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#miguel o’hara x you
teenidlegirl · 9 hours
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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓓𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝓦𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝓜𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 .ᐟ
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. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, sfw, established relationship
( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ thinking about what it’d be like going to disneyland with miguelito. a little self indulgent since i’ve been to disneyland numerous times. enjoy some disney fluffiness. ♡
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⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel would wear a mickey cap with either a star wars or marvel shirt and pants. you’d wear classic minnie ears with a cute outfit.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ sometimes you two would wear matching mickey and minnie hats on other visits.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel double checks if you two have everything you need. water bottles, sunscreen, wipes (that mf is a clean freak), hand sanitizer. he would ask a million times if you have the tickets, which is on the disneyland app on your phone. he just wants to make sure they don’t get lost and the day isn’t ruined because you two look forward to it.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates the mickey and friends tram station because he feels so cramped due to his bulky figure. he has to slouch a little, trying not to bump his head on the roof (he has several times before).
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you secretly take pics of him when miguel isn’t looking. you can’t help it because he’s so cute, especially in that mickey hat.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ you also take occasional selfies. of course you take a picture in front of the castle.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always has a hand on you. hand holding, on your waist, hip, or the small of your back. mainly hand holding or his hand on your waist.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel is very protective of you, he already is, but especially when you’re walking through a sea of people. he shoots a glare at anyone who bumps into you, especially if they don’t apologize and keep on walking. he tries to be calm and civil, not wanting to cause an outburst and ruin your day.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ this dude HATES long lines. miguel would complain how stupidly long the lines are. moping and groaning but has to suck it up because he knows how much you want to go on those rides. to make it fun, you do the most cliche thing and play heads up on your phone. miguel would get pissed off when he doesn’t get the answer right, making you laugh.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ his favorite area is tomorrowland since it resembles a bit of neuva york. the futuristic scenery and aesthetic. such a big nerd he is.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he always gets caught off guard on space mountain because how fast it is. right after that right turn before taking off, he always get startled. he also forgets the camera towards the end of the ride. his eyes widen and mouth wide open in shock. he gets flustered and embarrassed when you take a picture of it. “can’t you not.” “too late, tonto.”
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ pizza planet is your guys’ go-to for either lunch or dinner because the pizza is bomb.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel loves star tours and buzz lightyear ride. during buzz lightyear, you two get very competitive on who gets the most points. he freaks out and nearly falls out when you move the seat with the lever. you laugh and make fun of him.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after star tours, miguel goes on full geek mode and ventures around the entire store that you enter right after the ride. a smile forms on your face as you watch your cute geeky boyfriend gazing at all the merchandise. if you’re a star wars fan (i am lol), you’ll geek out with him and babble about the merch. you never leave the store without miguel buying something. a simple shirt or hat.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel HATES the teacups. he begs you to not go on it but obviously loses. you go on it just to purposefully mess with him. if you’re a crazy person (like me), you’ll spin that shit like crazy. poor miguel holds on for dear life, on the verge of trying not to puke while you’re laughing at his reaction. after getting of the ride, he has to take a minute to breathe before moving on. he hates spiny rides.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he isn’t a fan of fantasyland since it’s mainly for kids and slow rides. but if you wanna go on some rides there, he’ll do it for you. will never admit but he does like alice in wonderland, probably the only ride he likes there. he feels squished in those rides since they’re so small and he’s too bulky.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ after much convincing and begging, miguel takes a shot at the sword in the stone. with rolled eyes and a light scowl in his face, he tries pulling the sword with some strength, not all. shockingly, the swords lifts up from the stone. the public and crew applaud him for successfully pulling the sword. you reward him with kisses over his face, making miguel a bashful mess but loves it so much.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ thunder mountain is definitely a favorite of his (mine too hehe). the line might be a pain but it’s definitely worth it because the ride is amazing.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ matterhorn not so much because the seats are so small, he can barely fit in it. feels so cramped and uncomfortable. another reason he doesn’t like it as much is because it’s a single seat so he can’t sit next to you. before and after the ride, you two hold hands over each other’s seats, depends if you’re in front or behind him, because you know how clingy he is. it makes your heart flutter, he’s so cute.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ bro gets so excited when you head to galaxy’s edge. while holding your hand, he leads you around the area. stares in awe at the scenery and aesthetic. definitely buys merch from there.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ remember how much he hates long lines? oh he almost lost it while waiting for rise of the resistance. playing heads up or just talking with you makes it better. but it’s all worth it in the end. definitely one of his favorite rides.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely hates water rides. don’t even bother convincing him to go on splash mountain because he ain’t getting on it. he hates being wet.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel really likes haunted mansion not only for the spooky atmosphere but because it’s so dark that you two cuddle in the fake coffin without anyone noticing. during the elevator, he holds you close so he doesn’t lose you in the sea of people. his strong beefy arms securely wrapped around you.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he hates water rides but pirates is an exception because it’s that not bad. he forgets the three drops, especially the first one. a big pout settles on his face when he gets splashed with water.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ he makes fun of you for saying how much you love the smell of water in pirates.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ indiana jones is another favorite. besides the long tedious line, miguel loves it. he always makes sure you sit in the middle and him on the outside. shows how protective he is of you.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ definitely gets hungry after a long period of time. you two stop at the nearest restaurant.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ miguel tries out the shooting exposition just to impress you. unfortunately, he misses almost every target and is now embarrassed as hell. turns out you’re the one to impress him because you manage to get every target. bro was astonished.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ during the fireworks, miguel has his arms wrapped around you and chin resting on the top of your head as you two watch the fireworks. when it’s over, you two share a kiss as the final touch.
