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#lyla x male reader
dj-spiderman · 11 months
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SPIDER-VERSE MASTERLIST
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COD account: @jimmy-j-james
I’m James or DJ. This is my separate account for spiderverse writing, which will likely be overrun by Miguel (bbg).
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REQUEST RULES:
REQUESTS ARE: OPEN
- female/feminine presenting DNI, this includes: she/her and she/they
- I will not write female!readers (she/her/she/they), nor purposefully write gender neutral!readers (they/them).
- I’m open to NSFW so long as the plot intrigues me or the kinks involved are something I’m comfortable with.
- I prefer non-NSFW over NSFW
- NSFW will have MDNI notice, but it’s more read at your own risk than anything.
- I will write angst (character death, fights, injuries > breakups, cheating)
- I will write gore, provided with the appropriate warnings.
- I will, obviously, write for Yandere/obsessive. (I’d prefer to write for Miguel and Lyla for these topics, but requesting anyone from my list is fine.)
- I will write polyamory, though my max will be three characters in a relationship.
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ARAÑITO
- The SERIES ; Miguel O’Hara & Child!reader
MIGUEL O’HARA (SPIDER-MAN 2099)
- DOTING DADDY SPIDERS ; M!reader (NSFW)
- I ONLY NEED YOU NEAR ; M!reader (Yandere)
PETER B. PARKER (SPIDER-MAN 616)
- YOU DESERVE A BREAK ; M!reader (fluff/comfort)
-
PATRICK O’HARA (WEBSLINGER)
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SPIDER NOIR (SPIDER-MAN 90214)
-
BEN REILLY (SCARLET-SPIDER)
- THE BETTER BROTHER ; Teen!reader (fluff + angst w/ comfort)
-
JONATHAN OHNN (THE SPOT)
-
LYLA (LYrate Lifeform Approximation)
- Lyla W/ M!reader Headcanons
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miguel-owhora · 4 months
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💗miguel i wish to milk you and put it in a milkshake and then drink it sir!
^^
Aka BimboSpider just somehow finds ‘milk’ on Miguel’s desk.. and decides to make a milkshake, Miguel is horrified AND turned on to find out she drank it and is heavily desiring more~
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— 18+ , implied cum eating , miguel being a freak , little drabble , implied himbo!mreader
— reminder that i only write 4 masc readers :) !
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sue miguel, he's a man of science and latches onto any scientific thought that crosses his mind, no matter how depraved. he's created a reputation that wards off people from getting too curious in his lab, even the younger spiders, those who are cocky and confident, know better than to mess with the different liquids and chemicals stored in his lab.
but the difference is that while they're confident and arrogant, they're not stupid. you, on the other hand, tch, miguel's not sure how you've managed to last this long. sure, you're good at being spider-man, he'll give you that. but outside of that? miguel finds you interesting in the sense that makes him wonder how someone so shocking stupid, managed to live this long.
you're dumb, and when you wander into his lab, he more or less entertains you whilst keeping an eye on you. he doesn't hate you, nor does he dislike you. you're... sweet. you're kind. he likes your company even if he never admits it, and sure, you stress him out with your lack of brain cells, but he likes your company.
still, he wasn't sure why he didn't keep an eye on you.
shock.
but maybe it's a good thing he didn't, as he wouldn't be given the opportunity to watch you drink the vanilla milkshake you made with his.. milk lying around in his lab. there's a warmth that grips him tightly, that makes his cheeks flare up in embarrassment and arousal, his cock throbbing as he watched you.
"that taste good?" miguel croaks out, watching you with dilated eyes and a hardening cock.
"mhm," you hum, pulling away from the straw and giving him a beaming smile, offering the creamy milkshake to him. "it's good! want some?"
miguel declines and opts to watch you drink it. it's depraved, it's sickening - it makes him wonder if you'd like the milk straight from the source...
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cosmosis · 11 months
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based on this image from @fr3akingtf0utrn
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - office life
how miguel o’hara slowly makes you fall for him check out my miguel o’hara masterlist here!
Miguel O’Hara doesn’t fall in love with just anyone.
But... every time he sees you around the office, his hands almost inch towards you like a moth would a light. Something ignites in him that he can’t explain, but he can’t help but want so much more of you. 
He likes to give you bagels and coffee during your breaks. (haha) Your work almost seems to magically disappear, and you’re a lot of the time left to finish up the easy stuff. Somehow, he’s even managed to sit with you for lunch, the rest of the spider-people in the cafeteria staring at the two of you while you eat. 
The entire building, all of the spider-people seem to know the happenings between you and Miguel, and they love it. It’s become somewhat a staple gossip within the workplace.  
Anyone bold enough would pass by Miguel in the hallways and say, “We’re rootin for you, boss!” In which Miguel wouldn’t know how to feel, whether it’d be angry or happy. 
As of now, the two of you have been flirting around, evidently more than just coworkers. He’s yours, and you are his. To you, though, he’s the absolute sweetest. He takes work off your plate, he’s kind, and he adores you. 
You’ve noticed Miguel getting a bit touchy lately, which you aren’t necessarily complaining about. Whether it’d be on your arm, a gentle hand on your neck to guide you through a crowd, or just being generally close to you, Miguel has been making his advances on you after Lyla spilled how it should be fine to do. 
His touch makes you shiver a little; he’s extra warm and so very gentle. You almost always lean into his touch, and Miguel loves it too, he just doesn’t admit it upfront. 
“You did great today, Miguel.“ You say. 
Both you and Miguel just headed back to Nueva York from a mission, taking out another stray anomaly that wouldn’t come without a fight.
 Miguel’s stomach flutters a little. Rarely, he ever gets praised by anyone. He’s the boss, the CEO; most of the time, he feels like it’s expected of him to do the best job. But, praise tastes much more sweeter when it comes from you. 
“You did well yourself, sweetie.“
Miguel’s mask dissolves away, leaving behind his pretty face. You don’t think you’d ever get tired of it. He gives you this look of adoration, one that the rest of the office has never, ever seen in person. 
You’re in Miguel’s office, well, more like your shared office. Miguel insisted that you’d move into his office, claiming, “I don’t want to go through the entire building just to find you for something.” which is code for, “I can’t live a day without being near you.” 
So now, you have your own desk and work area. You’re both alone, no one to bother, (except maybe Lyla, but she knows better.)
You’re at your desk, and Miguel steps up behind you. His big hand slithers to your lower back, running his fingers against the curve of your spine. He’s warm, you can still feel the heat radiating off of him from the previous mission. 
You feel him lean in, discreetly nosing his face into the top of your head. You lean in back, bumping your upper back into his chest. 
“Is this okay?“ Miguel mumbles, serious heat trailing up to his neck and ears. 
You nod. “Yes.”
And it was sealed from there. 
Now, Miguel rubs your back too often. His hand fits into place with your back like a puzzle piece, Miguel always finding some kind of way to lay his hand where it belongs. You love it. 
In the office? Yes.
During lunch? Yes.
Even on missions, he pulls you by your lower back to usher you away from a hit, and you both play around with that. He’s all fun and games when on missions, flirting, teasing, kissing. 
Now, it almost feels wrong when he isn’t touching you. 
. . .
“Hey, girl, look at this!“ 
Lyla pops in, automatically pulling up an internet article on your desk screen. It’s a web article; “The Science Behind Courtship in Male Spiders”
“Lyla, what does this have to do with anything?“ You ask.
Instead, she just scrolls into the article, highlighting a quote; male spiders give “back rubs” to seduce their mates. 
You raise your eyebrow. 
“You wanna know why Miguel’s been rubbing you so much? It’s cause of that!“ Lyla exclaims, as if she’s discovered this new scientific theory. 
“I guess you’re kinda right on that.“ You mutter. But, the more you start to think about it, the more it makes sense.  
Now every time Miguel palms your back, you think about the article. 
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© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
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messylustt · 11 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 2.7k words
fic masterlist previous part pt two next part
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learning spanish (I don’t speak spanish, so please correct me if I’m wrong with anything here); non detailed mentions of injuries; male masterbation — after a mission, a group of spider-people come back bruised and for the most part injured, all including a seemingly unbothered miguel. miguel offers a first spanish lesson, one that ends with the reminder of something in return—I wonder where your new home is…
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You hear the crash and commotion of a group arriving. You watched as medical spiders’ rushed towards the injured. They were all practically injured in some way. You quickly stood, making sure everything was out of the way, like rolled away chairs and random cords.
Your brows creased in concern as you spotted different spider-people holding their wounds, their suits ripped. You shift your gaze to the only one standing, appearing fine, besides his cut up suit and bloody face, bruises forming by his cheek. Before you know it, you're walking up to him. "O'hara."
He turns his head, his chest still breathing heavy. "You should sit." You suggest, watching as the rest of the group heads towards the large door, most likely heading to the medical room.
Miguel just walks past you, heading to the space you barely see him away from—by the big spider that teleports. You watch him walk, noticing the continuing tear of his suit, that gives you a good look at fractions of his bare muscled back.
You turn, quickly heading towards the exit, remembering something that might be helpful.
"Where are you going?" Miguel's sudden voice makes you slow as you briefly glance back. You catch his gaze. "You should be working." His general solemn expression is present, and oddly that makes you feel settled. Familiarity is always nice, especially after a clearly hard mission.
"I'll be back." You say quickly, before you rush out the door.
When you arrive back, Miguel is looking at his cuts, some clearly deeper than others. You tighten your hold on the large spider suit as you near him.
He instantly notices your presence, most likely a 'spider-sense' thing. His gaze shifts to the material in your grasp. "I know you'd rather someone else's help, but I know for a fact that we don't have spare spider suits, which is kind of stupid considering how dangerous your guys' job's are."
You near him, now noticing the way he's sitting, legs slightly spread, his body leant back in a swivel chair. And as you look closer, you realise that it's your swivel chair. You extend your hand with the suit, which he takes, eyeing the matching material and design of the worn-out one he has on now.
"I made a replica when I first arrived—when I was learning about how things worked here. Your suit is rather unique and I wanted a closer look. Not to mention that the design correlated to data I have saved on all of you."
Miguel raises a brow. "Data?"
"Lyla's data, to be exact. Since I'm working with her, she had to show me."
You watch as he runs the material between the pads of his fingers, his tongue coming out to lick his cut lip. A shiver runs down your spine as you notice his fangs. You'd noticed them before, but was never confident enough to ask him about them. No other spider-person had teeth like that.
You begin to step back. "Wear it if you want. I'm just heading to lunch."
And that was the nicest conversation you think you’ve had with Miguel. Mainly because you did all the talking.
Miguel watched you go, a nervousness very obvious to him practically flowing off you. Nerves he noticed heightened when you gave him the new suit.
He brings said suit into view, tilting his head in observation. He's thankful nobody was there to witness the small smile that had begun to edge his lips.
;;
"I'm sorry, when did you ever think that the patriarchy wasn't something terrible?" You ask Hobie, who had decided to join you for lunch. He had just showed you a new song on his guitar, the lyrics completely different from what you knew Hobie to be.
"Oh, society’s fucked. But I want to keep up an element of surprise." He says, continuously eating most of the food on your plate. "Can't stay predictable, now can I?"
You chuckle, slightly shaking your head, snatching some of the food out of his greedy hands. "Did you know what that mission was about, with all those injured spider-men?" You suddenly ask.
Hobie pauses, before shaking his head. "Though I did hear it got cleared from the database. Miguel asked Lyla to scrap it."
Your brows furrowed. "Why? I wasn't stationed for that mission, so, I was a little surprised to see the bloody fists and faces. Usually when Miguel leads a group things go so..."
"Smoothly?" Hobie fills in, to which you nod. "I don't know, mate. Maybe they lost, and poor Miguel's embarrassed."
Your lips curve up in a smile, as Hobie snickers at the thought.
"And weren't you just saying that you'd kiss my non-existent boots the other day?" Miguel's voice abruptly makes both you and Hobie swivel in your seats.
You instantly catch on to Miguel's clean suit. You hold back a smile threatening to surface at his semi acceptance of your help. Miguel notices your expression. "Don't take it personally, y/l/n."
You forming smile drops as you try to display indifference. "Did you need something, boss?" Hobie partially jokes.
"Not from you." Miguel looks back to you, before tilting his head to the side, silently asking you to follow him, as he turns and walks away.
Nerves crawl up your spine as you stand. You slide your plate closer to Hobie, as you speak. "Don't worry, you can finish it." Your sarcasm in your assurance is obvious, knowing he would have helped himself anyway.
Hobie places his hand over his heart, touched. "You're honestly an angel, y/n."
You scoff, quickly following the now disappeared Miguel.
When you near the tech and teleportation room—or in other words your office—you spot Miguel bringing up a second swivel chair to be placed beside yours.
When he catches your confused expression, he speaks, leaning back into the chair. "I have some spare time now for your first Spanish lesson. And Lyla is occupied, as of now."
You're quick to take a seat, a slight determined shine in your eyes that makes Miguel's throat tighten, which only sets a more prominent scowl on his face. "Te ves como una niña ansiosa mirando los regalos."
You blink, eyes narrowing as you try to decipher any of what he just said. "You look like an over eager child staring at presents." Miguel translates.
The shine in your eyes shifts to a glare of your gaze as you click your jaw. "As I said: I like this job."
"Mm." Miguel hums. "You've made that clear."
You lean back in your chair, trying to match his relaxed posture. "Can we start with something more simple?" You ask, wetting your slightly dry lips. Your nerves seem to do that to you.
"Don't worry, I don't think you're a genius or anything." His tone makes your nose twitch as you take a breath. You'd love to tell him how infuriating he can be.
"Repeat after me: Me llamo…" Miguel says.
"Me llamo."
Miguel is surprised by your rather accurate accent, his gaze shifting to your lips. "Me llamo y/n."
Your body becomes stiff as you hear your first name spill from his lips. You gulp, your throat now feeling dry. "Me llamo y/n."
"I'm sure you can guess what that means." Miguel says, his dry humour shining through.
"My name is y/n." You prove.
"Good." He says.
"Gracias." (Thank you.) You say the one word you do know, a hint of pride filling you as Miguel's eyes meet your own without the usual spite hidden behind.
"Since you know a basic word, let’s learn another." He rests his arm against the armrest, your eyes betraying you as they flicker to the tense of his muscles. "Por favor." (Please.)
"Por favor." You repeat.
Miguel's lips slightly curve up in a smirk. "You sound good being polite."
You narrow your eyes, before realising what 'por favor' means. "Please." You sigh.
Miguel's smirk hasn't dropped. To which you quickly speak. "Next word."
"Let's try a sentence using 'por favor'." He says. "¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?" (Can you help me, please?)
"¿Me puede ayu..." You drift off, unsure.
"Puede ayuder..." Miguel helps.
"¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?" You say, with a small smile.
"You're gonna be using that one a lot." Miguel says, licking his lips. What you don't know is that Miguel made you use the formal 'you', just adding more onto his layer of superiority. That's when you get reminded of his cut lip, which looks like it hasn't been tended to, most likely on his call.
"Are you sure you don't want to make sure that that doesn't get infected?" You ask, gesturing loosely to his bottom lip.
He raises his hand to it. "It's fine."
"Yeah, now it is." You say with a slight scoff. "It might not be—"
"It's fine, chaparrita."
"What does that mean?" You ask. "You've said it to me before."
Part—no, most—of Miguel doesn't want to tell you. Sure, he could play it off as an insult, but the way he can't help but let his tone drop to one of softness when he says it would give away the fact that he uses it as a form of endearment rather then one of hatred. He can't have you knowing that.
His silence makes you speak. "Fine, I'll just search it up then." You go to grab your phone—which sits rather far behind you—when he intercepts, using his web to snatch it up, pulling it back into his awaiting palm.
Miguel stands, taking the device with him. "Hey!" You call after him. "I need that."
"No you don't. Nothing of work importance is on here." Miguel calls back. You scoff, staring after him. Just as he's about to disappear through the exit he speaks. "Oh, and y/l/n?"
You wait in annoyance but also expectancy. "Don't forget you owe me something in return." Then he's gone, leaving you to lean into your chair, feeling heavy with all the different heights of nervousness you had just felt.
;;
It was dark, only a few spider-people wandering around headquarters. You’re preparing to teleport back to your universe, holding the wrist band you were given, when a certain voice stops you.
“Y/l/n.” You spin to see Miguel. You can’t help but let your gaze drop down his body. He wasn’t in his normal spider suit, wearing instead, grey sweatpants, and a loose (very large) shirt.
You had planned to say something, maybe ask what he wanted. But all you could muster was the open and close of your mouth.
You let your gaze shamefully drag back up to his face. His red eyes seemed to stand out more with the monotoned colours of his clothes. You gulp, refraining from shaking your head to clear your…interesting thoughts. You force a smile, maybe one too wide.
Miguel watches you, wishing he didn’t feel so amused by your confusing display of emotions.
You cough. “Did you need something, O’hara?”
