#cough cough miguel smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fhrlclln · 1 year

Text

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 1

SPOILERS ??!!

now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.

but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3

here’s part 2 !!

mild smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.

leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.

and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.

you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.

miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.

your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.

then silence.

silence….

more silence….

silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.

“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.

“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.

“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“

“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.

“about the situation. miles morales.”

“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.

“it’s more of a personal question for you-“

“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,

“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”

something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.

“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”

“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“

“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.

“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.

“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”

“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.

“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.

“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.

“you’re my assistant, know your place.”

your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.

“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.

“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.

“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”

the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.

“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.

“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”

“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”

“y/n, don’t…”

“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.

“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.

“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.

your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.

“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.

“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.

“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.

“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.

“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.

“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.

“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #oscar isaac #fnhrlcllnwrites

4K notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 4k

summary: after finding him wounded in an empty alleyway, against your better judgment, you decide to patch him up in your apartment. you expect that to be the end of it, never to see him again, that is, until you do.

warnings: piv, rough sex, dirty talking, biting, claws make a brief appearance, mild degradation (he calls you slut once), mention of female masturbation

You live in a world without heroes. Yet, the villains roam free.

You’re used to it by now, walking through the damp alleyways. You hear a shout here and there, always keeping your head bowed as you walk past whatever might be going on. Once upon a time, this bothered you. But after a knife to your stomach and a punch to the cheek, you learned to look the other way around, no matter how painful it might be. Sometimes you find yourself wondering why this might be. You always assumed some type of ying yang situation should be in place, making everything right, but you seem to be living in a world without good. Without light.

You don’t know what prompts you to do it. You’re walking back from work, the scent of rain and the stench of exhaust thick in the air. All you want to do is get to your cramped apartment before the downpour.

You think it’s the wind that makes you turn your head, you hate when your eyes water and dry out. When you do turn, you stare into the familiar abyss of the alleyway behind your apartment. It’s truly pitch black. Despite the darkness, you see a faint movement in shadows, a loud sound, a crash. You see a flash of red, blue. Your eyes narrow—what the?

You know well that you shouldn’t, that whatever was lurking in the shadows would be bad news, but you do it anyway. With a grunt, you open the flashlight of your phone and take a step closer. There’s a man laying on the cold ground, he doesn’t seem to be moving.

“Hello?” you call out. No answer. “Um, are you drunk or high? Should I call an ambulance?”

The broad figure groans and your heart nearly lurches. “No,” he mumbles. “No doctors.”

With a slight tremor in your step, you come closer. You shine the light into his face, his brows furrow, an annoyed scowl etching into his handsome features. Your lips part with a soft exhale. He’s so handsome.

Then you get a good look at the rest of him—what the hell is he wearing?

“Do you need help?” you ask, unsure. He doesn’t seem to be bleeding, his eye looks a bit swollen though. Wait, scratch that, you think you spot some blood on his lips. “Should I get you anything?”

Maybe you sound foolish, but you know better than to just call 911 for a random person. Everyone is a criminal these days. Fuck, if he was a criminal you should call the cops, this city is seriously starting to cloud your better judgment.

“No cops,” he chokes and coughs, as if he can read your thoughts. “Go away, I’ll be fine.”

No, he won’t.

He knows it. You know it.

“I live right next door,” you answer against your better judgment. “I have a first aid kit. I can patch you up if you want? I don’t wanna brag, but I am a nurse in training.”

He makes a sound that is similar to a chuckle but the sound quickly fades into a vicious cough. You tuck the phone into your pocket and lean over, “Alright big guy, you’re coming with me,” you attempt to throw his arm over your shoulder but that proves to be more difficult. “Can you stand? Even a little.”

He nods and straightens up a bit. You’re still carrying most of his weight but you manage to get him past the door and onto your couch.

You must’ve thrown him a little too hard because he lets out a loud grunt, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stifle the sound.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “Just wait for me here, I’ll come back with water and the first aid kit.”

The man makes another sound. You’re starting to think this is his only form of communication.

When you come back, he’s still where you left him. Albeit looking a bit more alert now, eyes constantly scanning your humble apartment. You can’t really blame him though, you would do the same thing. You eye him warily, then place the glass of water on the coffee table. He glares at it like it’s poison.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He scoffs, “I don’t think you could even if you tried,” he answers, tongue moving over his bloody bottom lip. He points at the table. “And there’s a coaster right there.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

Despite your sharp tone, you place the glass on the coaster and sit on the coffee table, the small first aid kit in hand. “Does that thing have a zipper, or. . . ?”

His right brow and lip cock up simultaneously. You’re acutely aware that no matter what you do, you’ll never be able to understand what’s going on in that head of his—Not that you want to. He’s a stranger. A man that looks strong enough to hold you by the neck before you can reach the pepper spray nestled in your bag.

The silence makes you uneasy, and when you finally open your mouth to speak, he leans forward. “Don’t freak out,” he grunts.

“Why would I freak out—” The rest of the sentence dies in your throat, his suit glitches—glitches—like a damn video game. It blinks once, twice and you swear you can see little particles glimmering on his skin, fading away from reality. Panic flaring in your gut, you look down.

Pants still on. And here your thought that the entire thing was a one-piece suit.

“I said don’t freak out,” he repeats, eyebrow raised and head tilted to the side. You snap your mouth shut.

“I’m not freaking out,” you say, voice shrill. “Who’s freaking out? Not me.”

His shoulders are broad, arms muscular with thick veins meandering down. You’ve never been a fan of veins popping out but whoever this man was made it look good. You swallow over and over in a weak attempt to wet the inside of your mouth. You fail helplessly. You’re not even aware that you’re holding the first aid kit with an iron grip, knuckles aching from the pressure. His torso is completely bare now.

“I don’t have a zipper,” he says unhelpfully, unaware of you behaving straight out of a 1950s cartoon.

“I can see that.”

God, he is the weirdest stray you ever brought over.

He points at the box, “So do you actually know how to use what’s inside or were you just bluffing when you said you were a nurse?”

“A nurse in training,” you quip. “And no, I wasn’t bluffing.”

With great strength, you finally drag your eyes down his torso. There’s a splatter of blood, some of the drops rubbed into his skin and the crimson trail is followed up by a giant slash across his stomach. The bleeding had stopped which was a good sign. You lean closer, your fingers fiddling with the box at the same time, narrowing your gaze you notice the wound is deeper than you had initially thought.

“Whoever it was that attacked you got you good,” you murmur. Without a second thought, you slide off the coffee table and kneel in front of him, you miss the glint in his eyes as he looks down, miss the way he spreads his legs so you can fit better.

“How do you know it wasn’t me who attacked them?”

The rough tone of his voice prompts you to look up. For someone who’s been stabbed, he’s eerily calm. His arms are spread over the backrest, chest slowly rising up and down as his eyes flit across your face, searching. The muscle in his jaw twitches, lips stretching into something resembling a snarl. Suddenly you’re hyper-aware of where you are, the position you’re in. The sound of danger rings in your ears—you don’t even know this man’s name. Your breath catches in your throat, stomach jumping. You don’t know why you initially felt so comfortable with him, as if you were long-lost friends, but you aren’t. You were being reckless.

“Scared?” he asks, venomous, hunching over your frame, caging you in. Heat radiates from his thighs, a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping your insides. He hooks two fingers under your chin, lifts your head up. Your bottom lip quivers. “You should be. You live in a dangerous world.”

“And you don’t?” you counter, your voice barely above a whisper, your words hanging in the air, challenging his assertion. The question slips out before you can fully comprehend its weight, and you see his jaw tighten as he ponders for an answer.

You meticulously cleanse the wound, removing dirt and debris with steady hands. The sting of antiseptic fills the air, intermingling with the charged atmosphere. You’re not shy with the way you touch him, a simmering annoyance warming your gut. He can take it, you think applying further pressure. He doesn’t make a sound.

The dim light of the room accentuates the harsh contours of his face, and his piercing gaze feels like it's cutting through your soul. You drag your teth against the smooth surface of the inside of your cheek. You’ve never had a patient stand this still.

Finally, just as you complete the final wrap of the bandage, he gives you an answer.

“Not the same one as you do.”

Miguel O’hara was his name. He told you just before disappearing into the neon lights of the dark and cold city. You didn’t think much of it, you were sure you wouldn’t be seeing him again, which meant remembering his name was useless.

But your mind wouldn’t let him go. You tasted his name in the dark hours of the night, hand between your legs, coming as you thought of scenarios where instead of dousing his wound in antiseptic, you took his cock into his mouth, helping him in a different way. His suit left little to the imagination and now that your imagination roamed free, you’re glad that it was.

Convinced that he’ll never show up again, you continue on normally, half in fear due to the chaos around you, trying to do your best.

That was until he did show up.

You step out of the shower, water trickling down your skin, softened by the warm steam. The towel hangs loosely around your chest, on the verge of slipping off. You never quite mastered the art of securing it tightly, but living alone means you don't have to worry about walking around naked if it happens to fall off.

The window cracks open, cold air seeping through, chilling your freshly warmed body. Tension instantly builds in your body, your eyes slowly moving to the window. You see him then. Miguel. He pushes the window open and climbs in, not saying a word. You hold the towel tightly around you—a dream, you think, it has to be.

With quick, large steps, he crowds your space, forcing your back against the wall. The air is knocked from your lungs, your throat convulsing with a sudden panic. He’s not touching you.

“M-Miguel,” you whisper. “I didn’t—I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Neither did I,” he answers, large hands cupping your waist and pinning you to the wall. “I’m tired,” he adds, words dropping from his lips more like a punch than a plea. Like someone is squeezing the words out of him.

“What do you need?”

His eyes drop to your lips, a hungry gaze that sends shivers up your spine. You hold your breath. He’s so close, close enough that you feel his breath on your damp skin. He tilts his head to the side, eyes closing.

“I need to not think,” he answers painfully slow, tasting every word. “I need to not feel. I need to not worry. I need to disappear for a while.”

Miguel takes a long, languid breath. Filling his lungs with the scent of your watermelon body wash. His tongue pokes from between his lips, moving over the bottom one. “Can you give me that?”

His fingers tighten, the soft fabric of your towel bunching in his palm, you swear you feel the bite of nails despite the fluffy exterior. Your eyes search his. You know nothing of him. Only his name that he’d begrudgingly given you. Your pulse quickens, the rush of blood loud in your ears. He’s not here for you, that’s something you need to keep in mind before going any further. He’s here for the release, for the simple act of having another’s warmth surrounding him. You’re an escape. Something simple and easy he doesn’t have to think about when he runs off to deal with whatever he deals with.

After seconds that feel like hours, you decide you want to give that to him. You don’t mind the hurt you’ll feel after. Letting him take what he wants knowing that’ll affect you more than him. Something about him makes you not care.

“I can,” you breathe, instinctively searching for his lips with your own. “Do your worst Miguel O’hara.”

You drop the towel, damp fabric pooling at your ankles. His eyes widen briefly before smiling something wicked. His forehead touches yours, nose brushing your own as his lips ghost an inch away. Your breath catches in your throat, the need growing between your legs. A chuckle drops from his lips reminding you of gravel. You don’t share his humor, you just want to feel him.

“You don’t want my worst,” he grunts. “You’ll break.”

“I won’t.”

He scoffs but doesn’t argue. Miguel doesn’t attempt to probe you wrong, breaking things is meant to have consequences. You either try to fix it or ponder over what you’ve done, he wants none of that. Instead, he presses flush against you, body firm in contrast with the soft swell of your chest and stomach. Your nipples tighten. He crashes into you, tongue hungrily slipping between your lips as his mouth moves greedily. You feel hands on your chest, kneading, squeezing, pinching. You moan into his mouth, he swallows the sounds, grinding himself hard into you. You’re shaking, his body suffocating.

“If I touch you,” he says into your mouth, fingers skimming the outside of your thighs. “Will you be soaked for me?” With a whimper, you nod. He grins, canines looking sharper compared to what they did before, “Such a good little slut,” he growls.

Contrary to what he’d said, he doesn’t slip his fingers between your legs to see if you’re telling the truth. Instead, he slots his thick thigh between your bare legs, pushing the muscle up until you’re left gasping, your hands flailing as you wrap them around his broad shoulders. The pressure makes you dizzy, the fabric of his suit softer than what you expected, a delicious friction over your aching clit. You moan openly into his neck, teeth scraping against the vein.

“I’m going to fuck you like this,” he murmurs. “Up against the wall,” his suit fades away, cock hard against the soft planes of your stomach. You shudder as precome smears over the skin. He continues, licking your lips. “Then up against the window, want you to be loud. Want you to scream and tell me to take. . .”

The emphasis on the “t” sends a million tiny needles biting into your skin. Your chest heaves with the brush of his lips, you want to feel it again, the plush feeling of faux softness on your mouth. But he doesn’t give you that. He smiles a cruel smile, one that chills your skin but lights a fire in the pit of your stomach. He tilts his head.

“And take. . .”

You chase his lips, he refuses to give you what you want.

“And take. . .”

Your frustration grows, a desperate sound twists through you, and your fingers curl around his neck, knitting through his hair as you give the curls a warning tug. He doesn’t seem to be affected in the slightest. He drags his lips down your neck, hitches your one thigh up his hip, and positions his length against you. He doesn’t look at you, nor say another word. He fills you with one hard thrust, knocking you back against the wall, your body sliding up the rough interior. The stretch of him lingers on the line of being painful. There’s a bite to it, but also a deep pleasure that makes your legs shake.

“So fucking wet,” he rasps, sinking his teeth into your neck. It feels sharp enough that you think he breaks the skin, blood filling his mouth, but that’s not the case. The feeling quickly passes when his mouth crashes into yours in a messy kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, he doesn’t care. He takes what you give him and he does so violently, splitting you into two with every thrust.

He grabs handfuls of your hips, lifting you off the wall before slamming you back down with renewed fervor. He angles each thrust to the point of almost pain. You cry out, a long, desperate noise that almost drowns out his own, panting gruffly. You can feel the heat in your veins coursing through you as pleasure builds, the almost unbearable sensation sending you into overload. Your toes curl, your nails dig into his skin as his name leaves your lips in a plea for him to not stop. His hands grip you tighter as his movements become more violent, eyes locked together as they both reach the brink of ecstasy.

The look in his eyes, the furrow of his brows, the parting of his lips, the damp curls at the base of his scalp—it does something indescribable to you. You arch your back to give more for him. All your focus narrowing on the feeling of him.

Suddenly your body strains as he stills, the thunderous rumbling of your orgasm hitting you full force as you feel yourself tighten around his shaft in an attempt to prolong the blissful pleasure. His grip slackens and you fall forward against him, boneless as you feel the last throes of your orgasm lingering in your veins. You lick the salt off his skin, your body grinding sloppily against him.

“Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, still achingly hard inside of you. “Already?”

“I—I never came that quick before. . .” you answer with a slight slur of speech, you’re tingling all over.

You’re not sure but you think you see a hint of pride in those dark smug eyes, “Don’t think you’re off the hook,” he says. “You’re mine until the sun comes up.”

Miguel is a man of his word.

He fucks you up against the window, just like he said. Your breasts pressed up against the cold smooth surface as he takes you from behind. It burns. It burns yet you can only beg for more. You scream his name, fog up the window, the rough drag of his cock forcing the roll of your eyes every goddamn time. The feeling of being stretched wide never passes, each thrust like the first time.

He holds you by the nape, pushes you forward, the pressure only adding to the fire. You figure out soon he likes holding you like that. He enjoys shoving you up against things, adding to the idea that you’re just a fleeting moment and nothing more. When he pulls out you instinctively search for him with your hips. His cock lays heavy over the curve of your ass, he spreads you and presses his cock between the globes, rocking until thick ropes of come land on your back. You shudder, breathless, your vocabulary reduced to only his name.

You feel a grip on your chin and he turns you enough so that he can slot his lips against yours. Your neck aches but your part for him anyway, allowing the taste of him to flood all your senses. When he parts only a string of saliva connects you, your breathing coming in heavy pants.

A second later the world around you blurs and you quickly find yourself straddling him above the bed. The old furniture creaking in protest. You forget how nervous you would be if it were someone else, how self-conscience you would be riding a man but Miguel doesn’t give you a chance to think about it. His feet planted firmly on the bedding, he snaps his hips, burying himself deep into the tight fist of your cunt, over and over, until you’re stupid for him.

His name rips from your throat, you can’t even think of saying anything else. You attempt to muffle yourself with the back of your hand but he’s quick to yank it back down.

“No” he utters a low, guttural sound, hands coming up your back. “I said I wanted you to scream.”

He sounds unhinged, like something snapped inside of him. You feel teeth on your collarbone, nails dragging down your back, sharp, leaving long lines of irritated skin. A pleasurable pain blossoming over your skin.

You begin to unravel as you thrust your hips against him, his movements setting off white-hot sparks of pleasure like incandescent lightning. Moans rush from your lips as his name is repeated in a mantra and you cling to him desperately, your hands clawing at his back and your nails digging into his skin as you spiral ever faster into oblivion.

Miguel is relentless in the way he drives into you. You can feel him swell inside you, every thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He moves his hands to your hips, pushing and grinding against you as every muscle in his body strains.

His breathing is quick and harsh against your ear, his voice a hungry growl, “That’s it, take it. You were waiting for this, weren’t you? Hungry for a cock no matter who it belongs to.”

You can’t answer.

Miguel’s hips thrust harder, faster—his orgasm crashes through him, his hands gripping your hips painfully as he spills his hot seed deep within you. You find yourself trembling as aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you, your body feeling like electricity as you come down from the high. You clench tightly around him, your own overwhelming orgasm ripping through you, overstimulation making you cry out.

He spins you both, bringing you to lay underneath him. Miguel collapses against you, breathing heavy as his grip on you slowly relaxes. He holds you for a moment, your heart thrumming as his forehead briefly rests against yours, breaths mingling. Then, with a satisfied groan, he pulls away. You let out a hiss. It feels achingly empty.

You’re surprised when he starts pushing your legs apart, watching his spend trickling down your folds and making a mess on the sheets. He pushes globs of cum back into you with thick fingers. Your head falls, back arching into his touch. “You made such a mess,” he says, sounding almost transfixed. Cramming fingers inside of you and curling them, your body seizes.

After that, you’re not sure when he leaves. Sleep takes you and when you wake, he’s gone. No note, no message left behind. The only evidence that he was here is the ache between your legs, and the taces of him still lingering on your thighs.

You’re sure you won’t be seeing him again. He got what he came for.

The next night he’s back, climbing through the window for more.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #across the spiderverse fic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you

3K notes · View notes

moondirti · 10 months

Text

DOUBLE RAPTURE

MIGUEL O'HARA x F!READER x ALT! MIGUEL

「 Toasted, every atom in you blistering hot, knocking into each other repeatedly. It’s the buzz at the end of a cigar, embers burning, flickering down to concrete in coughs of ash. You’re both the fire and its aftermath, moaning breathlessly for all that you’re supposed to be in charge.

And tonight – stuck between two men who don’t look, but are, each other – nothing can tamp your flame. 」

summary: after apprehending an anomaly who turns out to be an alternate version of your husband, you indulge in your filthiest fantasy.

explicit (18+) | 6.3k words | part two warnings: pure smut, pwp, THREESOME, cunnilingus, squirting, throat-fucking, blowjobs, unprotected p-in-v, anal, double penetration, tummy/throat bulge, younger miguel is submissive, spitting, cum swallowing, hair pulling, mild degradation, possessiveness, tooth-rotting fluff, every kink under the moon tbh

In truth, it comes naturally.

Your Miguel – older, blunt around once serrated edges, wisps of grey streaking dark tresses – sits to the side. He fosters a tumbler in one grip, half-full with amber liquid. Scotch whiskey, neat; you’d poured the drink to give yourself something to do while waiting. It’ll help, you insisted. An outlet to sip on, or a loud-enough warning when set on the adjacent tea table.

Now, you see that it was more for your sake than his.

He’s entirely collected for someone watching another man’s hands run along his wife’s body. They pushed your shirt off a while ago, hurried to behold your covered form. You’re laying in your bra, breasts heaving while kisses trail down your stomach, nipping the sensitive skin there – and still, all you can focus on is him. Your Miguel, scrutinising the rush the man is in with disapproval glimmering on carmine eyes. If this whole thing hadn’t been his suggestion, you would’ve sworn the look was meant to kill.

Because he likes to take his time with you. It hasn’t always been that way. Ages ago, following your premiere date, you fucked for the first time in a motel he rented, both your apartments’ farther than he would’ve liked to drive. But, again, he’s older now. Seasoned. There’s a heavy ring decorating your finger that winks reassuringly at him, three carats for the three year anniversary he proposed on. It amplifies the truth each hour you wear it – he is yours, you are his, and you’ve all the time in the world to do with each other as you please.

Your third for the night is unfamiliar with the dynamic.

(Though of course, it makes sense for him to be.)

You have to remind yourself of the fluid lines that mark each component of this little fantasy. They waver and wobble, bleeding into one another sometimes like wet ink on parchment. It’s hard to decipher the words they spell out when trapped in thick, indulgent lust – your legs spread to allow the man room as he moves down your body. But it’s even harder to ignore the way your skin burns with the intensity of your husband’s careful contemplation. It singes, redefining those exact perimeters for you:

One, and the most important given your suggestion, is that this will never leave your room. It’s not distrust that keeps it rigid – rather, a shared concern for the integrity of the multiverse. Your Miguel is all too aware of the dire consequences it could face should the rule be broken. You are too. It only narrows down to the partner occupying your bed and his naivete to it all.

Two; to use the safewords established beforehand. You’re infamous for losing yourself to pleasure, the habit bordering on a dangerous degree. It’s why Miguel is watching, to ensure things start correctly. He’s piqued and ready to stop it should the man not understand your limits.

(However unlikely. Currently, you’re the one establishing them.)

The third – the one you have a particularly complicated time grasping – is that ‘the man’ in question is no stranger at all. In fact, it’s instinct to touch him in the same way you’re used to, your mind adequately fooled everytime you look at him. A full head of brown hair – albeit, cropped shorter than your voyeur’s, a fade in at his ears. Young skin, which you strain to notice is devoid of the crows’ feet you adore. Yes, he’s smoother, like time had taken sandpaper to your model and buffed out all his worn edges, but he’s still…

Miguel.

(Though he urged you to call him Mig, entirely oblivious to the subtle cringe that’d crossed your husbands expression. That nickname is one you hardly resort to. He’s revealed a hatred for it.

Another cue, then, that they are not one in the same).

So, it comes naturally because you’ve spent so long in this exact space. Dusk flooding your home in plum hues, the colour of a berry ripe with rot. Overhead lights off, golden lamps projecting sensual shadows on white sheets. Your face warm with alcohol and your panties pushed to the side by a hero named O’Hara, whose palms are large and dry but a burning furnace on gooseflesh.

The younger one, Mig, is not yet a hardened vigilante. He’s new to the game – DNA spliced with spider essence only seven months ago. In that time, he worked out his own method of inter-dimensional travel, tortured genius that he is. Hopped between worlds until, eventually, he blipped on your radar. You’d been sent to process the anomaly whose personhood you were unaware of, only to come face to face with a twenty-something version of your beloved.

There’s no room for bias in the delicate scale of the universe. He’d found himself locked with other transgressors of his pedigree. Miguel – yours – was vehemently opposed to the notion of him joining spider society, uncomfortably affluent in his past recklessness. He knows, better than everyone else; it’s a security risk, letting in a spider-man so inexperienced.

You think that it’s projection. That, and a recognition of the way his mirror couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you.

(A flattering notion for all you refused to believe it. You’re about ten years his senior – surely, he’d have better prospects on his Earth. But you asked, perhaps to hearten any overprotectiveness that could manifest itself as risk.

Something wrong, Mig?

He only looked at you behind the red laser field entrapping him, a small smile on his face. No. Nothing. You’re just different back home.)