⠀♡ ˖ ࣪ ༘⠀ when your feet start to hurt, miguel doesn’t hesitate to carry you despite your protests. he whispers, “just a man carrying his princess.”
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ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @yougavemeyourheartyouknow (i kept my promise to tag you for this ! <3)
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
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cottonconnielvr · 10 months
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“Say please”
Miguel said as he pounded his cock deeply into you. His eyes are fixated on your boobs that bounce up and down. He’s hitting your cervix so deeply, you can’t take it. Your arms gripped at the sheets, begging for mercy.
“Miggy I can’t take it!”
“t-too much!”
He only shook his head at you. “Say please baby” He challenges as he pound into you harder. He watches as all thoughts evaporate from your pretty little head. Your mouth is open agape and you can’t even bring yourself to moan. The feeling is just so good. Miguel is so big and stretches you out, his cock creating a visible bulge.
He knows you can’t say please if you wanted to. He’s purposely fucking the words right out of you.
“Awww,can’t say please baby? I guess I can’t stop and give you a break”
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beautysamour · 9 months
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miguel accidentally overstimulating himself not realizing that his breeding kink kicked in 🤲🧎‍♀️
overstimulation with miguel o’hara ❤︎
— a/n: oh my
warnings ゚𐦍༘⋆: some vulgar language, mentions of having kids during sex
“Mi—Miguel,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, “‘s—‘s too much? Ah—are you oh—okay?”
You shudder in unison as he pumps another load of his cum into your drenched pussy.
“I’m fi—fine,” he stutters as his dick twitches. It hurts—he’s sensitive—but it’s not enough. He hasn’t given you enough.
A broken mewl escapes you as your head hits the headboard, Miguel tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from slipping off his cock as his hips stutter through his thrusts.
His visions blurs as you clench around his dick—he was surprised he was still able to move.
He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.
You’re both covered in sweat, and cum, and saliva. You feel hot, the silk bedsheets Miguel bought does nothing to cool you down, and your head is spinning. Your heart pounds in your chest as your body tenses—you were about to cum again, and your pussy wanted to cry.
“Miguel,” you whimper, “‘m close, Miguel, ‘m close,” you whine. His dick deliciously rubs against your walls as he sticks his thumb into your mouth—your head hits the headboard.
“I know mami—me too.” Your head hits the headboard again, “Gotta fill you up again, don’t you want that? Gonna make you feel good, I promise mami, I promise.”
“Mig—“ he pushes his thumb down on your tongue.
“‘m gonna make you feel so good, mami,” he starts to babble, “Gonna feel so good.”
Somehow every movement he made was even more intense, you could feel every vein, every twitch, every—everything. He became more precise, every thrust ended with him hitting your g—spot, you were never sure if that was going to be the moment you came.
“Miguel—,” you babble, sucking his thumb. “‘m gonna cum, right there Miguel, I’m gonna—“
His thrusts became erratic, the feeling of your warm pussy engrains itself in his memory.
He’d definitely be going back to this memory.
“Wait for me mami, I’m almost there too,” he grabs one of your hands, bringing it close to his mouth, and he presses his lips against your wrist. “Gonna make you a mother, yeah?”
You bite his thumb.
He presses a hand against your stomach as the bed creaks, “Make me a father?”
His hips stutter as you moan around his thumb.
You avoid eye contact as he leans over you, the pure devotion in his eyes makes you feel tingles in your stomach—and make you feel even more of that in your pussy.
“Look at me when you come mami, pl—please. Need you too.”
You didn’t expect it to happen that quickly when you looked at him.
Miguel looks down at you with lust blown eyes, his hair drops down from his face, and his mouth hangs open—the hand holding your wrist shaking. He slowly thrusts into you as he came inside you—your own cum mixed with his leaking around his dick.
His chest goes up and down as he heavily breathes—fuck was he beautiful as always.
He dips his head pressing a quick sloppy kiss onto your lips, “You’re leaking.”
You laugh, “It’s your fault.”
You expect him to laugh, to take it as a joke and then pick you up to go take a relaxing bath and cuddle for the rest of night—but he doesn’t.
