet Miguel’s crimson eyes. “Long day?” He asks.

You sigh and nod, pressing your lips together. “Extremely. Today is just… I don’t know, not my day.”

“Lo siento, bonita (I’m sorry, beautiful),” Miguel says. He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “I had a feeling you weren’t yourself when you got back.”

“S’okay.” You shrug. “Just a few more hours until Tuesday is over.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence between the two of you. You twiddle your thumbs, unsure of what to do when you feel the bed shifted under its weight when Miguel takes it forward to sit on the bed in front of you. His thumb and index fingers reach out for your chin and gently angle your face up to meet his gaze. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I’ll be okay,” you shoot him a soft smile. “Maybe I’ll sleep early tonight to let the time pass.”

Miguel goes quiet when you say this. He gazes away to his right — seemingly in thought – before his eyes meet yours again. “There could be something we can do to pass the time. But only if you want to.” 

This has caught your attention. “What are you thinking of?” 

“Today may have not been a nice day for you, but we could change that.” Miguel begins. “The continuation of our challenge from yesterday.” 

Your chest tightens a little as you hitch a breath, recalling the deal made and yesterday’s events. It heats your cheeks and goosebumps run down your back when your mind replays the way your body aches in pleasure when he thrusts deep into you. A sudden jolt of pulse travels down to your cunt as you think about the way he rubbed your clit yesterday with fervent abandon from the challenge. 

You’re now reminded that today is the second day of the week’s challenge. 

“It might help you forget about what’s upsetting you today.” Miguel continues, his tone lowers and sounds a little husky. He pauses for a moment as he gently circles on your inner wrist in a mindless pattern. “I want you to take the reins this time to make you feel empowered. Have you done whatever you want to me.” 

In that moment, your chest tightens even more with the way your heart races. This is the first time you’ve been offered something like this, and throughout your situationship with him, Miguel has always been the one to lead in the sexual activities. So his proposal has taken you by surprise and yet you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the new prospect specially made for you.  

“Really?” Your voice holds an innocence to it. “You’ll let me do whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want, nena,” Miguel smirks. “I’m yours to use as your playground.” 

You gaze away as you think, still feeling the rush of excitement and arousal. “There’s always something that I’ve been wanting to try.” You begin, pause for a dramatic effect, and then look at him with feign innocence and curiosity. “Thigh fucking?” 

Miguel raises a brow at you and a wide grin appears on his face. “You plan on torturing me with those sweet, soft thighs of yours, bonita?” 

You giggle softly, “Not torture you, per se. More like… want to know what it feels like.” 

“Mm,” Miguel hums. His hand reaches out to brush away some unkempt strands of hair out of your view. “If that’s what you want to do, then let’s do it.” 

Nodding, the two of you began to undress each other’s pants, the clothes all tossed aside in the corner of your bedroom. You quickly settled on the and laid your back on the headboard, with Miguel joining to be in front of you. He kneels on the bed and spreads your legs open, moving closer between them. He takes hold of his large cock in his hand and places his throbbing member on your bikini area, giving it playful taps that have you squirming a little and giggling. 

You slowly bring your legs together, the inner of your thighs brushing against his member softly between the thigh gaps. Then with your legs clasped together, you raise your legs and then down slowly. Soon, the motion repeats as your inner thighs drag his cock up and down in strokes. You swear you could feel his member throb between your muscles. 

“Oh, mierda, that’s it,” Miguel murmurs with his eyes closed. “Your thighs are so soft and warm.” 

“You think so?” You ask as you proceed to move your thighs up and down, looking at him under his gaze innocently. 

Miguel smirks and lets out a breathy chortle once you’re confident stroking him with your thighs. Bring your upper legs up and down like you’re doing a seated knee crunch exercise on his cock with your upper leg muscles. With every stroke, Miguel’s member quivers and he groans. His chest is rising up and down slowly, eyes closed as his lips parted slightly whenever he breathes heavily. 

“Fuck, your thighs.” A low growl emits out of Miguel. His brows creased as he pants. “So soft and beautiful and mierda (fuck)—” He let out a breathy, almost strangled gasp as his eyes gazed down at his cock and your thighs stroked him. “Tan perfecta, hermosa.” 

The praises coming out of his mouth feeds your confidence and it certainly shows it on the smile of your face. You continue to tease him and perhaps like Miguel said earlier — torture him a little. Seeing the way the foreskin of his cock would roll up and down to the movements of your thighs in between them — hiding between the muscles and revealing itself like it was a peek-a-boo game. The head of his cock is already glistened with precum. “Something else.” He rasps. “Please.” 