That was before. Before he embodied the exact enthusiasm Miguel had been afraid of, spearing your cunt with his tongue, his scalp no doubt aching under your relentless hold. He hums his encouragement despite it, begging you to direct him the way you please. At least he acknowledges his cluelessness – you can almost hear from the other side of the bedroom, acumen pulsing amidst heady air. Most men wouldn’t, their egos great fragile beasts. To have gotten around before might embellish their history with competent, but no one’s ever truly an expert on someone new.

Mig doesn’t pretend otherwise. He’s keen to learn.

That is the difference that encouraged this whole tryst.

“Unfurl your tongue, Mig. You’re focusing too much on– Oh.” Your hips buck, shoving closer to the mouth that does just as you say. He laps your heated core with spittle-drenched dexterity, combing between puffy lips. “That’s it. F-fuck… Just. Just don’t stop.”

The praise does well for him. He looks up at you, reverent – pupils not red, but black with the shadows his long lashes cast. You brush back locks that fall upon his forehead, affording him a better view of the effects he’s wrought. A thin layer of sweat clings to your flesh, gleaming with the fading sun outside. In your peripheral – framed gorgeously by the wall-wide window – it dips below the horizon, nebulous. Blurry on orange clouds.

Pinned under observation and a feverish assault, you feel much the same. Toasted, every atom in you blistering hot, knocking into each other with novel speed. It’s the buzz at the end of a cigar, embers burning, flickering down to concrete in coughs of ash. You’re both the fire and its aftermath, moaning breathlessly for all that you’re supposed to be in charge.

And tonight – bouncing between two men who don’t look like, but are, each other – the feeding of the flame goes untamed.

You find that’s the cause for it. There’s nothing to cling onto for purchase, the one anchor in this equation seated on his leather armchair, ankle on knee, content in watching you soar to uncharted skies on the chin of another. Your head flops uselessly to the side, scanning him once more.

There’s a tricky look to him, suspended on two lines of equal measure. You can tell he wants to join, to take control of the exploit and direct it how he sees fit. Perhaps it’s regret. Yet the pronounced mass in his trousers speaks to the contrary. Miguel palms it, testing his endurance by keeping his touch above cloth, rounding back once his heel presses its end. The sight catalyses your delirium; the knowledge that he, your dedicated husband, is tender with rushed blood and idle about it. Waiting for an opportune moment.

When you reach out an arm in his direction, you hope he takes it as one. Mig sucks your weeping cunt in a symphony of lewd noises, as though he’s trying to push the grace he’s been granting. Slurp. Tracing the perimeter of your slit, revelling in the way it clicks at his ministrations. Squelch. Nose driving into your clit, so hard you suspect he’s trying to bury himself there.

It only calls to your lips, how dry they feel. You’re parched of the one thing he chose to forgo, marking it as off-limits based on some arbitrary ideal. You don’t assume you understand it, instead wiggling your fingers – come here – at your husband. He skips over the grabby hands, devouring your bitten pout and droopy lashes, weighing them in his head.

“Mi vida.” You plea, voice pitched high and winded. The glass’s bottom glints with the last swill of his drink. He knocks it back before rising – sweeping towards you, tantalisingly slow.

Mig shoves your knees higher, practically folding you in half. Your hamstrings stretch with the motions, sending molten spasms to your core – that which he continues to eat out. He’s now doubtlessly coated with your juices, but he doesn’t relent, tracing messy patterns on the sweet spot he managed to pinpoint without your help. You’re reduced to a sore bruise, egged on with every poke and prod. Pleasure swells with blood, clogging burst capillaries. Delicate. Inflamed; deliciously so. You give him a validating pat on the head while a free hand wraps around your Miguel, ironing his waist as he ducks down to your lips.

All three of you are on the bed now. You can’t begin to process the depravity of it all, the way things suddenly become hot and bursting and real. No – you’re much too enthralled by the rough kiss you’re pulled into. It’s dominating and tastes like smoked oak. Honey and faint vanilla where his tongue traces your fauces. The flavours batters you into something vapid, stupid, until the older man has to cup the back of your neck to keep you from sinking.

Intoxicated – you thought you’d be familiar with it by now, how wholly he consumes you, but there’s a power imbued in his approach that has you struggling to keep up. It’s all you can do to keep moving your mouth against his, gathering the material of his shirt to pinion yourself.

He’s got a stubble that colours his jaw in grey, the stalks of it grazing your nose and flaying you raw. It leaves you feeling sunburnt, dazed yet still pushing forward, like the balm for relief can be found at the back of his throat. That’s something else, you note, flicking your observation over to the face between your thighs. Mig keeps himself clean shaven, a youthful shine to his complexion, no peppered hair to obstruct it. Without it, you can clearly see the way his high cheekbones curve inward, hollowing out as they lead down to a pronounced chin. Charming, especially as it shoves between the globes of your ass to make room for his continued efforts.

You’re close, so close. A dam about to burst with centuries worth of water and–

“Need help, corazón?” Miguel whispers, nudging your nose so you can look back at him. Your response comes in the form of a stuffy whimper, nodding minutely. What exactly he means by help, you’re not sure, but his double seems to understand, breaking the smallest bit away to whine a protest.

“That’s offens–”

“Get back to licking her cunt before I change my mind about you being here.” Your husband orders, glowering when the reprimand seems to create the opposite of its intended effect. Mig grins wickedly, a cocky aura about him as he obeys. Just as he’s about to make contact again, his gaze catches yours. The subsequent wink he gives is a warning – loud and bleary and smug – preparing you for when he dives back in with a vengeance, plunging into your hole with that cursed muscle that runs like velvet.

The air pinches from your lungs, squealing on its way out. Your toes curl and your muscles tense and then Miguel directs your face back down with thick fingers, steering you by your cheeks. Your lips pucker, mouth unhinging at the silent command the action echoes. Tongue flattening, you prepare yourself for the little dance you’ve trekked a hundred times before – thankful, in some part, that he’s doing it to ground you.

When he spits – hawking, a dense glob concentrated with scotch – onto an expectant palette, you suppress the devilish narrowing of your eyes. It’s almost habit to reflect his countenance, looking down with fondness and pride at the control you exhibit. Because you don’t swallow, not immediately. You wait for him to kiss you again, to gather the slaver and push it behind your molars with reinforced passion. And he does. Of course he does – that and so much more as he places claim to the hole that is solely his for tonight. You hardly notice when his clutch leaves you, skimming down to unclasp your bra.

Not when your breasts jerk free, nipples pocking at the shift in temperature.

Not as he squeezes each, tugging at their peaks until they’re fully erect.

Or even while he tickles the line of your abdomen, following the same path his counterpart did, smoothing over aggressive bite marks.

It’s only when you break away for great, gluttonous breaths of air – your vision blurring with hypoxia – and Miguel reaches two digits to your fattened clit, do you finally run up to speed. It’s a little too late, though, because he presses down and escalates your delight to unprecedented heights. Enough to see stars – enough to scream the loudest you have in a long while, so that all your appeals are fully unintelligible but available for the world to hear.

“FUCK! Oh my– Fuck, s-shit, shit…” You cry, tears finally breaking the tension at your waterline and running in an unending sequence. “B-both of y-yo– Ah! So good. I’m–”

Mig moans, sending vibrations right to the tightening ball of pressure in your gut. He’s snowballed his efforts, drinking you in with a sincerity. Specifically targeted is the spongy wall of tissue on the upside of your mound, suffering his battery and singing for it. String-plucked and pedal-pressed symphonies, composing a viscosity within you that sloshes behind your orgasm. Yes, he adds to it, but the fingertips rubbing you with bullish ferocity are going to break what’s holding it all back. You feel– know it.

Using your hair to hold your head in place, Miguel utters a string of debauched nothings onto your lower lip, face pressed close to yours. They’re quiet enough that even you have trouble catching them, your ears ringing with rising alarm. But you sense the way his breath blows, what shapes it creates, how it twines – and that fills in every gap for you. The intimacy manages to speak to the truth, despite all the degrading dirty talk.

“You like that, you filthy fucking thing?” Groaning, your husband increases his speed, goading you faster. There are crushing hands on your hips, and another wound into your scalp, pulling it taut. “So insatiable that you need two men to help make you cum, huh? Do you think you can?”

“Yes, yes, yes please. Please,” The very implication that he might stop before you do inspires unruly desperation. Your hips, arms, head – they all thrash in unison. “I wanna– I want to cum, Miguel, for the love of everything! Please!”

He slaps your clit in warning. The blow sends you reeling into a hush, so much so that you stop moving immediately, secretly wishing he’d do it again. To divert your energy, you stare right into his pupils, which shine with burgeoning playfulness. “You will, dirty girl. You’ll wish you didn’t though.”

“W–”

“Oye, wide eyes.” He turns to Mig, who's been curiously watching the display, jaw still moving against you. He unhooks under the attention, blinking rapidly. “Mouth wide open. You’ll want to catch every drop.”

He returns to strokes you in circles – furious, fervent. It’s a screw to the cork, twisting forcefully to combat the tension it’s working to release. You squeal, screech, do just about anything except contract your body like you’re compelled to do. You leave yourself loose, watching as Mig registers what’s about to happen, following orders and transforming into a receptacle for it. His fangs peak from behind swollen lips.

All you’re able to think about, plastered to this pane of double rapture, is how they don’t seem to retract. Permanent, unlike your Miguel – a fixture in his gums.

And then the dam shatters. Implodes, actually – collapsing into itself until it’s a small particle floating out with the deluge. You can hear it, the rush of fluid squirting from you. Consistently, pouring into the puddle the younger man happily gathers. He beams with satisfaction and looks so much like your husband, who does the same, brushing tears off your wrecked face.

With a core still convulsing, caught in the reverberant throes of pleasure, you’re mentally spent. Drained for every dime you’re worth and still wholly aware of the promise he made, flipping it over in your head. Again, and again, until it loses impact and dissolves from the impending future. For all you try, though, he holds power over you – even in memory.

You’ll wish you didn’t.

Mig sits up, crouched on his haunches. Chest bare of everything – including the curls that span your husbands’ – and in just his boxers, you can’t help but focus on either one of two things. His maw, pulled in a downward smile and soaked with clear slick, a concoction of saliva and your fluid dripping from where his canines poke out. But you find that it fills you with unwieldy humiliation to behold, so you fall onto the next.

Which just so happens to be his erection, trapped and throbbing from behind navy cotton confines. The head of it peaks above his waistband, purple and dribbling with pre-spend. It’s created a wet spot that grows larger by the second, and your humility is replaced by guilt for the poor thing.

Miguel, cooing in faux sympathy, swoops to caress the shell of your ear with his sinful proposal.

“What do you say, cariño? Want us to fuck you silly?”

Your hole squeezes around nothing, empty, speaking with a will of its own. He hears it, because of course he does – he’s in tune with everything about you – and manoeuvres you onto your stomach. By mere muscle memory alone, you get on wobbly knees, presenting your rear to the ecstatic man behind you.

And, your husband… Well–

He squeezes between your face and the headboard, tree-trunk thighs stretching out on either side of you. There’s a huge wedge in his pants, not at full size yet but stiff regardless, suffocated by time and space. Your mouth waters, appetite returning far too rapidly for how distant it seemed mere seconds ago.

“Beautiful, hermosa.” Mig groans, spreading your ass to get a proper view of the way your pussy drips for him. A quick glance back provides you with a lovely picture. Him, positively captivated with your holes – both of them, it appears, based on the way his thumb grazes over your tighter clench. “Can’t wait to feel you on me.”

His cock is out, too, briefs shoved under the sack at the end of his length. You take it all in like it’s the first time – despite the many traits he shares with Miguel. Fat, darker than the rest of him that gleams bronze even at night. Though rooted on a crop of tangled hair, whereas his alternate self prefers it trimmed short. When he strokes himself, anticipative, you note the mushroomed head. Circumcised.

An impish idea suddenly crosses your mind. Succumbing to it, you arch your back, knocking your behind on him. The action traps the appendage between you and his pelvis, and to add insult to injury, you wiggle around until it slots between your cheeks. Mig’s face screws up, close-knit, his hands scrambling for purchase on your rolling hips.

Something slaps your cheek. Grinning, you turn back to Miguel, his dick now extricated from its prison. The heft of it sways, tapping your nose and fluttering eyelids, so damn heavy that you cringe when it approaches. Two veins pop up from the smooth skin stretched along him, branching down to his frenulum, the spot you choose to start.

Your tongue runs along it, lathering the plump seams on your journey to the top. His nerve endings are mainly reduced to his head – unlike Mig, who’s still moaning as you grind across his length – so you stay there, particularly concentrated on the edge and the valley it creates. Your temples warm with the gentle cradle of two large hands, piloting you on your trip around his cock.

He smells like home – an ambrosial mix of leather and sweat, the backseat of his car where he fucked you on valentines. It’d been raining, windows made misty by passing fog, city colours painted on the grey wash. You’d teased him all day with a lack of panties and suffered for it, practically choked on pleasure, nothing on but a new pendant necklace.

Right now, you’re stuck in a parallel state. You can’t breath under the leaden attention of both him and his mirror, doing your best to keep sucking and grinding regardless of your dwindling strength. It’s difficult, difficult to divide yourself and satisfy them both, but fuck do you want to. More than anything, you’d kill to see them come undone in your holes – simultaneously, in some unlikely reverie. Pumped full of cum and praise by double the man you love most. Your tummy lurches with nauseous desire, teeth separating as you take Miguel into your mouth.

Peering up at him, if only to experience the way he loses control. But creases fold between his brow, reading your expression just as well. Without rush or need for brawn, he pulls the responsibility from under you, assigning it to himself by propelling into your trap, all in one go. He grates along the texture of your palette, cleaving your tonsils, and finally settling deep in your throat, triggering a series of ugly gags. To quiet down, you grip your thumb in a fist, focusing not on your lack of air but on contracting your throat around his tip.

“Are you going to fuck her or continue to rut like a dog in heat?” Your husband bites at Mig, ever self-critical. The latter man sucks in a challenging huff, patting your waist as he withdraws to centre his cock between your folds. He wags it until it catches on the divet of your cunt, hot and surging with natural slick.

Then, just when you think you can’t bear it any longer, he pushes in.

“Ghmmngf!” You cry, forced forward onto Miguel’s breadth, coughing out the saliva and pre-spend that threaten to smother you. Nose smooshing to his groyne as the other bottoms out, sheathed fully within you. You swear you can feel him in your guts, silently praising whatever taught him how to make most of your narrow space.

Like they’ve practised telepathy their whole life, both men dip to feel themselves through your body. Mig presses a sturdy hand to your stomach, positioned right at your mound where he protrudes outwards, admiring the visible bulge he creates in you. Similarly, his older counterpart cradles your neck, pinching the sides that expand and retract with the pistoning of his hips. He fucks your gullet slow, fast, and back to slow again – amused with the pace he can discern in more ways than one.

If your eyes hadn’t been rolled to the back of your head, you’d be blinded instead by a pool of blissful tears. They bubble up uncontrollably, wetting the cheeks already glazed with almost every other bodily fluid. You’re ravished, cock dumb times two. Your cunt is stretched to its limits, sucking your paramour in with vacuum-like violence, the gravity of it equatable to the sun.

Or, no–

Not the sun.

Something a hundred times larger, nearing the end of its life. With every rock of your body, it runs out of hydrogen, draining the last dregs of fuel before eventually caving in on itself, transforming into an infinitely dense mass. It happens in your core, Mig’s bruising pace only exacerbating the strain, contracting smaller and smaller. Boundlessly so, enough to brush off as you snake a hand down to your clit, tapping the sensitive bud, testing its reactivity.

When you flick it, though, you’re drawn back into the dip of spacetime. It’s inescapable, the one fixed point in all this mess, imminent for all your ragdoll self tries to delay it. The room pounds with sex, the scent of it accompanying every particle, reducing air to balmy filth that acts as a catalyst in your undoing.

Impossible. You know it’s impossible to acquaint yourself with the sensation of being filled on both ends. Despite it, you try. You claw onto what little authority you have, pushing past your clit to graze your nails on a pair of swinging balls. They’re full and drooping, slapping your thighs as their owner humps your cunt.

“Keep doing that. Fuck, fuc– mierda, feels so good. Yersotight. Soft. Soft and… ah, small.” Mig babbles, bowing over your form to kiss the dip between your shoulder blades. Your teeth graze the cock ramming your craw, an unconscious tick that has your husband tugging your hair in admonishment. “Hermosa– s’okay if I? Gonna… gonna cum.”

“Mmnmgh–”

“Not so fast.” Miguel says, tugging you off him at once. It causes the both of you teetering over the edge, to groan, something overtaking all executive functions and compelling you to listen. The lull finds Mig slipping out, unable to hold himself back should he spend another moment filling your pussy.

You’re carried upward, manhandled off elbows and knees, to straddle your husband’s lap, facing a wide chest with pecs as comforting as pillows. When did he take off his shirt? Your vision swims, crossing, oscillating with the unexpected motion – until, well, it doesn’t, stopping as your forehead finds solace on the dip beneath Miguel’s clavicle. It’s a reassuring change, your brain rewiring into safety mode given the fact that, when you cum again – however overstimulating – you’ll be within the arms that have always expertly navigated it before.

And he’s warm, an ever-raging bonfire that licks your breasts and pebbled nipples, heat penetrating your bones to seep into your heart. Your marrow follows soon after, melting into a potion of desire and relief, especially when his far more familiar cock replaces the void left by Mig.

“Wide eyes.” The older one calls.

“Did–” Said man stutters, shuffling closer. “Hope I didn’t hurt you, pretty.”

“Hngh… ‘Course n-not, Miggy. We’ve safeee– words, rmmbr?” You grunt, reaching a hand behind you to hold onto his bigger one, squeezing it for added reassurance. “My ass, tho-eahh. Please.”

“You’re– You’re being for real. Seriously?” He asks, rising hope evident in his tone. “Have you ever done it before?”

“Of course she has.” Miguel interrupts, rolling his hips instead of bouncing your tired body on him. “First drawer on your right.”

You laugh when the mattress wobbles, sheets tangling beneath his hurried scramble. The bottle of lube is almost empty, bought spontaneously during your honeymoon to Cabo. Your then newly-wed wanted to indulge your fantasy of anal on the beach, tucked away on a private cove he’d found just for the occasion. It’s been a vice ever since, just like all things with him. You’re addicted to the man, flat-out, scratching to get your fix whenever possible. However possible.

And, of course – due to a devastating soft spot that makes it hard for him to begrudge you anything – you now have two.

Mig spurts a substantial amount onto his hand, rubbing it on his dick and the ring of muscle it faces. Two digits thrust into you, exploring your elasticity, scissoring to make room for a much larger insertion. The man seated balls deep in your cunt kneads your flesh; obsessed with the chub around your waist, thighs, your cheeks especially, pulling them apart to make this whole ordeal easier.

Not that you necessarily need it, being used to it by now – though you preen under the attentiveness regardless. Your ego is a drowsy cat, tucked under a patch of sunlight, purring as its heavily pet all over. Muscles lax, borderline liquid as you moan with the training your rear clench receives. More lube is added when the previous pour dries up, shoved into the spasming sphincter, accompanying every lewd ministration used to loosen it.

You gasp, loosening and wet. When fingers exchange for a dick that’s packed, solid as steel, Miguel captures you into another teeming kiss. It’s to occupy you through the temporary pain, you know, suckling your tongue into his mouth with a gentleness unbecoming of your current lechery. The pressure soon subsides, ebbing and waning to an easier to manage fullness.

Fuck. You’re plugged on both ends, twin lengths driving into you, stroking each other through the thin wall separating your rectum from your vagina. Initially, they keep the same pace, working in tandem to strike and pull out at similar times – but the task is demanding. It prevents them from fully forfeiting to euphoria. Their nature soon takes over, a novel motley of priorities wrenching you apart.

Miguel goes unrushed, sybaritic, fucking you in waves of doughy passion. He knocks against your g-spot, groaning at the way you flounder. The system unspools a little emotional well, tugging heartstrings until you bite his collar to quell your wails. He’s dedicated, a professional in the trade of you; his cielita – the term of endearment mumbled on your temple, lips pressed there in a perpetual kiss.

And Mig–

Bless him.

He’s unhinged, ravished by the feeling of your gummy walls flexing around him. Consistently refreshing the lube that makes it possible, petrified at the notion that this could perhaps stop, doing all he can to counter it. His method is rough, fast, pelvis smacking your plush behind – of which Miguel has long since let go of. There’s emotion in the way he behaves too; a wild, unspoken, behemoth thing, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this. Not the anal, but you, specifically, panting in his embrace.

(‘You’re just different back home.’)

Your husband might’ve been too quick to judge. If what you suspect is true – which it likely is, an assumption based on an inextricable fondness you’d felt when you first saw the younger man, like you were made to love every version him, in every timeline – then his haste is not innocent clumsiness, but a more dangerous prospect. Desperation. Crestfallen, degenerate desperation. He hadn't the chance to feel any of you before tonight, for one melancholic reason or another.

“M’not… w-won’t last long, beautiful.” He whispers between pecks, peppering them across your nape.

“N-No, me neither.” Whimpering, you twist to scrutinise his tousled appearance. “Want you to cum in me. Fill me so I sp-spend days scooping you out. D-Don’t wanna fo… Need to remember this.”

“Fuck… you can’t talk like that and– and expect me not to embarrass m-myself.”

“Isn’t she something,” Miguel joins, smoothing the stray baby hairs away from your sticky forehead, callused fingers grazing deliciously across sweaty skin. It’s now that you choose to regard their voices, the subtle variations between the two. One deeper than the other – smoked with a prominent accent that jumps at the end of every syllable. “Filthy, dirty little girl. We could stay like this ‘till tomorrow and she’d have no problem. Would bounce on our cocks until she milks us dry.”

“Y’probably need it to keep you in shape– Hmnff!” Is how Mig strangles, cut off as you convulse around his thrusting length. The mass returns, settled in your cunt – a star verging on supernovae level catastrophe, about to implode while they participate in a literal dick measuring contest.

“Watch it, wide eyes.”

“Shuuu… shutup, shtp!” You keen, falling back on the chest of your paramour while Miguel fondles – slaps – your tits, mesmerised by the way they jiggle, your entire body jostled as their fat cocks jam you full.

“Is my girl going to cum?” One says. You can’t tell which, eyes squeezed shut, though you don’t think Mig would dare use that pronoun. My. Not in good conscience, not when he didn’t kiss you for fear that it’d be crossing a boundary.

“I swear I’ll burst if you squirt again.”

“Don’t expect too much from her in this state.” The trigger to it all, that aching bundle of nerves mashed against your husband’s pubes, starts buzzing with electric urgency. You brace yourself for the lightning, the shock. “Silly thing, can’t begin to form words let alone ideas. Look at me, corazón. What do we say?”

You don’t know. You can’t care. No flying fucks exist outside the devastating wreck that’s about to transform you, squalling loud and shrill from every organ that still retains its function. Heart fluttering like a baby bird’s wings. Lungs depressing into shrivelled cavities. Soreness gnaws on your cervix, abused by successive thrusts. Your bones feel like mush, macerated under mortar and pestle and dissolved in blood.

It’s coming, that celestial calamity.

Mig agrees, gasping. “I’m gonna–”

“Oye. What do we say?” Miguel exhorts, catching your glassy-eyed stare with his.

The former man barks your name, completely winded. Your asshole jerks on his cock, which twitches inside of you, ready to blow. Sopping with lube and pre-spend, spit and your own slick, you can’t control the syphoning noises your holes make, blubbering on the cocks that split you apart.

It’s then the words finally find you – manners that your husband insists on.

“Pleeaase.” You cry.

“Fuck!”

Thick spurts of fluid coat your insides, wrung from the man behind you. His cum is blistering, burning the thin layer between him and Miguel – who surprisingly, given the control he’s exhibited thus far, follows suit, pumping you full of his seed. Your womb and rectum, the puffy folds and rim that try to keep it all in – are all frosted with pearlescent spend. Heady and dripping, staining a depraved mess on every crevice between your legs. Gross globs of it caking you, your skin barely visible anymore.