“Oh,” he purrs, “Well, I should fix my mistake, shouldn’t I?”
He drops your wrist and focuses on your left boob, he pinches your nipple—you moan softly.
You wince in unison when he starts to move his hips again, his free hand trailing down to your waist from your stomach, “Ha—have to make sure none of my cum goes to waste, right mami? Can’t risk you not getting pregnant.”
Tears weld in his eyes, your pussy hurts as you pulse around him. He lets out a weak breath, “You want me to cum in you again, right?”
Your head hits the headboard once more as he thrusts get stronger.
It hurts, you’re too sensitive, and you’re positive he is too—yet he’s right. You do want that, you want him.
With a broken, hoarse voice, you say “Yes.”
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inkdrinkerworld · 10 months
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idk if it’s weird but do you know that thing where you grab your boobs for comfort?? imagine doing that to miguel 😭😭
omg omg😭😭
you're laying in bed unable to fall asleep when it happens. your hand just creeps up his shirt.
miguel doesn't think much of it, you like the skin in skin contact- so does he.
it's when your hand hovers just under his pectorals that he turns to you and raises an eyebrow.
he's still working, hair tired back with one of your scrunchies and his tablet looks tiny in his massive hand. he'd been trying to hypothesise a re-calibration to his nano-bots all day.
"what do you want?" he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.
your eyes are barely even open, your face turned to face his bicep. "can't sleep," you murmur, planting your hand on his chest and squeezing.
"oye," he bats at your hand when you do it a second time. you groan when his hand removes yours from under his shirt.
"miguel," you whine, drawing the syllables of his name out long.
"amor," he mocks your exact tone. "why're you grabbing my chest?" he drops your hand and cups your face, guiding your tired eyes to rest on his face.
"'cos it's comforting," your words sludge together but miguel makes you out just fine. he cracks a smile, you narrow your barely open eyes; "it is. helps me sleep."
"yeah?" he teases, and you nod. your hand slinks back up his shirt and rests on his chest, for the most part it's just an added heat to miguel's chest. "if you don't fall asleep any faster i'm calling bullshit."
you let out a tired giggle and slobber a kiss to his bicep; miguel waits five minutes and in no time he feels your breathing change- deeper now as you fall asleep.
he can't believe it.
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messylustt · 10 months
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Going without a bra in your spider suit because you only need to report to Miguel and then your changing so why bother? Completely forgetting that you have your nipples pierced, meaning Miguel can see the barbells and your nipples through the skin tight suit. He’s going feral: both because of the image of them and that someone else would have had to see your naked breasts in order to pierce them.
you were pierced where? — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). oml—hfndkkkdkkem.
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miguel was busy, staying distracted with the nearing mission as he listened to lyla. but the moment you walked in, all suited up and ready, his hard gaze and body simultaneously tensed and widened. because what were wearing? your spider suit, yes. but it was what was poking through that caught miguel’s attention. his eyes grew fixated on your tits as you walked in alone, and oblivious. he quickly waved lyla away, jumping down and stepping closer to you.
“what are you wearing? or should I say…what aren’t you wearing?” miguel speaks slowly, and lowly. you glance down at yourself. he’s seeming to really focus in on the fact that your nipples look pierced — the metal bars poking through. you had chosen not to wear anything under your suit today. it was only going to be you and miguel. you glance back up at him. “what? it’s just you this mission.” you say, thinking it’s about the ‘no bra’ situation. but miguel isn’t focusing on the fact that anyone else could see you, because someone else has seen you.
he steps much closer, his gaze hardening again. “when did you get them pierced?” he asks, his teeth grinding. you look down again. “oh…” you drift off. “a few days ago.”
“a few days ago?” miguel reiterates harshly. “and you…what? didn’t think to tell me?”
“well i was gonna tell you. i am telling you. right now.” you smile, and miguel’s lips twitch in a snarl. “no no, you can’t just decide that.”
“what do you mean — ” but your words are dying off because miguel is now breathing over you. his towering position actually making you gulp. “who did it?” he asks.
and his almost calm tone is making your breathing increase. “uh…someone who does piercings…” you say, eyeing him. “look, miguel, it’s not that big of a de — ”
“who. did. them?” miguel interrupts, his red eyes nearly making you flinch. “i didn’t catch his name.” you mutter, moving to bypass miguel. “now, don’t we have a mission — ”
miguel’s hand is now tightly wrapped around your upper arm, halting your movement. “his?” he asks slowly, as you move to step away again, only earning miguel to yank you back into his chest, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “a guy pierced them?” he double checks the fact that is making his claws itch to sink into something. “a professional did.” you point out, grabbing his wrist to remove his hold.
when he doesn’t shift you instead decide to quickly lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips as a small distraction. that gives you a moment of looseness in his wrist, for you to take his hand away, but then miguel is slipping his hand to the back of your neck, drawing you back in for a more heated kiss. his lips drawing you even closer as he nearly snarls past your teeth, tongues clashing.
but then you’re drawing back and miguel has the urge to sink his fangs into your bottom lip, because why were you moving away?“miguel, we’re working.” you quietly say, darting your gaze around as if you’d see gaping spider-people. but miguel is leading you back, the empty office exactly that. empty. his hands are now purchased around your waist, pulling your lower body against his.