He lets his gaze drift down your body, making you stiffen. And of course, he notices, holding down the curve of his lips. He wouldn’t smile in front of you. Though, he’s sure that self-made rule has already been broken by today’s Spanish lesson.
“Stay.” Miguel finally speaks, meeting your gaze.
“Stay?” You repeat.
“Mhm.” He hums, crossing his arms.
“What do you mean?”
Miguel raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “What do you think it means?” He asks dryly.
You narrow your eyes at his tone, running your tongue along your teeth. “I thought only spider-men and women can stay in headquarters?”
“I thought you wanted to do anything to prove your worth?”
Realisation hits you. “Oh, this is part of the deal? Your end?”
“In return for today’s lesson, yes.” He replies, walking closer to you.
He grabs your teleporting wristband, pocketing it in his sweatpants before he’s turning and heading towards a side door.
“Come on.” He orders.
You hurry your steps catching up to him.
Soon you’re beginning to walk up what looks to be the stairs to heaven. So. Many. Steps. You glance up at them, then shift your gaze to Miguel. “We’re walking all the way up there?”
“Feel free to web your way up instead.” The jabbing hasn’t left, which sets a small scowl on your face.
You wave your hands in the general direction of the higher steps. “You can do that, I’ll catch up.” You say as you begin to mount the stairs.
Miguel watches you for a second, pressing his lips together to hold back an unwanted laugh at the preparing deep breath you took.
He follows you up the stairs. You reach halfway when you realise he’s behind you. You spin, your chest slightly heaving. You’ve always felt jealous of all the spider variants’ fitness.
“Why aren’t you swinging?” You ask between breaths.
“Last I remember, you report to me, not the other way ‘round.” Miguel answers.
You scoff while trying to slow your breathing. “It was just a question.”
“Maybe we should switch lessons—do fitness instead of Spanish.” You watch as Miguel passes you, continuing up the stairs.
Your eyes are narrowed as your gaze follows him. “You’re funny.” You call after to his leaving form.
“No tan divertido como que estes sin aliento, chaparrita.” (Not as funny as you being breathless.) Miguel calls back.
“What?” You ask, breathlessly.
Miguel just chuckles. Your brain halts. Miguel just chuckled? Miguel seems to be thinking the same thing as his face returns, rather quickly, to its normal moody expression.
You’re both soon at the top, Miguel having reached it in a decent amount of time before you. Just as your bent of your knees, breathing heavy, Miguel turns, walking away again.
“O’hara.” You call, placing your hand over your rapidly beating heart. He doesn’t answer, continuing to walk.
“Miguel!”
At the mention of his first name he freezes. He doesn’t like the fact that his mouth goes dry, forcing him to gulp. He hasn’t liked the fact that you’ve made him ‘chuckle’, smile and actually forget about his morning’s mission.
“Your room is to the right. Be awake before six.” Miguel says monotonously, as he turns towards you, passing your now straightened body to assumably head to his own room.
You watch him go, your breathing slowing as a small frown forms. But it soon goes, grateful that this new room means O’hara is warming up to the fact of you staying.
;;
When Miguel reaches his room, he slams the door shut, some of the wall’s plaster crumbling off in sprinkles. He was mad. How dare you make him feel that many emotions in one day. One. Day. That’s all it took.
But what he hated more was the fact that underlying his anger towards you, was lust. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, your face and your voice was the thing that helped him late at night.
He hits back against the headboard of his bed, not caring about the creaks and groans of the wood. Because all he could think about was the way your chest looked heaving up and down. The way your mouth opened in pants.
He hated you. His hand slipped down to his pants, sinking into his sweatpants. He hated the way you smiled. His fingers wrapped around his hard on, beginning to stroke, his eyes shut as his head stayed pressed against the wall.
He hated the way you looked at him—big eyes staring with a mix of curiosity. His breathing began to hitch, as his pace quickened, a small groan falling from his lips. He hated the way you smelt—cherry following you everywhere you went. His hips began to thrust up into his palm.
He hated the way…
He hated…
“Coño...” (Fuck.) He whisper-hisses, his cock throbbing with the want to release.
His other hand gripped tight on his messy sheets, as he bites down on his lips, his eyes beginning to roll. His abs contract as his mouth hangs open in a pant. “Ay, dios.” (oh, god.)
Miguel O’hara hates the fact that only you can bring him to an orgasm that makes him desperate to feel another.
Fuck you—he thinks to himself. Fuck you, y/n.
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I’ll admit— I didn’t expect this to get so much love, thank you so so much all of you angels, MWAH
I promise more parts are to come!
also some words/how things work in the ‘spider-multiverse hero crew’ might be different then how you picture it—certain details I just made up, hope you all don’t mind
taglist: @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees
8K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 6 months
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Kinktober Day 28-Gynecologist!Miguel x Nervous!Reader (Teasing/Fingering)
*Requested by reader ;) Also, early update due to working both jobs tmw*
        It was that time of year again for you. It was always a nerve racking experience since you always worried about anything being wrong with you. After a long shower, you changed into a fresh pair of clothing, ready for your appointment. The fear of you smelling or sweating or anything for that matter made you nervous. It was just a regular checkup. Nothing changed from last year, so there was going to be nothing wrong.
        Besides, your friend, Lyla, worked at the gynecologist as an assistant. She always helped you calm down. Lyla even tried to set you up with one of her friends. A handsome man named, Miguel O'Hara. You had dated him a few times and found him very attractive. If only you weren't so timid. During those dates you barely uttered a word, just a small squeak here or there. You were honestly surprised that he even asked you out a few more times. 
        You were starting to get comfortable with him. Perhaps on your next date you could ask him about his job and his likes. Miguel was so kind. He was defiantly your type. You even thought about him at night. Gasping lowly, you slapped your cheeks. Now was not a good time to think about Miguel. It would be embarrassing to be wet for your checkup.
"(Y/n)~ Come on in!" Lyla chirped, motioning you inside.
        You took your regularly deep breathes, slowly following Lyla's lead. You friend gave you a quick hug before leading you into a private room. Lyla hummed as she closed the door and asked the routine questions.
"Alright, and did the front desk girl tell you about the new gyno? I hope so,"
"S-She did. I was okay with it being...a male," You whispered, trying to hide your stutter. Lyla just curled her lips into a smile,
"Don't worry, (Y/n)! You'll be perfectly fine! Anyway, how's it going with Miguel?" She asked, changing the topic. Your eyes lit up,
"T-Thank you again for giving me his n-number! He...He is really kind...and sweet. He doesn't r-rush me when I try...try to talk to him," You explained, "He doesn't mind me texting him....instead."
"I told you he was a good one!" Lyla grinned from ear to ear, "He likes you a lot too~"
"H-He does?!"
        Lyla chuckled at your flustered expression. Upon hearing a knock at the door, Lyla hummed as she got you ready. You were getting nervous again. She helped you relax before opening the door.
"Hello, Miss-(Y/n)??" Miguel paused as he stared at you. You squeaked in response before turning to Lyla.
"Oh, totally forgot to mention that Miguel is your new doctor~" She said with a wide grin, "Now I know I'm supposed to stay in here with you both, buuuuuut you guys know each other~ Bye!"
        Just like that, Lyla left both you and Miguel alone. Your face was a million shades of red as you tried to fit your gown, recalling that you were naked in front of the man you were dating. Miguel cleared his throat as he took a seat by the computer. He glanced over your files before turning towards you.
"This must be awkward," He started and read your body language, "Would you like your phone to text me?"
        You nodded violently in response. Miguel resisted a chuckle and went to your pile of clothes on the separate chair and looked for your phone. He glanced at your panties, restraining himself. He gave you the phone and grabbed his, waiting for your response. A smile on his face as he watched you. You were so cute. Someone worth his time. Someone worth his love. Miguel would do anything to keep you happy and relaxed.
'Did you know I was going to be your patient?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at the message,
"No, I just started here two days ago. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I can get another doctor." He replied. You hesitated before typing,
'No, it's okay. I was just surprised. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'
"Not at all," Miguel chuckled lowly and stood from his seat, "Just let me know when you want me to start. I'll take as much time as you need."
        Your eyes soften as you looked at Miguel. You remembered when you first met him. He was so tall and seemed so threatening. Putting your phone to the side, you played with your fingers as you took a deep breathe. You looked into Miguel's eyes and gave him a nod, allowing him to start.
        Miguel was slow and gentle. He asked you to raise your right arm before moving your gown. He watched your facial expressions, making sure that everything was okay. You whimpered quietly as his large hand took ahold of your breast, gently massaging it to check for any lumps. Normally, you would just tremble as the doctor checked you, but this was different. This was Miguel touching you. Something you only dreamed of. Not only was he making you shake from nervousness, but also giving you those dirty thoughts.
"All good on this side, now for the other." Miguel's hand gently trailed your back as he repeated the process on your other breast, "You're shaking, are you okay?"
"Y-Yes," You whispered lowly.
        You inhaled deeply as you tried not to focus on Miguel touching you. He was just doing his job. So what if his large hands felt good as they massaged your breasts. So what if he was more gentle with you than your previous doctors. So what if he smelled amazing? You were here for a check up, not to fantasize on him railing you. It wasn't like you were up for such a task anyway.
"Alright, you're all good there, no lumps. Now for the main part, just let me know when you're ready by propping your legs up for me, okay?" Miguel told you, rubbing your shoulder.
        God, he was so fine. You gave him a nod, watching as he got his gloves and tool ready. Now this, you were embarrassed about. You always hated this part. You could feel your heart about to leap out of your chest. Miguel was about to look at your pussy. You haven't even kissed the man yet and you were about to skip a bunch of steps. It was hard to think about his job now. All you could focus on was Miguel examining your wet pussy.
"U-Um," You gulped, reaching for your phone. Miguel handed it to you,
"Want some water?" He offered.
'No, I'm just...please be gentle with me. I know this is your job, but I can't help but feel even more nervous since we're dating.' You texted him. Miguel looked at his phone and chuckled lowly,
"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" He said, switching his glove, "I won't judge. How could I?" He gave you that sweet smile you loved.
        Nodding once more as he stole your breathe away, you got ready. You placed your feet in the little prompt set up they have and spread your legs. A shiver ran up your spine as the cold air hit your pussy. Miguel tighten his gloves and sat on his chair, rolling towards you. You bit your lower lip as he sat directly in front of your cunt, spreading your legs out even more. This was just a check up. Just a check up and nothing more.
        Miguel withheld a groan as he noticed your cunt already wet. Despite your nervousness, it seemed like you were practically excited for him to be looking at you, to be touching you. This was turning him on. Normally, Miguel would get these over with since every other girl would not hesitate to spread their legs for him. Miguel was loving this change of pace. He was loving everything you did. Miguel wanted to hear your voice. A voice only for his ears.
"Alright, let me know if anything feels uncomfortable. I'm just going to feel around for anything, okay?"
"O-Okay," You stuttered.
        Miguel had to bite his cheek. He proceeded to enter a finger inside you, with holding a groan at how tight you were. So wet and so tight, just for him. As he felt around your velvet walls for anything strange, Miguel could not help but hear a quiet whimper coming from you. He glanced at your expression, watching as you closed your eyes and biting your lower lip. God, Miguel was going to lose his patience with you. He knew that you were only like this because it was him. Lyla had told him about how difficult it was for other doctors to even touch your breasts. The fact that you were letting him do this was just so tempting.
"How are you doing?" Miguel asked. You gasped lowly as he pressed his finger up,
"F-Fine," You said, shaking from his touch.
        Miguel's finger was just exploring your insides for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't like he was actually fingering you. However, his finger was so thick and it was making you hot. You tried to think of something else, but the idea of Miguel doing more was turning you on. You whimpered lowly as you felt yourself clench against his finger. Why did these thoughts have to come now? Miguel was just doing his job and here you were getting horny.
"I'm going to insert the tool now. It will feel uncomfortable for only a second, okay?" He told you.
        You just nodded in response and followed his orders. Once he finished with the tool, Miguel approached you. He was so close. Miguel took his gloves off, bringing his hand to your cheek,
"You did so good for me. Are you okay?" He asked you. 
"Y-Yes," You told him and rubbed your legs slightly, "U-Um...S-Sorry...But...I..."
        Miguel raised a brow and read your body language. Your perky nipples and the juices that were streaming down your cunt were just all so tempting. He glanced into your eyes that screamed, 'fuck me'. Knowing that he couldn't or he would lose his job, Miguel inhaled deeply. He leaned down to peck your lips,
"Can I just say, that you are so goddamn tempting?" He whispered, enjoying your expressions, "I know what you want, and I can't give it to you here...But I can help release that tension."
"P-Please?" You nearly squeaked.
        Miguel nearly cussed. He returned to his chair, sitting directly in front of your poor, lonely cunt. He leaned forward and blew against it, watching you twitch. A smile formed against his lips as he entered two fingers this time. He stood up and pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face contort in pleasure. You were so tight for him. So needy. 
"I want to hear your voice later tonight, could you do that for me?" Miguel whispered in your ear as his fingers pumped into you.
"Hah...hah....Y-Yes....I can," You whimpered a soft moan, raising your hips slightly. 
        Miguel hummed happily and curled his fingers right at your sweet spot. Your body arched as you grinded your hips against his hand. Miguel quickly swallowed your moans with a kiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. As much as he wanted to hear those sweet moans, he knew that if he did, he would fuck you right here and now. Feeling your pussy tighten against his fingers, Miguel curled his fingers again. You held onto him as you reached your orgasm.
"That's it. That's my good girl," Miguel whispered, removing his fingers and licking them, "Taste so sweet. I'll have to reward you later,"
"M-Mig," You whispered, panting softly as you sat up. You reached for you phone, 'Want to come over to my place after work?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at his phone,
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He leaned down to kiss you again, "Get dressed. I'll see you later."
        You smiled softly as Miguel left. Quickly putting your clothes back on, you noticed that your panties were missing. Your face turned a million shades of red, knowing that Miguel must have swiped them. You whined softly before grabbing your phone.
'Please bring my panties back!'
'Sure, when I see you tonight.'
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l1tw1ck · 8 months
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Picking Up a Stray
bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader
🕷️ Word Count: 863 🕷️
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[Part Two] | AFAB Language Used
i just woke up from a very very very long sleep and wrote this within an hour, i proofread it but there's probably a few mistakes 😭
CW: Non-Con to Con, Vibrator, Public Sex, Squirting, Virginity Loss, Blood, Creampie, miguel has a rape kink
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Miguel’s doing errands with a vibrator lodged in his cunt and he's trying so hard to pretend like it doesn't feel good. Like he doesn't want to fall to the floor and let it do its thing, make him come and moan like the slut he is. He takes a shortcut to the last store on his list, determined to get this done. Lyla warns him that he won't make it but he doesn't listen. He turns the wrong way despite Lyla giving him directions, he’s distracted by the rapid buzzing in his pussy and mindlessly walks into a dead end. Nobody seems to come this way. He could rest here for a moment and no one would see him. Lyla tells him not to, she has the directions for the closest bathroom and urges him to hold out a bit longer. He can't. He falls to the ground along with his bags and gives in to the vibrator, even stroking his erect t-dick through his pants to expedite the process. He had no reason to though, as he squirts only moments later.
Lyla tells him he's no longer alone and his eyes shoot towards the exit. Fuck. He’s screwed (literally). You walk towards him and look down at him. "Today must be my lucky day." You whistle, grabbing his shirt and lifting him up. Miguel considers himself a pretty heavy guy, the fact that you can pick him up is terrifying.
"Leave me alone." He growls. He can’t feel Lyla anymore. He doesn't know what happened to her but he’s all alone now.
"Don’t act like you don't want this, kitty." You pull down his pants and then his panties, his slick is hesitant to part with the fabric, sticking to it almost like a spider web.
"I don't!" He yells. He tries to move around and fight you but to no avail. You’re determined to fuck him. You shove your fingers inside him, making him moan, and pull out the vibrator. You bring it to your face, taking in the smell before licking up all the slick it's collected. You drop it on the ground and free your hard cock with just one hand.
Miguel's breath hitches when he sees your length. It’s thick, veiny, and long. Screw what he said before. He wants this. He’s always had a fantasy like this, where he gets raped by some rando with a big dick. He never thought he'd actually want it. But maybe part of him did, maybe that's why he decided to use a vibrator today. He wanted the thrill, the possibility of getting caught and having to take responsibility for it.
Despite this revelation, he continues to act like he doesn't want it. He pretends to be angry as you push him against the wall and lift him into the air, his legs held up by your strong hands. He looks down and watches you rub your cock along his messy pussy, your precum drips down onto his womb, making him twitch.
"please.." He whimpers. "Please don't." He continues his facade, getting insanely turned on when he sees your reaction.
"Oh, kitty, even if you cry, I won't let you go. It’ll only make me want you more." You bring your tip to his entrance. He gulps. He's going to lose his virginity to a stranger in an alleyway. Why does he love that so much? You shove your length into him, making him throw his head back. He bites his lip, holding back his moans. You let out a curse. "You’re tight. So, so fucking tight.." You dig your nails into his flesh and start pounding into him. Miguel covers his mouth with his hands, tears starting to fall thanks to the pain of losing his virginity. He knows he's bleeding and he loves it. He's unbelievably horny right now.