The thought alone – of two men’s essence, beckoned and bled out by you, mixing something disgusting on your most intimate parts – is enough to kick you off the edge. Flailing off that cliff, plummeting into an outburst that lets nothing escape. Not smell, or taste, or light – spinning a black hole of groundbreaking proportions.

You orgasm, again and again – or maybe the whole thing is all just one prolonged, feral, exhausting endeavour. Cumming until your muscles physically give out, going paraplegic with the strain of constant contractions. You crumple, sandwiched between two sturdy chests, stuffed with cotton and sex and pure endorphins, flying with no sign of ever coming down.

A siren's song – sleep, calling to you from the depths of consciousness – almost pulls you under. That is, until your husband manoeuvres you onto your back again, spreading your legs in a near split to expose your sloppy holes to your paramour. His expression is doused with reverence. Supple, soft, the tiniest bit guilty at the sight of you, desecrated by their combined efforts.

“Well?” Miguel prods, fanning your leaking cunt and asshole out wider. “Are you waiting for her to absorb it all? Clean it up.”

And – for the last time that night – Mig does as he’s told, ducking to gather every last bit of proof with his tongue.

Much later, you watch him pull his shirt over his head, snuggled close to your husband. The sky has deepened to its darkest form – midnight, a gibbous moon cushioned amidst glimmering stars.

“Well, it’s been fun.” The man sighs, brushing imaginary lint off his abdomen. He winks at you before turning to leave, testing his luck now that it can’t backfire on him. “If you ever want to trade him in for a newer model, you know where to find me.”

Miguel just grumbles beneath you, displeasure rumbling the hollows of his hairy sternum. You, on the other hand, smile gently, giving the parting gift of your humour.

Only for something better to occur to you. When his grasp closes around your bedroom door knob, you call out – voice a faint, hoarse thing.

“Mig.” You say.

“Yeah?” He replies, blinking back at you.

“I think you should go for it.”

And all your mild musings are confirmed when he nods, sheepish, like a child caught with a fist in the cookie jar. It’s okay – you mouth, because you know. Whoever you are on his Earth, with whatever cosmic odds stacked against you, you’ll fall. If only because it’s Miguel. Mig. Your O’Hara – such truth woven into the fabric of every conceivable reality.

Your husband catches on quickly, patting your sleepy head. It’s the first time he talks to himself with a tone that isn’t condescending, laying a sentiment you recognise as meaning more to his younger counterpart than anything you could say. Perhaps because it’s kind, a bit of proper advice made mushy by an echoed devotion to you. Or, perhaps because he’s witnessed the evidence to it consistently, all night long. Wide eyes.

“It’ll be the best thing you’ll ever do for yourself.”

part two

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be alerted of future works!

2K notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

Text

Taking what’s not yours (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader (slight Harry Osborn x reader) ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) part 2

Hiiiiiii, this took longer then it should and it was gonna be waaay longer but I’ve decided to just make it 3 parts cuz I’m waaaaaay too impatient Lmaoo. Thank you once again to @chickenshit03 for helping me look over this 🫶🏼. Technically it is a miguel x reader, Harry x reader but, shhh it’s okay lol. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, hurt/comfort/hurt (???), underage usage of weed (I DO NOT CONDONE THIS!!!), usage of alcohol, no smut but nsfw stuff is implied, Miguel going thru it lol

Word count: 3.1k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

“Have you congratulated her yet?”

Gabriel’s voice pulled his older brother’s attention away from the soccer game that was happening on his tv, looking over to find his brother engrossed in his phone rather than the game. He raised a brow up, waiting for him to continue, letting out an exasperated sigh when he didn’t.

“Who?” Miguel asked, bringing his beer bottle up to take a swig, turning back towards the tv so he didn’t get to catch his younger brother’s almost confused reaction.

“What do you mean who? (Y/N), Cabrón.” Gabriel’s tone was one of almost scolding, as if he was talking about someone who was family. As far as he was concerned, you were still considered as such. But when Miguel quirked up a confused brow it was becoming a bit clearer that you and his older brother weren’t as close as you once were. (Dumbass)

“(Y/N)? I don’t talk to her anymore, why would I congratulate her?” He sounded uninterested, bothered even, as if bringing you up was an inconvenience to himself. Still Gabriel pressed on.

“You really don’t know?”

“Does it look like I know?” Miguel shot back sarcastically, bringing his bottle back up to take another swig.

“She’s getting married.”

Miguel’s fist flew to his chest, hitting at it frantically as he brought down his half empty bottle as he attempted to clear his windpipe, eyes widen in shock, both from the news and the sudden feeling of the liquid going down the wrong pipe.

“She’s-shes what?” He was finally about to choke out between fading coughs, his eyes watering slightly as he recovers from the fit. Now it was his younger brother who raised a confused brow before it came back down and his face scrunched together in realization.

“No manches güey… You really didn’t know? I thought you two were best friends.” (Slang that basically means “You’re fucking with me dude.”)

“Key word: were.” Miguel grumbled through

grinding teeth, his tensing shoulders and blunt tone was enough of an indicator for Gabriel to drop the subject. Using the now empty bottle in Miguel’s hand as an excuse to step out of the room to grab another one from his kitchen.

Only when Miguel was alone, he sighs and takes his phone out from his jeans pocket and opens instagram, waiting impatiently as the app loads.

—

“I don’t know, I think I liked the other venue better. What do you think honey?”

Despite your feet standing in the second venue of the day, you couldn’t seem to get yourself to focus on the space in front of you. Fingers idly fidget with Harry’s from their place intertwined with his.

How were you going to tell this to Harry? Why did after so long, Miguel had the nerve to try weasel his way back into your life?

No matter how hard you try to blink the words away, it felt like they were burned into your eyelids. Like you had never left the fitting room of the dress store.

Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.

Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.

1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99

1 message request from-

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” Harry’s voice pulled you back out from your own thoughts. Suddenly becoming too aware of your own anxious state, as he gave your hand a quick reassuring squeeze. Turning to the venue owner as he asked for a minute alone with his fiancé.

“What’s wrong babe.” He asked as soon as you were both alone, his hand traveling upwards to rest on your forearm, tilting his head slightly as he cooed at you. He always knew how to read you so well. Despite the question coming out more as a statement, it held no malice behind it. You let out a sigh.

“I… I’m not sure how to explain it.” You replied honestly, it’s not like you did anything wrong. You simply received a message from an estranged friend/fling, you haven’t even read the message yet. Still the thought of spilling out the words ‘You remember how I had told you I had a thing with an old childhood before we met? He saw that I’m engaged and now he’s trying to message me.’ didn’t seem to settle in your stomach quite right.

“You know you can tell me anything baby. Is it the wedding? I know the whole thing is stressful, maybe I shouldn’t have booked this tour right after your dress appointment-“ Oh Harry, your sweet sweet Harry. You quickly shook your head, your hand going up to rest on his chest to stop his rambling. He always did it when he was starting worrying about you, you couldn’t help but smile at his habit. You found it endearing.

“No, Harry. It’s not anything wedding related, not exactly-erm, nevermind, don’t worry about it right now.” You reassured him, his rambling dead down in his throat, replaced with the low vibration of a hum, as he brought your hand up to his cheek and pressed a light kiss against your palm. Your lips pulled upwards just a tad bit more at the gesture. “ I’ll tell you when we get back home.”

“Hmm, Promise?” He muttered against your palm, before placing another peck against it.

“I promise.” Your thumb stroked his cheek lightly.

“Good.” He sighed, dropping your hand back down from his face, but not letting go of it just yet. “Now, about the venue.” He changed subjects, raising a brow as he silently asked for your opinion. To which you scrunch your nose before replying.

“Oh I liked the last one way better.”

“Good, I did too.”

—

The alcohol still had a hold on Miguel as he continued through the rest of his nightly routine, trying not to trip over his own feet as he was trying to grab a shirt to sleep in. Only to trip over something else in the corner of his closet.

Cursing loudly as he caught his weight before he could fall face first into the closet wall. His search for a shirt was quickly forgotten as he stumbled back a bit to catch his barings. Anger flaring through his veins as he went to go pick up the box he tripped on, and toss across the room in a fleeting moment of letting his frustrations get the better of him. When he realized he was only making a bigger mess for hungover him to clean up, he groaned and rubbed his hands through his hair.

He was going to just leave it for the morning, let it be a tomorrow problem as he doom scrolled through old photos that should have been long deleted from his phone when he dropped you for Dana. A choice that was proven to be a mistake at the end of the day when she dumped him a few months later. But when he went to step over the mess to lay on his bed, when something caught itself in his peripheral vision. A black lighter, one that was bedazzled with a little star.

That’s weird, I don’t use lighters for anything. Miguel thought as he bent down to his knees to pick it up and examine it, it wasn’t until he turned it upside down to see a certain pair of initials carved into the bottom of it when it hit him.

—

“Hey Mig, guess what I bought off one of my friends from my chem class.” You grinned, pulling him into your room. You were both alone, since your mom was gone for a business trip for the weekend.

Miguel raised a brow looking around your room for anything out of the ordinary, finally shrugging when he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. That’s when your smile widened, letting out a small squeal before pulling three things from your pocket.

Two joints and a black lighter.

“We did say if we tried it, it’d be together.” Your voice came out in a sing-songy tone, your silent way of asking him if he wanted to partake in the forbidden activity. He wasn’t big on the idea of smoking weed, but he did say if you ever wanted to try, he’d be there in case you freaked out.

Fuck it, your only a rebellious teenager once right?

You let another squeal when he grabbed one of the joints, before grabbing the lighter.

—

“I didn’t know I had this…” He muttered, words still slurring slightly as he closed his hand with the lighter still in it. As far as he was concerned, he had given it back before you two had left for college eleven years ago. The-as you liked to call it-“star girl” phase you had during junior year had made it so you put stars on whatever you could, including your lighter. It was your favorite shape at the time, he wonders if it still is.

He can’t remember at the time, because the hazy cloud that covers his brain and the way eleven years came make you forget small things but he had never given the shoebox to you before you had left, like he had meant to. So when he went to turn the box over and more papers and knickknacks fell out, he forgets all about going to bed.

Some of it was a bit more basic than others, a postcard and a small trinket from a vacation you had gone on, a silver spider necklace you had gifted him, some random book you had raved over and let him borrow to read, but he never finished it, movie theater tickets.

Then there were some that were a bit… harder to look at, stuff that he had suppressed deep into his memories.

Handwritten notes you had sent him when you went to summer camp every summer. One for every week for a month, from fourth grade till sophomore year. Rambling about how a guy wouldn’t stop bothering you and how you wish he was there to scare the guy off. Or the time you were doing archery during one afternoon during outside activities and had shot an apple to a tree from midair. Had even dedicated a whole two paragraphs to it.

Photo Booth pics of you both at the county fair, making silly faces at the camera with him arm over your shoulders. He had always hated taking pictures taken of himself, not because he didn’t like the way he looked, just because he didn’t think he needed to. He wasn’t one to look back and reminisce, he’d rather look forward and focus on his future. But you were a sucker for sentimental things, so he did it for you.

A bit ironic now, that the roles were reversed at the moment.

—

“Please Miguel, it takes like two seconds.” You begged, desperately trying to pull the larger teen towards the unoccupied Photo Booth, faint sounds of teens screaming on rides and music playing from the food stands in the background.

Miguel let his head roll back as he left out a grown, letting you pull him despite him easily being able to walk away.

“You have a million photos of us.”

“You’re so negative all the time. One day you're gonna look back and be thankful I forced you to take all these pictures.” You pouted as you pushed him into the booth, sitting down next to him as you put in a dollar in the machine. “I’ll buy you a funnel cake if you don’t look like you’re being held hostage.” You joked.

“Fine.”

—

A wristband to some random music festival you had convinced him to go with you to, not wanting to go alone. He at the time wouldn’t have admitted it, but he had a lot more fun than he led on. He never understood how you could deal with his pessimism all the time, waving it off as if it was nothing, you could see threw it he guessed.

—

“That was…incredible.” You sighed, plopping yourself down on your hotel bed on your side of the room once you two had arrived in the room, not even changing out of your festival outfit yet. Miguel followed you close behind, closing and locking the hotel room door as he shrugged.

“I guess it wasn’t horrible.” He muttered, taking off his dusty shoes. Not missing the way your lips tugged up in a tired smile.

“You had fun.” You stated, already knowing he would deny it. He scoffed.

“Well, I’m not sure about that.” There it was. You let out a small laugh as you sat up on the bed finally.

“Knew it.” You beamed.

—

Miguel felt pathetic at this point. Never had he been one to reminisce, never had he been one to show emotions. Now here he was, clinging to the last bits of you he still had.

The last thing he found was the last thing he could bare himself to look at, the memories that came with the item came flooding in just like the tears that he had suppressed for so long. Well, as long as it was from when his brother dropped the bomb on him.

A red rose boutonnière.

—

Senior prom, it was just around the corner. The dress shopping, riding a limo rental with a group of friends, slow dancing with a guy. You had been dreaming about it since you were a kid and saw it over and over again in movies and shows. You should have been excited about it, but you weren’t, in fact you were dreading it. Why? Because no one had asked you to be their date.

It was a bit of a ridiculous thing to be upset about, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. Not when all of your other female friends got promposalled from their boyfriends or their crushes, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter about it.

The fact that you were there to witness Mj’s (your friend from English) get promposalled by her boyfriend Peter with a big teddy bear during lunchtime only rubbed salt in the wound. You were just glad that the school day was over now so you could go home and take a nap.

You did what you usually did after the last bell, walk to Miguel’s car. You could usually carpool since you lived next door to each other. Expecting him to already be waiting for you, what you didn’t expect though, was to be met with him holding a poster up. The words “be my date to prom?” written on it, with the letters of prom made up from elements. It looked simple, last minute, like he had drawn it during the last ten minutes of his final class. But it had brought you to tears no less.

“You didn’t have to.” The words came out in a mix between a sob and a laugh.

“I know, I wanted to. I couldn’t stand you being upset, I know how much this whole prom thing means to you.” His reply only made you let out another sob, quickly closing the gap between you both as you pulled him into a tight hug.

The time between then and prom was short-lived, almost like a blur as you both arrived at the school’s gymnasium. The rest of your friends had actual dates, so you weren’t surprised when they separated in their respective duos. You and Miguel mostly just messed around, the majority of the night. So when he pulled you towards the dance floor once the slow songs started to play, you couldn’t help but raise a brow.

“You hate dancing.” You stated, heels clicking coming to a stop once you both were in an empty spot. His hands sliding on to your waist as he took a step closer towards you. He let out an exhale through his nose as he smirked.

“I do.” He agrees, his hands sliding to your hands, and placing them on his shoulders before he placed his back in their original spot. “But, slow dancing is a part of the ‘prom experience’ or whatever, so I’ll suck it up for a few songs.”

You guess he had a point, so you just went with it. Staying quiet as you both swayed to the music, you haven’t even noticed that your head was resting on his shoulder until he spoke up again.

“So… everything like how you expect it to be?” He whispered jokingly, glancing down to meet your eyes, somehow despite the dim lighting, they still found a way to glimmer.

“It is.” You hummed with a soft smile,

“Good.”

—

“Harry, baby c’mon stop… Harry!”

“I’m sorry (Y/N), you know I can’t help it… something about wedding planning just does something to me-“

His words were interrupted with another spurt of giggles falling from your lips as you tried to pull away from the playful kisses trailing down your stomach. His hands keeping you in place by your hips. He knew you were ticklish, yet he continued to graze his fingernails down your sides just to watch your reaction.

“I’m so lucky, in a few months I’m going to get to call you my wife. My beautiful lovely wife.” He muttered against your skin. His words made your cheeks flush and your stomach flip, you don’t know another man who could make you feel the way he does.

His lips finally stop as the beginning of your sleeping shorts, his thumbs dipping into them, the fabric scrunching down when he goes to play with the straps of your panties. Half-lidded eyes go to meet yours, silently asking for permission.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to wait until the honeymoon?” You teased as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Trying to sit up on your shared bed as best as you could, but you weren’t able to before Harry went to crawl on top of you. Capturing your lips quickly before dipping his head to nibble at the crook of your neck.

“That’s coming from the girl who couldn’t stop grabbing at me during dinner.” He muttered back, leaving goosebumps to erupt on your skin when you felt him smirk against you, then going to nibble your sensitive spot. Making you let out a whimper before you could stop yourself.

“Because that waitress was trying to flirt with you!” You whined, hands traveling up to hold on to his shoulders as he kitten licked the bites he left behind.

“You act like I didn’t just say that because my father was there. He doesn’t need to know how often I make you scream my name-“

“Oh my gosh Harry, please don’t bring up Norman while we’re about to start fucking.” You laugh as you push him off of you gently, not being able to take the moment seriously anymore. In response he only raised a brow as he smirked again.

“So we were gonna fuck?”

“Jesus.” You laugh again, as you pushed him against the bed, lips crashing against one another as you straddle him.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st

@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry

@haveclayeveryday

#Spotify #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #harry osborn x reader

451 notes · View notes

otakubimbo · 3 months

Text

Don't Lose Control

Miguel x F!Reader

Plot w/ porn.

My legally required sex pollen fic as a fanfic writer. @safixiovi requested Miguel so here we are.

You and Miguel are on a mission together and nothing is going right. Your tech is all messed up and now it seems Miguel has gotten sick from something. He felt as if he was losing control of himself.

OB Sticky: I wrote this with one hand in my pants so excuse any grammatical errors and definitely not proofread. Also writing smut make me so embarrassed so if you hate it, don't. <3 Reblogs and Likes welcome, requests are still open.

masterlist

Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at the data on your computer in the universe you and Miguel were in currently. You had been working on tech to detect fluctuations in the multi-verse that could detect where anomalies would appear before they did. It had been doing well for the last few weeks, you were able to detect the appearance of an anomaly in three separate universes. So, the confusion now came with the fact that the monitor was detecting two fluctuations in the universe you were currently in, but nothing was showing up. The two of y’all had separated, you went to check out one of the fluctuations and he went to the other. But nothing, nothing was there in the area that read the fluctuations.

You groan out in the abandoned building that you were in, frustrated at the lack of any appearances.

“It was working so well, what the hell?” You grumble to yourself, typing in code strings into your computer trying to see if you can recalibrate the device that it was connected to get a more accurate reading. As your frustrations grew, your watch started going off for an incoming call. You answer it in hopes that at least on his end there was at least a sighting on his end.

“I’m in a damn field and not a single sight of anything but clouds of pollen.” Miguel’s digital image huffs at you. You groan, rubbing your face in irritation.

“Let’s fucking call it then and find somewhere to stay tonight or whatever.” You say abruptly hanging up on him. He would be able to find you, you knew that, and you didn’t really have the energy to hear his complaints about your tech or whatever he had to say.

Meanwhile, with Miguel.

You really hung up on him, in his face when it was your idea to have the both of you out here testing out your tech. Jess was left in charge while the two of you were gone but still, you had insisted and yet there was nothing here and the two of y’all had been at this investigation all day. He cursed in Spanish as he coughed from all the pollen he was inhaling. It was everywhere, irritating his throat, eyes, and skin. It wasn’t even that he was frustrated your tech was having what seemed to be issues, it was that you insisted on checking things out separately when he figured the whole reason you wanted him here was to do this mission together, with each other. He had grown accustomed to your presence, to your voice, to your smile. It was all while you were figuring out the mechanics of this new tech of yours. To a certain extent, he was always fond of you, he had found you brilliant, driven, and innovative, one of the few spiders he could tolerate. But things started to change when you came up with the idea for this tech, the glittering in your eyes as you made strides on it. Every new aspect you brought to him, you picked his brain late into the night. The time the two of you spent together increased over the months and he realized that he really enjoyed your company. You brought a certain type of peace to him that he never thought he would get before, he actually started going to sleep more at night because he would make you go to bed which you wouldn’t unless he agreed to also. The two of you had got as close as someone could to Miguel.

Miguel cursed again as he felt his body heating up as he went to the directions you sent him for where the two of you would be spending the night he figured. He assumed he just needed to get whatever was in that field off of him and he would be fine after that. When he found you in the crowded lobby of the hotel, you looked irritated but so damn sexy.

Wait.

Where was his mind going right then? He would have to be blind not to realize that you were attractive. Of course, he acknowledged that about you, almost every spider has mentioned it since the day you joined. But the way you looked right now, drive a man to sin. Your curls were down for once, edges slightly sweated out, your skin held a red tone which made your brown skin glow slightly. It was obvious that you were frustrated with the way your nose crinkled making your nose hoop push up slightly on your face. The way your arms were crossed against your chest pushed your breasts up in a way that had them almost spilling out the top of your tank top, the sight going straight to his dick. His breathing started getting heavy as he gazed at you and then finally caught your eye, having you quickly walk towards him realizing how much of a sway to your hips there is when you walk had him feeling parched.

“O’Hara, we have a problem” You start as you let out an exasperated breath looking up at him. This is when you notice his appearance, he is red, EXTREMELY RED, looking as if he just took on several baddies right before getting there.

“Is everything okay?” concern is written all over your face as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted and all Miguel could think about is what they would look like wrapped around his-----. His thoughts were cut off by you calling his name.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that stupid pollen is just all over me. Irritating” He brushes your concerns off saying a few curses in Spanish.

“Okay, well, they only had one room available because apparently there’s some sort of festival going on and I got the last room that was available at like any hotel.” You say as you shift your bag on your shoulder, which takes Miguel's focus back to your chest. The silver chain around your neck sits right above your cleavage. All he could think about was how high would it bounce if you were to ride his---

Again his thoughts were cut off by your voice.

“Alright, let's just get you to the room so you can get whatever is on you off and I can do some work.” You say as you grab his arm, dragging him to the elevators so you can get to your shared room. You didn’t have any clue what was wrong with Miguel, he never usually seemed so zoned out but you assumed whatever the field he was in was affecting him and his focus. His powers were different than other spiders, so you could figure that it was probably a chemical from their plants that was messing with him. You would have to send it off for some tests to see what it could be.

Once in the room, you tell Miguel to go ahead and use the shower to get himself together after you grab a sample of what was on him to send to Lyla.

“Hey Ly, can you analyze this? It got on Mig and he’s been dazed and out of it ever since we got to the hotel.” You say as you speak to the AI. She gives you a knowing look when you mention a hotel and she hears the sound of a shower in the background. “Don’t start, there’s literally no other rooms anywhere and I don’t want to leave tonight just in case the readings were actually accurate, and two anomalies show up. It wouldn’t be logical to leave just set.”

Lyla knew the way you felt for Miguel, she was there while yall were spending all of that time together. The looks that you took at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the way you would sigh contently while working in the lab with him, and the way you spoke to him when it was just the two of you. Anyone with eyes could see how attractive that man was but it wasn’t just that which is what made you fall for him. Regardless of the way he could come off, he was kind and caring. He may not show it in the ways that other people did but he had such a big heart and was truly thoughtful of other people. The man would take everything on his shoulders just to make things easier for everyone. You admired him, you adored him, and he made you feel safe and understood and cared for. You really liked him, it didn’t help that he was a walking Adonis. His looks were just the cherry on top for you. Everyone seemed to know your affinity for him, except him. It didn’t help that you were always making excuses for his behavior, Jess would make jokes at your expense all the time about it.

“But the two of you sharing a room it seems?” Lyla giggles coming to sit on your shoulder.

“Cause there wasn’t anything else available” You whisper hiss at her, and she just giggles again “Please just analyze the sample I sent”

“Anything for Miguels other half.” She jokes as she fades away, and you just groan trying to focus back on your readings and tech.

Miguel did not want you that way. You knew that, he would never want you that way. He was a serious man with a hard past that never allowed for the option of romance. The multiverse and stopping anomalies were more than enough to occupy Miguel's mind and heart. You sigh, knowing that your affection will never be returned by him busying yourself with your work while he finishes his shower.

While in the shower, Miguel had already cum two times, and nothing was helping. His mind only filled with you and how you would feel under him, on top of him, how your lips would feel, the noises you would possibly make. It didn’t help that he knew you were just in the next room, he could almost feel you. He needed you badly and he didn’t know why it was so badly. For once, it was as if he lost control of himself. The way he needed to feel you, to hear you, to taste you, to be inside you. Mierda. He came again with just the thought of you in the other room, just the thought of you. It wasn’t enough but it would have to be, he knew you would worry if he took too long in there.