“Oh? You’re telling me what to do, now?” You ask with a raised brow, your tone teasing. “Though you told me that you’re my playground to use.” 

“You’re right,” Miguel rasps with a sheepish smirk. Still using his thighs to stroke his cock, you can see the way his brows furrowed together as Miguel breathes rhythmically in an attempt for some sort of control and restraint. “Are you going to keep playing with me like this?” 

You glance up at him. The movement of your thighs going up and down slows down until it comes to a stop. His cock throbs, being buried in between the soft muscles of your upper legs. “You’re right, I should do something about it.” You declare. 

Carefully, you open up your legs, seeing the way it glistened with arousal ─ a mixture of his and yours painting your skin. You already miss the way his member feels between your thighs but you have a different idea. Leaning yourself forward close to Miguel, your right hand reaches for his cock and soon, your hand replaces your thighs to stroke him. A gentle grip on his dick as you move up and down on him. 

You hear Miguel groaning your name, sounding even more hoarse than before. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He says brusquely, though it sounds gentle. “Tú, pequeña zorra (you little vixen).” 

“Whatever do you mean?” You giggle softly. 

“Want to have your pussy around my cock.” Miguel murmurs. His head is tilted back with eyes closed, deeply groaning and his dick pulsates even more in your hand. 

The growing smile on your face doesn’t falter as you take full control of Miguel’s pleasure, watching the way he’s beginning to lose composure. You feel more confident and empowered in this situation because you’ve always been a bit of a pillow princess and letting Miguel have his way with you. But this time, the role is reversed. 

“How do you want to have my pussy?” You ask, still stroking his cock with your hand. “Should I ride you?”

“Yes, yes por favour (please),” Miguel says, his voice sounding breathy. He groans again and the muscles of his biceps tighten as his body shudders in pleasure. His member twitches in your palm. “Hermosa, nena, por favor (beautiful, baby, please).” 

You chuckle softly, seeing how Miguel has succumbed to a whimpering mess. A different sight but a beautiful one. You’ve always known Miguel to be confident, intimidating, and somewhat snarky. But in the moment and right in front of you, he is neither of those. He is yours to toy with and as he said before—he’s your playground to be used for the night. 

“What did I tell you about telling me what to do?” You lightly scold Miguel. And yet, your hand slowly comes to a stop and lets him go. Getting up onto your knees, you gently nudge Miguel to lean back a little. When he does so, you carefully crawl onto him, settling yourself on his lap. His hands instantly go to hold onto your waist. The two of you stare at each other, eyes gazing over each other’s expressions and facial features. 

“You ready?” Your voice is soft when you ask, hand reaching down to hold his cock and aligning it upwards between your legs. 

“Yes,” Miguel whispers. His eyes darken in lust, and the grip on your hips is strong as if he’s trying to imprint his fingers into your skin. Almost holding back your breath, you mentally prepare to embrace yourself, remembering to take it nice and slow. 

Steady, you lower yourself down onto Miguel, the head of his cock breaches in slowly until the two of you are groaning and moaning. Your walls warmly welcome the intrusion, wrapping around his cock in a vice grip till you could feel the tip of its head brushing inside your womb. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You rest your forehead on Miguel’s when the shudder of pleasure overwhelms you. Breathing softly as you hold onto him, mind clouded in lust and sheepishness. When a thought inadvertently enters your mind, the notion is forgotten when you feel his hands guiding you close to him by the waist. 

“You’re doing so well,” Miguel says softly, his lips almost brushing yours. 

His words made your heart leap and you exhaled a soft sigh that you didn't realise was holding back. “I want you to get comfortable.” 

“I already am.” The corner of Miguel’s mouth curves up in a grin. His hands cup your rear cheeks and he lifts you easily off the bed to switch positions. Miguel sits at the edge of the bed and his gaze focuses on you, his hands going onto your hips as you proudly sit on his lap. 

You begin to roll your hips as you sit on his lap, with his cock settled buried inside you; its girth hits your vaginal walls, his pelvis rubbing your clit and you swear you could feel his cockhead hitting your cervix. The muscles of Miguel’s thighs flex a little underneath your weight and he heaves heavily when your cunt grips onto his dick whenever you roll yourself onto him. “That’s it,” he groans. “Grinding on my cock so well.” 

With your hands placed behind his muscular thighs as you steady yourself in this whole new position, you angle your hips and begin to bounce on him. It starts gently at first for you to adjust to the feeling and idea of taking charge. But then, the pace picks up moments later as you begin to feel comfortable. The wanton swiftness of Miguel’s cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly. You’re unsure who’s controlling the movements — whether it's your rhythm or his hand on your hips guiding you to lift up and then down onto his length. But it doesn’t matter who did what because being on top of Miguel O’Hara feels like the sweetest and most well-deserved victory for yourself. 