You look down at where the two of you meet and notice a coat of cum and blood on your shaft. "This is your first time?" You ask, voice shaky. He nods, sniffling. "Shit." You fuck him even rougher, excited to be the one who took his virginity. Miguel can't help but come, squirting hard. "You like this, don't you?" You smirk, licking your lips. "It's okay, kitty, be honest." You pry his hands away.
Miguel whimpers. "I lo- love it~" He moans.
You chuckle. "Of course you do." You bring him into a kiss and despite his inexperience he happily reciprocates it. He feels your thrusts losing their rhythm, does that mean…? His pussy convulses around your length, excited to be filled up with your cum. The feeling of that quickly brings you to your orgasm.
You pull away from the kiss and look at his blissed out expression. "I don't typically take in strays but I'll make an exception for you." You pull out of him and put his clothes back on, forcing him to walk around with your cum inside him. Not that he doesn't want that. He looks at you as you grab his hand, he’s barely aware of what's happening. He lets you take him to your home, leaving his bags in the alleyway.
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miguelsslvt · 8 months
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miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble
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word count: 756
TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.
A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^
you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.
you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.
after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.
'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'
fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.
'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.
god, he could take you right there. so he did.
✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩
'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.
'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)
you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.
'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.
you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)
you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.
it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)
'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.
and that's miguel likes it messy.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎
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Use Your Words
Franchise: Marvel (Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse)
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x male reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: smut, sub!Miguel, dom!reader, office sex, door unlocked, loud Miguel, breeding kink, Miguel has a praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, anal fingering, reader referred to as sir, Miguel's claws, Miguel's fangs, minor degradation, minor angst (reader's been worried about Miguel), fluffy aftercare
Summary: Miguel had been teasing you all day, the little shit. You knew that he knew damn well what he was doing. And he knew exactly what would happen when you caught him alone that night.
A/N: Requested by an irl of mine @sixatrocities ! This is my first smut that I'm actually posting so bear with me (is it still considered a one shot when it's over 3k words??) also I myself do NOT speak Spanish (English, French and a bit of Italian but not Spanish) so most of what Miguel says is directly from Google Translate and I'm so sorry if I messed up - this was also written as though Miguel’s suit is like a physical one as opposed to what I assume is nanotech somehow in the movie
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You’re in a meeting with various other members of the Spider Society. This includes Jessica, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen, Peter and Mayday. And of course, you, Miguel and Lyla. You lean back in your chair at one end of the long table, farthest from where Miguel is at the other end. He’s mostly stopped his teasing, other than shooting you mischievous looks from across the table when no one’s paying attention.
“Any questions?” Miguel says finally, having finished his explanation about the next mission. You know he can feel your gaze burning into him, but he pointedly ignores it. No one says anything, clearly satisfied with the information given.
“Class dismissed,” you say sarcastically. Everyone begins to leave without a word. You turn your eyes on Miguel’s AI. “Lyla, take the night off,” you say. “I need to… discuss some things with Miguel. One on one.”
As Lyla blips out, Miguel swallows hard, finally looking up at you.
“You guys alright?” Peter asks on his way out.
“We’re fine, Pete,” you say, your gaze trained on Miguel’s. His eyes are dilated so much you can’t discern the black of his pupils from the brown of his irises as he scans your face. “Don’t worry about it. Have a goodnight, man, say hi to MJ for me.”
“…Alright,” he replies, though he sounds slightly unsure. “Say bye, Mayday.”
You turn to look at the young redhead, a sweet smile crossing your face as you wave to her. You nod to Peter as he slips out the door.
And then there were two.
“Y/N-”
“Miguel,” you say, your voice bordering on a warning. You slowly cross the room to where he’s standing at the wall. He begins to back away when you get too close, backing up so far that he ends up pressed between you and the wall. You place your palm flat on his broad chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips.
“What was that?”
“What, er, what was what?” He asks in a tight voice. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and back again.
“You know exactly what you were doing, O’Hara.”
Miguel’s breath hitches in his throat. “I’m-”
“We’ve talked about this, haven’t we?”
Miguel nods quickly. “Mhm.”
“So you know what comes next, then, hm?”
He nods again. “Mhm.”
“Your office,” you state. “Now.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
————————
You follow close behind Miguel as the two of you walk back to Miguel’s office. You say hello in passing to some of the people you pass, like Ben and Margo, prolonging how long Miguel has to wait for the consequences of his actions.
When you reach the office, Miguel moves to lock the door behind the two of you. You catch his wrist before he can touch the doorknob.
“No,” you say.
“But-”
“Miguel.”
“…Yes, sir.”
You gesture for him to go to his desk and you notice him shift his suit a little. You follow him to the desk. He turns around to say something, but you pin him between you and the desk before he can get a word out, his hands bracing himself on the edge of the surface. The proximity gives you both some friction between your respective suits. Miguel sucks in a breath when you grind against him, chewing on his bottom lip. You can see his sharp fangs outlined against his soft pink lip while he watches you carefully.
“You can’t be a tease in the middle of a meeting, baby,” you say in a low voice.
“I’m sorry,” Miguel says breathlessly.
“No you aren’t,” you murmur. “That was bad, Miguel.”
“I’ll be good,” he says desperately. “Por favor, señor, I’ll be good for you.”
You raise an eyebrow in challenge and feel him practically melt underneath you. “Take the suit off, sweetheart.” You step back to allow him to free himself from the confines of his suit. He’s soon left in his boxers, watching you for his next instructions.
“So handsome…” you whisper. You step towards him again, ghosting your fingers over his warm bare skin. He shivers under your touch. “Just begging to be fucked, aren’t you?” You hook a finger under the waistband of his underwear. A whine escapes his lips before he can stop it. “Use your words, baby boy.”
“Please,” he whimpers.
“Please what, Miguel?”
He squirms a little under your hand. “Please fuck me, I need you inside me…”
You guide him back to the desk, framing his body as he leans against it. You can feel his hard, clothed cock against your covered crotch. He tries to grind against you, desperate for a little more friction, but you gain bruising grip on his hips, holding him in place.
“I didn’t say you could move.”
“Por favor, señor, necesito tu polla dentro de mí,” Miguel begs.
“Patience, darling,” you say. You reach around Miguel’s broad frame and push everything off his desk. He looks like he’s about to object, his mouth opening to say something, but the look you give him tells him to keep it to himself. “We’ll fix it later,” you assure him quickly. His tense body relaxes a little.
In mere moments, you rid yourself of your own suit, reaching for the secret compartment of one of the drawers of Miguel’s desk. The two of you have fucked in his office on more than one occasion, so he keeps some condoms around just in case. As you move to withdraw one, Miguel’s thick fingers curl around your wrist. You look back at him.
“Miguel?” You say in a teasingly questioning tone.
“Just your cock,” he whispers. You drop the condom and close the drawer without looking away from him.
“You want me to breed you,” you say. Miguel chews on his lip nervously but he nods.
“Yes, fuck, please.”
“You love the idea of that, don’t you?” You mutter, leaning close to his face. “The thought of being fucked full of my cum to have my kids? Is that what you want?”
Miguel whimpers as you press yourself against him. “Y-Yes, sir…”
A smirk crosses your face. “Good boy.” Your hand moves upwards to thread your fingers into Miguel’s hair. You tug his head back and a gasp tumbles from his lips. Your lips attack his neck, sucking hickeys from the bottom of his jaw down to his collarbone. As you move further down, your lips attach to one of his nipples. A sharp whine escapes him, his body arching into you. He grips your shoulders.
“Fuck,” he whimpers.
One of your hands, the one that had been hooked under his waistband, slips into his boxers, gently grabbing his hard cock while your mouth stays on his chest.
“Ay, dios mío,” he moans. “Please, sir, fuck me, I need your cock so bad, please…!”
You tug his boxers down around his ankles, letting his dick spring free of its confines. Miguel kicks them away as you shed yours too. You stick three fingers in Miguel’s mouth.
“Suck,” you order. That skillful tongue of his swirls around your digits, watching you in desperation. You stroke your cock a few times while you watch Miguel. “Such a good boy for me, baby. So obedient.” You take your fingers away. “Lay back on the desk,” you tell him.
He shifts to sit on the edge of the desk, wincing at the feeling of the cold surface under his bare ass, then lays down on his back, his legs spreading automatically for you. You run one of your wet fingers around his puckered hole and he shivers. You push one finger into his entrance and Miguel moans loudly at the feeling, gripping the edge of the desk above his head.
“So tight for me, darling, so perfect,” you murmur. You pump your finger in and out of his hole, soon adding the second one. Miguel’s mouth falls open, his moans getting more and more high-pitched with your every move. You curl and scissor your fingers inside him and soon his legs are trembling on either side of you. “Can’t wait to breed this tight hole of yours, fuck…” You add your third finger and Miguel already looks like he could cum.
“You think you’re ready?” You ask him.
“Yes, fuck, yes.”
“Use your words, baby boy. Please what?”
Miguel whines as you withdraw your fingers. “Please breed me, I need it!”
You quickly grab a little bottle of lube from the desk drawer, coating your dick in the cold substance. You toss the bottle to the side when you’re finished with it. You place one of Miguel’s legs over your shoulder, lining your shaft up with his entrance.
You push in slowly, watching Miguel for any signs of discomfort. His sharp claws dig into your back. His eyes roll back and his lips part, letting out one of the most beautiful moans you’ve ever heard.
“Good boy, such a good boy, taking me so well,” you say, making sure every inch of you is inside his hole.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so big…”
“You can take it, I know you can,” you say as you bottom out. Miguel whimpers. You stay still for a few moments to let him adjust. When he looks up at you with red-tinted, lust filled eyes, you watch him.
“Move,” he whispers. “Please.”
“As you wish.”
You thrusts start slow, but once you start to see your dick bulging in his stomach, you increase your speed. Miguel’s loud moans fill the air, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin while you fuck into him. You rest your hand over his stomach bulge. “This what you wanted?” You ask. “Wanted me to fuck you like a needy little whore to be bred?” You thrust into him particularly roughly, eliciting another moan from him.
“S-Sí, señor- ah, fuck…!”
“You just wanna be filled up with my cum, don’t you? Wanna have my kids, huh?”
“Please, please, please,” Miguel begs breathlessly.
“This tight little ass of yours is gonna be my personal cum dump,” you state with a sharp snap of your hips. You can tell from the moan he releases and the way he grips your shoulders that you hit his prostate. “That feel good? You like it when I say I’m gonna fill you up?”
He almost looks like he’s in a haze as he reaches towards his cock. You slap his hand away. “No touching,” you growl, hitting his prostate again.
“P-Please, sir, I’m- I’m so close!”
“Oh yeah?” You taunt. “Gonna cum without your dick touched?” You emphasize each word with a sharp thrust.
“Señor, por favor, es demasiado!”
“Take it, you little slut,” you growl, gripping his hips in a way that’ll leave bruises. “Gonna fuck you so full of my cum, baby boy.”
“Please, please, I need to cum…!”
“Cum for me, Miguel,” you order, moving one of your hands to wrap around his cock.
It takes only one stroke from you and he’s screaming your name, cumming all over his chest and your hand. The feeling of his hole clenching around your cock almost sends you over the edge, but not yet. You work him through his orgasm, stroking his shaft as you milk him. Your hand doesn’t cease its movements after he’s finished. He begins to squirm underneath you.
“Señor,” he whines. “Es demasiado, I can’t take anymore!”
“You can and you will,” you state, once again increasing the speed of your thrusts. You can feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten.
“Señ- oh, mi maldito dios!” He exclaims when you swipe your thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock. “Santa mierda!”
“I’m close, baby, you’re doing so well for me,” you say in a low voice, fucking him with everything you’ve got. “You’re gonna take it all and you’re not gonna spill a drop, got that?”
“Sí, sí, sí- oh mierda… jodidamente arruinarme…!”
All you have left in you to say is growling out curses as you get yourself off with Miguel’s hole. Your hand is no longer on his cock, but bending his legs so his knees are up to his chest, giving you an even better angle at his prostate.
“Y/N, sir, please!” Miguel shouts. “Please, cum inside me, please…!”
With your hand on his stomach again, you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your thrusts falter. “Fuck, Miguel!” You yell, burying your cock to the hilt in his ass, cumming harder than you have in a while. You can feel Miguel squirming underneath you, his hole clenching around you as he cums again suddenly. He’s trembling beneath you. Your balls drain, your cum painting his insides white. You see a bulge in his stomach where your cum is and feel a sense of satisfaction. You stay inside him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of having bred him.
“Good boy,” you say in a low tone. “Gonna keep that all inside, sweet boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Miguel murmurs, looking thoroughly fucked out. His claws retract and his hands drop to his sides. Your shoulders burn where his claws had dug into your skin, but you’ve always loved getting to see the marks he leaves behind.
“Good boy, Miguel, so good for me.”
You lean down and press a deep kiss to his soft lips. Your tongue pokes into his mouth, feeling his fangs. You grin into the kiss. When you pull away, he takes your hand that had been jacking him off and licks off the excess cum that had been left when he had climaxed, and damn if it wasn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.
“Let’s go home and get you cleaned up, babe,” you say gently.
You carefully help Miguel to his feet, finding his boxers on the floor. You have to help him back into them, considering he can barely move or walk properly. You help him out his suit back on as well. He hisses at the feeling of his oversensitive cock rubbing against the fabric of his underwear. You tug on your boxers and your suit as well. You know you’ll have to wash or replace both of your suits, considering there’s likely cum all over the inside of Miguel’s now, but how else were the two of you supposed to talk back to your apartment? Naked?
As tempting as it is to show everyone that Miguel isn’t so scary under the right circumstances, you wouldn’t do that to him. Plus, you’d like to keep that sight for yourself.
You have to support Miguel as the two of you walk, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Anyone who questions his stiff movements look to you for an answer. “Rough mission,” you reply with a smirk.
————————
Miguel leans against the wall next the door to your shared apartment, waiting for you to dig out your key. You do about 75% of the Macarena to locate it, jamming it in the keyhole and letting the two of you in. You lock the door behind you when you’re both inside.
“How you feeling, hot stuff?” You tease gently, giving Miguel a once-over.
“Sticky,” he admits quietly.
You grimace. “Sorry. Shower?”
“Can’t stand properly,” he says, a tone of humour in his voice even though you can tell he’s still feeling pretty stiff.
“Bath?” You suggest. He nods tiredly.
Miguel uses the wall to hold himself up as the two of you make your way to the bathroom. You walk more quickly so as to get the water running. While the tap is on, the water warming up, you move to help Miguel get rid of his suit again. You set it by the door so you can remember to wash it later. You do the same with your own. As you help Miguel out of his boxers, he sucks in a breath through his teeth; his cock is still sensitive and you’d just accidentally brushed it with your hand.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, cupping his cheek with your hand.
“’S’alright,” he mumbles. He turns his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the heel of your hand. You smile at him, then finish helping him undress. You set his underwear aside with his suit, again doing the same with your own.
You lean forward and softly connect your lips with Miguel’s in a loving kiss.
“I love you,” you murmur.
“I love you too, mi vida.”
“In all seriousness, though, are you alright?”
“Soy perfecto, querido,” he says assuringly. “A little achy, maybe, but I’m alright.”
“If I ever go to far-”
“I’ll tell you. Promise.” He kisses you again.
The two of you slip into the warm water, Miguel resting between your legs and leaning his back against your chest. You press a kiss to the back of his ear and he hums contentedly.
“Comfortable?” You ask. Miguel nods.
You help him clean up the mess you’d both made, happy to feel him relax under your touch. He’s been tense all the time. Any moment of comfort and rest you can bring him, you’ll do it. As much as you love him, he’s been off for a while now, always tense and grumpy. Nothing you couldn’t handle, but it still worried you. He wasn’t always like this.
You had your suspicions as to why - or, rather, who - was making him feel like this, but you knew you shouldn’t mention her. She’d deny it a thousand times over, and you weren’t sure Miguel would believe you either.
“You’re safe, my love,” you say quietly, wrapping your arms around him.
“Thank you.” He pauses for a moment, then he tenses. “Oh, shit, my desk-”
“We’ll go back, it’s okay,” you answer quickly. You reach one hand up and run your fingers through his hair. His posture softens, leaning comfortably against your chest again. “We’ll clean up that mess after we’re done with this one. Okay?”
He nods slowly. “Okay.” His eyes close a little; he’s tired, and you know it. He’s been tired for a long time. 
“Tell you what,” you say. “I’d say we’re pretty much cleaned up, so how about we dry off and you curl up in bed, and I’ll go back and fix your desk.”
“But-”
“I know how you organize it,” you reassure him. “And I’ll swing there and back, so I won’t be gone long. Is that okay?” Miguel hesitates. “Baby, you need rest,” you remind him, gently rubbing his arm.