“are you sure you can’t give me a name?” miguel has started placing sloppy kisses along your jaw, as your back hits the wall. “hm?” he’d ruin the guy who touched you. he needed something to sink his claws into with all this pent up jealousy. “i told you…i didn’t catch it…it’s not like we grew close — ”
“but that’s exactly what you were.” miguel interrupts, grabbing part of your neck and jaw again as his breath hits your slightly parted lips. “…close. he was especially close. touching you.” his fangs are now visible with how much he spat the words. “that’s what they do, miguel.” you try to console.
“he stayed professional — ” he keeps cutting you off, mouth now up close and open against your own. “but they’re mine, cariño…mine to touch, mine to play with…” his clawed hand moved to trace over your spider suit covered nipples, feeling the metal bar, as you flinch a fraction.
“aw…” he coos. “they feel hard, cariño…” then he’s leaning towards your ear. “were they hard for him?” you shake your head. but miguel persists. “of course they were. i know how sensitive you can be. and by someone touching them, you would have started to feel…hot…down here…” he runs two claws down your stomach and over your pussy, making your hips shift.
“…isn’t that right?” your breathing is shallow, as he goes to rub experimentally through your suit, his lips now re-attaching to your skin, drawing the edge of your suit down to lick at your neck, making your pulse quicken. “next time you want help involving things like this…” his claw dragged back across your nipples. “…you’ll come to me.” he grabs your chin again, forcing you to agree. “won’t you?”
you quickly nod, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. miguel’s lips finally curve up in a smile. “but since he got to see you all flushed and turned on…i get to see you writhing and spread open under me…that’s sounds about right, doesn’t it?…yeah.” miguel moves your head in a nod, before his hand is dropping back to your throbbing pussy. “there’s a good girl…”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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stellaaarree · 11 months
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wanting to see miguel’s fangs.
hands cupping the skin of his cheeks, with the smirk pulling at your plush lips he already knew what was happening, feeling equally embarrassed no matter how many times it had happened, with a coo you speak. “cmonnn, let us see those fangs,hm?” a grumble leaving his mouth as his lips part just enough to see his sharp fangs. “i’ll bite you.” he warns, an empty threat…unless you asked for it. “and paralyse me? no chance.” you snap back in a ‘matter of fact’ way.
thumbs going past his lips with a smile, sharp fangs on view as his red eyes rolled for what felt like the hundredth time. “dios mío.” he groans, voice stupidly muffled by your fingers in his mouth. “shut up you’re gonna spit on me!” you whine, tilting his head up to get a pretty view of the pearly white canines. you had always had a thing for his fangs, wether they where deep in your neck or just subtly on view in a form of intimidation.
“you’re the one with your fingers in my mouth!” he snaps back, words still obviously muffled, trying to keep the spit to a minimum. “but papi,” you smile innocently. the nickname shutting him up real quick, the heat running to his usually stone cold cheeks unavoidable.letting his fangs fully come into view as his talons extended to maximise the ‘experience’ which he only tolerated for the sake of his amor.
finally pulling your thumbs out of his mouth after humming in appreciation. you where like his sweet little dentist, always helping keep those canines as bright and shiny as possible. wiping his saliva on the side of his suit he groans with a “really?” you respond wittily of course. “well it’s yours isn’t it?”
leaning his head up he presses his lips to yours in partly spite, partly love. pulling back breathless after a couple of seconds with a sneaky. “now it’s ours.”
he always had to have the last word.
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buryustogether · 10 months
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imagine being fucked my miguel, your husband, and he’s doing things… different. not bad different. just different. come to think of it, he’s been acting completely off since he got home a few hours ago. but it all just feels too good to say anything, so you let him keep pounding into you.
you’re both so lost you don’t even hear the lock in the front door. the footsteps in the hall. see the man standing in the bedroom doorway - until you do.
it’s miguel - your miguel. the real miguel. shot through the stomach and crudely stitched up, but still alive and kicking - and watching his impostor fuck you into his own bed.
your mind can’t comprehend it.
his can’t either.
he’s delirious, lost too much blood to think properly. he approaches the bed, staring at the alternate version of himself, before he’s slowly sitting and reaching down to rub his thumb at your clit in that certain way that makes you see stars.
“she likes it like this.”
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bruisedboys · 10 months
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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader
summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here
grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff
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implied fem!reader 1.3k words
Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.
“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”
You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.
“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”
Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.
“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.
To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.
“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.