As he exits the bathroom, you notice you hunched over your laptop on the bed, fidgeting with your tech with such a concentration on what you were doing. The image made his dick throb. Fuck. His stuttering as he entered the room, caught your attention from your work. You only glance at him as you continue tinkering.

“Are you feeling any better?” You ask, still typing away.

“Yeah” He lies as he attempts to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Good. I still sent some samples to Lyla to analyze.” You start before pausing for a second, “Since we don’t know what’s going on I think we should try to both sleep with some comfort tonight just in case we get an alert or something. We have been at this all day, so we need some rest.”

It took Miguel a second for him to realize what you meant by what you said. You meant that the two of you would have to share the bed. Together. Sleep next to each other. Together. Together, in the same bed. Together. He could barely contain himself in the shower, how in the hell was he supposed to contain himself sleeping next to you?

“Can you take a look at this while I take a shower? I can’t find anything that is wrong but I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say only slightly looking up at him and then back down as you finish typing what you were working on shifting to get up while still trying to work.

“Yeah sure” He attempts not to look at you as you put your stuff down, trying to finish your coding, distracting yourself from your previous statements, attempting not to think about you and Miguel sharing a bed. You don’t even look at him as you make your way into the bathroom.

The only thing Miguel could think about was you undressing in the bathroom, what you would look like as you caressed your body with a soapy washcloth. Mierda. How was he supposed to sleep next to you tonight?? He felt like he was losing control. You seemed to not be affected by the thought of sharing a bed with him, something about that was making him feel more feral. The image of you sleeping peacefully as he looms over you, starting with pressing his lips to your unexpected jawline, making his way down your body with his mouth. He could imagine your breath hitching as you started to wake up at his actions. Would you whimper as he made his way to your clothed cunt? Would you grip his hair as he teases you by licking you through your panties? Would you beg for him?

Mierda.

He was painfully hard again. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck was going on? He needed to calm himself down, he had no clue why he was acting like this. He was mumbling curses in Spanish, not even realizing that you had gotten out of the shower.

“Mig” You call out to him softly; he looks like he is in distress. His head snapped to your voice. Mierda, that damn nickname wasn’t helping him in this situation and neither did the way you looked. It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special or particularly sexy, it was a plain oversized shirt and he could see the peak of shorts underneath. That cute expression of concern that you wore, your gaze gentle on him. You called his name again.

“Are you okay Miguel? Do you think we should go back to headquarters? We can always just send some other spiders out to keep on alert.” You suggest moving towards him. At your movements, it was as if he snapped out of whatever spell was on him.

“No, no it’s fine.” He rebuttals, “The tech is too new to trust with anyone else. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You nod at him, still worried about him but going to bed was probably the best option for him right now. The two of you get into bed, laying down on opposite sides, and backs towards each other.

Miquel can’t sleep. Every other minute, he's trying to gently ( as gentle as someone his size can be) toss and turn in his discomfort. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, especially with the way he could feel your warmth even from the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, his excessive tossing didn’t allow you to sleep either. You were worried about him but you know his stubbornness wouldn’t free him enough to tell you the issue. But at this rate, neither one of you would be able to sleep tonight at this so you conceited and turned over with a sigh to face him. He was lying on his back not realizing that you had woken up, it looked as if he was sweating. Did he have a fever? Was he really sick? You lean up on your elbow, extending your hand out to touch his forehead.

“Miguel you don’t look well.” You speak as your hand reaches out towards him, right before your hand lands he grabs your wrist and looks at you with wild eyes.

“Don’t” He says through gritted teeth.

“Mig, please, what is wrong?” You ask so innocently, while all his thoughts about you aren’t even close to innocent. With you so close now, with that look in your eye, Miguel was losing all of his sanity. Fuck it. Swiftly, with your wrist still in his hand he straddles himself on top of you. Your eyes immediately go wide as you feel your body move, looking up at him, you don’t fight him though.

“I----” He starts, panting above you.

“What Miguel?” You asked breathily, fuck you looked so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes find him and they're red. He looks almost feral.

“ I don’t know how much longer I can control myself” His voice is strained as his grip on your wrist gets a little harder. The way he was looking at you, wasn’t something you expected. The look of unbridled lust in his eyes, you could feel it coming off his body.

Your voice barely above a whisper calls out his name.

“Stop, please. You don’t understand how badly I need to ruin you.” He groans as his head falls to the side of your head, his face burying into your neck breathing in deeply with a growl. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to think clearly of what is going on in this moment. The stoic and controlled man that you had grown to know just told you he wanted to ruin you and the biggest problem was that you were okay with it. There was a newfound ache between your legs while he was speaking to you and now the ache was growing with the way he was breathing into your neck. Fuck it. You roll your hips into his, feeling his restrained bulge twitch with the impact.

“Then ruin me, Miguel.”

His head shoots up at your words, it was taking all of his self-control at that moment to not rip the clothes you were wearing off. He had to be sure he understood you correctly, he had to be sure you knew how serious he was about ruining you, destroying you, making you his own.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, hermosa.” He strains out, unconsciously pushing his hips into you, you let out a small moan at the sensation and Miguel thought he almost came just from that sound alone.

“I do, I want you. I want you to ruin me, Miguel.” You say, a lustful look in your eyes as he’s still panting above you. He was trying to hold on to his last ounce of self-restraint until you said one word. “Please”

That was all it took before he sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped at the sudden pain until you felt him licking the wound he just created making you moan his name at the sensation. His hands are all over your body as he is kissing and sucking on your neck, moving your legs so that he is in between them to grind himself into you.

“Fuck Miguel” You moan as your hips meet with his, “Kiss me”

He immediately abides by your request, mouth meeting yours in an aggressive lustful kiss. Miguel forces his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. His claws digging into your plush thighs which had you moaning into his mouth as he explored yours. The both of you breathing heavily as he moves again from your mouth to your jaw to the other side of your neck marking you the same as he did on the other side. After he is pleased with his marks he leans up, gazing down at your chest heaving, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. Fuck, he doesn’t even bother lifting your shirt off you as he rips it in the front to expose you to him. The view was better than he imagined, of course, he had seen you in your spidey suit which didn’t leave much to the imagination but this view, actually seeing you bare under him was just too much. He came then and there, not even caring because the next time he came he hoped it would be inside of you, your eyes widened at the guttural moans he made as he came. Without even a moment of shame or embarrassment, his mouth latches onto one of your breaths as he palms the other.

“Wait wait, Miguel did you come?” You attempt to get out during his onslaught on your tits.

“Yes, and I’m going to come again, inside you.” He says as he makes his way down your body to your clothed cunt. He had no shame in his words, as he quickly made shreds of your shorts and underwear, he could live out his fantasies of teasing you at another time. He needed to taste you right now. Before you could even respond to his words, or to the fact that he has ripped all your clothes off Miguel's tongue is lapping at your folds. You can’t help but squirm underneath him, as he’s eating you like a man starved. Fuck was he obsessed with the way you tasted; he knew he was going to have to have this all the time now. He made out with your clit as your hands dug into his scalp gripping his hair. It was all so overwhelming; you couldn’t even grind yourself against his face as his strong hands held your hips down. You were reaching your peak faster than ever before, you were moaning his name like a chant as you got closer and closer to getting over the edge.

The sound of his name being moaned off your lips was driving him even crazier, his hips pushing into the bed as he starts sucking directly on your clit. He moves one of the hands that was holding your hips down to shove two of his thick long fingers into your clenching waiting hole. It was as if he already knew your body because his fingers automatically found the spot that made your vision blurred. Your body responded on its own as you came, and came hard, squirting all over his face. The squirting caught him off guard, as he pulled his face out of your cunt with a surprised expression. Oh fuck, he needed to see you do that again, and by the way your walls squeezed his fingers as you did, he knew he needed to see you do it again but on his dick. He freezes himself from the restraint of his own clothing as he comes back to hover over you. You looked so damn beautiful, your lips were puffy from his kiss and he could see the bite marks that he left on you, pupils blown and breath coming back down from your orgasm. He didn’t give you much time to recover as he grabbed your legs throwing them over his shoulder and pounding into you.

You scream his name as he furiously slams his hips into yours. His hands are under your ass, grip tight as he lifts you slightly to go deeper into you, too deep. The tip of his dick ramming into your cervix with every thrust. You had never been one that could just come from penetration, but the way Miguel was pounding into right now seemed was going to change that. He can feel the way your clamp down on his as the tightness returns back to your stomach. Fuck you were going to come again, you were so sensitive, so sensitive for him. Your nails digging cresent shaped marks into his arms as you come again this time on his dick.

“I’m going to come inside you” He tells you through his thrusts and the aggressive manner in which he said it made you clamp down on him even harder. He spills into you, so much that it starts leaking out as he continues to pound into you. You had assumed once he came again he would stop but he doesn’t, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you as he pumps his cum deeper into you. As the final bursts of his come stop, he pulls out swiftly getting off the bed, grabbing your ankles to drag you to the edge. Flipping your body over and pulling up you on your knees, he shoves your face into the bed as he inserts himself into you again. His pace doesn’t slow down as he ruts into you. It felt like he was even deeper than before. One of his hands moves to your shoulder to pull you back as he slams into you, his other hand moves to your clit to rub hard circles on it stimulating you further.

“Fuck Mig--- im--- im cuming” You scream as you cum again hard, doing exactly what he wanted and squirting. He could feel it all over his hand, making him cum again inside of you. You look back at him as you finish feeling him cum in you, thinking that he must be done. The sight you see behind you makes you know that you weren’t even close to finished. Miguel had his hand that was covered in your squirt up to his face inhaling deeply before he stuck his tongue out licking his fingers. He gets even harder inside you; it doesn’t look like there would be any sleep tonight, he really was going to ruin you.

The next morning you wake up, bruised and sore. Your head was on Miguel's chest and he was snoring peacefully under you. With a groan, you get up as you feel a notification on your gizmo, you had almost completely forgotten that you had requested Lyla to analyze the substance. As you look at the results you feel incredibly embarrassed, mortified. The substance that was on Miguel was some sort of aphrodisiac, so that’s why he was acting that way towards you. As you were getting further into your head about last night events Miguel woke up.

“Your thinking woke me up.” He grumbles as he sits up looking over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. He reads the results of the substance that was on him and now he understands what you were possibly thinking. You thought he only wanted you because of the aphrodisiac, but with the way he marked you he would have thought you would know that he wanted YOU and you ALONE.

“Hey” He says as he touches your shoulder, you jump back from his touch.

“Hey, yeah so it’s fine you know. We can just forget about everything last night, I know you couldn’t control yourself. Its fine” You ramble on trying to not embarrass yourself further, he gentle grabs your chin as you speak a stark contrast from his behavior last night and some of this morning. He doesn’t say anything but look into your eyes giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It wasn’t just that, I only wanted it to be with you. I only thought about you. Alright?” He says in the most gentle way you have ever seen him speak. A small smile forms on your lips from the reassurance.

“Alright.” You say and he gives you another kiss, a little more aggressive this time. How was this man not tired anymore?! You saw the half-life on the substance he should be done. “Miguel, the effects should have worn off by now.”

“They have,” He says against your mouth. “This is YOUR effect” moving your hand to allow you to feel for yourself how you affect him. Before things could go any further, you get a notification from your new tech and your gizmo that there were two anomalies in this dimension, around the areas that you detected yesterday.

“See, I knew it!” You exclaim as you activate your suit almost forgetting what you were just doing with Miguel. His dick twitches under your hard and you remember what’s going on. “Oh right, uhm this first, and then we can go back to headquarters and I can take care of that for you,” You say with a sultry smile which makes his dick twitch again.

You and Miguel catch both of the anomalies in record time, him being extra careful to avoid the pollen this time. The two of you continue where you left off after you get back to headquarters, immediately both taking your leave which received knowing glances from both Lyla and Jess.

#smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #atsv fanfiction #miguel atsv #spiderman atsv #atsv #sex pollen #one bed trope #miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x you #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o hara x reader

484 notes · View notes

exhaslo · 5 months

Text

Puzzle Pieces Ch16

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, torture, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, praise, shower sex, aftercare

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was cloudy as snow started to fall heavily upon the city. A sudden chill ran up your spine as you tried to cover yourself up in the blanket some more. The heat was on, but you still felt the cold from outside.

Your body felt weak and exhausted from yesterday. While there was the relief of Eddie never bothering you again, just seeing him still brought you down in the dumps. He always made you feel sick to your stomach. At least Miguel was here to ease your worries.

Reaching out to your loving boyfriend, you let out a whimper. You felt congested and dizzy. Snuggling into Miguel, you coughed and closed your eyes again. He felt so warm and comforting. Perfect to go back to sleep too.

"Hn, (Y/N)? You don't sound too well," Miguel muttered as he started to wake up. You coughed again,

"I'm...fine...just need...some more...rest," You whispered tiredly, "Long...day yes...terday..."

Miguel sat up, stroking your head as you started to drift back into a deep slumber. He let out a soft sigh, knowing that this was partly his fault. Miguel was worried that taking you yesterday would push you too far and it did. The stress of it all had gotten you sick. So today was probably not going to be the best for you either.

"Baby, I have to head out, but I promise to be back early and to bring you some medicine, okay?" Miguel whispered as he kissed your head.

"Mhmm," You lazily replied in your sleep.

As Miguel scooted off the bed, he heard your whine and chuckled. You were reaching out for him, how tempting. If Miguel were to get back into the bed, then he might take advantage of your cute sickly body.

As painful as it was, Miguel got ready for another day of work. He would rather stay by your side, but what he was doing today was for you. Calling Lyla, Miguel did make sure that someone would be here for you if you need help.

He wasn't going to let his future wife be lonely.

Once Lyla arrived, Miguel made his way out. His phone was blowing up with messages from Peter, and Miguel knew why. A clear smirk was on his face as Miguel had all of the pieces start to stick together. This was going to be a glorious puzzle once completed.

----------

This was personal. Miguel made sure to keep his guests waiting. Entering the supermarket with Hobie and Ben behind him, Miguel approached the deli. He glanced over at your former Supervisor and just gave a simple nod.

"Attention customers, due to a spill in the cleaning aisle, we must ask that everyone leave the store. Again, please exit the store in a timely fashion. We apologize for any inconvenience." The supervisor spoke over the loud speaker.

Miguel glanced as one of the workers 'accidently' spilled two chemicals that were definitely not supposed to mix. As he entered the third freezer, Miguel just smirked towards the loud yelling and bickering coming from inside.

"This is NOT what we signed up for!!!!" Your mother screamed at the top of her lungs.

"We've been waiting here for hours!! You had my wife sleep on some shitty ass apartment floor! NOT A HOTEL! Where is your boss?!" Your father added.

"Right here," Miguel said calmly as he appeared before the two, "Was there something wrong with your accommodations?"

"Something wrong?! Everything was wrong!! Your lackey-"

"Ow," Peter whispered childishly.

"Told us that we were going to be treated like royalty! Given a five star hotel for the night and all inclusive dinner and breakfast! We received non of that! He threw us in a disgusting apartment building and we had to sleep on the floor!!! Are you going to compensate for our back pain?!" You father screamed. Your mother huffed and pitched in,

"We were given no dinner! No breakfast! Then you have us wait in this accursed place!"

"Oh? So if the apartment was not fitting for you, then why was it good enough for your daughter?" Miguel questioned before snapping his fingers, "As for food, I did bring you something."

"Pfft, daughter? What do you know about (Y/N)?" Your father asked with a scoff and saw a table being brought out.

"What I know, is that I plan to make your daughter my wife-"

"Haha! She's already engaged. You may have bought our supermarket, but what do you have to offer for our daughter's hand in marriage despite shitty service?" Your mother huffed and sat down in the seats that were given to them, "Besides, she will be marrying a fine young man soon. It's too late."

Miguel felt his smirk disappear as his anger started to show. Your parents were truly evil. It was for the best that you weren't here. You may have stood up to Eddie, but parents were another thing. Hell, not even Miguel could really stand up to his own mother.

"Do you mean Eddie?" Miguel asked as Hobie set two covered plates in front of your parents. Your father seemed to have beamed at the name,

"You know of him? Good!"

"Yes, I know of him. He's made quite a name for himself here in the city, but enough about that for now. You two must be starving. Enjoy your meal."

Miguel's smile returned as he watched your parents uncover their dishes and nearly cheered at the sight. Miguel was calm as he watched your parents stuff their faces while his men had to resist their laughter.

"At least the food is up to par with our standards. I've never tasted something so delicious! What is the main meat for this dish?" Your father asked. Miguel chuckled darkly,

"For you, I believe that would be Eddie's balls...for your wife, his dick."

Within the second, both started to cough and spit their food out. The two looked at their plate in horror. Miguel leaned back in his seat,

"As I mentioned, Eddie did make quite a name for himself here. So much so that I had to put a stop to him. To think that you would let such a horrible influence get near your daughter in the first place, disgusts me." Miguel slammed his fist against the table, "The pain that you two brought her. The pain that you ignored? The two of you are insects to me."

"You can make as many threats as you want-"

"Threats?" Miguel chuckled once more as Jessica dropped some pictures, "As you can see, Eddie is just barely breathing. I made sure he suffered just as much as (Y/N) and some. Do you really think I brought you two here for small talk?"

"W-Who-" You mother nearly froze in fear as she started to understand the situation they were in, "W-What do you want from us?"

"What I want is to have you skinned and killed, but (Y/N) will cry if I do such a thing to her parents. She resents you, but still cares. Isn't that nice? Your daughter still has a heart for demons like yourself, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have to know about this."

"As if we won't tell-"

"Tell her what?" Miguel pushed your father down and pressed a gun to his head, "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me right now to not pull this trigger?"

"Please! Please don't kill him!" Your mother cried, "We'll do anything! Please!"

"Finish your meal. I want to see that plate spotless." Miguel waited until the two of them started to eat again, "Don't puke. You still have plenty more meals after this. Can't let anyone find Eddie's body now, can we?"

Miguel slowly returned to his seat, watching your parents cry as they forced themselves to eat. Now, Miguel had never done anything this cruel before and of course, he wasn't actually planning on feeding Eddie to your parents.

Just his junk.

But the fear in their eyes was enough for now. Eddie's use was finally done, so Miguel could finish him off and dump his body in the river. Once the plates were clean, Miguel slid a document over to your parents.

"Read and sign. You will never contact (Y/N) again. She will make that decision on her own. You will nullify the marriage for I will be taking (Y/N) as my wife. If you mention anything about this, then you'll be joining Eddie. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." They both said in unison.

Miguel watched as your parents quickly signed the contract. Once the deed was done, Miguel removed himself from the room and told everyone to do what they pleased. Your parents were quick to cry for help, begging for their lives.

They weren't going to die, but they will wish they did.

-----------

You sniffed and cried into your pillow, complaining about not being able to breathe and missing Miguel. Lyla found it both cute and slightly annoying. The fact that you loved Miguel so much despite him being such a brute was the annoying part.

"It's okay, he'll be back soon. The vampire doesn't like his sun," Lyla teased.

"Stop calling me that," Miguel said with a heavy sigh as he placed some medicine and a bag down.

"M-Miguel!" You sobbed, reaching out for him. Miguel chuckled as he dismissed Lyla, "M-Miggy! I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby." Miguel hummed as he picked you up. Your arms wrapped around him immediately, "Let's get you washed up."

You hummed happily, resting your head against his shoulder. Miguel undressed the both of you and filled the tub. His warm embrace, keeping you at ease. Miguel kept you between his legs once the bath was filled.

"I brought you some Pho, thought you could use something hot to ease your throat." Miguel kissed your head as his hands roamed your body. You muffled a quiet moan,

"T-Thank you, Miggy," You cooed, his hands groping your breasts, "H-How...was...y-your day?" You asked.

Miguel kissed your neck, making your already fuzzy brain even more rattled. Your breathing got heavier as Miguel's hands kept teasing your body. You turned to face Miguel, burying your head against his neck as you whimpered and moan.

"Accomplished," Miguel replied as his hands started to rub your clit, "I was able to get everything I wanted done."

"G-Good...mhm..."

Your arms snaked around his neck as you started to move your hips to his hands. Your body was already burning up and weak, causing you to reach your orgasm quicker than usual. Miguel must have found this amusing since he chuckled.

"Awe, is my good girl a little more sensitive today?" He teased, his finger now inside you, curling against your gummy walls, "Don't worry, I won't tease you for long. Gotta wash you up,"

"M-Miggy~" You moaned with a cough.

Your vision was blurry enough as it was, but you could still see Miguel's loving expression. You cried out as Miguel slid his cock into your folds, starting his rough charade of thrusts. Your grip was tighter against his neck as you cried and moaned his name.

"Such a good girl, taking me in so well," Miguel grunted as he held your waist, "I'm going to take such good care of you from now on,"

"Ah~ Hah~ M-Mig~" You shivered, clenching against his dick as you cam once more. Miguel pulled you in for a kiss before giving you a load of his seed,

"You don't have anything to worry about now, (Y/N)" He said with a grunt, pressing your back against the wall as he turned the shower on now, "You're safe with me,"

"Mhm~ Y-Yes....I-I am~" You agreed, barely able to hold onto him.

Miguel realized that he was getting carried away and decided to just give you one more load of him. He grunted as he held you in place, enjoying the last of your sickly moans and whimpers. With a heavy sigh as he felt you suck his dick in, Miguel waited for him to finish cumming before pulling out.

"Mig..."

"Shh, can't waste all you're energy, baby. You still need to eat and take your medicine," Miguel said with a chuckle as he cleaned you up.

You squirmed slightly in place, muffling small whines as Miguel washed your body. His hands were still so hot compared to your burning skin. Feeling yourself being lifted, you leaned against Miguel as he carried you out of the shower.

"Don't fall asleep yet," Miguel whispered as he dried you.

"Shirt..." You pleaded.

Miguel complied and gave you one of his shirts to wear. He dressed himself once he finished with you and carried you back to the bedroom. Sitting you in his lap, Miguel helped fed you the soup and gave you the medicine.

"Get a good's night rest, (Y/N). I have a lot to tell you tomorrow." Miguel whispered as he kissed your head.

"Ni...ght."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

next chapter (final)

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

580 notes · View notes

aliorsboxostuff · 1 year

Text

ANOTHER SELF INDULGENT FIC? YES. I told yall i love fangs SO MUCH AAARGHH and MIGUEL?? HAVING FANGS?? HELLOOOOOO anyhow this is just full of me simping for that beautiful, insane man. Gotta love me a dilf with fangs and claws. Anyhow enjoy this piece yall lmao. I PROMISE ILL GET TO YOUR REQUESTS

Canines

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Miguel O’hara x gn!reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Jessica Drew, Ben Riley, Spider Society, No Smut, Almost ig?, Fluff, He/Him prns for Reader, Reader is a sunshine, Soft!Miguel, Established relationship, This is just me simping for Miguel tbh, gotta love this man, slight sub!Miguel, Kissing, making out, HIS FANG BRO

Even after spending time with Miguel, successfully becoming his boyfriend and getting on his good side, there's the one thing you can get your mind off of; those damn fangs.

—

You and Miguel have been dating for a solid 5 months now. You still remember the day you got introduced to the spider society and met him. Those dark eyes that flash red, tall and broody, sharp talons that scrape against metal, swept back hair that might as well have swept you off your feet. No literally. The first day you went to meet him you tripped on air and fell straight into his arms.

How did that manage to win his heart? Now that's the real anomaly.

One thing you can't get over and can't seem to wrap your head around is his fangs. You’ve been told by him it's used to paralyze enemies when needed, and most of the time he forgets it’s there. But in your mind, you keep replaying the times when he talked, or his rare smiles and laughs reserved for only you. How does he eat with it? Did he ever bite himself when he goes on his rants? How does he not have a lisp with how big they are?

When the sharp fangs glints and it sends shivers down your body. Curiosity and arousal clouds you whenever Miguel talks, and it’s honestly distracting at team meetings.