The bedroom is filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping with mixed arousal, your breathy gasp and his throaty groans. It doesn’t take long until you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, making you drive your hips up and down on Miguel faster. You hear him shudder a breath, his hands grab your buttcheeks. “Oh fuck, hermosa—” 

A throaty groan from Miguel and a strangled cry from you fill in the bedroom. Your cunt tightens around his cock and it throbs just in time for Miguel to spill his cum inside of you. Your clit pulsates from the pleasure, the two of you gasping and groaning from the euphoric sensation of cumming at the same time. 

“Díos,” Miguel murmurs breathlessly. His lips brush on the valley of your chest as he catches his breath. Your eyes are closed, regaining your breath as well. “That was… wow,” Miguel adds. He chuckles softly. “Didn’t know you have a wild side of you.” 

“I…” Your voice trails. A sheepish smile curves up the corners of your lips. “Was that too much?” 

Miguel laughs and then shakes his hand. His hands squeeze your hips. “If anything, it was the best.” 

Your arms circle his neck as you press yourself chest to chest on him. The climax settles down, leaving the room quiet. Neither of you pull away despite how overly warm and a little sweaty the two of you are, and you prefer the way you’re both not separating from each other yet. 

"Hey," Miguel's soft tone catches your attention. "I have been meaning to ask. Why is Tuesday your least favourite day? Is it a personal thing?"

His question surprises you because you didn’t think he or anyone in your life would notice that the second day of the week is your least favourite day. You stay silent, figuring out how to put your explanation in words. “In all my life, Tuesday seems to be the day where I’m out of luck and rough days seem to happen that would hinder my mood. A bad grade at school when I was younger. Or I found out that one of the co-workers I hate at work made a complaint about me for something insignificant. Even when… my mum passed away a few years ago, it was on a Tuesday too.”

Things fall peacefully quiet in your bedroom as the two of you sit together on the sheets. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Miguel says apologetically. The pad of his thumb brushes on your inner wrist and you don't pull your hand away. Instead, let his warmth comfort you. 

“Well, I hope that I’ve made your Tuesday a little better for you,” Miguel adds softly. He still caresses where your pulse and arteries are pumping under your skin.

Your eyes gaze at him and a smile appears on your face. You couldn’t help but agree because he did make your day a little brighter than the other Tuesdays you experienced in the past.

Another day has passed, and by Wednesday, you’re getting the hang of this week.  

When you come home, you’re greeted by the smell of spices lingering throughout the hallway of the house. It’s a little unusual because it’s only 5:30pm and you return to the house early after work. No one is home around this time. So today catches you by surprise. 

“Miguel?” You call out, taking a step in. You go to the kitchen and hear something sizzling on the stove. He stands in the kitchen with his back facing you, and you realise that he’s cooking. You didn’t expect him to return home this early.   

When Miguel turns around, he has his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, an apron protecting his front. Your heart skips a beat as a thought of Miguel being domestic and homely makes your stomach flutter in awe. “Hey, you’re back.” 

“I am,” you say, keeping your gaze on him. The kitchen is warm just as when you entered and the ignitor on the stove is turned on. Something is bubbling in one pot and the other fizzles. The aroma of spices fills up your nostrils and it smells delicious and homemade. “Someone’s cooking something nice.”  

“My speciality for our dinner today,” Miguel says. He reaches his hand out towards your face and with the back of his fingers, he brushes away the strands of hair out front of the corner of your eye and tucks them behind your ear. “Why don’t you go rest and wait for me until I call you? It should be done in half an hour or so.” 

His touch makes you soft, and you nod your head, complying with his words. “Don’t take too long. I’m getting hungry.”  

“It won’t,” Miguel grins and focuses back on the stove. “Tonight, I will please your expectations.”  

True to his words, the dinner Miguel surprised you to meet your expectations—possibly beyond what you expect too. It’s rather romantic and intimate for a dinner between two friends with an indoor picnic setting, but you don’t mind. What you have with Miguel O’Hara is surely beyond that—more than friends and housemates. It’s beneficial, but it’s also… more.  

You should just stop reading too much into it. Even when he’s putting churros on your lips and telling you to open your mouth for him (to take a bite of the food, of course). Looking into your eyes with such an intense hold, like you’re the only one in his vision.  

“That was superb.” You say as you walk into the kitchen. “It feels like an indoor picnic.”  