“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”
Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”
Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”
Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.
“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”
Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”
Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.
He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.
“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”
It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”
“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.
Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”
She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.
“What is it, cariño?” He hums.
“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”
Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.
By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.
“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.
Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”
You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.
He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.
“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.
“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.
“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”
Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.
He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.
Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Suit Up
Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.
* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)
Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.
Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.
He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.
Especially you.
His sweet, sweet girl.
So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.
Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.
Or so he hoped.
He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.
“Good morning.”
As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.
A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.
You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.
“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”
His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.
You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.
Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.
He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.
You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.
His cock gave him a warning twitch.
He was all too familiar with those by now.
Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?
He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.
“Miguel?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.
There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.
Apologising for making a mess…
“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”
You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”
Right.
He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”
“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.
His cock twitched again.
“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”
A blatant lie.
He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.
How else would he mark you without you even realising?
You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.
“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”
His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”
Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.
“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”
He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.
You deserved more than a nod.
And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.
It was quite addicting.
He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.
Fuck.
He would teach you all he knew.
You’d have all of him.
But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.
“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”
You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.
“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.
You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.
“Wait, do I have be naked?”
The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”
Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.
You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”
He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.
The reaction was immediate.
Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.
For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.
You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.
He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.
“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.
You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.
“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.
The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.
He needed more.
He needed to touch you.
“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”
He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.
You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.
He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.
“Do you trust me?”
You shouldn’t…
You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”
… because he wouldn’t.
He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.
You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.
You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”
His sweet girl…
How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?
Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.
This was driving him mad.
Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.
You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.
“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” you immediately replied.
Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…
He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.
You’d struggle at first.
But he’d be patient.
He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.
You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.
His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.
Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.
Was this too much?
In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.
He needed you closer.
He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.
He needed you to need him.
You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.
“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.
You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.
Oh, fuck.
He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.
You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.
He wish he could set his cock free.
No.
He wish you would offer to set his cock free.
He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.
“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”
Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?
Against his will, he nodded.
He needed you gone right away.
He had to get off urgently.
“You’re overworking yourself again…”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.
Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”
Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”
Your hand dropped.
Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.
He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.
“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.
Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.
In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.
He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.
“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.
His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.
From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.
That would do.
For now.
Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.
Dangerously close.
It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.
Faint anger took over him.
You should be the one to bring him relief.
This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.
The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.
You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.
You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.
Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.
So eager to please.
He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.
Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.
But he had to get rid of this now.
He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.
Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.
They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.
The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.
Just you.
His sweet girl.
Just his.
He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.
The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.
He would break himself for you.
And you would, too.
You just didn’t know it yet.
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Part 3
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Masterlist
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sweetiecutie · 11 months
Text
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader
Warnings: smut, headlock🤤, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of fluff at the end
A/n: as promised, as soon as I came out of the cinema I started working on this! It’s not as nasty as I wanted it to be, but I’ll work on that🩷
Your bedroom smelled strongly of sex and sweat, loud moans along with praise mixed with degrading were bouncing off the tall walls, surely gaining the two of you a few noise complaints the next day. You were splayed in the middle of your huge queen-sized bed, head pressed into soft pillows and ass high up in the air as your boyfriend was dogging the shit out of you, making sure that your pussy was raw and thoroughly fucked.
You’ve been at it for hours - your sheets were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids, your ass felt hot from all the spanks Miguel generously delivered. Your throat felt sore from all the moaning and previous face-fucking, musky taste of Miguel’s cock still lingered on your tongue. You felt like a rag doll in your lover’s strong arms, too tired to move by yourself, but too greedy for pleasure to actually stop this sweet torture.
Miguel yanked your hips up higher, getting a firm grip on your waist; he shifted a bit, placing one foot on the mattress for better range of movements. A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your kiss-swollen lips as brunette absolutely ravaged you - he pounded your poor dripping pussy with so much vigor that your body shifted forward with each thrust, heavy balls slapping against your clammy skin with loud smacking sounds. Miguel’s large hands moved to smack your pretty ass so it jiggled in his palms, relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh afterwards.
- Just look at this greedy pussy, taking every inch of me like a cock-hungry slut. Bet you were thinking about it whole day long, huh? - Miguel rasped above you, his filthy words caused heat rising up to your cheeks as you buried your face even deeper into soft pillows, but they couldn’t hide your reddened ears form his sharp eyes.
Miguel leaned down, one massive arm sliding underneath your neck, so that your chin was tucked right in the hollow of his elbow; a few moments later your face was squished in between male’s bulking bicep and a thick forearm, trapped in a firm headlock. He put most of his body weight onto your small body, pounding your dripping cunt into the bouncy mattress, stretching you out on his mighty girth, making your eyes roll back in intense pleasure. You felt Miguel’s free hand slipping underneath your tummy, finding your throbbing needy clit in no time and massaging it brutally with rough fingertips, matching the roughness of his hips slamming into you from behind.