“Hey, you there?” He snaps his fingers in front of you as you blink away the thoughts, realizing a couple of other Spideys in the briefing looking at you with squinted eyes.

“Oh yeah- Sorry, pre-mission anxiety and all,” You tried to laugh it off, averting from Miguel's worried gaze. He knows you're capable, he knows you're strong, that's the reason why you're always with him on missions, why you're trusted with a team. But those flashing red eyes couldn't help but hesitate each time you leave the base.

Miguel continues the brief, assigning teams to universes and anomalies. He sends you off with your teams while he leads his. Each team consists of two spideys, if the anomaly is a particularly notorious villain in their respective universes, Miguel would send three. You’re standing next to Jessica, her bike parked just meters from the portal. While the others had already jumped, Miguel stayed behind while Ben jumped first into the portal. The hum of Jessica’s bike startles you and breaks your eyes from staring at Miguel, and she seems to notice.

“Go ahead, go talk to him,” She nods, a small smile on her lips before she rides off into the portal. You sigh, with your boyfriend staying behind, he seems to have the same idea.

You walk across the metal floor, Miguel standing just near his portal. “So, an easy one today, huh?”

“Yeah, me and Ben can take care of him, it’s just another Doc Oct,” He checks something on his watch, the orange hologram lighting up. You can't help but notice it gleams against his fangs.

“Alright, uhm-” You cough, alerting Miguel as he turns to you. “Be safe out there, babe,”

The way you said those last words, too small for your usual cheerfulness, makes Miguel’s brows furrow. He reaches for your hand, softly holding them. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine! Don't worry baby,” You smirk, patting his arm where he’s still holding your hand. “Stay safe, and come back home, okay?”

Miguel tilts his head slightly, before his lips quirks, a ghost of a smile. “You too, my love,”

And with that, Miguel turns and enters his portal, the circle closes as he disappears. You sigh, both relieved and frustrated somehow. You shook your head, trying to dissipate those thoughts, at least for the time being. Glancing at your portal, you take another breath, before running and leaping into it, another day of saving the multiverse.

—

“Okay, what's going on?” You turn to Jessica leaning on her bike, arms crossed and one brow raised. It’s the ‘Spill It’ face you’ve come to love, but also loathe when she uses it on you.

“What’s ‘what’ going on?” Jessica scoffs, tilting her head when your back is still facing her while you twip a web at the Lizard's jaw, the anomaly tied and secured, ready for transport. “Nothings going on,”

She sees you shrug as you turn around, her only response is to nod again, gauging an answer. Her eyes stare deep into you, making you gulp as you aver her sharp, questioning glare. A beat passes, your suit suddenly feels clammier than usual. You tug slightly at the part that hugs your neck, looking down at the street.

“Okay fine!” You huff, a satisfied smirk from Jessica. “I’ve been thinking about Miguel-”

“That's not new sweetie,” She snickers, making you stumble on your words.

“I’m- I know but it's not about him… I guess?”

“Go on…”

“Have you-” You huff, crossing your arms. “You’ve seen his fangs, right? Those sharp things,” You point to your own little fangs, which makes Jesicca hum.

“Hard not to,” She shrugs.

“You ever wonder how sharp they are?” You tilt your head, fully turning to Jessica. “Y’know it's pretty big, and pretty sharp, I wonder how he doesn't bite himself with it? Or how he doesn't have a lisp, or maybe he can retract them but then when he talks it’s always out so I don't know if he can do that, we’ve kissed a couple of times but I didn't feel those things-”

“Okay whoa there,” She chuckles, walking towards you. “I get it, cool fangs, you’re curious about them,”

She places her hands on your shoulders, a grin on her lips. “That's what got you all distracted today?”

“Yeah… Sorry,”

“Oh don't be kid, I get it,” She nods, before giggling. “Not ‘get it’ get it, but you're in love, and love makes curiosity and wonder, and I get that,” She pats your arms.

“Bring that up with Miguel, would’ya?” She grinned, a mischievous glint behind her goggles. You blink, realizing she has started walking back to her bike. You chuckle, a steady blush spreading on your cheeks.

“Y-yeah, I will,” You smile, shooting out webs to bring the anomaly back while Jasicca rides into the portal first.

—

Once the anomalies are stored in their cells and boxes, Miguel debriefs the others while you were making sure each anomaly is accounted for.

“I think that's all, right Lyla?” You nod to her small figure sitting on your shoulder. She looks at one of her holograms before nodding.

“Yep! All here,” Her holograms disappear as she glitches and changes to your right shoulder. She suddenly leans in, a dangerous smirk on her face. “So that's what’s up huh?”

You groan, flinching your shoulder which makes her hologram change to stand in front of you. “Lyla you know I hate it when you listen in,”

“Hey I always listen in, y’know I’m online at all times,” She snickers. “Don't worry, your secret is safe with me,”

You huff, which makes her laugh as you roll your eyes. You glance at Miguel, still talking with the other spideys, those distracting fangs just barely visible between his soft lips.

“Sooo…” Lyla floats in front of you, again. “You plannin’ on saying anything?”

She can practically hear the gears in your head turning, before you sigh and remove your mask, adjusting your ruffled hair. “I suggest you stay offline tonight,”

Lyla spots the blooming red that spreads across your face, at which she giggles mischievously. “Okay, whatever you say,” She shrugs before glitching to your right. “I'll just hang out with Margo then,”

“Yeah, thanks Lyla,” A grateful smile on your lips. Lyla nods before she disappears and leaves you alone.

Miguel has finally wrapped off the debrief and sent the others to do what they please since today's mission is over. The other spideys wave their farewell to you as they pass, you reply while you walk closer to your boyfriend. Jesica passes you, a sly smirk on her lips, before she pats your shoulder. You give her a small smile before nodding, and she’s on her way.

Miguel’s back is turned, busy with his monitor, wrapping up the day. His head tilts a bit, as he notices you're walking toward him. You pull one of the stray chairs to Miguel's platform and as if instincts, he sat down just as you pushed it behind him. His eyes are still scanning the monitors but he turns slightly towards you as you lean on the consoles.

“Good job out there Miguel,” You smile, glancing at the screens.

“You too, as always,” His lips quirks, one arm rests on the chair while the other swipes at the screen. “Though I have seen some things we can improve on the teams. I haven't debriefed you yet like the others, so listen to me okay?”

You nodded, crossing your arms into a more relaxed tone. “Good, so according to team three we need to-”

And that's the last thing you hear before you turn to look at Miguel, catching that sharp glint of those fangs. Around you, Miguel usually lets his guard down, his way of letting you know he trusts you. So he talks more, his hands punctuate what needs to be punctuated, and those lips move wider. In other circumstances, listening to him would be easy, but with each word he spoke, a peak of those sharp fangs caught your attention instead. Miguel continues to point out the images on the screens, occasionally asking you a question to which you responded with a ‘Uhuh’ or ‘Yeah’. That seemed to satisfy Miguel until—

“-And that's to add the upgrades on your suit, what do you think?”

“Uhuh,”

“What?” Miguel retracts, tearing his eye away from the screens. “I asked about your suit?”

A beat passes, before you blink, realizing your boyfriend was staring, and shaking yourself out of the daze. “Huh? What did you ask?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. Sadly those muscles adds another point to the distraction. “Were you even listening to me?”

He stiffens, watches as you stand in front of him, one arm on the chair's headrest, completely trapping him in. Slowly, your other hand moves up, and settles on his jaw. Throughout the months of dating you, Miguel has never seen this side of you, never seen how bold you could be. Steady hands cup his jaw, your thumb gliding across his lips, before you press slightly. As if a switch is flipped, Miguel inhales sharply and parts his lips, inclining his head when you hold his chin. Your thumb moves over his lower set of fangs, before suddenly followed by your other hand, pushing his mouth open to expose his upper, sharper fangs. His eyes flashes and brows furrows slightly, surprised at the sight of your rapt expression, eyes scanning him.

There's a hint of fondness behind those usually irritated gazes as he looks at you before he sighs and opens his mouth to continue his question before you were overcome with the sudden urge to see. You lean off of the console and approach your boyfriend. “Sorry, Miguel I just have to-”

“Fascinating…” You lean closer, taking pride in the way Miguels is stunned, practically crushing the armrest under his claws. Your index pushes at his upper jaw, letting you get an eyeful of that part of Miguel you’ve been dreaming about. It reflects the blue lights in the room, your eyes widen at it. Your thumb touches its start before gliding down to the pointed end, Miguel pants lightly. How would they feel against my skin?

Your eyes roam up to the prominent blush on Miguel's cheeks, the red in his irises shakes. Slowly, you bring him closer, one hand stays on his chin while the other moves behind his head. His eyes flutter as you press your lips against his, his gasp allows you to slide your tongue inside. Carefully, you trace that sharp fang, making Miguel grunt, his hand suddenly gripped your wrist, pulling apart.

“Don't- It’s dangerous,” He says between pants, the blush coloring his beautiful complexion.

“Paralysis, right?” You smirk, fingers playing at his curled strands. Miguel shivers then swallows hard. “How about we unwind from today,”

A glint in your eyes, watching as Miguel becomes putty between your hands, his blown-out pupils staring at you in reverence. You smirk, breath ghosting against his lips when you bring him closer again.

“Show me what those fangs do, baby,”

Reblogs appreciated! Requests are opened! <3

#miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x m!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut

2K notes · View notes

artistic-boi-cakko · 8 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara X Artist Male reader (smut)

Size kink, 18+, NSFW, MDNI, Male reader, top Miguel, virgin reader.

Miguel O'Hara, also known as Spider-man 2099 working as a computer Engineer for the time being in the year 2023 after leaving his job in Alchemax, loosing his family.

He is currently stuck in the year 2023, he is trying to find out ways to go back to his year. He wants to create a place where he could jump into any universe and have people from other universes come to his, without glitching or facing risks to die. He had found a way to make a watch where he himself wont glitch but its still hard for him to do the rest.

Currently, for a living he is working as a 9-5 computer engineer while finding out ways to achieve his goals.

He is living in a 2 BHK apartment with an artist named M/N L/N.

With puffy red eyes, bags clearly visible under his eyes Miguel stretched out his arms and legs sitting on his chair. As he is completing the codes he need to present the next day to his cunning Boss.

Work is tiring for him which is overcome with his will to make a living whilst working to achieve his goals alongside. Fighting off the past villains to protect the city of New York.

Sounds of clicks of mouse and keyboard keys are soon replaced by sounds of bone cracking and groans from Miguel as he is stretching his body to relax his muscles.

"Hush, finally things are done to shut that idiot's nagging, irritating voice" he mumbled under his breath.

He opened the door of his room and walked out of the room shutting the door on his way. He walked towards the kitchen, he saw a plate covered with a glass tray cover, a smile formed on his face as he plucked out the little note stuck to the tray cover, Eat the pasta after you're done with work. Better eat it. I'm not an idiot for making this. Miguel chuckled at the hidden kindness of his roommate, M/N L/N.

He and M/N have been roommates for the past few months. They have talked about their lives a little but doesn't exactly consider each other as good friends, they do interact as they are living together. M/N a freelance animator and artist constantly working on his commissions and other profit generating projects.

Miguel had served himself a plate of pasta M/N prepared for him, he dug into the pasta and took a bite, he smiled as the flavors filled his tired mouth. He was eating the pasta... thoughts around the multiverse never leaving his mind... He was tired, he needed some kind of relief. It could be anything like anything.

He was washing the plates, his stomach full and satisfied with the food he ate... he wanted to pay a visit to his roommate. He looked at the time, it was 12 midnight. He wasn't sure if M/N was still awake. I walked towards the hand towel near the kitchen counter and wiped his hands. He wanted to try his luck.

Miguel went towards M/N's room and knocked on his door. With just one knock he realized the door was open, he hesitantly walked inside and sighed in relief as he noticed his luck worked and M/N was wearing his headphones, blasting movies while animating. The music must be on full volume as some of the beats could be heard even if Miguel had entered the room but not near M/N.

He thought that if he wanted M/N's attention he needed to do a little bit of work and take off M/N's headphones.

He walked near the little boy in front of him and placed his hands on both sides of the headphones. The boy in front of Miguel jumped and turned around in a hurry in his chair, hitting and struggling a bit. Miguel moved away and let the boy face him.

"Good morning, it's 12 AM" Miguel chuckled. M/N removed his headphones and sighed. He looked up at the larger man, he was facing Miguel but his gaze passed right past Miguel's face. He clenched his tired mouth from not speaking for hours and let out a light cough before speaking "Good morning" he said and swallowed some of the saliva in his mouth. "What do you want?" M/N asked still with his head up facing Miguel.

The larger man still with a silly face replied "Huhmmm Can't i see my roommate? Also thank you for the food"

"You can visit me and it was my pleasure to feed the idiot" M/N said rather bluntly, his face was also tired and puffy. His condition with workload was the same as Miguel only difference between the two men was that M/N's room was always rather dim lighted and had cans of energy drinks and coffee lying around indicating towards the boy's addiction and need for caffeine, indicating his caffeine addiction and unusual reserved nature.

Miguel smiled and sat on M/N's bed which was near the boy's working table. Miguel looked at all the cables connected on the boy's working table. He looked at the display tablet connected to the desktop, he was mesmerized by the colors of the animation M/N was making... The boy's work always worked like a drug for Miguel, he loved the color palette the boy always used.

"Whatcha' making this time?" Miguel asked, he leaned on M/N's bed propping his body towards the wall with which the single size bed was connected to.

"About inner demons, work anxiety, it's more of a tweening than animation" M/N said as he moved his chair towards Miguel.

Miguel, still looking at whatever the boy made, forgot to hear what M/N had to say to him.

M/N snapped his fingers in front of Miguel's face, breaking him out of his trance. Miguel changed his focus towards him.

"Yes? Sorry I couldn't hear what you had to say to me" Miguel confessed, he noticed the boy's eyes, his beautiful e/c (eye color) eyes were glistening, he found them attractive.

Since the time M/N asked to be Miguel's roommate introduced by one of the friends of Miguel who wanted Miguel to be in someone's company and did not wanted him to be all alone and reserved. Miguel had always found men like M/N to be attractive and cute... He likes submissive, timid boys like M/N, as they are easy to gain trust with and are loyal in a relationship, not to mention the size kink Miguel have is satisfied after having sex with men like M/N.

M/N sighed and repeated "I was saying, if you wanted to go back to your room as you are all over my bed" he said pointing at Miguel who is now lying in M/N's bed, he continued "You seem sleepy. If you want to sleep here I don't mind, I will sleep in your room". Miguel's cheeks burned and turned red... he was embarrassed "Uh... Of course! Uhmhumm I won't sleep here don't worry" Miguel said as he shot up from the bed, sitting up now and patting the bed as he spoke "You can sleep here, have your comfy lovely sleep here" M/N felt a chuckled almost escaping but bit it back in.

Miguel was eyeing M/N's body up and down taking in the sight of M/N's strong but delicate arms and legs... M/N worked out in his room as he had dumbbells laying in a corner of his room. Miguel was almost drugged every time he would look into M/N's eyes, something about them just urged him to hug M/N tightly in his arms and coo at him lovingly. He wanted to hold onto that slim and well built face and caress his hair... Miguel wanted M/N in his arms and spent the whole day kissing his face and lips... he wanted to caress M/N's hips and have them against his pelvis. Everything about the boy was just perfect to Miguel. He forgot to take notice that M/N has turned back and is resuming his work on the animation.

Miguel adjusted himself more on the bed making himself more comfortable. M/N hated having people in his room and he would have kicked out someone like Miguel instantly, someone who is messing with the bedsheets, being comfortable in his room. Miguel was an exception, as M/N grew comfortable around Miguel and trusted him.

M/N sometimes hates when he gets attached with people around him as it only pains him when people leave him. He was almost done with the animation. Actually, he was done, all that was needed was to save and export the project and make it ready to post it on his Ko-fi page.

Miguel was looking around his room and noticed a sketchbook on M/N’s work table, he picked it up and started flipping through the pages. He was smiling and admiring at the paintings of outdoor sceneries and a few perspective sketches in M/N’s sketchbook, as he was flipping around he noticed that as he flipped M/N’s drawings are going more towards having human portraits from a normal pose practice to suggestive poses. Miguel's eyes widened as he noticed a man naked in a suggestive position masturbating in one of the pages, his face turned red. M/N glanced towards Miguel and panicked, he lunged forward and snatched the sketchbook from Miguel’s hands.

Miguel spoke up “Dang you like guys!”

“Yea?! SO what? And you should have ASKED first before going through my sketchbook and commenting!” M/N snapped back. Miguel was taken aback for sometime before speaking “There is no shame in being gay… I.. I am also a bisexual.”

M/N was silent for sometime “Still, doesn't give you the permission to look around my things” “Sorry” Miguel said, he was wondering something “Who is this guy you drew? Is he a Pornstar or-” Miguel was cut off in between “My High-school crush, whom I don't crush on anymore” M/N said

“Woah, can I ask another question?” Miguel asked curiously wanting to know more about M/N.

M/N sighed and nodded. “What did you find attractive in him?” Miguel asked, picking up the sketchbook again and opening the page where M/N’s former High-school crush was drawn.

“I had a weird phase of being attracted to sporty bad guys” M/N admitted blushing.

The red dust on M/N’s s/c (skin color) face was something which was enough to send Miguel’s brain haywire. Miguel was now really just fighting off the urge to hold M/N and embrace him, he knew he shouldn't do that.

“Won't judge you, everyone is stupid in High-school. But you know these memories are fun and cringe which makes our life livable and add some spice to it” Miguel said as he leaned into the bed almost laying down again.

M/N looked at Miguel, he blushed a little. Miguel’s arm muscles were something he always loved to look at, they were big and beautifully sculpted. His thick fingers, large hands, strong biceps were something M/N always wished to hold one and feel on his body, he has a very dominating personality but when he looks at Miguel he immediately becomes his submissive, timid and goofy mode. Even now he wants to go to his goofy mode but he is too tired for that. He sometimes hates that he finds himself taking sneaky glances towards his roommate’s crotch.

Miguel’s chest moved up and down as he took a deep breath. M/N’s brain almost died out but held himself together. Miguel raised his eyebrow as he looked at the boy in front of him and chuckled “Weekend is here now. I am done with my work and i feel your work is something where you can take breaks as you don't have a boss nagging you all the time. So, wanna go out somewhere?” he asked

M/N giggled as he said “I am my own Boss and I am not sure, I don't like going out, its tiring and irritating.”

Miguel looked at M/N in surprise, why wouldn't he like to go out? Is it one of the 'artists don't touch the grass' thing?

"Touching the grass is good sometimes. How long has it been since you touched it?" Miguel asked careful at his words. "Nah, I just don't like going out… it's annoying just like I said. No particular reason" M/N said.

Miguel sighed "not soon. But I will drag your ass out of this apartment." He said.

M/N was staring at Miguel confused and a little anxious. "Fine… we will see about that" he said with a sigh. "But why do you want to take me out?" The boy asked. Miguel raised his eyebrow "Hehe, nah it's not a date. I just wanna hang out with ya'" he said with a smirk on his face. He could feel M/N's embarrassment after hearing his words. "UGH! Idiot! I didn't.. umm.. LEAVE IT!" The boy stuttered with his face flushed red.

Miguel laughed lightly as the boy in front stumbled on his words. "You're cute" he mumbled under his breath. "Not funny!" M/N bluttered out, he was fidgeting with his fingers. Miguel was looking at his little fingers, oh he so wanted to feel the boy intimately.

"Alright I still have a few sketches left, I will be working on them. If you want you can stay or leave. I don't mind either." M/N said as he turned towards the two screens, opened a new file and started sketching.

It's been an hour since M/N started working on the last sketches and Miguel is laying in his bed. Miguel was looking at the boy working… his head spinning in need. He was desperate at this point, the way M/N moved his hands and used his fingers to zoom in and out and move the canvas around. Miguel felt dirty at first for finding bits of arousal at such normal actions but he wasn't able to control his urges at this point.

Miguel sat up on the bed and moved his arms towards M/N, his head spinning in need. His placed his hand on M/N's shoulder making the boy flinch.

M/N looked at Miguel, whose eyes were looking at him seductively, panting here and there, closing his eyes and opening them again, the eyes which were filled with lust and need. M/N at first decided to ignore that Miguel was actually the way he thought he was.

Miguel pulled the chair M/N was sitting on closer. M/N in hurry was pressing down the short cut keys to save his project as he was pulled towards Miguel. He sighed and looked up at the man front of him… Miguel is indeed way taller than he was even if he would wear his 3 inch platforms Miguel would be way taller than he is.

Miguel bit his lip before speaking his mind off, he wasn't sure about his words but knew at the back of his mind that he won't regret a thing. "My my… you're such a cute little boy I have never seen in my entire life" he started as he cupped M/N's face in his hands "someone so vulnerable, attractive, innocent doesn't deserve to be so lonely. Always blasting music in his ear, drawing out his dark fantasies of loneliness" he continued.

M/N was confused at Miguel's words, not understanding what he was exactly talking about. "You're cute little fingers, waist, arms, legs, face. I could touch that all day making you feel less lonely and satisfied as well satisfying my own needs" he said. M/N started to blush and understand what Miguel meant, he looked down and noticed the large erection in Miguel's sweatpants, he was surely big.

Looking at the mass inside Miguel's underwear M/N also started to feel aroused himself and was just staring at anything front of him in a trance. He failed to notice that Miguel was now behind him and picked him up from his chair, he snapped out of his trance when he was thrown on the bed and Miguel climbed on top of him.

"Mi-Miguel! Wa- I- ng-" M/N stumbled on his words. Miguel chuckled in a low voice and moved his head closer to M/N's "your so cute. Tell me do you want me the same way I want you?" He asked in a low voice. M/N blushed his head spinning like crazy, he wanted his sexual fantasies to come true but he didn't know that they would come true like this. He slowly nodded and gulped.

Miguel was delighted to see the sight in front of him. He soon to be lover lay under him panting and blushing. "Make love with me then" he said in M/N's ear lowly. He moved his face towards M/N's lips and brushed his lips slightly against his.

He, at last pressed his lips on M/N’s and moved them. M/N’s didn't kiss back, not like he didn't want to he just didn't know how he felt interrupted. He managed to push his face forward and kiss Miguel back. They pulled away to breathe… Miguel was dying to just embrace the boy and burry his cock inside of him. But he had to be patient.

M/N wrapped his arms around Miguel's neck and took deep breaths. That was his first kiss… he wanted more… he NEEDED more. His breath hitched as he felt Miguel kiss his neck and start to lick it. Miguel pulled down the neck of the t-shirt M/N was wearing and kissed down more. He couldn't take this slow pace. He slid his hands under M/N's t-shirt and pulled it off, the boy's bare upper body was oh so soft, almost hairless, with very light hair on his chest not even visible if not looked closely… but Miguel was going to see the sight from a much closer perspective. M/N was a blushing mess, he wanted to cover himself with his arms but he knew that what was going to happen was bound to happen and he was going to love it… his head was spinning in need. He really needed Miguel and as he was thinking he grabbed Miguel's head as he started to suck at M/N's collar bone and caress his waist.

M/N now had a boner in his boxers dying to be free. Miguel was moving his hand up and flicked the sensitive bud on M/N's chest making the boy bit back a moan. Miguel smirked at this and kissed and licked the area between M/N's chest. He was lightly sucking on the area, he palmed the right side of M/N's chest and neared his mouth to his nipples. Miguel started licking M/N's right nipple and rolled the other one between his index finger and thumb.

He was sucking on it like a hungry man, M/N's was squirming under Miguel's touch, he was happy that he got what he needed. Miguel moved his eyes up to look into M/N's eyes and closed his eyes again still sucking on the nipple, the lewd noises were enough to send M/N's head haywire, "nngh~" he lightly moaned out. He wasn't much of a screamer but he squirms a lot.

Miguel chuckled and he let go of the now red nipple. He moved sideways to give the same treatment to the other nipple making M/N move around even more and even kicked and jerking his legs, lightly holding onto Miguel's shoulders and rolling his eyes back.