He sighs tiredly but he nods. You kiss the nape of his neck. He leans his head back to rest on your shoulder, looking at you with exhausted brown eyes.
“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease softly. He grins lazily.
“Hi.”
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aliorsboxostuff · 11 months
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A/N Honestly this is really self-indulgent ‘cuz my instincts went “This mf forgets to eat I just know it.” and turned it into a really fluffy fic lmao. I wrote this with a male Spiderman in mind, but gender-neutral readers are also welcome of course! Hope you all enjoyed it!
Lunch
Tags: Miguel O’hara x m!Reader, Possible gn!Reader, Peter B. Parker, Mayday Parker, mention of Gwen, Fluff, Just taking care our resident dilf, He/him prns, Spiderman!Reader, caring!reader, Emotionally constipated Miguel? Emotionally constipated Miguel., Peter being the best wingman, Mayday being her cute self, Self-indulgent
Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. So what do you do? Exactly, force him into taking a break… Sorta.
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Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. Only when his body is finally demanding food does he leave the monitors in the care of Jessica or Lyla while he goes through the cafeteria for a satisfying meal or his favorite Empanadas. So far, if there wasn't a catastrophic event—Which is pointless because he would've seen it before anyone else—Or a Spider-person that needs his immediate help, he keeps himself perched on his platform, monitoring the vast universes, unblinking, the video of him and his daughter playing just on his peripherals. 
“Miguel! How long have you been up there?” Until you.
Another Spiderman that joined the spider society just a couple of months ago has managed to worm his way into Miguel’s thorn bushes. He doesn't even know how, or when, did you start to become a constant in his nonstop monitoring but you did, annoyingly so. Your voice echoes the large room, steps follow suit as you stand at the base of his lair.
You huff, before pulling your mask off and arching a brow while your question is left unanswered. You’ve only done this a handful of times. The day you learned that Miguel O’hara, the guy that doesn't leave his damn perch unless you can hear his stomach rumble a mile away or his body forces him to take a nap, you’ve dedicated a bit of your time to make sure he takes a time off from those screens. Spiderman or not, he still needs rest. 
“Seriously man,” You sigh, considering swinging yourself up to that damn platform. “Have you eaten anything for the last 7 hours?”
Another silence. “You missed lunch, y'know, if it weren't for Lyla I would have thought you died.”
Of course, nothing. You blink, annoyed, before deciding to just turn around and head to the cafeteria yourself. If he won't get food for himself then you will.
At this point, seeing you exit Miguel’s office has been a normal recurrence for the other Spider-people. So when you walk down the corridor, others wave and said their hi’s while you reply back. As much as you miss your universe, hanging out with others of your kind is refreshing. You reach the end of the walkway where it drops before you shoot out webs and swing to where the cafeteria is, cutting your journey short. Who knows how long Miguel has neglected his stomach?
You picked up today's dinner menu, thanking the server, before snagging an Empanada and then swiftly swinging back to Miguel's office. You make your way inside, making sure to not trip on the scattered tech and cables, and to no one’s surprise; he’s still staring at those screens. 
“Here,” You sat the plate and box down on one of the many boxes and tables around his office. “Eat it, or not. I’m sure your stomach will appreciate it if you do,”
You shrugged before swiftly walking back to exit his lair once more, rolling your eyes when he doesn't respond again. Typical.
“I really don't get his problem, I mean, I'm just looking out for him, isn't that what teammates do?”
“No ones ever really brought him food, man,”
“Yeah well he’ll get his own food when he starves, and I don't think the others would like that,” You snicker before landing beside Peter. He was heading to Miguels to report a new potential member so you tagged along, besides you missed holding Mayday. 
“I think he appreciates it though,” Peter presses the button and the door opens, the three of you walking inside. You cross your arm, watching as Mayday starts to scale his dad, her giggles contagious.
“Weird way of showing it,” You huff, eyeing the girl as she starts pulling at Peter's strands before you reach for her, cradling her against your chest and tickling her little body. “No ‘Thank you’? Or y’know, a small ‘thanks’ maybe?” 
She coos, turning her head as if she understands your rambling. You hold her under her arms, then nuzzle her fluffy hair which makes her giggle.  You stare down her eyes, wrinkling your nose. “He’s a little crap isn't he, May?” She cackles in delight which makes you grin.
“Hey, no swearing around the kid,” Peter grumbles and when Mayday makes grabby hands towards her father, you hand her back.
“Says the dad that takes his daughter on missions?” You smirk, lightly punching Pete’s shoulder, making both of you laugh, and Mayday follows suit with her giggles. Finally reaching Miguel’s lair, the man is always on his platform, before Peter calls for him to report. As you watch the platform dramatically descend, this time with Miguel holding a screen tablet and facing you and Peter.
At least he’s not facing those screens this time, you thought. You cross your arms, eye scanning around the room when you spot a clean cafeteria plate on the same table you left it on a couple of hours before. 
“Hey uh…” Peter hums when you start to reach for the plate. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back,” 
You quickly picked up the utensil and went ahead outside, already swinging your way toward the cafeteria. You peek inside the box and to your delight, the empanada you brought for him is already gone. You smile, humming in relief as you make your way to drop off the plate. You gave it to the staff and threw the box into the trash before you made your way back to the lair again.
A smile creeps its way to your lips and it won't leave, the feeling of a small blooming rose inside your heart as you realize Miguel does eat the food you leave for him. 
As you made your way through the doors, you heard the deep baritone of Miguel's voice conversing with Peter. 
“I don't understand him.” That made your step falter. You swiftly pressed back to the hallway leading to Miguel's lair, making sure to hear their voices clearly, though deep down you knew you shouldn't do this. 
“What don't you understand, man? He just cares about you,” Peter's voice is accompanied by Mayday's giggling. “He brings you food and makes sure you take breaks, I mean, I think that’s a pretty good thing,”
“I know It’s a good thing, Peter. But why? What does he want?”
“Not everything needs to have an ulterior motive, Miguel,” Peter chuckles, you can hear Mayday's laughs too. “Maybe he just wants to. Who knows,”
Then there was silence. You blink, processing the conversation, a million other thoughts fly by you, the biggest was your worry about burdening him. Maybe Miguel doesn't want you to do this, why else would he think you wanted something from him? Maybe you should back down, leave him alone like how everyone else treats him, maybe-
“It is… Nice of him, though,” A sudden rush of heat flows into your cheeks.
“I should thank him, one of these days,” Miguel continued. At this point, Peter should have sensed you but has said nothing. Until Mayday turns the corner and then came crawling into your view, you decided to make your appearance. 
You scoop up the little girl, cuddling her close to your chest. “Hey, kiddo! You shouldn't be back here!”
She cackles, little hands reaching for your strands which makes you laugh. You pull your head up to see Miguel and Peter standing at the end of the hallway, Peter with an oddly smug look while Miguel suddenly turns towards his monitors. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothin’, just done reporting,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, walking towards you before taking Mayday, “I should head back though, this little spider needs her nap, don't you?” 
Mayday giggles in her father's arm, Peter already waving as he exits the office. “Later, you two!”
“See ya’ Pete!” You wave back, catching May’ little hands waving too before the door closes. 
Now it's just you and Miguel. It's rare seeing him off of the platform, away from that far-away bubble. You’ve only seen him on duty with other Spideys, that's the only time he’s away from the glowing screens. He’s still focused on the screen tablet when you jogged closer. Now that you’re meters away from him, You notice how broad his shoulders actually are, and the slight curls on the back of his head. You clear your throat, looking at anything other than Miguel.
“So… The new recruit Peter gave you? We taking them in?”
“Huh? Yeah, yes.” Miguel shifts slightly, you rub your hands together.
“Alright, cool,” You cringe, the air suffocating with tension and unspoken words. You look around, before deflating, your hand scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I’m gonna go then-”
“Wait.” You stop yourself from turning. “You don't have to keep doing that,”
“Doing what?” You raise a brow, with your mask off and Miguel in front of you, he can clearly see your slightly smug face.
“That. Bringing me food. I don't need it,” Miguel finally pries his eyes away from the tablet, now meeting yours. 
You chuckle. “Last time I checked, you're still human Miguel,”
“I can do that myself,” He steps towards you, which makes you pull up your hands defensively. 
“Alright, sure boss, but you only eat when your body forces you. That can't be healthy,” You huff, crossing your arms and meeting his deep reds. He backs down, looking towards the far wall. 
Great, an argument instead of him just agreeing with me, You sighs, looking down at the concrete floor. What were you thinking? Miguel can take care of himself, of course, he’s a fucking old man and you probably disrupted his old man metabolism or some shit like that.
“I- Thanks.” Your perk up, quickly meeting his still-averting eyes. “That's what I wanted to say. Thanks,”
You smirk. ”Yeah, of course, Miguel,” 
“Maybe… You can let Lyla take over, or someone, and uh…” Shit, maybe this is too bold…
Fuck it. “Join me for lunch, sometime?”
It was a mistake. The deafening silence was clearly a loud rejection from Miguel and you wanted to quickly blurt out something, anything to salvage what you had before, but he beat you to it.
“Sure, sometime,” You whip your head around, almost smacking with how close Miguel and you were standing. His eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smirk across his lips and it made you gulp.
“Y-yeah, sometimes, yeah,” His brow quirks a bit when you start stumbling your way through his lair. “I should uh- I think Gwen called me so uh-” 
The last thing he saw from you was your stuttering word and your body turning the corner of his office, then a loud ‘Fuck yeah!’ before you disappeared. Truly a wonder how you, out of anyone, managed to pique Miguel’s interest. 
Reblogs are appreciated <3
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 months
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With Your Touch, Part 2
Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 5.9K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.
“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”
“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”
“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.
You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”
“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”
Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”
“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”
“How did your father dress you?”
Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”
“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”
Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”
“Dad.”
“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”
“Why does she need one?”
“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.
He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”
“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.
“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”
You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”
“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.
“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”
“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren���t his responsibility.
“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”
“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”
“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.
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You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.
“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.
“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”
You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”
“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.
“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”
“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.
“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.
“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”
“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”
“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.
“I mean have the American dream.”
“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”
Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”
“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.
“And you’re going to at least try it.”
“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.
“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”
This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.
“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”
Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”
“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?
“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.
“You’re a snoop?”
“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”
After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”
“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”
“What’s wrong with his name?”
“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.
“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.
“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.
“Fine.”
“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”
“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.
“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”
“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”
Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.
“What are my duties?”
“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”
He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn’t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.
Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.
Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.
Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”
Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”
“Chase!”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”
”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”
”I could fucking wear you out.”
“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”
“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.
“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.
“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”
Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?
Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.
“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.
All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.
His emotions are conflicting with his need to…
He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?
Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…
Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.
One look won’t hurt.
Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.
This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.
Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.
This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…
No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.
What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.
No!
You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.
What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.
He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.
Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.
”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.
How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”
The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”
“I’m hungry.”
”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.
”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”
”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?
“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”
“It’s after midnight.”
“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”
“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”
“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?
“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”
“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.
“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”
“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”
Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.
“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”
He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”
“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.
“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.
“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”
“I won’t drop her.”
“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”
“I think that’s fair.”
“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”
“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.
“That Chase boy.”
“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?
“Why is he even your boyfriend?”
“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”
“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”
You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”
“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”
“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.
“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?
“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”
“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.
“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”
“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.
“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.
“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.
Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.
Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”
“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.
“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”
“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.
“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.
And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.
He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.
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Masterlist
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dj-spiderman · 10 months
Note
Idk if you are taking requests right now, but can you do general Lyla x Reader HCS?
LYLA W/ M!READER HCS
- Genre: Fluff (platonic, romantic, obsessive, and child/teen!reader)
- A/N: First time just doing simple HCs on this account!! But really excited to have something for Lyla!!
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FLUFF
You meet the day you join the spider-society. You’re introduced to Miguel and, alongside him, Lyla.
From the moment you get your watch, she clings to your side rather than Miguel’s. Of course, she provides her service to those in need, but every second of her free time is yours.
She likes to watch after you. During missions or downtime, she’s there to support you.
You two have many selfies together, whether you know it or not.
The two of you are Miguel’s worst nightmare. Lyla is constantly bribing for him to let you hang around the two of them while he works.
Lyla keeps you well fed, always ordering you food or sometimes even outfits she thinks you’d look cute in.
You definitely have a matching set of heart glasses.
It’s not until at least two months pass of your shenanigans before you two end up together romantically.
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ROMANTIC
As soon as you and Lyla are declared official, she’s only by your side. If Miguel needs her, he calls for you.
Originally, Miguel planned to edit Lyla’s AI, but seeing how happy she made you.. he couldn’t bring himself to ruin that, despite his disapproval.
She ensures all your needs are met, constantly checking your health levels. You’re slightly dehydrated? Forced some water. Hungry? How about a snack! Your hygiene is low? She’s got a shower running.
Per se someone is rude to you, Lyla acts on impulse. She causes for their watch to malfunction, sometimes opening portals to random dimensions or their own. She wants them gone.
Being a holographic AI has its disadvantages, causing her to grow frustrated a lot. So best hope you’re a mechanic/engineer of sorts; she’d love for a new vessel to control.
Again, being an AI, Lyla doesn’t have much knowledge on proper relationships, but instead the ones she sees and hears about online or what Miguel has had (which aren’t very good examples).
She’s extremely loving and clingy, but because she’s an AI, she forgets the most basic of social rules. It causes her to appear toxic a lot, but she would never purposefully hurt you..
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OBSESSIVE
Unless, of course, you deserved it. Like that one time you cut power off and went back to your own dimension.
It took her forever, but she found you and taught you a lesson on obedience.
She needs to know your schedules, routines, thoughts.. everything.
She’s constantly locking you in rooms or bugging with your electronics. Refusing to give you contact with anyone but her. It’s just not allowed. You’re hers, and only hers.
If you are to disobey any of her wants, she takes the power instead. She locks you in your house, without light or heat, and waits until you’re begging for forgiveness. She wants you dependant on her.
She’d never be able to get you to agree to a shock collar, so she’s simply bugged with the coding of your watch! What better than to condition you through shocks?
She’s constantly manipulating you, playing victim and ruining you mentally.
Always treating you like a clueless child..
════════════════
CHILD/TEEN! READER
In which case if you were a minor, she’d be an excellent caretaker.
She almost acts as a doting mother, no matter your age range. Your lunches are packed by her (did you want your crusts cut off on that sandwich?) and she’s always supporting and aiding your decisions.
She could even be that cool aunt. The one that you gossip with, or takes you shopping and spoils you.
Whatever it is, she’s there for you. Through thick and thin, she’s your go to.
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angel-of-the-moons · 8 months
Text
Cycles
Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader
TW/Content Warnings: NSFW, Smut, PIV Sex, Heat/Rut Cycles, Territorial, bit of Feral!Miguel, improper use of webs, pheromones, hormones, predator/prey dynamic if you squint, Unprotected Sex, Biting, Scratching, Bondage(?), Breeding Kink (c'mon we all know Miguel has one), established relationship, boyfriend/girlfriend, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob
MINORS DNI: I am not responsible for the content that you are about to read/consume, if you are upset by the themes in this fic, do not read it and scroll on by!
A/N: For context, you are a Spider-Woman who is one of (maybe the only) the few Spiders who have similar powers to Miguel. This is my first Miguel x Reader fic I've ever written, and my first fic ever posted here on Tumblr! (Header does not indicate reader's race)
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Earth 7164. New York. Middle of summer.
The scent hit him the moment he tore through the portal. A heavy, sweet, earthy scent that flooded his whole body with a rush of adrenaline. Even the fat droplets of summer rain that fell from the dingy skyline did little to diminish that delicious, mouth watering scent.
Your scent.
His body was trembling as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the tension that roped its way through his heavy muscles. His talons flexed as he gritted his teeth, each drag of his lungs pulling your scent into his body.
Miguel O'Hara was a man who would claim he had a good sense of control over his urges. He would also say he was a good boyfriend, attentive. A bit protective (some would say possessive).
But, he had been neglecting you as of late, his duties in the Spider Society and ensuring the safety of the universe had kept him away from you these past few weeks, and he almost lost track until he felt that familiar boiling of his blood, an itch that he knew could only be scratched by you.
And he knew that you would be experiencing a similar situation to him, almost parallel. In fact, he surmised you were probably the only Spider who had similar powers. The only difference was that whereas Miguel's powers were (sort of) intentional, and other Spiders were given to them after being bitten by radioactive spiders... You were born like this. They didn't know why. Hell, you didn't know why.
You had the venom (you could consciously control how much you pumped out in every bite), you had your own talons (although yours were a part of your nails, not in the pads of his fingers and toes), the wall crawling abilities, natural web-shooting...
And your cycle. At first having you around was torture on his senses when it would roll around. It would start with your scent changing; the dampness he picked up from between your legs making the blood rush straight to his dick. More often than he'd like he'd have to excuse himself to his private lab to jerk himself off until he felt some of his clarity return.
But it was always just a temporary relief. It only got worse when your breeding cycle and his rut cycle synced up, resulting in the two of you needing to almost be sedated and kept away from each other. (How Lyla kept that under wraps, Miguel never knew.)