- Oh baby, you’re drooling, - Miguel tutted in feigned pity, his hot lips brushing the shell of your ear, making hairs on the back of your neck rise.
His words brought you out of heavy haze of pleasure, bringing some consciousness to your foggy mind. And, indeed, your chin felt cooler because of your drool covering it, some even dribbled down onto Miguel’s arm, getting in between your chin and his inner elbow. Your hands came to his arm around your neck, fingers digging into firm muscles, leaving crescent-shaped marks on scarred skin.
- Mig..uel, I’m-
- Shhh, my love. Don’t you worry, I’ll take good care of you, - Miguel shushed you softly, his hips slapping against your ass with even more vigor, making you momentarily forget whatever it was that you wanted to say.
He hissed as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him, the suckle of your pussy sent his hips bucking and forcing his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. A familiar coil makes itself knows in the pit of your stomach - a telltale sign of your next orgasm approaching rapidly.
- Oh fuck bunny, fuck fuck fuck. Gonna fill that pussy with my cum, full and nice, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? - Miguel rambled next to your ear as his pace became faster and sloppier.
- Pl..ease. Fuck, need.. it. ‘m so close, - you managed to stutter through
Your body prickled with desire and heat, Miguel’s fingers worked diligently on your clit along with his massive cock spreading you open, thick cockhead mushing against all of your sweet spots - he very soon had you cumming all around him, wringing a mind-blowing orgasm out of your exhausted body, your release leaving a noticeable white ring on the base of his dick.
A string or curses and quiet whimpers reached your ears as Miguel’s snapped his hips into yours quickly before stilling completely. Strong shudder ran through male’s massive body and, with a final moan, he shoot his thick cum inside of your fluttering heat, flooding your insides with his warmth.
Miguel went slack against your back, his body mounding against yours as he laid atop of you, making you squeak quietly under his weight. He chuckled airily as he rolled off you to the side, sliding his softening cock out of your bruised pussy. You whined at the feeling of emptiness, warm sperm dripped out in a small dribble, staining your slit and sheets underneath you. Miguel scooped you up in his big arms and maneuvered you to lay on top of his heaving chest, thick fingers tangled in your messy hair, massaging your scalp lovingly.
You took a deep breath, cuddling deeper into your lover’s neck, wrapping one arm around his broad shoulders. Your eyelids felt too heavy and Miguel felt too comfy to lay on, so you were fighting off sleep as much as you could.
- Go to sleep baby, I’ll clean everything up, - you heard a soft murmur, warm lips kissing your forehead in a comforting manner. You hummed in acknowledgment, getting more comfortable in Miguel’s arms.
- Love you, - you whispered tiredly, sleep heavy on your lids.
- Love you too angel
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love🩷🩷
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lilithandherharlots · 11 months
Text
MIGUEL O’HARA BF HEADCANNONS-
•He likes to hide stuff he doesn't like. Dresses that are too short or just not his taste. Food he doesn't like the flavor of. Perfumes with too strong of scents. He won't tell you he doesn't like them, he'll just hide them so you can't find them.... Out of sight, Out of mind.
•He always hides your high heels. Even your kitten heels. Even though he towers over you already, he likes the size difference so much, he doesn't want you to be even an inch taller than you have to be. But he won't argue with you if wanna wear them, he'll just pout in silence.
•The only time he'll tell you he doesn't like something is while fucking you. Telling you he didn't like that shade of red while filling you to the brim from behind. He doesn't want to upset you so he only says that kinda stuff when you're feeling too good to care about the fact that he hid all your low cut tops.
•Miguel's love language is watching you. Watching you while you work, while you cook or while you sleep. Not in a creepy way, he just likes to take in your beauty, studying all your habits. Learning facial expressions you make when you're confused or what your first response is to something surprising. Sometimes you find it strange, but he makes up for it by knowing literally everything about you... even stuff you yourself don't know.
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moonlesslights · 11 months
Text
Miguel O’hara in Love
Headcanons.
━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━
A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.
Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)
This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.
Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.
You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.
And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.
What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.
The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.
He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.
You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.
“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”
You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.
“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.
“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”
“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”
The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.
That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.
“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.
You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.
“For real?”
“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”
His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.
“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.
He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.
Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.
No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.
Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.
Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.
“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.
Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.
History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.
You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.
No. You would never find out about that.
Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.
But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.
“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:
“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.
“I know.”
“You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”
He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.
He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.
“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.
“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.
“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”
That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?
Were you really that bored?
“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.
You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.
“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”
You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.
Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.
He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.
You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?
“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.
He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.
When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
You nod without waiting for another question.
“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.
It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.
Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.
He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal…
Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.
He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.
With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.
“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”
“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.
“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”
Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”
“Miguel…”
“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”
When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.
“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.
“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.
“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.
You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.
It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.
His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.
The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.
“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.
“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.
“Need help?”
You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”
“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.