Miguel smiled "Not a screamer, Mi Amor. Don't worry, you will be screaming my name in no time" he said in a low voice. He love touching M/N's soft body, the cold body being warmed up under his touch clouding the other's head with lust and desire to touch and get touched.

Miguel was looking into those beautiful e/c eyes that were filled with lust and desire, he chuckled "don't worry, I will take care of you" he said as he kissed the boy under him again, this time M/N kissed back quickly squeezing his lips, Miguel parted away and looked at M/N in surprise as he thought M/N squeezed his lips because he didn't like the kiss "Is everything alright? You don't like the kiss?" He asked, lightly rubbing M/N's chest, he blushed and admitted "I don't know how to kiss properly, I tried kissing back but I think it didn't work". Miguel smiled "then, allow me to teach you everything" and kissed him again. He wants to teach the innocent inexperienced boy everything and he would, how to kiss, suck his cock properly, relax as Miguel would finger him and also teach him to take his large cock in his ass.

Miguel kneaded the boy's hips and pressed his erection against his ass. Miguel parted away from the kiss and took off his own t-shirt, showing his well built torso, every muscle was Jacked up and ripped. M/N was basically drooling at the sight, wanting the body to rub against his.

Miguel took off M/N's shorts and boxers revealing his 4 inch cock, the boy jumped as the cold air hit his bare lower region. Miguel quickly caressed his thighs with his hands warming him up "don't worry. I will warm you up in no time" he mumbled in a deep voice in M/N’s ear. He kissed his ear lobe and nibbled on his ear, he kissed and licked down the boy's body and stopped right above his pelvis.

M/N squirmed at Miguel's actions and held his head that was hovering right above his cock, tip covered and flowing precum. Miguel looked up at M/N asking for approval, the boy nodded in response and Miguel quickly took the boy's cock in his mouth and started sucking on it expertly. M/N jerked his hips up and tightly held on Miguel's hair, his body twisted in pleasure, his face lightly changing expressions, he wasn't very expressive but Miguel knew that if he managed to pull up even a slight change in expression from the boy meant he was doing a great job. Miguel moaned while still sucking the boy's cock, M/N started breathing heavily and felt tightness in his stomach he sucked in breath and arched his back. Miguel held his thighs down tightly to avoid him moving too much, he started to bob his head quickly while stopping midway to suck hard then bob his head again.

M/N's legs started to shake and he felt tingles all over his body, he puffed out breaths and with a strangled groan he climaxed inside Miguel's mouth. He was sweating now, Miguel swallowed this climax and pulled away. He smirked at M/N who was red and shivering in pleasure. He wanted more from Miguel.

Miguel smirked and kissed M/N's forehead "Do you trust me? Cariño" he asked. M/N nodded in response with the nod Miguel smiled and kissed M/N's cheek then lifted his legs and bend them towards M/N's chest "hold them tight, Mi Amor" Miguel said and M/N did as directed.

"Wait up, I will be back" Miguel said as he got up and went to his room to get a bottle of lube and some condoms. He came back inside M/N's room whose face flushed red as he saw the items in Miguel's hands. Miguel laughed lightly and placed them beside M/N's head who glanced at the items. Miguel took the bottle of lube and squeezed some of it onto his hand and smeared them properly on his fingers, he also poured some of it on M/N’s asshole, he sucked in air through his teeth at the cold lube.

Miguel placed his middle finger on M/N’s entrance and slowly pushed the finger inside, his long thick finger was a tough fit for the small boy. M/N whined around his fingers, the finger went easy but M/N was clenching around it tightly, clearly showing his lack of intimacy, more like never even got touched by a man before Miguel. He made a face of concern but was internally very happy to be the boy's first.

"Shhh don't worry, you're doing great just relax and i will do the rest" Miguel cooed. He slid the finger deeper looking for the spot, M/N was silent but his abdomen clenching in and out coping up with the finger inside him.

"Hangg!" The boy choked out as Miguel brushed his finger against his prostate. Miguel smiled and pressed down on the gland "Hehe, found it~" he said.

Miguel started to move the finger in and out, he poured some more lube, with the help of lube he started to move faster, M/N's breath was hatching. Miguel wanted to hear him moan and whimper but he knew it would basically be impossible to get the stubborn reserved boy to respond the way he wants him to.

Miguel soon pushed in a second finger, he started moving the fingers in and out and making scissoring motions with them to stretch out M/N's ass, who was letting out heavy pants trying his best to relax and breathe. He was looking at Miguel's face, he was getting what he always wanted. His crush is fucking him, right now with fingers which will soon be his dick.

He let out a loud moan as Miguel was now slamming four of his fingers on M/N’s prostate. He started whimpering and moaning, Miguel smiled and sighed as he heard the boy's voice. M/N screwed his eyes shut and whimpered as he was being finger fucked, he started feeling the same tightness in his stomach like before, he sucked in a breath sucking in his stomach.

Miguel noticed this and fastened his pace "Good boy, moan my name now" he said.

M/N was being a stubborn self again and stopped his whimpers and moans. Miguel was a little irritated now and teased M/N by completely removing his fingers from M/N who in response bucked his hips forward wanting to be touched again. His face was red and looked like he was holding himself back.

"Tsk tsk, only good boys get the reward to cum" he said chuckling a little as he took off his sweatpants and boxers and threw them on the floor along with M/N's and his t-shirt.

M/N's eyes widened as he stared at Miguel's cock, it was a good 1.5 inch thick and 8 inches long, dripping precum and looked like a beast free from a zillion years of imprisonment. Miguel sighed and groaned as he was finally free. He stroked his cock a few times and placed it on M/N's entrance, who panicked and yelped out "No! No! Wait wait!! This won't fit!" He wanted this dreamy veiny large cock but was scared of the later consequences. "Don't worry baby boy, we will make it fit." He said as teared the wrapped of the condom, taking it out sliding it down on his cock, he neared his face towards M/N's ear "Make it fit so good, you will be screaming my name wanting more of it. Make it fit so good you will be stretched around me, your hole gaping for more" Miguel spoke chuckling darkly as he plunged three of his fingers again inside M/N's ass.

His breath hitched again and he let out a long whimper and scrunched his face in pleasure. Miguel was moving his fingers in and out fast and hard. He pulled out his fingers suddenly then pushed in the tip of his cock and started pushing inside. M/N whined in pain with bits of pleasure alongside "nah~ wa.." he said with a cracked voice. Miguel stopped and gave him time to adjust, he was rubbing M/N's stomach gently and caressing his body helping him relax. He bend down and started licking and sucking on M/N's neck and shoulder "Shh, I will be gentle don't worry" he said as he slowly pushed in a bit more.

M/N was relaxed now, soon he felt Miguel's dick near his stomach "Ah~" he choked out.

Miguel smiled "Alright, want more of it inside?" He asked gently, still caressing his sides. "No, its too deep" M/N said, his eyes screwed shut.

Miguel was not completely inside and he was rushing for it. It was M/N's first time, he didn't want to hurt him, he sighed and pulled out a little and pushed that back in.

Miguel pulled out more than before almost pulling out completely then pushed back it receiving a choked moan from the boy. He started thrusting slowly, pulling out then pushing back in. He wasn't in a rush, he wanted M/N to be comfortable who was visibly swallowing big gulps of his own spit trying to make his body match Miguel's strokes. "Don't push yourself to adjust, your body will adjust and loosen itself on its own. Don't stress, it's your first time and I am here to take care of it" he said as he increased the speed of his strokes. M/N almost let out a loud moan but held it in.

After almost 15 minutes Miguel was now going faster, his thrusts still soft and gentle. M/N was holding in his breath not wanting to become a moaning mess just yet, Miguel smiled and rubbed his stomach and chest, licked his nipple and gave it a sensual gentle suck, he kept giving small but hard sucks while keeping up with his thrusts.

Sounds of sucking and light wet noises from Miguel’s thrusts were making M/N's sound sensitive self a bit overwhelmed. He opened his mouth letting his tongue out and breathing heavily, he held Miguel's face in place. Miguel smiled at this and continued sucking the same way he was and thrusting a little bit faster and harder. Ropes of cum came out of M/N's dick and he moaned out "Miguel!". Miguel sat up still and started thrusting more intensely as he heard the boy moan out his name.

M/N soon became a moaning mess, his prostate being rubbed up constantly, he was almost overstimulated. The same tightness again formed in his stomach, his breath started to hitch because of it. Miguel chuckled and grabbed his dick and started jerking it. M/N screamed and moaned out Miguel's name at the intense pleasure he was receiving. Miguel was now basically slamming the earlier pushed 4 inches inside of M/N.

M/N came with a loud moaning and turned into a moaning mess.

M/N had came two more times and was on the verge to pass-out. Miguel held onto his face and kissed his head, still slamming into him. His breath was heavy and uneven now as he was chasing his climax. "Good boy, your so adorable laying beneath me moaning and crying for me" he spoke in a horse voice. "I am gonna cum soon" he moaned and with that he released his semen inside the condom. He let out a deep sigh and panted out heavily. He was still inside then slowly started to pull out, M/N's hole gaping wide, who was overstimulated and shivering. He had never imagined that something can be so intense and wonderful. All the stress from working like a madman came down. Sex with Miguel was zillion times better than chugging down cans of caffeine.

Miguel pulled out the condom off his dick, pulled out a tissue and went to the bathroom attached to M/N's room to dispose off the condom in the trash can. He went back to M/N and laid beside him. He shifted him towards the corner of the bed where there was wall as a barrier to avoid the boy from falling and laid on his bed comfortably. Miguel hugged him and kissed his cheek.

He smiled at the boy "Did you have fun?" He asked. M/N nodded in response, unable to speak from such an intense experience.

"Would you like to do this more often with me? As my lover?" Miguel asked, whispering the last word in M/N's ear who shivered at his words and nodded.

M/N was slowly closing his eyes, he was already tired from working on his animations and illustrations without getting sleep from past 48 hours and now he was fucked out good by a massive dick, he wanted nothing but sleep now.

Miguel smiled and kissed his cheek, closing his own eyes.

Soon both men fall asleep in each others arms peacefully.

Thank you guys for reading this if you read it this far, I'm glad and grateful!

Please comment if you guys want more of Artist male reader fanfics. And also if you want the next part 'Aftercare' of this current fanfic.

#male reader #lgbtq #gay #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #atsv miguel #top miguel o'hara #bottom male reader #artist #au #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x reader #atsv smut #smut #miguel o'hara smut #long post

797 notes · View notes

sensei-venus · 11 months

Text

(Unedited) (Smut, Oral, F Receiving, idk of this counts as cheating-most like but😈, Robby probably knows?? Sue me because I’m horny 👽💀) ( @gemini-sensei & @miguelnation )

Thinking about how Robby takes his sweet little chubby girlfriend back to Johnny’s place because he knows Johnny isn’t coming home that night.

It starts with a sweet little make out session on the couch before moving to his room. He ends up fucking his pretty little girls fat pussy up for half of the night before their both tired out. She’s covered in hickies and finger shaped bruises, ass raw from slapping her fat cheeks.

After laying down together for a while he kisses her and tells her to relax. He gets up and goes to the bathroom to piss and get some after care supplies.

What Robby didn’t think of was the fact that just because Johnny wasn’t coming home, didn’t mean someone else wasn’t.

Miguel shows up after going for a night jog. He knows his mom and yaya are already asleep so he doesn’t want to bother them. Going to Johnnys and taking a shower wouldn’t be that bad of a idea so he didn’t accidentally wake them.

When he quietly enters the apartment he quickly starts to go down the hallway, only to find one of the doors open. At first he thinks that maybe Robby was here or something crashing. But as he gets closer to the door his eyes widen.

Looking in he doesn’t find Robby.

He finds a plum ass and thick chubby thighs out in the open naked to the eye. A fat glistening cum dripping cunt twitching at him. He knows it��s Reader because who else would be in Robby’s room buttass naked with a fat creampie spilling out their pus. Miguel thinks about it for a second before going in.

What would be more fun then eating out the cute chubby girl that he technically had a crush on first, who was also Robby Keene’s girlfriend.

He slowly walks into the room and gently gets onto the bed. Luck for him that Reader has basically covered her face with the blanket, probably trying to go to sleep after the other boy railed her. He licks his lips as he gently moves the girls legs open to show off her cunt. She whimpered but she pulls the covers over her face tighter. He smirks as he keeps her legs open. Swooping down he ever so slightly flicks her swollen clit. She jerks and moans but doesn’t try to stop him. He takes this as a sign and starts to kitten lick at her clit.

Soon enough he’s tracing her folds with the tip of his tongue. Licking fat straps up her sloppy cunt. He doesn’t even care that half the taste in his mouth is Robby’s, Reader’s cum was just to good to pass up. He sucks at the mess and that’s when Readers hand shoots down and grabs the back of his head. Fingers lacing though his dark curls and pulling him closer. For a moment he wants to retreat.

There was a clear difference between his thick curly locks and Robby’s thin straight ones.

But either Reader doesn’t care or she really doesn’t notice because she pulling it and whimpering under him now.

He grins and goes back down on her. Slurping up the new and old juices from her now gushing cunt.

What feels like forever but is really only a few good minutes. She’s coming all over his face. Smiling he covers her pussy with his mouth and drinks his fill of the mixed juices. Gulping it down as it squirts and flows from her channel. She spams and then falls limp back into the bed. Whining and moaning still under the covers. Miguel wipes his mouth with the back of his hoodie sleeve and just smiles. Looking down at her and his handy work. But after a good minute he knows he has to get out of there before Robby comes back.

Walking out of the room he looks back one more time before leaving and going back to his own apartment.

He could just take a shower there.

At least the trip to Johnny’s wasn’t a waste.

154 notes · View notes

1-900-venusluvs · 1 month

Text

i still adore you, I swear

🍃! Plug! Miguel x Fem! reader !🍃

A/n: guys i was mf arching my back and typing this out on my laptop n I'm so glad ppl like the first one I rlly appreciate itt pookies! also I had to crop some of this out cause my man was full on arching his BACKK but credits to JesGreenEight for this banner!!!

cw/smut warning: pure smut, Miguel being a freaky man, weed, shitty ending bc y'all KNOW i'm absolute dog dookie at writing them, creampie, oral (m receiving), somewhere in it I said that reader has a bad reflex and I'm so sorrayy.

So now here you are, smoking a joint with your plug. The harsh yet sweet aroma of weed filled his room. He passes the joint back to you letting you take a rip. You cough a little from the smoke clouding your lungs but still manage to have a smile. You pass the joint back to him without a word. Breaking the silence Miguel spoke in an almost slurred tone.

“I know it’s not the weed speaking but has anyone told you you're so attractive, ma?” His veiny hand finds your thigh before rubbing the flesh without knowing. You immediately snicker as you answer back in a flirty tone.

“Hmm no Miggy they haven't” he trails his hand closer and grips your inner thigh while chuckling, you two were just on the moon. He replies to your comment after taking a hit.

“Honestly I should show you how attractive you are to me.” your eyes widened at his statement but you were intrigued at most. The way his shirt hugged him, the way you can see his cock print through his sweatpants. It was all so feverish. He comes closer to you with his lips up to your neck making the hair stand up practically.

“You smell so good.” he finally says before placing kisses on your neck making you moan. His kisses go lower to your chest. He takes off your shirt revealing your skin to him. He instantly kisses your neck now having his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. The smell of weed and anticipation is clouding the room. Your panties are already soaked from when he first called you attractive. Before you know it��he speaks in an entertaining tone.

“How about you taking it out for me?”

You instantly pull down his pants and his underwear. His cock bounces to his stomach before standing back up. His cock was decorated with some hair. Your breath caught in your throat after realizing how hot it was. You knew it was wrong but it felt so damn good, you can say that.

He puts the palm of his hand on your cheek as he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, he looks down at you with love in his eyes. Were you always this pretty?

“Look at those pretty lips.”

he says in an admiring tone. You faintly smile before giving a couple of kitten licks and then actually putting your whole mouth on the tip.

“You like that?” You mumble out on his cock. Miguel could’ve just came right then and there. He saw how sexy you looked with your soft lips wrapped around his cock like a glove.

“There you go” he muttered under his breath. You push your head deeper onto his cock but you choke on it due to your horrible gag reflex. You pull back with a saliva string pulling with you.

“Hmm, Miguel..”

you say, slurring your words a bit. You were cockdrunk from him.

“You did such a good job, didn’t you? m’ so proud baby.” He spoke out while looking down at you. He breaks the moment of silence by saying.

“Think you can bend over for me mami?” He says before stroking his cock. You bend over to feel his huge hands grabbing and kneading the fat of your hips and pulling your pants down. He gasps and chuckles when he sees your panties with a wet spot making it noticeable. “I see you getting wet for me.” He says.

He pulls your panties to the side to see your plump lips soaked It just looks like you wanted to get fucked by him. He knows what you need, Just let him guide you. Suddenly you feel his fat mushroom tip lay on your clit.

“Are you ready bunny?” He just makes you feel mushy inside even if he’s saying simple things. You nod your head before preparing for his cock. He shoves his tip in, You whimper as you can feel being stretched out by his thick tip.

“Awhh shit. Your pussy’s huggin’ around me.” He moans out. He can even admit that your pussy did make him moan and groan. He has fucked many girls but they all just felt like he had to do it. With you, it feels special.

“Hmm, M-miggy..please move..” you moan. Your moans sounded pornographic. He bucks his hips into you while grunting.

“Ah this pussy got superpowers or somethin’ hm?” He jokes before smacking your plump ass. He loves the way it jiggles when he smacks it even lightly.

“God d-damn.” You manage to yelp out. He thrusts deeper into your pussy. “Fuck you're gonna make me cum. Can’t believe I have your cute ass under me.”

After minutes of moaning and groaning, you feel a full feeling. His cum sprays inside your cunt and you feel it Immediately fill your cunt up. When he pulls out his soft cock you can feel you can feel his cum leak out of your cunt.

“Your mine got it? my stock is coming soon but you're mine from now on,” he says hugging you to the bed and holding you fairly close to him. You feel butterflies roam around your stomach when you see his hand on your lower waist. Before you even spoke you heard his snores filling the room. You giggle quietly at the fact that he fell asleep in a second.

and here's to my taglist ( ◜‿◝ )♡: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei

321 notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months

Text

The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 5 🥀

AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader

Synopsis: You're on the show: Singles in Paradise. Former Bachelor!Miguel has some heavy news to break to you about your new relationship with Peter B., along with contending with his lingering feelings for you. He's racing against the clock as the rose ceremony is about to commence that night, and all of the drama is approaching a boiling point. Word count 6.4k

A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.

Part 1(contains links to previous parts)

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, DRAMA, DRUNKENNESS ,MISCOMMUNICATION, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CHEATING, BULLYING(NAME CALLING, TRASH TALKING BEHIND BACKS), FIGHTING(PUNCHING, SPIT IN FACE, CAT FIGHT) MILD VIOLENCE, BLOOD, MENTION OF ORAL SEX BUT NO SMUT, MENTION OF DADDY ISSUES

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

You and Felicia were at least 3 strawberry daiquiris deep, and they were working their tasty magic. You both were giggling loudly, slapping each other's thighs, trying to hold each other up on the couch you were lounging on in the common area when an unwelcome visitor made his way into the room.

"Well look who it is!" Felicia says in a goofy voice, making you nearly spit out your drink.

"PPPFFFFT", You let out a mixture of a guffaw and cough as she pounds your back with her palm in a drunken effort to help you regain composure.

Miguel's face softens a little bit at the sight of you two enjoying yourselves. Thank God for the cocktails otherwise you wouldn't have even let him be in the same room as you.

You look at Miguel with teary eyes. "Whaddup big guy? What, what can I do you for, on this....the night of the grand rose ceremony?" You channel your inner Godfather as you slur your words, which makes Felicia nearly choke on her drink this time.

Miguel shakes his head. "We need to talk."

"Ahhhh...." you say, shaking your head back at him, tutting your teeth. "Too late, Muscles. Can I call you Muscles?"

Miguel rubs the back of his neck and tries to stifle a sigh. "Sure, that's fine. Now can we go talk?"

"Whoa, whoa." You bring a finger to his lips, silencing him and he lets out a defeated sigh. "I won't leave here with just anyone. I'm in a relationship."

Miguel gently reaches down, removing your hand from his face in a delicate yet firm grip, "Yes, I'm aware..."

At that point you almost fall off the couch. Felicia's laughing too hard and trying not to pee in the fetal position to help. Miguel catches you, helping you up with both of his forearms underneath your armpits. You catch a whiff of his scent as you fall back against his chest, making you a little delirious.

"Be more careful..." Miguel murmurs to you. "Here." He plops you on an empty chair, his hands gentle as they run up your calves and remove your tall wedge sandals and takes them in his hand, offering you the other. Your heart skips a beat at his touch but you attempt to conceal it with an eyeroll as you let him help you stand up.

"Be right back girl!" You call to Felicia, who raises her cocktail glass to you.

"Mkayyyy!"

The beachy evening breeze of the nighttime hits your face a little bit, making you close your eyes and sigh. Despite all the drama that had been plaguing you as of late, it sure felt good to be in such a gorgeous place as this.

Miguel's walking silently next to you, his mind agonizing over the distressing news he needs to break to you but stops and stands next to you, his shoulders relaxing at little at your content disposition, how endearing it is to watch you wiggle your toes in the sand. A smile on your face for once instead of tears.

After several moments, your eyes flutter open and you go to take a step forward, however your abrupt movement doesn't mix well with the liquor still running in your veins and you trip a little, Miguel catching you once again.

"Alright, that's it..." Miguel sighs and sweeps you into a bridal style carry, effortlessly cradling you in those beefy arms of his as he walks you further down the beach.

You look at him with heavy eyelids, an expression of amusement and impression with his strength on your face. "Well damn, I knew you were strong, Muscles, but I wasn't expecting that," You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Just how many shots were in those daiquiris? Miguel wonders as he continues to saunter forwards with you in his arms, trying not to focus on the growing heat in his face as you nuzzle a little closer into his chest.

Once you come closer to an unoccupied daybed near the pool, you give him a little tap on his arm to signal you want to be put down. He sets you carefully on the cushions and plops down next to you in silence, pressing his fingertips together in concentration as he looks at his feet, trying to form his words.

You look lazily at the changing underwater lights in the pool, as it hypnotically changes the water from green, to blue, purple, pink, and red, tropical winds gently brushing the palm trees and the distant sound of rushing waves coming from the beach down below.

Miguel finally speaks, his tone serious. "I don't want to do this, but there's something important you should know before the rose ceremony."

You blow air out of your cheeks, the liquor still had a hold on you but you were starting to get annoyed by this unwelcome interruption by this...guy. Whoever he was, he was majorly cramping your style and killing the good mood you were in.

"Look mister, if you're trying to get a rose and not go home, you're a little late for that," you say with a yawn, standing up.

Miguel stands up too, saying your name in a stern voice then cursing and turning around with his hands on his head muttering to himself. "She's way too drunk for this...okay."

He turns back around facing you, starting over from scratch again. "I'm not trying to get a rose from you." He says, looking into your eyes. "I'm not expecting anything from you tonight. You made it very clear earlier that you were upset with me, which I don't blame you for... even though someone completely got it wrong and told you before I could explain myself..."

You let out a loud groan, clasping your temples with your fingertips. "Give me the condensed version, Muscles, please. You're giving me a migraine."

Miguel exhales quickly with a small scoff then shakes his head. "Okay, okay..." He makes a small sigh of displeasure and continues, slowly as if he were approaching a sea of eggshells.

"I...just need to get this off my chest and tell you the truth so you don't make the wrong choice tonight, that's all." His hands move to the surrender position and you tilt your head.

"What do you mean?"

Miguel exhales slowly as the camera zooms in on his face, his heart pounding so tremendously against his ribs it was a wonder how the sound didn't leak through the microphone he was wearing.

"After you and Felicia left, Peter B., Dana, Ben, and I were at the bonfire. They were all drinking. I got up, and went to the bathroom and was walking down the main path back to the fire pit. You know where I'm talking about right?"