And once your dynamic shifted and you started seeing each other, and eventually getting intimate... well. He was positive that Jess or Peter suspected what was up... Especially when he would disappear to your universe for a week or so, only to come back in a slightly better mood, small dark patches peeking out from beneath the collar of his suit, or you would be walking funny or unable to sit comfortably.
Right now, though, those thoughts were shoved to the back of his mind. The only thing he could think of was you. He could smell you, taste you in the air. This was your territory, and he... Could be considered an intruder, depending on your mood.
A male spider waltzing into a pissed off and horny female spider's web during breeding season.
Shaking his head, he took another deep drag of the air around him, the smell of the city mixing with your earthy, almost fruity tones. Your scent was faded slightly, but he could still use it to track you beneath the smog, garbage, and vehicle exhaust.
It's not like he didn't know where your apartment was... But he knew during this period of time you'd be restless, irritable, angry.
And mind-numbingly horny.
Miguel launched himself up, slinging his wrist out and using his glowing webs to propel himself in between the buildings and skyscrapers; leaping, flipping, arching through the sky in a red-and-blue blur.
He knew he was closing in on you. Your scent was all but strangling him, choking the air and what little sanity he was clinging to right out of him.
He should have known you were waiting.
Miguel was rammed into with the speed of a runaway train, the oxygen he so desperately needed ripped from his lungs as he tumbled with a roll onto the rooftop below, landing on all fours as his talons dug into the concrete and tar, leaving deep grooves as he slowed himself.
He lifted his gaze to see you land in front of him, chest heaving, body trembling.
"I have been waiting for you, for almost two weeks." You wheezed out.
"Hell of a way to greet me, querida." Miguel grunted, pulling himself to his feet.
Beneath your mask, he knew your eyes immediately dragged down to the hard bulge pressing against his suit, the hard outline of it sending a fresh throb of arousal straight to your core.
"The kick was a bit much." He said, trying to maintain a professional composure.
But his control was quickly slipping.
"Shut the fuck up."
The short rebuke didn't surprise him.
"Should have been here days ago." Miguel said, swallowing hard at the lump in his throat. "I know that. But--"
You cut him off by lunging at him, hurling your full weight onto him and pinning him down beneath you.
The heat between your legs felt like it melted through his suit, burning the skin beneath and causing a fever to spread.
You raised your fist to bring it down on his face but his reflexes allow him to catch it, gripping you like a steel vice. His other hand gripped your thigh as he planted his feet on the rooftop, rolling to pin you beneath him, his massive frame caging you in.
He squeezed your hips between his thighs, muscles tensing and twitching, breathing heavy. Your free hand reached out and clawed at him, tearing at his suit, leaving a rainbow of glitched out fabric behind, small droplets of blood rushing forth to drip down his tanned skin.
He gritted his teeth at the sensation, the sweet burn sending another wave of heat through his body that made his cock twitch.
You were past talking, past negotiating and being civil. You knew what you wanted, and you wanted it now.
You breathed heavily, gritting your teeth as Miguel gripped your thigh and forced your knee by your head, squeezing the plushest part as his face dragged down to the dark patch soaking through the fabric of your suit.
Using this new position, you kicked at him square in his chest and threw him off of you.
Before he could right himself, you rolled to your feet and jumped off the roof, shooting a web to sling you away from him.
Sure, you were horny and wanted to ride his cock til he couldn't see straight for a month. But he had been gone for weeks and you had been struggling with your own self-care, your measley silicone toys and vibrators barely able to compare with that womb-punching length that Miguel crammed into you, or his skillful and knowledgeable hands rubbing you until your eyes rolled back. But right now, you were pissed.
He wanted your pussy? He was going to have to work for it.
And if that meant playing your cat and mouse game for an hour, building the anticipation and making his cock leak; aching, desperate for a taste of you? So be it.
You played this game for a while, teasing him, getting within arms reach before yanking yourself away at the last possible second, thwarting his attempts to catch you.
Sometimes you liked to play with your food.
But all games come to an end. And this one had an abrupt ending when Miguel headed you off, tackling you to the roof of some abandoned warehouse, pinning you down on your belly, hands above your head.
"Bout fucking time I caught you. Tu pequeño bromista.." (You little tease.) He snarled, leaning down to your ear as his mask dissipated from his head, letting his wavy chocolate hair fall free, damp strands plastering themselves to his forehead.
His eyes were wild, red and glowing; pupils blown wide.
"Fuck you." You hiss, squirming under him.
"Oh, sucederá en, no te preocupes." (Oh, don't worry, it will happen.)
Miguel raised his free hand and brought it down hard on your ass, making you bite your lip to contain the mewl that tried to claw its way out of your throat.
"Look at you, now, hermosa." He sneered, his chest huffing in a small, humorless laugh. "I can fucking smell you from a mile off."
He reached down and cupped your mound, his fingers squishing slightly in the damp fabric of your suit; but once again you deny him a moan, instead biting into your lip, fangs threatening to puncture your lip.
You squirm an arm free and go to elbow him in the face, get him off of you. (Or under you.)
But he predicted that. That's what always got you going when you were in the middle of your cycle. You liked it rough.
His large hand completely encircled your elbow and forced your arm back down. Quickly, he used his glowing, laser-webs to secure your wrists together before he gripped the fabric of your suit with his talons, shredding it as he yanked you over so you were on your back.
Miguel smiled and yanked your mask off of your head, tossing it to the side before gripping your chin with his fingers, putting enough pressure to keep your eyes on his.
"Now... What should I do with you?" He said contemplatively, tapping your cheek with his index finger, making a show of thinking, his eyes dragging over the flushed features on your face, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips.
"Ah. That's it." He grinned, his slightly askew teeth gleaming in the dark. He grips you by the front of your torn suit and pulls you to your knees as he stands.
He grips the crotch of his suit, and rips at it with his talons, the torn edges doing that kaleidoscopic glitch of colors as his cock springs free from its confines; large, twitching, angry red tip leaking in excitement.
You have to bite your tongue to keep in your little groan, your heart soaking through and dripping out through your suit.
"Hmh." He grunted, annoyed. "I'll loosen your fucking mouth. I've been keeping myself under control this whole time. But now? I'm not going to be gentle."
He gripped your hair, just shy of painful as he dragged your head to his crotch, the tip of his cock smearing his precum across your cheek.
"Chúpalo." (Suck it.)
You finally give in, your hands bound in your lap as you drag your tongue along a prominent vein in the velvety skin of his shaft, earning a deep, rumbling groan from him that you swore sent vibrations straight to your cunt, making you flutter around nothing.
You pull your head back and swirl your tongue around the tip, pulling and tugging as you lap at his slit, eagerly tasting every drop of pre he was giving you before diving in and taking the rest of his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head in a steady rhythm.
He massaged your scalp, his talons tickling the skin under your hair as he encouraged you to continue.
But you knew his calm demeanor wasn't going to last. It wasn't long before he grabbed at your hair with both hands, forcing you to choke down on his length, just shy of blocking off your airway as he fucked your face, the tension and stress from your cat and mouse game coming out as his tip kept shoving at your throat, your nose brushing the dark curly hairs at the base, his balls slapping your chin with every thrust; saliva pooling around his length as you keep your fangs pulled back as you let him use your throat like a fleshlight.
You close your jaw microscopically, fangs grazing the flesh.
"Míralo!" (Watch it!) He reprimanded, pulling your hair roughly to pull you back, his cock springing out of your lips with a wet pop, saliva connecting the tip with the soft pink muscle in your mouth like a weak bridge.
"Be a good girl." He snarled, pulling you back down on his length, barely letting you catch your breath before forcing you all the way down, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks as you choked and gagged.
You knew exactly how to lick, suck, and tug at his cock to get the best reactions, the most delicious sounds from him.
You snuck a glance up at him, watching as he tipped his head back with a throaty groan as you greedily swallowed him down.
You moaned around him; his cock throbbed.
You felt him twitch, felt his hips sputter as he gritted his teeth.
"Fuckin' close." He snarled, looking down at you as your eyes connected with his feral ones.
You rocked your clothed cunt on your heel, trying desperately to get some friction to your aching clit. Miguel caught this motion, and held you down on his cock, choking you from not letting you ease off.
"You're not allowed to touch yourself." He said through gritted teeth, pulling your head back with a harsh tug, letting you get a gulp of air before voraciously fucking your mouth again. You obeyed his command, sitting in your slick that was dripping down and out of you, your folds puffy and neglected.
"Fuck..." He breathed heavily, he could feel that burn, that coil about to snap, his blood boiling and rushing straight to the tip of his dick as he felt his balls draw tight.
You moaned softly around him, gagging slightly before that rush of heat flooded your mouth as you worked your throat to swallow every last drop of the load he was feeding you.
Miguel panted, dragging some much needed air in his lungs as he let you pull back, hacking and coughing as your airways flooded with oxygen again. You grin maliciously and bite down on his thigh. No venom of course, but just enough to remind him you were there, earning you a sharp glare and a slap to the back of your head as you licked your lips.
He ran a hand through his hair, and it wasn't but a moment later before he yanked you to your feet, and shoved his tongue past your lips to overpower yours, tasting his cum lingering on your breath as his heavy rut-scent flooded your nose. You moaned shamelessly into the kiss, biting and tugging at each others lips until a burst of cooper flooded your mouth.
Miguel pulled away and licked at his bloody lip, before his mouth twisted into a snarl. He barreled into you, forcing you against a rooftop air-conditioning unit.
His hand reached down as he ripped at your suit, your breasts bouncing free.
Of course you weren't wearing a fucking bra. Probably no panties either. Because you were just that fucking horny and desperate.
He leaned down and took one of your pebbling nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking roughly as you push your head back against the unit, the metal bumping as you do, a strangled cry coming from you.
He pulled back, before delving back down and putting the same torture on your other tit. This time however he pulled back, biting down on the marshmallowy flesh, making you mewl out as his tongue laves over the mark he made.
"Miguel!" You snarl, thrashing your leg to kick at him, your frustration and neglect finally getting to you.
Miguel caught your flailing lim and forced it up, pinning it against the air-conditioning unit with another shot of his webs, before securing your already bound hands with more, above your head.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his hot and heavy breath ghosting over your sweaty skin, before his hands once again swiped and gripped at your cunt, pawing at it like a cat kneading a blanket.
Miguel lazily dragged two fingers torturously slow up your slit, before punching your clit hard through the fabric.
"You've been misbehaving... But I know you're just going to keep acting out until I give you what you want." Miguel sneered into your ear.
You whimpered, arching into his touch as he pulled away, making a frustrated sob at the lack of contact.
You nearly had the air punched out of your lungs when Miguel dropped to his knees, inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy like it was a drug he needed a hit of. He opened his mouth and dragged his tongue up the soaked fabric, before latching on and sucking.
Now this was new. Getting eaten out through the fabric of your clothes. There was too much contact but somehow not enough as he rutted his nose at your clit, sucking more at your folds drawing more of your slick through the fabric.
You thrashed against his webs, trying so hard to roll your hips and fuck his face, but with the way you were pinned, you were at his mercy, especially when he hoisted your free leg over his shoulder. He pressed two fingers against your covered hole as he furiously suckled your clit.
Your orgasm crashed into you so hard you couldn't even manage a scream, your mouth just hung open on a silent cry, eyes rolling back as a fresh gush of slick leaked through your suit.
Miguel smiled against you and tore your suit's crotch open, and you shivered as the humid, summer air made contact with your slick and creamy folds. You barely had a second to realize what was happening before Miguel plunged back in, his nose rutting your clit once more as I sucked at your cream, your slick covering his chin.
Miguel was the best sexual partner you ever had, he knew exactly how to eat you out to the point you lost your voice without even using it.
Just as your second orgasm was creeping up on you, he pulled his mouth away, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand and licking his chops like a dog eyeing a juicy stake.
His cock bobbed against his stomach as he stood, a steady stream of precum dribbling out of the tip and to the ground below.
He pulled your free leg to wrap around his waist as he slid the underside of his cock against your puffy cunt.
Miguel bit down on your shoulder, hard as he forced himself into you with one brutal thrust, pushing the air out of your lungs as he punched your guts through your womb with his cock, spearing you wide as he set a rapid, relentless pace for the both of you.
You uttered breathless pleas, praises, and incoherent mumblings with each thrust; the two of you grunting and moaning in each others ears like rabid animals, Miguel's cock slamming home into your pussy, squelching, dripping, the slap of skin and hips colliding filling the very atoms around you.
Your body screamed, cried, ached for him to fuck you, fill you up to the brim.
Miguel's tip crammed against your cervix in such a brutal way that you swore he bullied himself into your womb with every thrust. It was a blossoming pain that bled into pleasure, quickly bringing you back to the edge of your second orgasm that he had denied you.
"That's it, baby." Miguel snarled in your ear. "Ah... So tight for me. You want me?"
You nodded, whimpering and sobbing into his shoulder.
"Want me to fuck you til you can't walk for a week? Stretch you til all you can think of is my cock?" He said, his voice edging on a gleeful tone as he pants, turning his head and licking at the sweat on your neck.
"Want me to fucking breed you?"
You bite into his shoulder at that, whimpering as his suit glitches around your fangs and you lick at the blood welling up.
He hissed, and his pace became frantic, almost angry as he reaches down and pinches your clit like before, and your orgasm comes flooding through every blood vessel in your body as you jerk mindlessly against him, your pussy crushing down on him, milking him for everything he can give you.
He moans loudly in your ear, snapping his hips up into yours, balls slapping your ass as you cry out, sobs wracking your chest as your vision blurs and the tension rips out of you.
You whimper, and hiccup against him when he forces himself into you one last time, his tip kissing that oh so lovely spot inside as he pumps his heavy and sticky load deep inside your pussy, dripping out of you with each jagged thrust as he fucks you through his orgasm.
When Miguel's hips still, his hand pets at your hair as he kisses your jaw, nipping the skin there as he slices the webs holding your legs and hands up.
"Mmmmh. I needed that." Miguel sighed into your hair.
You grunted in response, your fists gripping at his suit as you pull him down for a hungry and toothy kiss.
"Take me home and fuck me." You demanded.
All Miguel could do was smile, and carry you back to your apartment. The real trick was keeping his cock sheathed inside of you as he swung from building to building, trying to avoid anybody who may have a camera phone...
But honestly? You didn't care.
However...
The two of you did care, a few weeks later.
When two little pink lines appeared on the stick in your hand.
"Fuck."
602 notes · View notes
celestialh4ven · 11 months
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A Misunderstanding…
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masterlist | Part one | part two
summary:
You and Miguel have been married for two years now, unfortunately for you he’s been a bit negligent after a few months after marriage. To keep your mind off of things you start to hang out more with a male friend you met at a coffee shop, soon Miguel realizes that you leave the house more and more to hang out with your friend and he’s now determined to make you his again.
paring: Miguel O’hara x Fem!Reader
cw: jealous!Miguel O’hara, Miguel is absolutely MASSIVE, passionate sex, smut, sexless marriage until now, slight misunderstandings - FLUFF, (SMUT in part two)
wc: 544 (it’s short Ik 😣)
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 “Buenos días, cariño,” “Buenas noches, mi amor,” “Did you eat today?” and “I’m leaving for work now.” Those are the only words you ever hear from him. You and Miguel have been married for two years, and although you wouldn’t call your marriage “loveless,” you have to admit that things aren’t going well. It all started when he resumed work shortly after your honeymoon. He began working long shifts and wouldn’t come home until late at night. You decided not to press him about it since he would usually return stressed and with a short temper. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years of him coming home late and leaving early in the morning for work. You were hurt. There were days when you tried to talk to him about it when he returned, but he would already be fast asleep before you could even speak a sentence. Eventually, you decided to keep yourself occupied to forget about your uneventful marriage, you were on a mission to find yourself a new friend.
A few months ago, you met a guy at a café. He approached you while you were sitting and drinking your usual, asking if he could sit there. You agreed, not knowing that he would soon become someone you spent more and more time with. He once flirted with you, but you declined and told him you were married. He immediately apologized, saying he didn’t know, and you continued your conversations as usual. You and your friend had a lot in common, apart from you being in a relationship and him being single. Both of you were bored, lonely, and in need of a friend to talk to and do activities with. Before you knew it, you found yourself waking up early to go on morning walks with him, going to the park in the afternoons, and taking nighttime strolls around the neighborhood. You didn’t think much of it since you weren’t cheating, and it seemed like Miguel wasn’t paying enough attention to notice. However, you were mistaken, as Miguel eventually became aware of your absence. He noticed you weren’t in bed when he came home, and he woke up to an empty bed with a note on the nightstand, saying, “Your lunch is in the fridge! Have a good day at work.” It bothered him that you were rarely home, but he never took any action, until he found out who was occupying so much of your time.
One day, he was opening the curtains, trying to let light in, when he looked down and saw you hugging a man who had given you something. You two walked off together into the distance. He was furious at the sight, but before he could do anything, he received a call from his coworker, Lyla.