But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.
You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.
Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.
His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.
“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.
“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”
“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.
But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.
“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.
“I’m…”
“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.
And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.
And then… A call.
He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.
His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.
“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.
“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.
“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”
And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.
“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”
He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.
“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.
“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”
The woman, for the first time, remains silent.
“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”
A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.
She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.
She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.
Miguel wanted to own you.
He wasn’t good at hiding it.
His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.
Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.
But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.
When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.
“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.
He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.
“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.
You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.
The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.
You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.
“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.
“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.
You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.
You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.
But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.
“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.
You nod.
“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.
“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.
He was so close, he just needed…
“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.
You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.
He was ready for the next round.
Thank you so much for coming all this way!
PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.
This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.
I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.
Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3
PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!
PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.
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beautysamour · 9 months
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squirt training with miguel! mommy pleaseee i’m begging on my knees 🤲🏻🧎‍♀️
squirt training with miguel o’hara ⋆⭒˚。⋆
— a/n: ❤︎.
warnings ゚𐦍༘⋆: vulgar language. reader goes into sub space
“Relax, hermosa, you can’t do it if you’re not relaxed.”
You squeeze his fingers—his hand being too big as a whole—once, twice, as you try to stabilize your breathing. You can barely keep your eyes open, you were too overwhelmed, too aware of the little movements, too overstimulated.
Your thighs shake as Miguel spreads them further apart, “Let’s do this one more time.”
It was a blatant lie, he said the same thing an hour ago, or maybe it was two? Three? You don’t remember, your memory was too hazy due to constant pleasure Miguel kept giving you.
Could you blame him though? He’s only trying to help his poor girl.
You squeezed your eyes shut as Miguel dragged one of his long fingers down the middle of your cunt, your pussy clenches onto nothing by default. “Relax,” Miguel purrs.
You think it’s unfair— no, unrealistic for you to be able to relax. Not with your puffy pussy going through the same routine over and over, cumming so aggressively and then getting pet softly, getting the princess treatment until Miguel hits that spot and prods at it hoping that he’ll get drenched in your fluids—but is only met with cum leaking around his fingers.
“‘m trying,” you murmur as tears start to well in your eyes. You want to so badly, to make him happy, to squirt for him and it makes you so sad that all you can do is pitifully cum around his fingers.
Miguel hums and tilts your chin up, “Look at me. Don’t look away, got it?”
Your eyes fluttered shut as he started to rub circles against the folds of your pussy—and opened just as quickly when Miguel lightly hit your chin with his index finger, “I said don’t look away cariño, closing your eyes is looking away.”
A whimper leaves your mouth as Miguel leaned over you, mouth immediately finding that sensitive spot behind your ear and sucks as a finger smoothly slides itself into your cunt.
“Am I understood, hermosa?”
You jolt as Miguel enters another long finger into your cunt. Usually even one of his fingers can fill up all the space in your tight pussy, but not tonight.
He’s loosened it enough for you to be able to take his dick in one go.
“Hermosa,” your eyes widened, body becoming stiff as he hits that spot. “I asked you a question.”
His eyes flicker down to where your pussy and his fingers connect, the pulsing of your cunt distracting him.
He puts in a third finger as he rubs your g-spot, stars enter your vision.
“Yes,” your voice raises as he quickens the pace of his fingers, “Yes! I under—understa—nd.” You gaze into his eyes. Lust and determination is seen in his, desire and pure ecstasy is seen in yours.
“Bueno,” Miguel whispers. He buries his face into your neck, sucking a pretty little hickey for you. “Muy bueno, hermosa.”
A moan rips out your throat, you aren’t sure if it’s because of the praise—or because of how quick Miguel’ fingers are moving in your pussy.
You aren’t able to think much about it, Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, he eyes trained on your cunt as your body starts to arch off the bed. He sets a hand against your stomach, eyes still on your pussy, and pushes you back against the bed.
“Miguel,” you moan, fingers gripping into the sheet as Miguel ignores you. His pace somehow quickens and then—
A hand flies to your back, supporting your body as your body spasms and something that feels different from cum comes out your pussy. Your eyes are on Miguel’ and finally, he’s eyes are on yours—the lust somehow more prominent in his eyes.
He hums as you start to babble in his arms, his fingers still in your pussy—still moving but slower—and he adjusts your body so your sitting in his lap.
You mewl as your head flops down on one of his tits, a sadistic smirk forms on his face as he kisses the top of your head. The squelching of your wet, wet pussy fills the silence along with your soft, somewhat quiet, whimpers.
He massages your nub as your body starts to shake.
“Miguel,” you weakly call out, “Did—did I do it,” you ask looking for praise.
He presses your nub and tilts your head about with his other hand, exposing your hickey to him. He praises himself internally then presses a kiss on your hickey, “Yes, hermosa, you did,” he licks the hickey, “Knew you’d be able to.”