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Miguel says. You clean off the food remaining on the plates and cutlery as he loads them in the dishwasher. There isn’t much leftover to clean up, and when you look at the counter expecting more cutlery to wash off for the dishwasher, there’s a single cup of unused ice left.   

“Hey, do you need any ice for your drink?” You ask Miguel and look into the cup, the ice clinks when you give it a quick shake. “There’s still some left in here.”  

“No,” Miguel replies. Moments later, he turns to look at you, and his hand reaches for the cup. “Maybe for one thing.”  

His fingers dip into the contents, and Miguel pulls out one ice cube that has slightly melted but still retains its original shape. A drip of water trickles down his finger, and he brushes it off with his thumb. “Have you heard of sensual play?”  

A flash of curiosity appears on your face. You’re no stranger to the concept of it, and some of the adult-rated books you read explore the concept of erotic pleasure. It can be as simple as from a touch of a finger trailing down one’s body to extreme measures of testing the limits of the five senses until they quiver and beg for release. “I have, yes.”  

Miguel nods and looks at the ice, then back at you. “Curious to explore that?”  

You gulped and flicked your eyes to him, your throat tightening at the thought of it and your heart racing. This has to be part of the challenge, right? And in all honesty, you are rather curious about the idea of sensual play. Miguel is skilled with his hands, as you recall the way his large, warm, and rough texture of his fingers explores your skin as he touches you. A shiver of desire runs down to your clit and aches as you recall the way Miguel rubs your little pearl and plays with your aroused folds.  

“Yes.” You say. “I want to give it a go.”  

Miguel chuckles and smirks. “Where do you want the ice to be?”  

You think about the question and glance over your shoulder, feeling his gaze on you. “Maybe behind my ear and slowly make its way down?”  

“Of course.” Miguel nods his head. “This will get a little cold, but it won’t be long, I promise.”  

You feel his fingers hover behind your ear right before the ice chills your skin as soon as cold shivers down your body, nearly making you flinch. Taking in a soft and sharp breath, you force yourself to stay still and take in the coldness. And then, your sense of touch accepts it, letting you feel every tingle and shudder as the ice cools against your skin.   

“How does it feel?” Miguel’s voice is low as he whispers close to your ear. 

“It’s okay,” you reply. The ice cube slides up and down the side of your neck in a slow and steady motion, and water droplets that have seemingly melted the ice trickle down the column of your neck. “Nice even. It’s not as cold as I was expecting.”  

“Good,” his voice murmurs close to your ear, his voice like a velvet caress. “That’s good to hear.”  

Miguel repeats the motion of gliding the ice up and down the nape of your neck. A soft sigh escapes from your mouth as you tilt your head back, relaxing the muscles of your neck. Your skin adjusts to the coldness, and what remains is the sensual tingling that makes you close your eyes and breathe quietly and a little ragged.  

More little droplets of water trickled down your neck. “Can I try something else on a different part of you?” 

You can feel Miguel hover next to you, and you open your eyes to meet his red-coloured eyes gazing at you. “Yeah, sure.”  

Miguel nods and pulls the ice cube away from the back of your neck. He reaches for the mug and pulls out a new ice cube about the same size as the one he had used. Circling one arm around your waist and the other arm over your chest, he moves the ice down your cleavage and slowly glides down the valley of your breasts, moving it up and down. “How does this feel?”  

Your lips parted slightly from the coldness, and you rolled your shoulders as it sent shivers down your back. When you looked down, there was a trail of wetness between your breasts and your skin glistened. “It feels good.”  

Miguel smirked at your response, and he dragged the ice cube up your chest, then circled it around your right breast. “I’ve been thinking about us for the past two days,” he whispered. “How are you feeling so far with the challenge?” 

“I’ve been enjoying it. Truly.” You spoke. “But I still think you’re crazy for suggesting something like this with me.”  

He chuckled, “That’s the thrill, isn’t it?”  

Miguel’s fingers brushed against your nipple and circled the ice cube around your areola, making you gasp out loud. “Look at that perky nipple,” he murmured. “All wet and sensitive. Must be quite cold, huh?”  

“Miguel,” you gasped softly, arching your back a little. The coldness tingled your nipple as he continued to rub the ice on your nipple. His other hand pinched and rolled another of your taut nipples between his fingers.  

“Guapa (pretty).” He whispered and pressed a kiss on your cheek. “You’re so beautiful to me.”  

Blood rushed down to your clit at his praise, and Miguel didn’t stop his ministration. His lips trailed down from your cheek, moving lower to the jugular of your neck and shoulder. Your nipples were both warm and both from his touch and the ice. It made your skin hot with the need for Miguel’s touch—or just the thought of him in general.  