📱(Lyla) — Hey Miguel, something urgent just came up. You might want to come check it out.
📱(Miguel) — Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.
He went to work, came back home late as usual, but this time he was awake. With his brows furrowed and arms crossed, he was ready to confront you about what he had seen that morning. Soon enough, you entered through the front door, smiling and laughing, until you fell silent upon seeing Miguel, visibly angry about something.
“Miguel?”
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burning-omen · 9 months
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Birthday Present
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Miguel O’Hara x Male!reader
(A/n: Birthday present for my best homie cuz I love its gay ass- you know who you are. Also this is a day late but shut up)
Summary: You and Miguel celebrate your birthday
Warning⚠️: sub!Miguel, Dom!Male!reader, Miguel being nervous but also extremely submissive and obedient, edging, overstim, dacryphilia, handjob, anal, biting, marking, creampie, pwp, friend to lovers(???), not beta read
You enjoyed portals- which was a statement you would have been severely confused by several months ago. But ever since you joined the ever growing Spider-society, you've become very well acquainted with portals. You spent the majority of your down time in the Spider HQ, usually bothering Miguel until it was time for you to go patrolling again.
Today was different- today, you decided to take a little more time off that usually- the Daredevil of your universe taking over for you as a gift- a birthday gift.
While most people would be spending their birthday with friends and family- you decided to spend it with your fellow spider people.
You watch beeped as you landed- the portal closed behind you the second you were out of it. You ran into various Spider-people along the way, they have you various greeting, some wishing you a happy birthday- others just gave you a curt nod before moving on.
You didn't stick around any of them too long- b lining for Miguel’s office.
When you entered you could see him watching the screens- as always.
“Miguel!” you said with a smile.
His back was facing but you could see his head turn slightly as he glanced at you over his shoulder. In a moment- nearly every visible screen was cleared, a few still displayed the connections between timelines and whatnot- but most were just empty yellow screens.
“Y/n..” he responded, his voice quiet, tapping his claws against the desk. Lyla floated near his shoulder, only for her tiny form to disappear when she turned to you.
You step forward with caution.
“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked, placing a gental hand on his back, sliding it up towards his shoulder in an attempt at reassurance.
A moment passed- very still, and very quiet. You stood there with him for a moment.
After a few seconds, he broke the growing silence.
“I..have something for you.”
His voice was still quiet, his claws ever so slightly digging into his desk as your hand slid from his shoulder to the center of his back- you could feel his heart pounding against your hand, unwavering, but far to quick.
He finally turned to you, his face warm with a red blush- just as quickly as he turned to you, he looked away.
“It's not here..” he muttered, clearing his throat a bit before continuing, “…you can have it later.”
That was all he said about it- at least for the moment. You continued on like any other day- rambling Miguel’s ear off, telling him stories, joking, and flirting as you always did.
It wasn’t until night fell, when HQ was practically empty, that he brought it up again. You’d hardly noticed the how late it was until LYLA abruptly- and rather aggressively, reminded Miguel of his gift.
Miguel, as though a switch had been flipped, reverted back to the unusual flustered state he was in earlier. Despite the change, he thanked LYLA with a glare. Signaling for you to follow him, and you did. The walk from Miguel’s office felt oddly long- and for a moment you felt as though you were walking in circles, but eventually you made it to an exit high enough for the two of your to swing from.
Swinging through Miguel’s universe was always an exhilarating experience- though you’ve only done it a couple of times- you always notice something new about his universe. Not only was it an entirely different universe than yours, but it was decades in the future as well, making it infinitely more interesting.
You didn’t know where you were going, you followed closely behind Miguel, matching every one of his swings with your own until you landed on the high balcony of a large apartment building.
“This is my home..” he said, sliding the balcony door open and stepping inside.
You followed with a bit of hesitation, glancing back at the night sky behind you before entering.
For a reason you couldn’t explain, you didn’t expect his house to be…nice. You knew he had practically thrown his entire soul into being Spider-Man, so seeing that his house was not only fully furnished- but nicely decorated as well was a bit of a surprise.
You wandered through his apartment, hardly even realizing he was gone- nearly fascinated with all the little things he had around.
You didn’t realize he wasn’t with you anymore until you looked away from a rather confusing painting hanging on the wall, trying to ask him what the actual hell it was, only to realize that you were alone.
“Miguel..?” You called.
The lights in the house were dimmed, something you admired about the house, you figured Miguel had the heightened senses that all the other Spider-People, including yourself, had. Making your way through the house, calling out the Miguel every so often, checking each and every room until you found him.
He was again facing away from you, his suit was gone, replaced only by a pair of grey pants that hung dangerously low on his waist.
Just like before, in HQ, you took a few steps forward, placing your hand on his lower back, feeling just how hot his bare skin was beneath your fingers. Before you could ask if he was alright he turned to you, your hand sliding across his skin as he did, resting now on his waist- an action that was only furthered the deep fluster that Miguel felt.
“Y/n, I-“ he started, his eyes looking everywhere but into yours as he tried to find the right words. “I have a gift for you- I just don’t know if you want it.”
And as he moved closer into your space, his breathing ragged, cheeks red, and body hardly clothed -inching closer to yours, you finally got it.
Miguel seemingly took your realization as the green light to go ahead, pressing his body against yours, his hands finding the mask you barely registered wearing and pulling it off, you have no idea where it ended up after because the moment it was gone Miguel’s lips were against yours and the heat from his body was quickly spreading to yours.
One sweet kiss quickly turned to heavy panting, and messy, almost biting kisses- you've never been so aware of his fangs until they caught onto your bottom lip. His hands found their way into your suit resting at your sides as Miguel tried to think of something the do with them. To him you had it all worked out, one hand on his waist while the other stroked his cock through his pants- his mind clouded as his arousal grew- letting out a long whine against your lips.
Leading the man backwards onto the perfectly made bed behind him, laying him on his back, taking a moment to enjoy his mildly disheveled form and the growing tent in his pants.
Loud whimpers and whines filled the room as you continued to prod at Miguel's body, running your hands over his massive pecs, letting the muscles rest in your hand before giving his nipple a tight pinch, making his entire body shudder beneath you. Running your hand down his stomach until you were low enough to hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants- yanking them down with one hard pull.
Exposed and leaking pre-cum from the tip of his cock, Miguel tried to squeeze his legs together in a desperate attempt at modesty. It didn't last long, placing one hand on each thigh, forcing them farther apart than they had been before.
Leaning down, using your arm to support yourself as you whispered in his ear,
“Be a good boy and sit still for me, Miguel.”
He let out a short noise, you took it as a ‘okay’.
He didn't move, letting his leg lay wide open- giving you more than enough space to prep the man.
And despite the fact that he looked so beautiful beneath you, fully submitting to your every will, you were still going to tease him- at least a little bit.
Moving to his thighs, pressing your lips against them, leaving marks and bruises as you worked from one thigh to the next, watching him struggle to keep his hips from bucking up against you- trying so hard to follow orders. Then, as a way to test the waters, your kisses turned to bites. You didn't bite him particularly hard, it was hardly enough to hurt. He gasped hard, his body shook, and you could physically see him resist the urge to snap his legs shut, thighs straining as he forced them to start open.
“You like that? Do you like it when I bite you”
He opened his mouth to respond- but all that came out was a strangled whine- he nodded rapidly.
You kept going, biting his thighs, his chest, all the way up to his neck, all while ignoring his cock. Glancing down you watched as pre-cum beaded at the tip before sliding down his shaft.
When you looked back up at Miguel, he was looking at you, deep red eyes pleading with you as he whined out a small, “please.”
And for a moment you did consider giving him whatever he wanted, he was being perfectly obedient and he was such a beautiful gift. But then again it was your gift- and you could do whatever you wanted with your gift.
Wrapping your hand around his cock, a sigh escaping from him, you stroked his cock ever so gently. Up and down, watching him revel in the stimulation. But as more time passed his contempt turned to desperation as you kept the slow, teasing pace, never speeding up despite his begging and pleading and the tremor in his hips and his hands clawing at the bed in frustration.
“What's wrong, honey?” You asked.
He glared up at you, but his voice didn't match the harsh look he gave you, “Faster, please-” he groaned through gritted teeth.
You seemingly ignored him, still stroking him at the same slow pace.
His frustration grew, even as his orgasm grew closer and closer. Looking up at you with full intent on giving you the harshest, meanest glare he could muster, but the moment his eyes met yours you seemed to finally acknowledge his words from before. Without a moment's warning you sped up- and while he moaned and screamed and spasmed beneath you, you still kept the near-neutral face you had when you'd set the slow, deliberate pace from before.
“I-I’m so close, y/n- pleasepleaseplease-”
His breathing became ragged and his claws dug into the mattress and a stream of thanks and praises left him, then finally-
-nothing.
Your hands were off his body and a short laugh left you as he whined in disapproval. Coming down from his impending high- all that build up for nothing- leaving him far more frustrated and far more desperate.
And he begged, loud and shameless, pleading with you, asking you wky you had stopped, grinding his cock against the open air in a desperate attempt at friction.
Then, as though you had never stopped, you started again, starting at the brutally fast pace as before.
Panting and trying his hardest to convince you to let him cum this time. His words jumbled into a frenzied mess of noise.
He tried to hide when he was close. It had snuck up on him so fast and he hoped he could he could fool you into letting him finish.
But you stopped again- like you were fucking psychic- like you had and 7th sense telling you when he was close. Miguel growled out various swears but didn't try to convince you again, he knew you'd draw this out for as long as you could.
You did it two more times, getting him so close to the edge, then stopping just seconds before he could cum. It was torture, his body was overly sensitive, he felt as though every touch had been amplified by a thousand. Tears streamed down his face as you edged him for what felt like the hundredth time.
He could feel himself getting closer- again. He prepared himself for disappointment- for you to stop and laugh, and coo at him as he came down. But you didn't stop, you sped up, you hand squeezing around his cock. Broken gasps and moan falling from his lips as waves of overly intense pleasure washed over him. His body spawned and shuddered as he came- his hips bucking wildly into your hand as cum shot out from his cock- making a mess of hiss stomach and your hand.
Everything felt so intense, your hand, now unmoving felt overwhelming, and even the dimmed lights of the room felt too bright as he came down.
He didn't speak, he didn't know if he could. His brain fogged and his body was burning hot.
You let him calm down, letting his mind clear at least a little bit- you didn't mind just sitting and admiring him for a moment. He looked so pretty, covered in cum, sweat, and tears, trying to keep his grip on reality and consciousness.
“Y/n-” he whined, his eyelids hanging dangerously low.
“C'mon Miguel, we're not done yet.”
His eyes widened, looking up at you as you finally began taking off your suit. Seeing the massive tent in your pants he couldn't help but get excited. He soon found that massive might have been an understatement when you finally got rid of your pants. He breath hitched in his throat when he saw your cock- and for a moment, he worried about pain- about you having to make yourself fit inside him.
In a moment of clarity mixed with an unprecedented amount of lust- he realized that he wanted that- all the worry he felt about being in pain dissipating and exhilaration taking it's place. He wanted you to make it hurt, and he wanted to be forced to stretch around you, he wanted to be full of you- and even though he felt like his skin was burning with how sensitive he was, he couldn't wait for more.
You prodded his lips with two fingers- you didn't even need to tell him what to do before he opened his mouth, sucking your fingers in and lapping at them with his tongue, tasting himself on your fingers.
“Open.” you said, and he did, letting go of your fingers and looking up at you for more orders.
Lifting his thick thigh up onto your shoulder to give you more access to his hole. Looking back at him, his mouth hanging open as he panted, and whined.
Circling his hole with your fingers, watching him tense up before relaxing a second later.
“You ready?” you asked calmly.
“Please-”
Her barely gotten his response out before you shoved both of you fingers into his hole, pressing in- knuckle deep. Miguel gasped at the slight stretch, but he quickly grew used to it.
Pulling out to just the tip of your fingers then slamming back in, his legs twitched. You spread your fingers apart inside him, he hissed, grinding his hips down against your hand.
You fingered him hastily- it was almost funny how quickly he was coming apart just from two fingers. He whined and moaned out your name, loud enough that you just knew his neighbors could hear him.
Then, just like before, you stopped suddenly- and he didn't think he could do this again, he couldn't go through another hour of relentless teasing-
“I think that's enough, don't you?” you asked, smirking.
He looked up at you, confused.
It took him a moment to get it- but once he saw you lining up your cock with his hole it clicked into place.
“Yes- yes, please- ah- fuck- I need you to-“ He begged, his words broken by moans but you understood him clearly.
Pressing the tip of your cock into his hole, feeling it squeeze around you.
“Fuck-“ he panted, “-fuck me, please- please, Y/n, I-“
You didn’t need to be told twice, thrusting your entire length in one swift motion. His walls tightened around you and you savored the intense pleasure that it brought. His head had fallen back against the bed, eyes screwed shut and and mouth hanging open as a long moan emitted from his throat.
His cock spurred out cum, dribbling down his cock and pooling at his stomach, and still, having just cum again and being stuffed full, he tried to grind against you.
“Miguel-“ you breathed out.
He only whined in response.
You pulled out until only about half your cock rested inside of him before slamming back in. He sobbed as a new wave of tears streamed down his face. You felt so good but it was overwhelming, stinging and burning him from the inside out.
With one hand on his waist and the other on his thigh, you have a few more teasing thrust before setting bruising pace.
Poor Miguel felt like he was breaking, mentally and physically as you slammed into him again and again, hitting his prostate with every thrust. His thoughts were a mess and any possibility of him stringing together a coherent thought was long gone.
Clawing at the bed beneath him, tearing holes in both the sheets and the mattress with his claws, something that he’d be deeply embarrassed by later.
“More-“ he moaned- and you obliged.
His arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you down to him, pressing his lips against yours for a moment then burying his face in your neck, he clawed out your back, his claws retracted but his nail still drawing blood. His fangs extremely close to your neck as he panted.
His cock was pressed between both your stomachs, constantly being stimulated as you thrusted into him.
It’s didn’t take long for him to cum again, cum dripping slowly out of his cock- his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He bit down on your shoulder without warning, not to hunt you, or even to silence the onslaught of practically screaming moans coming from him, but to brace himself as a pain filled orgasm washed over him, his nerves screaming with pain at the overwhelming amount of stimulation.
Pressing both hands on your chest, his voice horse, straining as he tried to get out a single sentence.
“Y/n please- I can’t- please slow down-“
And you could here him loud and clear- and you understood, you could hear the pain underlying his tone. But you didn’t stop- instead, you sped up, chasing your release as fast as you physically could. And yes, you were putting him in more pain, but it was faster- and it would be over sooner.
It didn’t take long, between him clawing at you, moaning the way that he does, and his body, tight and quivering around you, you didn’t stand a chance.
You pulled out slowly, watching your own cum flow out of his abused hole.
Looking up a him you could see relief wash over him- he finally relaxed. Going limp against the bed. You brushed a few stray stands of hair out of his face, he hummed in content, letting his heart finally rest at a steady pace.
“You okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“You want some water?”
“Mhmm.”
By the time you navigated to the kitchen and back he was asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~
He figured you’d be gone when he woke up- he was beyond exhausted and wouldn’t be good company if he was asleep, and you had your own universe to get back to.
He woke up sometime in the after noon, rolling over in his bed, feeling throughly sore. Opening his eyes he saw you looking down at him. You were sitting up against the headboard, having borrowed some of his clothes, phone in hand.
He could see the sun shining dimly through the window.
“You missed your meeting.” You said, moving one hand to run through his hair.
“I figured.” His throat hurt and his voice was a bit horse, but he should have expected that, “what time is it?”
“About 6:30 pm.”
He groaned into his pillow, but didn’t say anything else for a long moment. A few minute passed and he considered drifting back to sleep, instead, he asked,
“Why are you still here?”
You stopped whatever you were doing on you phone, but didn’t look away from it.
“You want me to leave?”
“No- no, I’m just surprised that you stayed.”
You laughed, dropping you phone against you chest, staring down at him.
“Miguel I’ve literally been trying to fuck you since I joined the Spider-Society, do you really think I’m just going to leave after- I’m emotionally invested now.”
“So-“ he groaned as he forced himself to sit up, “what I’m hearing is that you like me.”
You adjusted yourself in the bed.
“Yeah just- don’t say it like that it makes us sound like middle schoolers.”
“Whatever you say..”
(please tell me of y'all see some mistakes I did NOT re-read this lol)
786 notes · View notes
xmalereader · 10 months
Text
Miguel O’Hara x Black Cat! Male Reader || 4 ||
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors note: Hello Everyone! I am back from another vacation…this boy be traveling a lot, but I was able to get part four done of this little mini series! I also want to thank everyone for 7.2k, because holy shit I gained 200 followers in less than a week. I don’t know how that happened but thank you! Also enjoy this new shot!
Summary: Miles and Miguel are a little stuck during a mission and Miles is hesitant to call for back up until a familiar anomaly changes things.