You nod, going to fiddle with a loose thread on your dress, a slight anxious twinge in your belly that sets your heartbeat on a gradual acceleration. Where is this going?

"Anyway, I saw Peter B. and Dana in the bushes tonight...they were together."

You blink.

Miguel looks at you with the same blank expression, but he's in disbelief at your lack of reaction.

"He was going down on her... he's playing you behind your back." He waits, his eyes searching yours, hoping you got the message, on the edge of his seat.

Your eyes flicker up and look back into his. "And I should believe you...why?"

Miguel's face turns red with emotion, taking a step closer to you. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

His tone is quiet, but it's laced with frustration. "Look, you have to make this call on your own but I'm telling you right now. I saw him with her, he's cheating on you. He's not the guy you think he is and frankly, giving him a rose tonight would be the biggest mistake of your life."

"Miguel..." you whisper closing your eyes.

Miguel exhales, the alcohol released its hold on you a little. "There, see...you do understand me." He gets a little closer. "I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Yeah, and you also told me you didn't like Dana yet somehow she ended up all over you in the pool right after I told you I'm going to stay with Peter."

"Oh my God..." Miguel shuts his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "For the last time, I'm not interested in her. She threw herself at me...I don't know who told you otherwise but whoever did got it completely wrong. I swear to you."

"You're saying Ben's a liar?"

"Ben?!" Miguel goes silent as he tries to do calculations in his head, but you already start walking away.

"Okay, I don't know why Ben of all people is telling you that, but he's wrong." Miguel speeds up, walking backwards quickly next to you, still facing you. The camera man once again struggling to keep up with you two.

"I don't like Dana and I've been trying to tell you that. And I'm trying to tell you right now, Peter's not right for you."

"Uh huh, and you also told me that I'm the one in Thailand and proceeded to run over my heart the next day."

"Wait! Ugh....please!"

You stand at the tiki bar on the beach, grabbing the bartender, James' attention. "Strawberry daiquiri please..."

James nods and lowers his head, trying to mix you a drink but can't help but remained tuned in as he works.

Miguel sighs and sits on one of the bar stools. He addresses James. "A beer when you get a chance please? Thank you..."

You two sit in silence for a moment. He speaks again, his voice more quiet. "I needed to tell you because I'm going home tonight."

You look at him, confused. "Why do you say that?"

He sighs. "Nobody here to give me a rose. And it's ladies choice."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious."

"What about Dana?"

"If Dana gives me a rose I'm only accepting it so I can stay here and keep an eye on you."

"Miguel, I can handle myself just fine."

"No, you can't. You keep falling for the wrong guys and you're about to make a mistake."

"You were one of them."

Miguel blinks a little rapidly and looks off, trying to act like that didn't sting. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the upset rising in his body, blaming the alcohol in your system and your stress for your scathing remarks.

"I don't know if this is a weird jealousy thing, or you're trying to get back at me, or..." You continue, counting off your fingers as you speak, making some sort of drunken list.

"I'm not jealous." Miguel mumbles, picking at a random notch in the wooden bar.

"I'm gonna just pretend like you literally didn't just lie to me again," you say, also turning away.

"What? Ohhh my God." Miguel takes a deep breath. "Okay, yes, of course I'm jealous of you and Peter. Watching you guys kiss and go on dates. How seemingly happy he makes you when I know I couldn't make you feel like that? Yeah, of fucking course I'm jealous. It hurts."

The corner of your eyes soften a little bit. "Why now though, Miggy? Why do you only chase me after you've hurt me and after I'm trying to move on?"

"I don't know..." Miguel says quietly, rubbing his face. "Because I'm a dumbass? Because I had shitty judgement and I took you for granted. Because I didn't realize how much it would actually hurt to go through everything I put you through this last year?"

You look down, trying to hold in your tears.

Miguel gives you a sorrowful look, "Look... I'm only being stubborn right now because I see myself in you. You're about to make the same mistake I did and choose the wrong person like I did. I don't want you to walk away from this with any regret that'll come back to haunt you later..."

He pauses, running a hand through his hair and looking into your eyes. "And no, I don't expect you to come running back to me after this. No matter how badly I want you to..."

After letting one tear escape, you blink furiously, wiping your eyes, taking care not to ruin your eye makeup any more than it already is. You sit with his words for a while, letting them sink in.

Part of you doesn't feel great hearing that, but a larger part doesn't believe him. No, Peter wouldn't do something like that? Sweet Peter? And with Dana of all people? He clearly dodged her when everyone was in the pool together. There's no way...

Somehow you know you're being overly optimistic, but you decide to tuck it away for now, since there were more pressing matters like the impending rose ceremony which was due to commence at any moment at this late hour.

"Thank you for telling me. But let me handle it on my own. I made tons of allowances for you, Miguel. And I'm going to do the same for him. But if it turns out to be true? I'll deal with it when I deal with it. Have a safe trip home, Miguel."

At that moment, Jason Donner comes around the corner. "There you two are... we're all waiting on you. Cocktail hour's been over for 20 minutes. It's time to head on up to the rose ceremony. You okay?"

Jason tilts his head when he sees your obvious upset on your face.

"Yeah, I'm good." You mumble, quickly shifting past Jason's curious expression, forgetting the daiquiri you were waiting on, Miguel watching you walk away yet again with a solemn face and his heart split in two.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The group is hanging out outside of the rose ceremony room. Ben and Felicia are talking in hushed voices with Felicia every so often leaning her head towards Dana and Peter B., attempting to eavesdrop their conversation as Dana talks his ear off.

Peter is hardly reacting to her and looks rather nauseous, looking around with glazed, sullen eyes avoiding Felicia's suspicious, piercing gaze, his quickly-sobering thoughts making him slowly realize the gravity of the sin he just committed earlier.

You walk up to Peter, your eyes narrowing and your stomach dropping a tiny bit when you see Dana is standing next to him.

"Oh hey!" Dana says with phony niceness. "Peter and I were just talking about you. Have you been drinking? I can tell. God, that's embarrassing."

"Um, what?" You say, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh my God, I'm just kidding! I didn't mean it in a bad way. Peter was telling me how cute you look when you get all tipsy. Doesn't she look cute right now Peter? Oh my God, now she's getting embarrassed, awhhh that's adorable!"

You roll your eyes and put yourself physically in between him and Dana. Peter's eyes light up a little bit when he sees you, his hand reaching out to take yours and pull you closer, however his expression fades to slight worry when you whisper to him.

"I need to talk to you..."

Unfortunately, your words are cut off when one of the producers takes you by the shoulders. "Sorry, Pete, I'm gonna need to steal her. Hey, we need you to get lined up with the other women now."

You huff out a breath of frustration.

"Everything okay?" Peter asks quietly. You just nod curtly and give his hand a squeeze then allow the producer to usher you away.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The five men are standing in the middle of the common room, the dim lights cast an aura of seriousness. All the men are cleaned up wearing mostly nicer button down shirts, pants, and shorts. Sunkissed faces painted in a stoic expression with quiet nervousness rippling underneath.

All of their faces light up when the four women walk in: You, Felicia, Dana, and MJ, all dressed in different flowy dresses that make you all look like beachy queens of the night. You exhale and look at Peter B., who gives you a small smile, his hands balled into nervous fists in his pockets. Miguel is looking at you too with a neutral expression on his face, his jaw tensing as he looks down.

Dana smiles at Peter B., who quickly moves his eyes away from her back onto you, trying not to be obvious. Immediate guilt and regret eating him from the inside out. George and Patrick, aka Web-Slinger, stand there with relaxed looks on their faces, seemingly unphased by the tension hanging in the air. Ben gives a small wink to Felicia who beams in return.

Jason Donner enters the room. "Welcome, everyone to another rose ceremony. Now, as you all now, it's ladies choice this week. There are five men remaining, but with only four roses to be handed out, so, gentlemen, one of you will leaving paradise tonight."

The five men quietly nod their heads in acknowledgement and Jason turns to MJ. "MJ, whenever you're ready, you'll start."

MJ nods and steps forward, clad in a tight red dress with a curly ponytail. She picks up the first rose boutonniere laying in the tiny pile on top of a small wooden stand. A somber tune begins to play as she takes the rose in her hands. Her eyes land on Peter B. for a brief moment, her face still deadpan, but then she looks at George with a smile.

"George?"

George breaks out into a cocky grin and he steps forward, standing in front of her.

"George, will you accept this rose?"

"Course..." He grins as she pins it to his breast pocket of his blue button down shirt. Peter B. exhales and looks away as this happens. You notice and your lips part a little bit, a slightly odd feeling announcing itself in your gut that you try to press down.

Felicia goes next, taking the rose in her hands, wearing a black halter top dress tonight and she doesn't hesitate for one moment. "Ben?"

Ben walks forward, a shy grin on his face.

"Ben, will you accept my rose?"

"Always." He whispers, as she pins the rose to his Hawaiian shirt with a giddy smile.

Your turn next. You step forward, still wearing the light blue kimono style dress from your date with Peter B. earlier. One of your shaky hands takes the second to last rose and you look up, your eyes finding Peter B. first. He flashes you a smile in return, giving you a hopeful look.

Miguel is looking at you too, he takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, his head leaning back towards the ceiling. He knows he's not getting your rose tonight, he's just preparing himself for the gut punch of hearing you choose someone else, and falling for Peter B.'s false act.

Somehow, saying his name doesn't feel as right as you thought it would.

"Peter..."

Peter nods and walks forward with a smile, pulling the breast pocket of his white button down shirt forward for you to pin the rose.

"I just want you to know, this isn't just a rose to me. I take it really seriously..." You whisper to him. Dana rolls her eyes and lets out a scoff. Your eyes shoot her a slightly peeved look. The others look around somewhat nervously. Miguel tries to crane his neck a little to try and make out your soft words.

Peter's smile falters and his eyes dart to the rest of the group for a moment before he looks down at you. He wipes a little bead of sweat that began to form on his forehead.

"Peter, is there anything going on that would make you feel like you cannot accept my rose?"

The silence lasts a little longer than you'd like it to but he finally answers,

"N-No...I'm here for you. I have genuine feelings for you and I want to see where this goes. I mean that wholeheartedly, baby..." He says in a soft voice.

You nod slowly, then pin the rose to his shirt and he steps back into his position among the rest of the men. Miguel closes his eyes. Felicia mouths to you,"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you later." You mouth back to her.

Jason Donner re-enters the room. "Gentlemen, it's the final rose tonight. Dana, whenever you're ready."

Dana steps forward, wearing an orange two piece dress. She looks between Web-Slinger who's relaxed and Miguel who still has his eyes closed. She pauses then finally calls out a name.

"Miguel."

Miguel opens his eyes a little puzzled but steps forward, straightening his black polo.

"Will you accept..." Dana starts but is cut off by Miguel waving one of his hands.

"I'm sorry, but if I accept your rose I'd only be staying here for someone I'm still in love with." He looks over at you who's just as shocked and confused as the rest of the group.

Dana huffs quietly and looks down at the floor for a moment, placing the rose back on the stand. Jason Donner enters, "Dana? What's the hold up?"

Dana shakes her head. "He can't accept it. He's still here for..." Dana clears her throat as though your name was physically revolting to say.

Jason looks at Miguel. "Miguel, are you sure about this?"

He nods solemnly in response, not tearing his gaze from you.

Jason nods and says, "Well, Patrick, Miguel, since there isn't any more roses being handed out tonight, I'm so sorry, but you both are going home. Take a moment, say your goodbyes."

Web-Slinger aka Patrick, pulls George into a bro hug. He was kind of there to just party anyway, no sweat off his back.

Miguel gives a goodbye to George and Ben, but when it came to Peter B. he gave him the cold shoulder, pointing an accusatory finger,

"Don't fucking pull any shit like that again. If I find out you hurt her again, I'll deal with you personally."

"Wha-?" the others react to the abrupt switch up, the mood turning into hostile energy. Peter's face turns bright red.

"What's he talking about?" Felicia asks out loud as Miguel starts to make his way to the exit.

"Miguel, what do you mean by that?" Felicia asks again louder this time, concern in her voice.

You look down at the floor. Miguel says in a sarcastic tone, "Ask Peter, he can tell you."

"Miguel, I have no clue what you're talking about." Peter speaks up, standing up a little straighter in false confidence, deciding to play it cool.

Miguel hisses in annoyance and points at Dana. "Ask your new little friend, you two seemed to be getting close enough."

Dana points at herself, seemingly gobsmacked, "Me?!"

"Yes, you." Miguel says crossly. "Tell the truth, Dana. Tell the truth that you and Peter were hooking up in the bushes tonight, and that you threw yourself on me in the pool, completely unprovoked, and I didn't come onto you like everyone here believes."

Dana turns red with anger, and everyone else's mouths fall open. She tries to speak but just babbles incoherently. Your eyes narrow, a sick feeling pooling in your stomach.

"Now hold on..." Ben steps forward. "I was the one who saw Miguel and Dana in the pool earlier. I clearly saw both of you all over each other. Dana was holding him around the waist like this-" Ben awkwardly lifts his leg in some kind of demonstration, straddling an invisible man. "...and Miguel, you had your hands on her waist. I saw it when I went back for my towel."

"Well, check your facts again." Miguel says in an annoyed tone. "She jumped on me. I was minding my own business tanning on the inflatable."

"But why was it only after all of us left?" Ben asks, his eyebrows raising. "Same thing with Peter and Dana. Somehow all of these things are happening with nobody around and it's your word against everyone else's."

"Well why should we believe you about Dana and I?" Miguel shoots back at Ben.

Ben's eyes widen as he gestures to himself. "I have absolutely no reason to lie. But you do." He points to Miguel. "You're not over her and you know it." He nods in your direction. "You're trying to sabotage Peter's relationship, but yet you're trying to have it both ways with Dana too."

Miguel scoffs and laughs, but there's zero humor to be found in it. "Are you serious, Ben?"

"Miguel, I think you need to just worry about your own relationships right now." Peter B. says, taking a step towards Miguel. "You didn't get a rose tonight. Just take back what you said and exit peacefully and we can all forget this ever happened."

Miguel's eyes flash with anger, "I'm not going anywhere yet because I refuse to be made out to be some liar when I'm not!"

George steps in this time, "Hold on, let the man speak." He gestures in Miguel's direction.

Miguel takes a huge breath of relief. Even though George could be a douche, at least someone here was willing to hear him out, although it may have been mostly motivated by the fact that George didn't care much for Peter B. anyway.

"How about you stay out of this one, George?" Peter snarls, turning on him.

George smirks, the tension between them had been built up for weeks due to the jealousy over MJ.

"Oh yeah, and just what are you gonna do about it?"

"Guys!" Ben gets in between George and Peter, nearly tripping over backwards into George when Peter keeps surging forward, knocking Ben off his balance.

Miguel tries to insert himself between the two men as well and remove Ben, however Peter gives him a sharp shove, knocking him backwards, "Get back!"

Miguel's face flushes red with fury, taking a step towards Peter, however George beat him to it, shoving Peter, then causing Peter to lunge forward , only to be abruptly stopped by several security guards rushing the scene to restrain the heated men from ripping each other apart. Everyone is panicking now with several people from both on and off set running around, all this pent up drama and frustration nearly coming to a boiling point. The women scurry out of the fray.

"Hold on!" You yell at the top of your lungs, turning to Dana this time. "There's two sides to every story. So, is it true?" You ask, your voice slightly shaky. "Did you and Peter hook up?"

Dana's eyes narrow at you, "I don't see why it's any of your business?"

"Umm, considering the fact I'm dating him, I would say it is. It's a simple question, yes or no, Dana." You say, crossing your arms.

Dana scoffs. "I don't answer to people who don't know how to address me in the right tone, first of all. And I don't need to apologize or admit to anything when I haven't even done anything wrong."

You and Felicia look at each other with bizarre looks.

"Besides, if I wanted your man, I could have him." Dana taunts.

You throw your head back with an unamused cackle. "Puuuhlease! If you can take my man, then he's not my man. You can take my problems, not my man let's get that straightened out right now."

Dana throws her head back with an over exaggerated mocking laugh. You look at her with disgust.

"What is your fucking problem? I have seriously tried to be nice to you SO many times, Dana. You never apologized or owned up to your behavior."

"Oh like what, what did I do that was so bad, honey, tell me?" Dana bats her eyes sarcastically.

"Brag about wanting to fuck Gabriel, bullying the other girls in the house. Talking so much shit about me behind my back. You literally said the only way I could've gotten in the final two is if I slept my way to the top, and you slut shamed me, saying I was some type of hoe you'd find at a gas station."

Dana blinks. "I don't remember that."

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

A clip plays flashing backwards to Miguel's season, of Dana sitting begrudgingly in her camera confessional shortly after you won a group date rose during week 2.

A producer from behind the camera asks Dana, "So, what are your thoughts on her winning the group date rose?"

She scoffs and shakes her head. "I don't have any. Girls like her can't make guys fall in love with them. Like, I think she'd have to sleep her way to the top to even make the final two...I-what?! Sorry...it's true... Like it's all in the way you carry yourself and she carries herself like...I don't wanna be rude but, a slut. I mean, just look at the way she talks and dresses!! It's giving...gas station prostitute."

She giggles furiously, laughing off the producer's playful scolding in response. "Oh please...I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay?! I'm just being real. Just uh...just edit that one out." She shrugs and smirks.

🌹🌹Back to the present🌹🌹

Dana blinks innocently again, "I don't remember saying that. I might have said something to that effect but those weren't my exact words."

"Dana! Nobody on this beach even fucking likes you!" Felicia yells, her blue eyes aflame with frustration.

"Well sweetheart, I didn't come here to be liked, I came here to win." Dana replies in a honeyed tone.

"We've given you SO many chances to try and be friends with us and you act like you're better than everyone else here. You have zero respect for any of the women on this beach and throw yourself at all the guys. So just admit it, you hooked up with Peter. Be a big girl, put on your big girl panties, and OWN YOUR.SHIT!" Felicia claps in her face with every word.

Dana gets in Felicia's face, screaming back, "I do own my shit for your information. How about you take a chill pill and watch who the fuck you're talking to, bitch??"

"Hey!" Ben stops trying to play referee to the men and rushes over to Felicia's aid instead, the security guards too preoccupied with calming down an enraged George, Miguel, and Peter to jump in the brewing storm amongst the women.

"Leave her alone!" Ben hisses at Dana. But Felicia's getting worked up, trying to wriggle out of Ben's grasp.

"Bitch?! Who the fuck are you calling a bitch?!" She shrieks.

"You, bitch!" Dana says in a taunting, sing-song tone back.

"Dana, you're the last person to be calling anyone on this beach a bitch!" You speak up, putting yourself in between Ben, Felicia, and Dana.

"Yeah, um I wasn't talking to you honey. Mind your business, please and thank you, mkay? Thank you darling!" Dana replies in a snarky tone.

"Well I'm talking to you!" You answer, not taking your eyes off Dana. You can feel your blood pressure steadily rising. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you disrespect my friend. And, you didn't even answer my question, did you hook up with Peter?"

Dana rolls her eyes and turns around, "The ones with daddy issues are always the worst."

"EXCUSE ME?!" You charge forward, her low blow setting off a switch, making you see red. You were open about your family struggles on the show and never thought you'd see the day when someone would be cruel enough to use it as ammo against you.

"Get. Out. Of. My.Face," Dana spits, a thick, gooey drop of her saliva landing on your jaw.

You black out into a blind rage of fury, your right hand balled into a fist wound up behind you, knocking Dana on the left side of her face. You follow with your left, socking her in the jaw, then your right again, leaving her almost guaranteed with a fat lip.

"Fucking-BITCH!" Dana screams, grabbing your hair.

You fight to keep your head raised, using all the strength in your upper body as your hands seize her wrist that has a good hold on your hair, also using your knees to try and throw one into her torso to encourage her to let you go. You hit her with one of your knees, causing her to yell, making her loosen her grip a little so your hair is finally free. You get in one more good shot to her face before another security guard seizes you around the torso, picking you up and carrying you away off to the side.

Miguel's attention is shifted away from Peter and the security guards blocking him and he looks over to see you mid-fight, his eyes going wide when he sees Dana grabbing you by the hair and was running over to save you before the security guard beat him to it.

You're sobbing and shaking with leftover fury and frustration, your lip trembling, your hair and dress a little disheveled and a lightly sore scalp from where Dana grabbed you but otherwise unscathed. The security guard sets you down on an empty couch in the common area. Felicia bolts over to you, she can't help but smile a little with satisfaction but it turns to worry and comfort at the sight of your tears.

"Dude....you got her good...oh my God don't cry, don't cry..." She pulls you into a hug, rocking you. Miguel sits down next to you.

"Hey....hey....what happened? You okay? She put her hands on you? Are you hurt? What can I do, what's the matter?" He shoots out the questions a mile a minute, Felicia pulling away for a moment to wipe your tears. Miguel gently pulls up the straps of your swimsuit top you're wearing under your kimono style dress that threatened to fall down and expose yourself. Both of them diligently working to fix you up.

"She needs tissues, Miguel!" Felicia orders. "Get her some ice too."

Miguel nods. "Don't let her get up okay? You two stay right there!"

"I h-hate her...I hate her..." You sputter and lament. "How can someone be so rude and evil...m'm-s-soo sick of t-this...." You sob and tremble, holding your knees in a ball.

"She's gone." Felicia whispers.

"Yeah, she's gone. You don't have to worry about her anymore, sweetie. " Miguel soothes.

"Dude, you got her so good too, oh my God." Felicia mutters to you in a low voice, the sound of Dana whining and screaming at the security guards and crew coming from the other side of the room. "I didn't even know you could fight like that. She deserved that after pushing you that hard, I didn't know she'd go that far..."

"Yeah." Miguel agrees, letting out a soft chuckle. "You defended yourself, there's no need to be upset. She's gone, she's throwing a fit so I think they're gonna take her to the hospital just to get her checked out..." Miguel sits up, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of what's happening, then grabs tissues off the counter, handing them to Felicia. "I'll be back with the ice."

Felicia nods and starts gently dabbing your eyes as you blow your nose. Ben comes up and sits next to you and Felicia. "You okay there, cookie?" He asks you softly.

"She's okay, just shaken up." Felicia answers while you continue to take shallow breaths.

"M'....M'okay...." You breath out slowly.

"Ben get her some water. Miguel's gone to get her ice."

"I'm on it." Ben leaves, on his way to fetch you water.

"Thanks, bestie...I-I'm scared they're gonna send me home..." You mutter through your tear soaked voice.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," Felicia whispers, stroking your arm and pulling you into a hug. "Dude, fuck Dana...don't worry about her dude, you did nothing wrong. She started it by insulting you and spitting in your face. I saw the whole thing and I can vouch for you. I'm sure Miguel and Ben will too."

Miguel and Ben arrive. Ben hands you a glass of ice water with a curly straw and some freshly squeezed lemon in it. Miguel has an ice pack and your favorite blanket that he wraps around your shoulders, putting his arms around you while Felicia holds your hand.

Peter B. comes walking up to your group, his shirt unbuttoned, hair frazzled, and face disheveled from all the action. Miguel hisses and Ben jumps up, putting his hands on Peter's chest.

"Not now, man." Ben says quietly.

"I just wanna make sure she's okay. I just wanna make sure she's okay!" Peter protests, his face turning red again.

"Peter...fuck off!" You yell over them.

Peter freezes, looking at you sadly. "Baby, I..."

"Peter, beat it!" Felicia yells. "You've embarrassed her for the last time. You tripped and your face landed into some other girl's cunt tonight. You're done!!"

"I wanna hear it from her." Peter says firmly, a lump in his throat.

"Just leave me alone, Peter..." You softly whimper out. "I'm tired, and I'm done..you lied to me, you made me look fucking stupid, and I need space right now."

Peter goes to protest again but Ben shakes his head, "Bro...come on, man. Leave it alone."

Peter shoots a glare at Miguel, then gives you one more sad look before he sulks off, headed towards his room with a loud sigh of defeat.