Your pussy flutters around his fingers, the praise going straight to it, until Miguel tilts your head again to make you look at him.
You look at him, doe eyed, as his flicks your nub and presses a kiss onto your puffy lips. You return the kiss immediately—body pressing up against him and hands caressing his abs. His tongue enters your mouth and you don’t resist him at all.
He pulls away leaving a string of saliva connected to you. His dick hardens painfully as he notes the way you look up at him.
He pulls you closer to him with a grunt and slightly quickens the pace of his fingers—your eyes widen in realization, “Do you think you can do it again for me, hermosa?”
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messylustt · 11 months
Note
Ok I absolutely love the way you write-
Imagine you decide to go back to school but like online classes and Miguel would have you cock warming him. And immediately after you hit that ‘end zoom’ or ‘leave classroom video’ he’s absolutely plowing into you like a animal in heat-
distracted in class — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). i cant do this anymore — thank you so much, my loveee.
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your lips are pressed tightly together, as you pretend to nod along to what the teacher is saying. something about the economy? you aren’t sure because all you can focus on is miguel’s cock buried deep inside you. your breathing is stuttering as you try not to move your hips. god, you just wanted to move. either up and down or completely off. because cock warming him like this was too much for your poor brain to train into the lesson on your computer.
you were on miguel’s thighs, the angle of the computer cutting him off, so all appeared innocent. miguel’s mouth was twitching in a snarl to move, because god did he want to just fuck you silly. your warm little hole kept clenching around him, making his grip on your hips tighten to the point of claw marks. “come on…cariño…let me move…i need to fucking move.” his low desperate tone was right by your ear.
“i — i have to focus.” you blink a few times too many, praying the teacher won’t ask you a question. “i cant…dios…i cant.” miguel’s hips had begun to try and move up into you. but with your weight atop of him you managed to not reciprocate. “i need to fuck you.” then finally you can see the lesson wrapping up, as other collage students dropped off the line. and as your hand shifted to tap the ‘end call’ button, miguel’s grip tightened.
“stay fucking still now...” miguel growled out as he thrusted up into your dripping cunt, making a small mewl escape you.
“yeah…that’s it…gonna fuck this pretty little hole that you’ve kept me from feeling…sliding up and down my cock—carajo.” his thrusts are animalistic and feverish, as groans leave him, his hands spreading your thighs further apart as his claws dig into your flesh. his hips movements are making you slightly bounce up and down on his dick.
“you have no idea what that just did to me…” his words are harsh, as he kept you at his mercy. “hours…of being in your pussy and I couldn’t even move…that’s not gonna happen again.” obscene sounds are filling the room, as your hips meet his — still on his lap. his teeth are by your ear as he nips at the skin. “no…next time if I want to be inside you — moving — i will be…and I don’t care if you need to focus, cariño…you just gotta be good and let me move you along my cock…”
“it’s study��i…i have to pay attention.” you manage as your legs shake. “that’s okay…” he coos. “you can be my dumb little slut…actually I’d like that…” he’s breathing harder as his cock twitches. “you can stay my dumb little pet, whose pretty head is filled with me and only me as you let me feel this hole for as long…as I please.”
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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stellaaarree · 11 months
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LOOK AT HIS POUTY LIL LIPS.ABSOLUTELY BEGGING TO BE KISSED!!
teasing miguel hehe! (fluff)
you come in, miguels most likely messing around with his gizmo. propping yourself on your tiptoes, two fingers hooking into the fabric of his suit you give him a lil smooch!
“¿para qué era eso, bonita? t: what was that for, pretty?” miguel asks, his voice a little raspy and his eyes dumbfounded. “you’re pouting.” you state, still propped on your tiptoes, holding his suit.
in response miguel’s hands land on your hips, picking you up and setting you on the desk, slotting between your legs with an even more pouty expression he grumbles. “i do not pout.” a laugh slips past your lips as you watch him get all defensive. pissing him off further you ruffle his hair. his hard-ass demeanour pleading not to crumble, especially not in the semi public.
“cariño. t: honey.” he hisses. replied with a single “whaaat?” and a giggle. its too late to save himself though. lyla in the doorway, already taking pictures of miguel (our big bad spiderman.) slotted between your legs and having his hair played with as he pouts like a baby.
“lyla.” was all miguel needed to hiss before lyla was already gone, taking her camera with her. that was gonna be blackmail for a while.
you try to do a coy apology, getting half way through your “sor-” before miguel stops you with a “don’t you start, pequeño demonio. t: you little devil.” making you giggle and pull him into another little kiss by his spider suit.
A/N, holy shit!! i came back this morning to see over 200 likes on my posts?! i actually love you all so much!! also was gonna ask, would you guys read stuff that i wrote about ghost (cod mw2)?? let me know haha because i have a few ideas >o<!!💝💝
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nymphomatique · 8 months
Note
wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
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