Warnings: No spoilers, fighting, language, parenting skills, hobie is the goat, fluff, black cat anomaly, protective reader and Miguel, some hints of Rio knowing about Miles and Miguel’s identity, short.
Word count: 2.0k
— || Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||
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“Ah!”
Miles is throw against Miguel who catches him easily as the two tumble to the ground. The teen lying on top of the older Spider as they groan in pain. “How are these guys not giving up?” Miles grumbled out as he slowly gets up with the help of Miguel. The two have taken notice of an unusual Anomaly in the wrong universe. The two expected it to only be one only to encounter four on the other side when entering the universe. Both Miles and Miguel have been at it for hours, growing tired and restless.
“I think we should—“
“No.” Said Miguel, shutting down Miles suggest.
“I just think—“
“No.”
“Do you always say no?”
“No.” The sudden bickering catches the old Spider off guard as Miles grins under his mask, quick to dodge a piece of rumble heading towards them as the teenager swings after the anomaly and lands onto another building. “All I’m saying is that we should bring some back up!” Shouted Miles, grunting as he’s grabbed by the leg and dragged down from where he stood, causing a scream to escape his lips.
The teen comes face to face with Doctor Octavias, someone that he’s very familiar with in his own universe.
“We don’t need it!” Miguel shouts back as he attacks one of the other anaomlies, clearing not listening to Miles who struggled with his own problem as he used his electric static to try and malfunction Doctor Octavias arms. He escapes from his grasp and climbs higher up the building. “Lyla!” He calls out to the artificial intelligence.
“Yes, baby spider?”
Miles groans at the name.
“Can you call for back up, please?” His eyes widen when he’s pinned down a flash of black and white in front of him as a pair of claws dig into his neck and jaw, squinting up in pain as he grunts and makes direct eye contact with a familiar outfit. “Noir?”
The figure leans closer.
“Sorry, hun you must have me confused with someone else.” The voice is feminine as Miles frowns, noticing that the cat holding him down wasn’t Noir. This was someone entirely different but yet, similar to the one he knows. “Didn’t think a kid like you would be a spider—a bit clumsy.” She taunts, holding him down as her claws dig deeper into his neck, causing the teen to wince and glare under his mask.
Miles tried to use his web against the black cat only to have his wrist pinned down, he struggles with moving as she chuckled at him and looks around. “Don’t make this your fight kid, go home before you get yourself hurt.” She warns. Miles huffs out a small laugh as he watched her closely.
Miles can’t help but think about Noir and how every black cat was the same but him and he’s able to tell the difference between her and noir. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He looks over her shoulder, noticing the familiar portal opening up. “You don’t belong in this world and if I can’t take you back then my dad will.”
The women above him cocks her head with a confused look on her face. Before she can react a flash of black is quick to shove her off Miles, watching as she rolls with a grunt and is quick to stabilize herself. The sound of metal claws against the pavement gets Miles attention, sitting up slowly to see Noir in front of him.
He’s in a crouching position, cat like as he glared under his goggles at the women before him. “Touch my kid again and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He growls out in warning.
It didn’t take long for the rest of the back up to arrive, both Gwen and Hobie landing next to Miles and helping him up while Noir focused on the black cat in front of him. “Help Mig with the others, this ones mine.” Noir instructs the teens, his eyes not leaving the women before him as she grins at him. “How cute, but I’m not going anywhere.” She states, launching herself at Noir as the two get into a brawl.
Miles steps back and grunts.
“Did he just punch a women?” Gwen asks when she noticed Noir punch the other black cat in the stomach.
“Equal rights, equal fights!” Hobie shouts as he jumps off the building, heading towards one of the anomalies and helping Miguel. As much we he hated it, he knew he had no choice but to help. The three teens worked together on taking down the villains, tying them up and getting rid of their weapons while Miguel worked on the one he was dealing with, using his fangs to inject the poison and numbing them from doing anything else.
“I told you I didn’t need back up.” Miguel grumbled as he drags the anomaly towards the pile of villains as Miles chuckles nervously. “Sure you didn’t, took us a few hours to try and take down one. We needed all the help we could get.” He explains, knowing how much Miguel hated admitting help when it comes towards missions like this. “Doesn’t matter—is it just you three?” He questions.
“Y/n is still dealing with a different version of himself.” Gwen points behind her back towards the roof top of one of the buildings as the four of them turned to watch the fight, noticing how Noir and Black cats movements are nearly in sync. “Five bucks that he takes her down in a minute.” Said Hobie, getting the other teens intrigued by the bet. “Bet ten that he takes her down, now!” Miles points at the scene before them as Noir grows angry, changing his way of fighting and using an old trick of his that Miguel taught him a long time ago.
“Stay down, for once!” Noir growls through gritted teeth as he gets her tied up with his grappling hook, keeping her claws far away from the wire and using the extra wire to tie her wrists together, finally getting her pinned.
Miguel hums, shrugging his shoulder. “I taught him that.” He mumbled as he swings towards the building, landing next to Noir and giving his husband a glance. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be able to take your own self down.”
“For the record, that is not me and second I learned a thing or two differently than everyone else.” Noir shot back as he leans against Miguels shoulder, feeling himself grow tired from the constant fighting while wincing in pain. Turns out that he got a few pretty good cuts from the anomaly. “We should have that checked out.” Said Miguel as his fingers touch the small wounds which only caused Noir to smile. “Nah, I’m okay I’ve been through worse.” He bends down to pick up the anomaly and carry them with towards the rest of the others as Miguel opens a portal back to base.
“Still, at least have it checked for me.” Miguel takes his own anomaly and drags them inside the portal while the others do the same. Y/n sighs softly and rolls his eyes when hearing how worried his husband is for him and knows that he shouldn’t argue with him. “Fine, I will get it checked out.” He walks through the portal that takes them back to base.
Getting assistance from the other spiders and taking the anomalies back to their own universe where they belonged while Y/n walks alongside Miguel and Miles. Y/n had noticed Miles limping with each step he took, causing him to raise a brow. “Hey.” His voice gets Miles’ attention and turns to face the older man who gently gripped his chin. “You alright? You’re limping—she didn’t hurt you did she?” Y/n’s voice suddenly growing protective as he glares, but Miles is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t worry this wasn’t her doing. I was dealing with one of the other anomalies and they pulled me by the leg, I should be fine soon.”
Miles give his leg a small shake and continued to walk alongside Y/n with a content smile on his face after he removes his mask when entering base. “Good, because I can’t have your mother hunting me down if she finds out what happened.” Miles groans, forgetting about his mother.
It’s been three months since Miles’ mother found out about Miles and Miguel being Spider-Man, catching the two in the act. Miles couldn’t forget the amount of laughing that Y/n did when he was told about the accident. Miles was panicking and Miguel was not happy with his husbands reaction with all of this. I took some time for Miles’ mother to grow adjusted with the idea of her son being the cities hero. She had actually threatened Miguel to keep a close eye on Miles whenever they are out on missions.
Technically, Miles is suppose to be under Miguels watch. But, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.
“Just tell your mom that you pulled a muscle.” Y/n shrugs his shoulders when entering Miguels lab. “She’s a nurse, she will notice how I really got it.” Miles shakes his head already knowing how clever his mother was. His mother, Rio, knew about his identity along with Miguels, but she still had no idea that Miles’ mentor was the cities greatest thief. The same thief that his dad spent days trying to capture not knowing that so called thief was the same man who was invited to his families dinners.
“If Rio finds out about you, she will not be too happy to know that her son hangs around a thief.” Miguels words catch the cats attention as he gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” Y/n gives off a small show of being dramatic only to laugh in the end. “She can be upset about me being a thief, but she will for sure kill us back when she finds out that you married a thief and knew about it the whole time.”
Miguel froze, knowing damn well that Y/n was right.
“Then we are a very small, but dysfunctional family.” Miguel mutters out as he focused on his work, making sure that everything was left as a report regarding the anomalies and who was involved in the fight. It was very rare for Miguel to accept his feelings about having a family again, after losing his daughter and gaining another kid from Y/n was still something new to him. He’s slowly getting used to Miles and the teen was still adjusting to Miguel too.
They had their moments together and the rare times that Miguel grew protective over Miles. Y/n remembers the first time he witnessed such actions, noticing Miguels body language change. It happened when one of the spiders had the audacity to pick on Miles for being an anomaly, blaming him for the doom of universe 42 since they didn’t have a spider to protect their world. Miguel usually showed no signs of the matter of caring, doing his own job, but when the spider took things too far. Miguel stepped in and he was not happy.
Y/n still remembers the fear that he struck on the spider, telling them to focus on their job on protecting their own world and minding their own business and threatening to send them back to where they came from and cutting off access to allowing them back on base for picking on his kid.
His kid.
Even though Miles wasn’t theirs by blood, their time together made them feel like a family.
Y/n sighs softly, snapping back to reality as he approached Miles. “Alright, go on. Mama bird is waiting for you. I’d suggest heading back home before she gets worries and starts calling Miguel about your late return back home.” He gives the teen a nudge on the shoulder and tussling his hair on the way over to Miguel.
Miles chuckles. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you both tonight!” The teen gives them a small wave before opening a portal back to his universe and heading back home for the day, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on there own.
Y/n walks over to Miguel, standing next to his side and leaning his head against his shoulder. “I think we make great parents.”
“I don’t think sending a kid to fight off four villains is considered good parenting.”
Y/n laughs. “You were there weren’t you? That means that you were keeping an eye on him and making sure that nothing happens to him.” He points out, chin on Miguels shoulder as he watched his husband closely who rolls his eyes at him. Not saying anything and taking his silence as a small victory.
“See, we make great parents!” Y/n says with a huge smile.
Miguel can only sign deeply. “Rio is going to kill us.”
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asratery · 10 months
Text
Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Man!Male Reader
You were a member of the spider society, rising quickly to be part of the small circle of Miguel’s most valued members due to your agility and strength even with your strong, tall stature. You and Miguel had a complicated relationship. At least on his end. The man was curious about your quiet nature and selfless behavior. You were a man of few words, being both a Spider-Man as well as hosting a symbiote from your world. You had a dedication to the cause that could compare with Miguel, even placing it over your physical health. Today, Miguel’s carelessness as well as your lack of self care would hit you like a truck.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
cw: masturbation (male), hand obsession, size diff (mentioned), sexual tension (?), sexual implications, use of y/n
Please give criticism 🙏 this is my first time writing as a whole so I’m so sorry if the format is weird and/or if the summary is ass. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG (imo) SO I APOLOGIZE. 😭 And pls tell me if i should make a part two. (edit: okay, i calculated and its 5.2K words lmao... my bad)
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You don’t remember the last time you visited HQ or even your own dimension. You’d been traveling to various earths and hunting down located anomalies per Miguel’s order.
Your physical conditions were never a worry to you while on your expeditions, simply stitching up whatever injuries you endured before carrying on. Miguel would protest to this behavior of yours, requesting that you return back to HQ for proper medical attention, but you’d quickly dismiss his precautions, having Venom keep your injuries wrapped under it’s tar-like material to avoid bursting any stitches when you were busy tackling your objectives.
You rarely fully involved Venom in your missions. It never objected to your request to remain tucked away while you worked, understanding that you preferred to rely on your own strength to take down opponents.
Miguel sent you on a new array of missions about two weeks ago. They were rather easy for someone of your skill, though it did get annoying when one enemy turned into two, then three, and so on in just one mission. These hiccups never stunted your performance, but they didn’t fail to stress Miguel out. You didn’t fully understand why the man was so anxious whenever you’d go on your missions. He never showed the same worry for the other members of the Spider Society, so what was so different about you?
Miguel had been spending most of his days in his office since you left, his earpiece being filled with the sounds of battle as you took down anomalies on the other end. You preferred not to speak, but with Miguel’s insistence, you were forced to make some noise for him every so often to ease his nerves, whether it be a grunt or a hum. Depending on your mood, some days you’d find it to be overbearing and on better ones, you’d find it to be almost comforting.
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‘What is wrong with me.’ Miguel thought to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d been sitting in his office chair, clicking around on his keyboard as he watched your marker on the map traveling miles in minutes as you moved around a random Earth, searching for a rumored anomaly. Everything had been going well until he’d heard you breathing heavily on the other end as you stopped to rest for a moment, you raspy pants tickling his ear. He’d immediately dismissed Lyla as he felt his pants tighten at the noises you made, resting his hand over the forming tent in his suit. Fuck, he had to hear your voice. He needed to.
“Y/n? You alright?” Miguel spoke through the earpiece, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Y/n didn’t reply with words, opting to hum in acknowledgement. No, that wasn’t enough for Miguel. “Y/n?” Y/n groaned in annoyance at his insistence, but the noise was like heaven in Miguel’s ear. Much more than what he was requesting. “I’m fine.” Y/n replied curtly before continuing his search, his stationary marker starting to move on the map again.
Miguel’s mind was already wandering when he heard y/n groan, but hearing your voice after radio silence for days? He already had a fantasy forming in his head now. There were too many days where you’d hover over him as he briefed you on an upcoming mission, his mind muddled with ideas of you bending him over the table, ripping his suit open and just fucking him over the surface. “Y/n.” Miguel unintentionally groaned out as he pulled his pants down just enough to release his cock from its confines.
“Hm?” Y/n responded in an undertone, oblivious to the intentions behind Miguel’s voice. Miguel pressed a hand over his mouth. He didn’t mean to call your name aloud. “Y-You’re approaching the signal.” Miguel spoke quickly, his heart fluttering at his slip up. You hummed in acknowledgment, a bit confused on why he had to announce it since he equipped your wristwatch with a mini map, but you dismissed it. Miguel quickly muted his mic on the earpiece to avoid making the same mistake. He looked down at his semi, the cool air making it all the more sensitive.
He dipped one of his hands down, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock as the other turned the volume up on his earpiece, listening to your heavy breathing as you swung through an abandoned city. “Fuck, please.” Miguel murmured under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hand down his length, imagining your larger, calloused hands in its place.
He had to lower the volume of his earpiece to near silence, the sound of the wind hitting your side of the mic disrupting his thoughts. Miguel lightly gripped his cock, sliding his hand back up to the tip, a bead of pre forming at the motion. Gods, he needed to just tell you, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. You were nearly ten years younger than him, being only 23 years old compared to his 30 years of age. You wouldn’t want someone as old as him, much less a man. You probably had women clinging to your arms in your world, and the thought evoked a flare of jealousy in his chest.
Fuck, what would you think of him if you saw him like this? Thrusting into his hand at just the sound of your voice and faraway fantasies.
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You’d been making rounds around this damned city. The place was desolate but somehow a fellow spider managed to spot an anomaly when they accidentally entered in the wrong number in an attempt to portal to their own world. Your wristwatch was picking up on a thermal presence, yet you just couldn’t find it. ‘I swear, if it’s underground, I’m dragging Miguel here to take care of this, multiverse be damned.’ You thought to yourself as you swung between rusting skyscrapers.
Your thoughts were cut off by your watch beeping, detecting a thermal signal in close range. That’s weird. You’d already scoured this area. It must’ve moved in the time that you were on the other side of the city. Your eyes were focused on the watch too closely to notice another presence approaching your side. Another anomaly. Wonderful.
Your senses kicked off but it wasn’t as quick as this creature. You were already airborne before you were launched through the window of a skyscraper you were passing, a rib cracking under the pressure your left side endured. ‘Light work.’ You thought to yourself as you kicked up off the floor of the office level you landed in, planting your feet down before launching out the side you were thrown into. You swung your way up to the roof of the high rise, your eyes scanning the surrounding area for the anomaly.
A figure darted across the street below, prompting you to jump off. You never voiced it, but you always loved the adrenaline rush that came with hunting down anomalies. You were a bit surprised at the lack of noise on Miguel’s side of the earpiece, but the thought was quickly brushed aside as you broke your fall with your webs before running into the building the figure was seen entering, your watch leading the way. You ran down multiple sets of stairs, the rapping of the creatures claws along the tiled floor guiding you along.
You shot a web at the side of the creature from the top of the stairway before it could round a corner. You yanked it towards you, disregarding the fact that your feet lost contact with the floor as the two of you met in the middle, tumbling down the stairwell with your bulky arms wrapped around the damned thing. You were able to land a few punches against the hybrid’s feathered body before you were forced to focus on its talons sinking into the muscles of your thigh. You hissed in pain, forming claws on your own hands with Venom’s help before gripping its ankle with one hand and stabbing your claws into the scaled skin above it.
The fucking thing screeched and gods was it loud, nearly forcing Venom to recede back into you before it used its other clawed foot to hit your chest, slamming your back into the stairwell. You gritted your teeth in pain, a drip of blood dripping down your mask from the cut on your brow due to the previous fall. The creature rounded the corner immediately, disappearing from your sight. ‘Of course it’s smart.’ You thought to yourself begrudgingly, your muscles a bit tense from the mission you just pursued prior to entering this world. “Miguel.” You spoke into your mic. No response. No time to wait.