“Should I rub it on your pussy?” Miguel whispered into your ear. “I bet it’ll feel really good.”  

You blushed at his words, and there was a faint smell of your arousal between your legs. When you flickered your eyes to look at Miguel, there was a grin on his smirk, and his eyes twinkled in amusement. His hand travelled down, and the coldness from the ice chilled your skin despite it not touching you. 

“Ah!” You softly gasped and squirmed a little. The coldness hit you as Miguel rubbed the ice on your folds, lubricating them. He rubbed it against your clit and it sent shivers down your body, causing you to tremble in his arms and squirm even more. “Miguel, it’s…”

“Damn, hermosa, you’re trying to suck my fingers in or something?” Miguel asks teasingly, and you tell that he’s smirking at the question. His other hand remains on your left breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, as he leans down to suck the pulse on your neck gently. 

He chuckles and rubs the ice on your folds; it’s slippery, and you feel little droplets of water trickling down his fingers. With your legs slightly shaken as you feel yourself more aroused by the second, you can’t help yourself to push your hips back and rub your ass against his strained and bulging loins. You sound breathy when you softly moan and groan, responding to him. “It’s cold.” 

You hear a growl rumbling from Miguel’s chest and your back shivers when you feel his clothed cock twitch between your butt. His grip squeezes on your hip. “Bend over the counter.” He commands with a hoarse voice. 

When you do as you’re told—bending over the counter for him—it earns you a chuckle. Miguel then chucks the ice into the sink without moving an inch from his spot. The ice clanks against the stainless steel sink. 

You hear the rustling of clothes and belt unbuckle, knowing that Miguel has his pants taken off. There’s a soft, squelching noise when you turn to look over your shoulder and he grunts softly whilst stroking his cock. “You ready, beautiful?” Miguel asks and then he lightly smacks the side of your ass. 

As soon as you nod your head, his length stretches your walls open as he enters. You moan and Miguel groans when he bottoms out that sends shivers down your back. Less than a moment, he pulls his hips back and thrusts back into you that turns into a rhythm pace of thrusting. 

Your back arches and arms stretch on the counter top, the kitchen filled with groans and moans from you and Miguel. “You’ve been a good girl the past two days in this challenge,” Miguel whispers. His lips brush the shell of your earlobe and grazes his teeth on the tiny, soft skin. “It’s making you feel good, huh? Trusting me to take good care of you and your needs. Toda una princesa (what a princess).” 

When Miguel presses himself deep into you, your body trembles as he stays still, his member twitching in your warm walls. The kitchen is almost eerily quiet except the soft panting coming from both of you. You feel his fingers gripping your hips and the outline of his V-line on his lower abdomen against your ass. Then, nothing happens. A standstill but his cock is deeply embedded in your pussy. 

Suddenly, Miguel pulls back—you’re confused—and then he thrusts his member back into you so that you moan loudly. The pace picks up faster and harder, squelching noises from him constantly thrusting and burying his pack into your pussy repeatedly is drowned by the sounds of your cries and his grunts. 

Miguel’s hand goes under your chin and pulls you back against his chest, making you arch your back. He doesn’t stop thrusting into you even then. You’re dizzy, high, and euphoric, being pounded from behind like an animal in heat. Then it hits you; your orgasm comes in like crashing, tidal waves. Thighs quivering, lips parted open as you moan and cry, your cunt gripping around Miguel’s cock like a vice, fluttering and clenching. He still goes on, but it’s now sloppy and urgent, feeling his length quivering. And then, Miguel follows and cums loads and ropes of white as he orgasms with a grunt. 

The aftermath of both climaxes leaves you and Miguel breathless. Panting softly together. He weighs on your back as you try to catch your breath. He’s resting his forehead on the back of your head. “You okay?” Miguel whispers. He combs strands of your hair to the back in a ponytail and kisses just below the area that connects your jawline and neck. “Did I go too far?” 

“No,” you shake your head. Despite your weariness from the intense pleasure, you turn to your side to look at Miguel, your eyes roaming his face. “That was perfect.” 

“Yeah?” Miguel smiles, his eyes raking over your face. “You can tell me to stop at any time. You know that, right? At any point if it’s too much.”

Your eyes gaze at his face; the way his dark brown eyes captivate you with just one stare, and his lips parted just so, ever slightly open. Oh Goodness, he’s a lot more handsome than you recall. “I don’t think I want to stop.” 

Miguel smiles and gently pinches the tip of your nose by surprise. “Then we have four days left to go.”