You hear the ambulance sirens and get a glimpse of Dana being escorted by two security guards, her slightly limping. Her short hair was tousled with a giant puffy bottom lip that's turning red and slightly purple with a bruise, several tissues stuffed up her nostril for her bloody nose. You can't hear what she's saying but it sounds like she's running your name through the mud some more and berating the EMTs as they help her onto a stretcher.

Felicia squeezes your hand while she sits cuddled up against Ben. You rest your head against Miguel's chest as all of you sit on the couch together and stare off, the future of your paradise experience uncertain at this point after such a dramatic night.

The host, Jason Donner, speaks in a voiceover: "stay tuned for another drama-packed episode of Singles in Paradise!”

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Tags🖤: @miguelhugger2099 @kodo1221 @mimiemie @laysmt @cheerrioeoz , @spicydonut25 @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @famouscattale @thekidscallmebosss , @librababe99 @ce3stvu , @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood @mauvecherie-writes , @royale-skeleton-key , @thesilenthill , @dimitri-needs-therapy , @a-lil-whore @aisyakirmann @sylveon-of-heart , @hobiebrowns-wife @weirdothatwritess , @reader-1290 , @thesmutconnoisseur , @koyukilove

@hardlystrictlystarwars , @lareinamorgan , @serpentineaerodynamics

@envyjmoney , @clementines-valt , @the-pan-liquid

@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate , @cynwing

@ddreabea , @what-the-jams @loaves4me , @p1nkliquor , @mcmiracles , @tojishugetiddies , @1-800-choke-that-ho @idfciluvsmut

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #spotify #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #Spotify

293 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 10 months

Note

Hiii

I read the Miguel x Pete x sensitive reader one and from the title I thought it would be smutty, so.

Imma need a sensitive reader x Miguel x peter where the reader gets like overstimulated.

YESSS getting obsessed with these lil guys

summary : miguel and peter overstimulate you content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, harddom!miguel, softdom!peter, sub!reader, afab reader, oral (reader giving to miguel), pnv sex, overstimulation, toy usage (vibrator), no use of Y/N word count : 658 tag list : @fandom-ash

Too much, way too much, definitely too much. For hours, Peter and Miguel had been giving you orgasm after orgasm without ever letting you rest, and the sensations were absolutely overwhelming.

It was almost as if… your body was a snow globe being perpetually shaken, with thousands of sparkles waltzing around inside. Your whole interior possessed this blurred numb warmth, but which switched to sharp spikes of sensation as soon as it was touched, like a summer fog mixing with a sandstorm.

Your brain as well as your body couldn't take it anymore, and you wiggled, muttering exhaustedly against Miguel's cock. Your jaw ached slightly, Peter taking you from the back as Miguel's fingers laced through your hair, fucking your mouth relentlessly.

Your back arched as Peter turned on the vibrator again, pressing it against you as you tried to pull away, as if your own body were telling you that you had to back off. Your muffled moans reverberated against Miguel's handsome groan as Peter caressed your back.

The two had completely different rhythms, Miguel staying hard and going deep into your throat to make you cough. But your throat was so tight, so hot and wet, that he couldn't deny himself the urge to sink his whole length into your mouth, especially when you moaned and every vibration reverberated against his skin.

Peter, on the other hand, was far less brutal, maintaining a rhythm that wouldn't be unpleasant if your whole body wasn't asking you to collapse on the spot. But the tenderness with which he acted now masked very little of the pleasure he felt in making a simple gesture that had almost the effect of an electric shock on you: pressing the vibrator button against your clit.

You could feel another orgasm rising in your lower belly, amidst the meandering heat caused by all this sensation.

Your thighs trembled as he momentarily stopped again, and you tried your best to mumble against Miguel's skin, "Stop, please", which came out more like a "Fqob fweav."

Everything stung, and you squeezed your eyelids hard as Miguel pushed himself further down your throat, tears running down your cheeks and nose.

"It's a little hard to hear you with my dick in your mouth, you said you wanted Peter to turn the vibrator up more for you?" asked Miguel, in a tone bordering on cruelty.

The very idea of feeling the vibration of the toy made you wiggle your hips in an attempt to get as far away from the thought as possible.

"Come on bunny, we're not done with you yet. Just one more" encouraged Peter as he pressed the vibrator again, increasing the intensity as Miguel had addressed it.

You let out a moan that leaned towards complaint, a weakened whimper as the knot in your belly tightened.

You felt your orgasm take hold of you and your whole body was a kind of slow, warm, mushy heart, beating like something far away from the limits of your skin and yet so close to your core. You pulled your head back, letting yourself fall onto the mattress and letting the rest of your body fall apart as you became breathless and deeply disoriented.

"We warned you that we were going to give it to you tonight," Miguel breathed as he came to stroke your hair, running his thumb over your lips darkened by their previous positions. "What about a pause?" offered Peter, stroking your hip, "enough to let you…"

But you didn't hear the end of the sentence; you'd just passed out. When you woke up later, you were covered in clean clothes, under your comforter against Peter and Miguel.

You'd been so tired by all this that you simply couldn't stand it, and you were terribly sorry, apologizing to Miguel and Peter who immediately reassured you. You'd lasted much longer than usual this time, and they were so proud of you that multiple rewards followed.

877 notes · View notes

nouearth · 8 months

Text

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night.

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone.

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic.

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel.

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow.

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up.

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same.

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background.

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing.

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his.

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed.

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust.

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i—

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you—

—you need him.

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you.

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together.

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom.

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need.

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn.

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder.

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum.

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole.

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process.

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back.

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin.

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity.

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

1K notes · View notes

muchosbesitos · 8 months

Text

(i decided to mix these two together so i hope the individual anons don’t mind 😓)

el cocinero

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: reader’s white (miguel calls her guera), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, smut 🥸

author’s note: honestly had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you all enjoy <3

word count: 4.3K

You had the pleasure of meeting your boss, Miguel O'Hara, two weeks after you had joined the Spider Society on the day before Christmas. You had gotten up in the middle of the night after watching a recipe to make flan on your phone, wanting to try it out as soon as possible since your mouth couldn't help but water the more you thought about making it. Your footsteps echoed through the empty halls, given that most of the other spiders had gone to their respective universes to spend time with their family, and you headed towards the kitchen. You put on a apron and gave yourself a little pep talk that you wouldn't end up burning the kitchen down as you started collecting the items from the recipe.

You propped your phone up against the microwave and turned on the volume, assured by the fact that the chances of someone walking in were close to zero. You washed your hands and preheated the oven, listening to the woman explaining the steps in spanish. As you opened up the bag of sugar, a huge cloud puffed up and coated your face white, giving you a bad start already. You wiped away some of the sugar and started mixing the custard, feeling pretty good about your chances. However, after a little while you started to lose track of what the woman was saying, and you started to get upset that you didn't have the same results she did.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the smoke alarm blaring in the kitchen, reminding you that you had left the oven on. You quickly rushed to turn it off, coughing as you waved off a huge cloud of smoke. You sat down in front of the sink, trying to think about where you went wrong in your recipe before you discarded away the custard. You let the video continue playing, almost like a form of punishing yourself for getting the recipe wrong as the woman continued to explain how to get the perfect texture. You put your head in your hands, tears rolling down your cheeks as you thought about how stupid you were to think that you could do this.

Your head shot up when you heard the cafeteria door open, surprised to hear someone else up at this time. "Shock, it smells horrible in here," a male voice muttered and you quickly wiped away your tears to make out the figure criticizing your cooking. A tall man you didn't recognize walked in wearing a white tee and plaid sleeping pants, rubbing his eyes as he took the scene in front of him. "What were you trying to make?" he asked, looking over at your discarded custard in the sink as his nose scrunched from the remnants of the smoke. "Flan.."

"Ay, guera. ¿Porque haces esto si ni entiendes lo que esta diciendo?" He remarked, his eyes shifting over to the tutorial of the woman. (why do you do this if you don’t even know what she’s saying?) You wanted to tell him that you didn't fail because of your lack of understanding about the language, but rather because you just sucked in the kitchen. But you decided to keep your mouth quiet and nod along, not wanting to give away your cards just yet. "Alright, given the fact that it's Christmas, I'll help you out and whatnot. Only if you promise never to try this atrocity in my kitchen again," he offered, turning around to look at you. "Your kitchen?" You asked, a brow raised as you took in the man's appearance.

"Miguel O’Hara. Though I shouldn't need to tell you who I am since I'm the leader here. Nice to meet you though," he clarified, extending his hand out. Your eyes widened as you started piecing it together, but what you didn't understand why this 'cold' and 'unapproachable' man was offering to help you with something so stupid. You shook his hand and told him your name, his eyes lighting up in recognition. "Jessica recruited you, right? I meant to introduce myself earlier but I got busy, you know how it is. Is everything up to your liking so far?" He responds, though his tone sounded like he could care less if you were actually finding things okay here. "It's been good so far, everyone's really nice."

When he offered to help, you were expecting him to have a little more patience with teaching you. "That's not how you break the damn egg! You'll end up making a mess. A ver, let me do it," he grumbled after watching you struggle with an egg for the past two minutes. You scooted over and allowed for him to take the egg, the small thing almost disappearing in his hands. Despite all that, he seemed to handle the egg with some expert level of delicacy as he cracked it, pouring the yolk into the custard mix. Despite the woman talking in the background, the way he whispered to himself and mixed things made you believe that it was from memory.

The rest of the cooking session was spent in silence, though Miguel seemed to slow down his movements just so you'd see what was happening. You were a bit confused when you noticed him adding vanilla which wasn't in the recipe, your brows furrowing a bit as you leaned over the mixing bowl. "That wasn't in the recipe," you murmured, looking back over to the woman to confirm. "You're seriously gonna listen to the recipe over me? I mean, you don't even understand what she's saying," he responds, letting out an amused chuckle as he starts stirring the mix together. You felt yourself growing more and more annoyed at his assumption that you didn't understand anything that the woman was saying but you pursed your lips and simply watched him. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It just tastes better with the vanilla, trust me."

"Where'd you learn how to make this?" You asked curiously as his movements stopped and his shoulder tensed up. It was quiet for a moment, he looked like he was going through some stuff in his head before he cleared his throat. "It was my daughter's favorite pastry so I put my pride aside and asked my mom for the recipe," he responded hesitantly, like it pained him to talk about it. You figured he probably had some trauma stemming from his family issues so you decided to ask what you deemed safe. "Was? Did she move on to tres leches or something?" You pondered, his nose flaring as he started back up with his mixing. "I'm just here so you won't burn down the building, not here to be your friend."

You only spoke up once more after that and that was to thank him for the piece of flan as you sat down at one of the cafeteria tables. You'd expected it for it to be good with the way he dedicated himself into making it, but you weren't expecting for the flavors to melt in your tongue as soon as you took a bite. You'd had store bought flan before but they would never compare again to what Miguel had made, it wasn't too wet but it wasn't too dry either. Miguel finished up with cleaning up the kitchen and wiping away the surfaces before leaving, not bothering to give you a second glance. You were confused as to why he didn't bother having a slice of what he made but you didn't dwell too much on it and continued to eat the flan.

You were convinced that you'd ruined the possibility of developing a friendship with your boss, so you kept your head down and stuck beside Jessica in the missions during the following week. You were surprised to hear your watch buzz at the same time as last week, a message from Miguel calling you over to kitchen. You were reluctant to go since you felt like you'd touched on something painful to him, but you pushed those thoughts aside and headed to the cafeteria. You walked in to see that Miguel was preparing the kitchen and humming along to the cumbia playing on his phone. You tapped on his shoulder and he visibly startled, his shoulders tensing up before he turned around to look at you. "Sorry, I thought you would've sensed me coming in," you told him as his shoulders relax a bit at the realization that it was just you.

You were in the middle of putting on your apron when Miguel walked behind you, tying the strings together. How'd he managed to do that with his big ass hands baffled you, but you realized you couldn't say anything about since you weren't at the teasing point with him. "I’m sorry for the way I treated you last week, by the way. You touched on something I don't really like talking about but that's not an excuse," he told you, catching you off guard with his apology. "It's okay. I shouldn't have been so nosy about it," you reassured him, turning around to face him once he finished tying up your apron.

The two of you made arroz con leche that night and it was overall a pretty good cooking lesson given that things were less tense after he'd apologized. (rice pudding) He sat next to you in the cafeteria, talking to you about the anomaly he had to face today before he went quiet. You noticed that he seemed conflicted, but you didn't want to threaten your delicate friendship forming. "Gabriella wasn't my daughter, not technically. She's the daughter of a variant of myself and i took the role of being her father after hers died. She gave me a home when I really needed it but all I did was destroy hers," he spoke up, his voice coming out a bit shakier than he'd intended it to. You couldn't think of anything to really say to that, you felt like 'I'm sorry' was too cheap for what he was dealing with, so you pressed your hand on his shoulder and started rubbing small circles. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you Miguel."

The following week, Miguel decided on teaching you how to make chocolate chip cookies, something simple but delicious. As he mixed the batter, you couldn't help but notice how his brows furrowed in concentration, clearly still stressed from how the mission today had gone. You decided to help him de-stress by flicking a bit of powder on his face, watching as he blinked away the flour. "Did you ju-" he started off but was quickly interrupted as you blew a bunch of powder onto his face. "Pinche guera, you're gonna get it," he warned you and you took it as a signal to run away from him before you ended up doused in flour as well.

You miscalculated just how fast he was, given that he had you pinned against the wall in a matter of seconds. Your eyes widened as you saw you the bag of flour he had in his hand and the devilish smirk on his face. "Please, please. I'm sorry, I won't do that again," you pleaded with him, his finger coming up to push a strand of hair away. "Aw, you look so pretty when you beg, guerita," he cooed and you couldn't help but feel your cheeks flush up. "You really think so, Mig?" You teased him back despite how flustered you were at his words. Your breathing quickened up when he knelt down a little, his mouth barely brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Yeah, but you'd look so much prettier covered in flour." His words didn't register in your brain until he raised the bag of flour, dumping it over your head despite your protests.

Even though it had taken you half an hour to wash off all the flour from your hair, you couldn't help but lay down in your bed with a huge smile on your face that night. Miguel had grown from someone that you feared even coming in contact with after all the rumors you'd heard to someone you longed to spend every weekend with. Your happiness was quickly diminished as you thought what he would think about you knowing Spanish, if he would think that you were purposefully misdirecting him. After a while of thinking about all the outcomes from the reveal and none of them being positive, you decided to fall asleep and try to forget about it.

The two of you continued with your cooking sessions weekly after that, making it a part of your daily routine. He'd started to engage in your jokes and even adding to them, even going so far as to being more flirty with you, a much more relaxed version of himself than that he portrayed with everyone else at HQ. The two of you had agreed on making pasta this weekend and it was going pretty good, given that nothing had burnt down yet and the smell of oregano filled the kitchen. You were busy monitoring the pasta on the stove that you didn't notice Miguel had moved up behind you to check on the progress as well. Your chest brushed up against his as you turned around, his head dipping down to look at you as you did. Your eyes traveled from his eyes down to his lips and you took notice of just how kissable they looked, how plump and inviting they seemed.

You leaned in slowly, giving Miguel the chance to back off if he wanted to but he simply put his hands on your hips to pull you closer as his lips collided against yours. The kiss was nothing short of sensual, it felt like all the pressure that'd been building up during these cooking sessions had finally been released into this. Your hands gripped onto his shirt as you pulled him closer, his tongue moving so perfectly against yours. You two were pulled out of your trance when the alarm behind you rang, alerting you that the pasta had finished cooking. You hesitantly pulled away, looking up to see that Miguel had a conflicted look on his face. "I shouldn't have done that, it was mistake. I'm sorry," was all that he told you before he shut down for the night and focused on the task in front of him.

Miguel avoided you like the plague after that, he didn't bother acknowledging you around HQ anymore and he always paired you with someone up for missions. You couldn't help but feel a combination of anger and hurt brewing up inside you the more time that he spent avoiding you. Hurt, that he'd dismissed one of the best kisses that you'd had as a 'mistake'. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Jessica walked up to you, talking to you in one of the few moments that she had free. "Girl, did you hear? Apparently Miguel got injured in his mission today," she confided in you, speaking in hushed whispers so the other spiders wouldn't overhear. "What happened?" You asked curiously, your heart aching a bit at the thought of him being hurt. "He's been acting off recently these past couple days, like something's troubling him."

You decided to try out the empanada recipe that Miguel had shared you in an earlier session to cheer him up since he'd confided in you that it was his favorite pastry. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride once you finished, given that they actually tasted pretty good and the kitchen was intact. You hesitated for a little bit once you got to his room, pacing in the hallway as you debated on leaving. You pushed those thoughts away and knocked on his door, biting down on your bottom lip as you waited for a response. Miguel came out with a bandaid over his nose and you couldn't help but let out a small giggle as you saw the Hello Kitty design. "Did you come here just of make fun of my bandaid?" His gruff voice interrupted you out of your thoughts and you pulled out the tupperware holding the empanadas. "I thought these might make you feel better."

"Wait, you actually made these?" He asked, clearly impressed as he took a bite out of one. "I did, yeah. Figured you might need them and I guess I also wanted to take the opportunity to tell you that we should stop our cooking sessions. They've been great and all, but seeing as how I can make stuff without burning the kitchen down, I don't need to bother you anymore," you told him and you had expected him to be more excited at the prospect of finally having the weekends to himself, but you were only met with him furrowing his brows. "Ay guerita. Nunca eras un molestia para mí. No tienes ni la menor idea de cuanto me atormentas durante el día. Cuánto pienso en poder besarte otra vez. Y lo peor es que ni me entiendes cuando te digo que estoy tan enamorado de ti," he told you, completely surprising you with this admission and you decided to take this opportunity to finally be open with him. (you were never a bother to me. you have no idea how much you torment me during the day. how much i think about kissing you again. and the worst thing is that you don’t even understand when i tell how you how much i love you)

"Si te entiendo, Miguel. Tu eres lo que traigo en el pensamiento todos los dias, hasta cuando duermo. Yo tambien estoy tan enamorada contigo," you responded, watching as his eyebrows flew to his hairline, clearly surprised at hearing you speak so fluently. (i do understand you miguel. you are what i carry in my thoughts every day, even when i sleep. i’m so in love with you too) "I thought you didn't understand me.." He muttered, clearly taken back by what you'd just said. "No, you assumed that I didn't understand you when we first met. Which makes sense based on my appearance, I guess," you replied with a small shrug, taking a bite from one of the empanadas. "But how?" he pondered, looking over at you as he tried to piece it all together. "I'm a hyperpolyglot, Spanish’s just one of the languages I know."

"Dime otra vez," Miguel asked of you as you two laid in his bed together, his hand playing with your hair. (tell me again) "Estoy tan enamorada de ti Miguel," you whispered, your hand on his cheek as you kissed him. (i am so in love with you miguel.) Miguel quickly moved down in between your legs, taking off your pants in a swift motion and started kissing up your calves. "What about your injury?" you asked him, looking down at him as he planted open-mouthed kisses up your leg. "I'll be fine," he assured you, going back to what he was doing before. You felt your slick dripping down to your panties as he kissed on your thighs, purposely avoiding where you needed him most. Miguel let out a small chuckle as he saw the wet patch on your underwear, hooking his fingers on the waistband before sliding them down tentatively.

"Such a pretty pussy," he whispered, looking directly at your eyes as he started kissing your bikini area. His mouth eventually moved to your folds, collecting all the slick that had gathered up and let out a small moan in response. Your hands gripped tightly onto his hair as he started eating you out with a vigor that you'd never faced before, tasting you like you were water in the desert. The noises that were filling up the room were downright filthy, his name coming out your mouth in broken moans and the way that he slurped at your pussy, unable to get enough. He held your hips down as you started to squirm, your legs shaking from how good his tongue was making you feel. "Look at me while I please you," he told you in a such a sharp tone that you couldn't help but look down at him as he continued to eat you out, your eyes locking straight onto his.

He held down your legs with one hand and slowly plunged two fingers inside of you, feeling your cunt tighten up around them. His mouth connected to your clit as he started to suck on the neglected nub, his tongue flicking at it. He let out a small groan as your juices dribbled down his lips, the vibrations from it making your back arch up from the bed. "Right there, Miguel. Yes, making me feel so good!" you moaned out, not paying any regard that any spider could pass by and hear you. He curled his fingers upward, finding your g-spot within seconds and made it a point to hit it every time he plunged inside of you once again. He could tell by the way that your clit throbbed against his tongue and by the way that you were gripping his hair that you were close, his movements now more determined towards getting you towards that peak. Your cunt squeezed against his fingers as the coil inside of you unraveled, coming undone on his face.

You'd think that he enjoyed this more than you did, frankly, with the way that he licked his lips and the huge tent in his sweatpants. You let out a small gulp as you saw the outline of it, looking back up to see Miguel giving you a small smirk. "It's okay, baby. I'll ease you through it," he assured you as he started to take off his clothes. He moved on top of you, restraining himself from actually putting any weight on you, and started to kiss your neck. He nipped at your neck, leaving you with reddened marks that would affirm to everybody at the Society that you were all his. At least for an hour or two before you healed. He brought his mouth down to your breasts, trapping one of them onto his mouth as he started sucking on it, his calloused hands massaging the other one.

"Que tetas tan perfectas," he whispered against you as he continued to suck on your tit, his tongue rolling on your areola. (what perfect tits) You felt yourself clench around nothing, growing even more aroused as he continued his assault on your nipples. He started doing the same to the other one, switching places between his hand and mouth. Once he felt satisfied enough, he pulled away from you and stood on his knees. He slowly started to push his cock inside of you, your walls struggling to adjust to his size as you clenched against him. "Relax, baby. I got you, okay?" He assured you, rubbing small circles on your thighs as you nodded. You tried to focus more on your breathing rather than the huge cock almost splitting you in half and he was able to push more inside.

You let out a loud moan as he finally bottomed out, a thin layer of sweat building up on your forehead. It wasn't your first time by any means, but Miguel was just so big and so girthy that you needed some time to adjust. "Looks like cooking's not the only thing I need to walk you through, right nena?" He asked you with a small smirk on his face as he waited for the okay from you to start moving. You nodded once you felt the sting transform into a form a pleasure, needing to feel more from him. He slowly took his cock out before plunging it into you causing all the air to come out your lungs. He started off slow with his thrusts, not wanting to overwhelm you too much for the first time.

He put your legs on his shoulders, the new angle allowing him to push into you deeper and he couldn't help but feel proud at himself as he saw the tip of his cock bulging in your stomach. You honestly looked like an angel to him at the moment with your hair all splayed out across the pillow, your pale cheeks tinted pink, and your mouth parted in a 'o' to let out the most beautiful moans of his name. He started speeding up his thrusts when he saw that you were more comfortable with having him inside, your pussy clenching around his cock perfectly. "Oh God," you moaned out, completely blissed out by the feeling of his cock as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt every coherent thought disappear as he fucked you, too drunk off the way he was making you feel to say anything apart from his name. "Not God, Miguel," he teased you, leaning into trap your lips in a kiss which you welcomed with pleasure.

His fingers went down to your clit, rubbing precise circles on the nub despite the stuttering of his hips. "Need you to cum for me, guerita," he moaned out, watching your face contort into one of pure bliss. your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, coating Miguel’s cock completely as a white ring built up around the base. You clawed at the sheets as you felt Miguel continue abusing your pussy, clenching against him tightly like you wanted to milk his cock. He released his load inside of you a couple seconds later, overtaken by the way that your walls were clamping up against him. He watched as the cum started dribbling out of your cunt and decided on plugging it with his cock. He pulled out with a small hiss, seeing how your greedy cunt clenched up against nothing.

After he'd cleaned you off, he wrapped you up in his arms and started stroking your hair, not wanting you to leave just yet. You felt how much he loved you with this embrace and it felt nice after how long you'd spent questioning how he felt about you. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked you softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just thinking what you must be like in bed when you're not injured," you reply with a cheeky grin, causing him to let out a small chuckle. "Lucky for you, you have plenty of time to find that out."

550 notes · View notes