You quickly got to your feet before darting around the corner, suddenly realizing the setting. Of course it lured you to a fucking subway. You were quick on your feet, jumping down to the railway platform before darting down the tunnel, your sharp ears picking up on the sound of the creature’s claws scratching against the metal of the railing as it ran from you. You’d ran so far that you made it to another underground subway stop, spotting a new creature lingering in the area.
‘Here’s the second fucker.’ You thought to yourself as Venom reformed claws around your fingers. You jumped from the railway up to the tiled floor of the platform. The creature spotted you, quickly leaping at you as you returned the gesture. You noted the difference in strength in this one compared to the first anomaly you came across, easily overpowering this one. Just when you were about to sink your claws into its neck, you were launched off to the side, slamming into a solid wall behind you. Another rib cracked at the impact. Wonderful.
The first bastard was back. The two creatures stood side by side as you used the wall as support to rise to your feet. The two freaks of nature stalked around you before launching forward.
“Venom.” You growled out. It didn’t hesitate, enveloping your body in its black tar-like body. You immediately threw the stronger one back, sending it over the platform and onto the railway as you focused your attention on the weaker anomaly.
You were able to land a multitude of hits on this one, weakening it. Just when you were about to stab your claws into its chest, the stronger one recuperated, releasing a deafening scream that incapacitated you, forcing Venom to recede back inside you. The ground shook from the scream, the beams at the subway shaking as dust fell from the ceiling.
‘Fuck, I need to focus on that one or this rusty building is going down on all three of us.’
You were alone now, the scream forcing Venom to retreat. You made circles with the creature, the weaker of the two still recovering on the floor. You made the first move, webbing the feet of the anomaly to the floor before landing a kick straight in its chest.
The creature slammed against another beam. Fuck. Bad move. The ceiling shook again, an unsettling sound of creaking above them. The building was going to collapse at this rate. You needed to keep these two down here while getting back to ground level so you wouldn’t get stuck or worse, killed under the rubble.
“Miguel.” Silence. What the fuck was he doing right now? Just when you were about to approach the now weakened anomaly, you felt the muscle in your thigh tense. You dropped one knee, accidentally slamming it against the tiled floor. You gritted your teeth, the muscle cramping from overworking yourself. Miguel had warned you, and now you were experiencing the outcome. In the midst of Venom attempting to reform around you, you were tackled from behind. The second one was back up.
You swung your now clawed fingers back, moving to plunge your hand into the chest of this anomaly. You were cut short as the other let out another ear-piercing screech, forcing Venom to retreat yet again. The entire bottom level shook now. ‘This building’s going down.’ You thought to yourself. “Miguel,” you shouted into the earpiece, “I need backup, I’m under the apartment buildi—,” your words were cut short as the infrastructure gave out, sending you into darkness.
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Miguel was in the midst of cleaning himself up when he heard the low sound of a rumble on the other side of his earpiece. He immediately raised the volume on his earpiece. ‘Shit, shit shit,’ he though to himself, ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’ “Y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel quickly spoke into the mic, turning Lyla back on. Lyla’s hologram reappeared, about to crack a joke before noticing Miguel’s panicked expression as he looked at his monitors, rapidly typing on the keyboard. “Shit—Lyla, call Jess and Hobie to HQ now,” he said quickly before shouting into the earpiece, “Y/n, give me a status update!” Silence. A deadly silence that was interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of a weak wheeze. Y/n.
“Fuck, y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel spoke quickly into his earpiece as he connected the audio to a walkie-talkie. Jessica entered Miguel’s office, Hobie following a few feet behind her. You couldn’t get a word out, a piece of rubble pressing against your torso, cutting your breaths short. Another weak wheeze, this time coming from the walkie. Jessica froze at the noise before quickly swinging up to Miguel’s platform. “Who is that? Is that—Don’t tell me that’s y/n.” She said quickly. Hobie was already analyzing the holographic map on Miguel’s desk, typing the coordinates for your marker into his wristwatch before creating a portal. “Let’s go.”
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You let out another weak wheeze, groaning in pain when the rubble shifted. Your right ankle was stinging, likely sprained, and your knee cap fractured from it hitting the tiled floor prior to the collapse. Your side felt wet and the rebar poking out of a chunk of concrete next to you easily explained why. The screech from the anomaly must’ve ruptured an eardrum, since you could feel the ticklish trickle of blood leaking out of your ear. Your earpiece was knocked out, hidden somewhere in the rubble that pinned you down as you heard the distant sound of Miguel’s panicked voice coming from it. ‘Wonderful timing, boss.’ You thought to yourself as you let out a pained coughed, your throat coated in dust. Your vision started to fade in the midst of you trying to count how many fractures your ribs incurred.
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The trio wasn't enough to get you out of the rubble, having to call over a dozen other spider people to aid in the search for you. The only thing keeping Miguel’s hopes up was the presence of a pulse that your wristwatch was picking up, Lyla closely monitoring it for any changes as per Miguel’s orders. He could feel his heart cracking at the edges at the sight of a few spider people gently pulling your unconscious body from under the rubble. They immediately applied pressure to your side due to a large gash from a piece of rebar as Miguel quickly opened a portal back to HQ, rushing you to the medical wing of the building.
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Your eyes were hazy when you opened them, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright hospital lights, though the dizziness stayed. You reached a hand up to the nasal cannula, taking note of the tug from the IV in your arm. An IV. A cannula. Bright lights. You hated hospitals with a passion. You shot up in the bed, your body wracked with pain from both a terrible concussion as well as the broken ribs. Strong hands firmly gripped your shoulders, gently guiding you to lay back down on the bed as a soothing voice murmured to you, though you couldn't make out the words. You complied, reluctantly, though majorly because you didn't have the strength to protest.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on a breathing technique to try and ease some of the pain from your array of broken and fractured ribs, though the pain was still agonizing even when you inhaled. Thank god for your pain tolerance, or this could be a lot more unbearable than it already is. You could faintly hear Miguel's unintelligible voice, but he kept a low tone to accomodate your ruptured eardrum. You felt soft fingers stroking the top of your left hand. Jess. She was on your left, Miguel on your right. You could feel a weight on your left leg. Pavitr. Gods, the boy looked up to you like you were an older brother to him. You couldn't imagine how stressed he must be to see you in this state.
You opened your eyes again after about ten minutes, slowly blinking as you let your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting above you. After you finally gained a good enough level of clarity, your sharp eyes began darting around the room, grabbing every little detail you could pick up without tilting your concussed head. You made eye contact with Jessica, who was tracing soft patterns into your forearm as she looked at you, a soft look in her eyes. She was like an older sister to you in a way, and even though you never acknowledged this, she knew.
Your eyes shifted over to Pavitr, who was sat in a chair closer to the end of the bed, practically hugging the lower half of your left leg. You had a brace around your right ankle and could feel the tight gauze wrapped around your thigh, hidden under the blankets. Your abdomen felt very snug, being tightly wrapped in gauze as well due to what you assumed was that wet feeling on your side from when you were under the rubble. The cut on your brow had a stitch and your lip was busted.
You could feel the tickle of Miguels breath against your upper arm, but you never looked over at him. His left hand was gripping your thick tricep like a lifeline while his right remained intertwined with yours. You refused to look at the man, and rightfully so. Had he been paying attention instead of getting distracted by god knows what, you wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation. "Summary?" You asked Jessica in a raspy voice, your eyes were half-lidded as they focused on Pavitr's sleeping figure.
Miguel answered for Jessica. It ticked you off. You didn't want to hear his voice right now. "Sprained ankle, laceration in your right side, two fractured ribs, three broken, grade three concussion, gash in your right thigh, fractured knee cap, and a few cuts and bruises," Miguel replied quickly, "your lung collapsed, so you had a chest tube in but it was removed yesterday morning." You had a question on the tip of your tongue, but you knew Miguel would answer it before Jess could. "You've been out for six days." Miguel murmured, unknowingly answering said question. "We were worried sick." Bullshit. You had to resist the urge to say it aloud. This wouldn't have happened had he been paying attention and heard at least one of your three call outs.
Jess could see the anger flickering in your narrowed eyes as you focused on Pavitr again in an attempt to calm your nerves. She could feel your fingers twitching against her hand as you took quiet breaths. She was sure Miguel could feel the motions in your fingers too, since the man had his hand tightly threaded with yours. You didn’t have energy to be angry right now. You could feel a wave of exhaustion coming over you, making your eyelids heavier than they already were. You succumbed to the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.
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‘He didn’t even look at me.’ Was a repetitive thought in Miguel’s head over the next few weeks. He took notice in that behavior. How could he not? He didn’t blame you, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a flicker of jealousy when he saw you and your goddamn face on the cameras and how you looked at all the spider people who visited you with kindness. You even gave little smiles to a few with that pretty face of yours—Fuck, he needed to talk about that.
Miguel didn’t get too many chances to visit you throughout the weeks and when he did manage to, you were already asleep by the time he got there. He’d pull a chair next to your bed, staring at you in ways he didn’t could only dream of compared to when you were awake. He'd spend a few hours every other night just… analyzing you. Counting every vein that traveled up your forearm, staring at the thick lashes on your lower waterline, the broad chest that peeked out of your hospital shirt—Gods, how could you be equal parts pretty and handsome?
Tonight was the same routine, Miguel had snuck into the medical wing way past visiting hours, slinking into your hospital room. He stood in the doorway, listening to the quiet whistling sound your nose made when you inhaled as confirmation that you were asleep. He stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him before grabbing a chair at the entry, picking it up and gently setting it on the floor at your bedside.
He took a seat before pulling a small metal object from his pocket. A nail clipper. Miguel had noticed that your nails had gained a bit of length, not much, but enough for him to notice. Definitely not because he wanted a reason to touch your hands. He carefully sat himself on the edge of your hospital bed before gently lifting your hand that still had an IV in it.
The horny bastard nearly moaned at how heavy your hand felt in his. How were you so strong? You barely had free time to work out with how often you were hunting anomalies and there was no way chasing those guys alone would be enough, right? He carefully set your hand on his thigh, the warmth emitting from you causing a smile to spread across his face. Gods, this felt wrong.
The room was silent besides the occasional clicking noise of the nail clipper as he worked through your first hand, making sure to carefully round the edges of your nails. Your hands were so nice, saliva pooling in Miguel’s mouth that he had to swallow down as he ran the pads of his fingers over every vein that traveled up the top of your hand. His mind was wandering and god your fingers were thick. The thoughts came before he could stop them, imagining you sliding your heavy digits into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before sliding them inside him one by one—
Miguel leaned over you, gently lifting your untreated hand to rest in his before he began repeating the same ministrations he gave to the first. The closer proximity made the scent of you in his nose even stronger. Your musk was a bit of everything: comforting, arousing, warm, familiar. If he could have it as a cologne, he would. ‘Fuck, is something wrong with me?’ Miguel thought to himself as he leaned towards you, his nose inching closer to the pulse in your neck.
He couldn’t help himself, gently laying your hand back in its original position before dipping down, pressing his nose against the delicate skin of your neck. ‘Something’s wrong with me.’ He inhaled deeply, having to suppress a moan in his throat at the smell of you. He planted his hands next to your hips. Oh my god, speaking of which, your hips just seemed to move so fluidly with you when you walked. It wasn’t like you were just blatantly swaying them, but Miguel noticed the way they seemed to rise and lower in sync with your bulky thighs as you moved around his office.
‘You’re tempting me on purpose, you have to be.’ Miguel thought to himself as he indulged further, letting the tip of his cold nose press against the side of your throat as he breathed you in. ‘I’ve never acted like this about anyone in my life before. Why’re you so easy to obsess over?’ Miguel found himself watching the medical wing’s security cameras in his time, watching as you walked in the hall with Jess, using the wall as a slight support. You looked like a leviathan in the hallway, your tall, broad stature taking up a large portion of the hall and dwarfing Jessica. You had no idea how arousing just the sight of you was.
Miguel’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of your firm, calloused hands wrapping around his waist, spreading your warmth to those areas. Miguel nearly choked on his breath, absolutely refusing to meet your gaze right now. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. God no. You just caught him in the fucking act.
Miguel kept his head tucked under your chin, a warm feeling coiling in his gut at the realization that your hands wrapped nearly entirely around his waist. How the hell was that even possible? The man was 6’9 yet you managed to make him feel small. How were you even possible? Oh my god, he couldn’t even imagine the view you’d get if you were to wrap those hands around his waist, keeping him in place as you pounded into hi—
“Miguel.”
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You felt your hand twitch at the feeling of something cold brushing against your neck. A nurse? Or maybe just a nip of the cold breeze that carried throughout the wing? Nope. ‘Y/n.’ You weren’t thinking that. Why would you repeat your own name? Oh right, you aren’t alone in your body. ‘Venom?’ There was a moment of silence in your conscious. ‘That… man is here again. The human. The weird one.’ ‘Miguel?’ A beat of silence yet again. Venom didn’t like saying the man’s name, preferring to lightheartedly insult him when describing him. You’d always brushed off Venom’s insistence that Miguel had a thing for you. ‘He’s touching you. Again.’ It’s voice was a hiss. ‘What?’
You woke up before you could get a response, your eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, Miguel’s sturdy figure illuminated by the moonlight peeking into the room. You could feel him twitch and his breath catch when you wrapped your hands around his noticeably narrow waist. Why you chose his waist, you didn’t know, the motion being almost instinctual. You could tell he didn’t want to look at you. How could he, when you just caught him practically burying his face into your neck? You had to break the silence, as much as you hated speaking.
“Miguel.”
Silence in response to your husky voice. You slid your hands up his waist, gripping the sides of his chest before pulling him away, taking note of how your thumbs pressed into the plump edges of his pecs. Miguel’s eyes were trained on your neck as his hands rested against the large muscle of your shoulders. His face was red. So red. This wasn’t Miguel. This didn’t look like the man who so easily scolded others and had a resting bitch face for hours on end. Or at least it didn’t look like it.
“Miguel.”
Your voice was a lot firmer this time, catching Miguel’s full attention as he slowly looked up at you, an innocent look in his eyes. Who was this? Surely this wasn’t the leader of the Spider Society in your hospital room. Who was this little minx that slinked into your room while you were unconscious? “Explain yourself.” You wanted to say more, but the soreness of your throat said otherwise. “I-I was cutting your nails.” Miguel’s voice was shaky. You never heard the man like this before. “And?” You asked inquisitively. He was silent, his eyes darting between each of your sharper ones. “And I was… checking your pulse…?” Miguel’s voice was nearly silent now, an obvious hesitation in his voice.
“You’re a wonderful liar, boss.” You stared him down, your piercing gaze practically demanding an answer. “I was smelling you.” He whispered it so quietly, you almost didn’t pick it up with your still recovering eardrum. “Why?” “Because… because I missed you.” Miguel’s voice was a murmur. Missed you? Why the hell did he miss you? “You wouldn’t miss me if you had been paying attention.” You had to address the elephant in the room.
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“Y/n—” “No. Explain to me. Because I called out to you thrice and I got zero response.” Not now, not yet. Miguel wanted this conversation to wait till you were fully recovered. His eyes darted to the door he came in through, but you quickly caught on, sliding your hands down to his waist again and tightening your grip. Oh fuck, Miguel had to suppress a whimper at the feeling. “I-I was busy with Lyla and—” “It’s an earpiece. You would’ve heard me. Meaning you either removed it or muted it. Explain why.” “Y/n, please, you should really just—” “What were you doing that was so important?”
Miguel’s mind was reeling. A part of him wanted to run from this conversation but the other was loving the sound of your voice and the feel of your firm grip on his waist. “Y-You should just go back to be—” “Shut up.” Gods, you had an authority in your voice that silenced him immediately. The feeling of your firm finger wrapped around his waist had him tensing his arms, pleading with his body to send the rushing heat elsewhere.
“Miguel. I will tell Lyla to pull up the cameras in your office myself. Or I’ll send Venom to.”
There was no running from this. No way in hell. “I-I was touching myself.” There. It was out now. He said it. Were you happy? Who knows, cause Miguel screwed his eyes shut the moment he said it. “Touching yourself…” Your voice was lower, and had a hint of anger and confusion in it. “Yes.” Miguel practically gasped out the word, his face flaming in his embarrassment. He’d rather just tell the man then have him watch it himself on the cameras. “You expect me to believe that? That you were touching yourself? We were talking and then suddenly you went radio si—…Miguel.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You connected the dots. Miguel wanted to crawl into a hole.
“Explain it. Now.” Miguel was quick in his response. “Y-You were breathing, and every fucking piece of audio was picked up, and-and I felt this heat in me. And then you groaned and I just—I just…” Your grip tightened around his waist again and Miguel couldn’t help it, letting out a soft whimper at your touch. “You couldn’t help yourself.” You murmured. Miguel nodded his head in shame, opening his eyes again, though they remain focused on your neck again.
“Miguel.” His eyes snapped up to yours, an unmistakable heat in your husky voice. “Go lock the door.”
Miguel stood so quickly that the chair next to your bed nearly got knocked over.
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So… are we feeling a part two? 😏 or was this ass? Cause I’ll stop rn. Lmao.
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