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miguelspriscilla · 8 months

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fucking rcd!miguel in the back of his car after he won a race

“Oh—fuck..”

Miguel grunted as he continued pounding into you deeply from behind. His eyes staring down at your ass, the small-spaced car covering the sounds of squelching and skin-slapping. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head with each thrust, your fingers digging into the center console where you were forced to lay on as your best friend fucks you roughly in the back of his car.

This is how the night usually ended after Miguel won a car race. It all started during a sleepover at your house when you suggested the idea, giving him motivation to actually put more effort in the competitions. So after these races, the car would be parked by a cliff nearby the city while the two of you fuck round after round—not stopping even when you were on the verge of passing out.

“You like that, nena? Tell me.” His lips curving into a smirk, both of his hands gripping on your hips tightly. You squirmed, feeling his hard cock still thrusting into your tight, spongy walls.

“Y-Yes..I love it so much, Miggy!” you moaned breathlessly, the cute noises you were letting out were only bringing Miguel more pleasure.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that..”

You responded with a sweet smile before feeling him suddenly hit that sweet spot of yours, your face contorting with pleasure once again. “Please, Miggy! I want you to cum inside me!” you beg without hesitation, your knuckles turning white as your hands move to grip the center console instead. “Fuckfuckfuck!”

Your chants only encourages Miguel to set a relentless pace, driving his cock into you so roughly to the point the tip kisses your cervix. Pornographic moans leaving your sweet lips as Miguel reaches over to grab a handful of your hair to pull you back, forcing your back to arch even more, enough for your breasts to press down on the leather material of the console, never losing his pace, greedily driving himself deeper and deeper.

“You drive me crazy..never wanna leave this sweet pussy..” Miguel darkly chuckles, just as you were about to give out, feeling yourself wanting to stop, you felt yourself reach a climax that had you seeing white spots in your vision, moving your back closer to your best friend’s chest. Your face completely stained with tears and drool while shuddering as your legs shake— Miguel felt you continue to clench around his cock.

“Oh Miguel!” you mewled, Miguel watches a white ring of your sweetness cover his cock and it leaves the man almost falling apart on top of you. He groaned into your neck with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, his cum filling you up as you moaned at the hot sensation.

As your best friend continues emptying himself inside your cunt, both of your chests heaving heavily with a thin layer of sweat on your bodies. You were completely fucked out, not one thought in your pretty little head while you stayed still.

Suddenly Miguel’s phone began going off, as if it knew when to start ringing. He seemed to forget to shut it off before he impatiently jumped your bones. He gave your butt a harsh slap, laughing when you responded with a loud whimper before he reached to his race car jacket to grab his phone from the pocket.

“Damnit!” Miguel rolled his eyes, looking at his phone screen and it read, ‘Dana.’ His girlfriend. As much as he didn’t want to answer, he still clicked the green button. As soon as he held his phone to his ear, he slid his now soft cock out of your pussy.

“Aw! Come back, Miggy!”

“Give me a sec, nena. It’s Dana.” Miguel murmured, hearing you continue to protest for him to stick his cock back in but instead he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, slowly rubbing tight circles on your clit as he waited for Dana say whatever the hell she wanted to talk about at 1am. “Hey— Dana..right now isn’t a good time.”

“Yeah you must’ve been sleeping! But..I just missed you.” Dana replied affectionately through the other line. She seemed eager at the fact Miguel picked up.

Though he didn’t match his girlfriend’s enthusiasm, his focus remained on you. Resting himself on your back, using his tongue to finally explore your drooling mouth while listening to Dana talk endlessly about her day, how much she misses Miguel, and how she wished she could have attended the race to see him win.

Your knees still prompted on the car floor, slowly aching from how long you stayed in that uncomfortable position as you press your thighs tightly, trying to relief the loss of your best friend’s cock. You swore you could fall asleep from the boring conversation Dana was basically having a conversation with herself. You never liked her, she was obnoxious and passed herself around way too much. But the feeling was mutual between the two of you, she never liked how you and Miguel are so close..Dana has suspected most of the time that you were both hanging out— you were sucking his cock at the back of his car.

Miguel mindlessly nodded at whatever Dana said, humming against your lips until he pulled away and watch you lay your head, pouting your lips. “Mhm..mhm..yeah?” Miguel shrugged, not paying attention at all. He was watching the mixture of your juices and his cum oozing out of your pussy, the scene was absolutely breathtaking, literally. He couldn’t breathe right as he watched your fluids drip down your thighs and onto the carpet, staining it but Miguel didn’t care.

Though you were sensitive and exhausted, you pathetically whined loudly— surely Dana had catch that. “Hey Dana, I’m kinda busy right now. Let me call you back in 20 minutes?” Miguel interrupted his girlfriend during mid-conversation. His eyes trained on your leaking hole, watching as more of his cum spill out of you, the feeling making your body shudder once more.

“Actually let me call you back in the morning, yeah?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!!! IVE BEEN CONTEMPLATING ON POSTING THIS FOR 5 DAYS NOW. PLEASE PLEASE IM SORRY ITS BAD I JUST LOVE MIGUEL😭

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devotion · 10 months

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there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

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spdrwdw · 7 months

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Pairing: Dom!Miguel x Virgin!Sub!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral-m/f receiving, hair pulling, choking, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n

Summary: You and Miguel have been together for over a year, however, you have never been sexually intimate with him, nor with anyone, actually. You were a virgin. Miguel never seemed to mind, in fact, he's been rather patient with you. However, you believe now is the time to experience your first time with him.

A/N: this is my first Miguel fic! I do hope everyone enjoys it. I do have some ideas for more future fics. And I am currently taking requests. Also, thank you to @thel0velykey190 for the request. Note: this fic has not been proofread so apologies for any grammatical errors. *Translation for Spanish words/phrases and sentences will be at the end

Word Count: 2.7k

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“Wait, wait, wait! Are you sure about this? Like, one hundred percent sure?” Miguel asked you, eyes wide and brows raised.

You looked at him with determination and nodded your head. “Yes. Yes, I am sure. I’m ready for this, Miguel.” You have been pondering about this for days. Weeks, even. It was time. You were tired of your toys. They didn’t satisfy you anymore. But, you were certain that Miguel would. You knew he would. And he knew it as well.

Miguel stared at you for a moment, trying to find a hint of doubt in your expression, but he found none. And honestly, he was glad. He had been waiting months for this day. He was surprised he had such patience. Yet, with you, he would wait forever.

He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before he stood up from your living room couch, still holding onto your hand as he waited for you to follow him. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You got up and led him to your bedroom, feeling butterflies in your stomach. This was really happening. This is it. You were finally going to do it.

You were going to lose your virginity. To Miguel.

You’ve been dating each other for about a year and a half, and you had yet to be intimate with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. It was simply because well, you were a virgin. You have given each other oral countless of times, but, whenever things got too steamy and there was a chance of intercourse, you always stopped him. Miguel was experienced. Of course he was. And you trusted him. But, you were afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him.

“Nena, look at me,” Miguel spoke softly, pulling you from your thoughts as he cupped your face with his hands.

“Don’t be afraid. Okay? Let me do all the work. I’ll be gentle,” he assured you before you shook your head.

“Don’t be gentle,” you told him. Miguel had confessed to you how he liked being rough. You wanted to experience it. Even on your first try.

“But-,” he started before you cut him off.

“I trust you, Miguel.”

He looked at you for a moment before nodding his head and led you to your bed before you suddenly sunk down to your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes. You could’ve sworn you heard a low rumble coming from his throat. Miguel was easy to get riled up. And it made you feel a sense of pride.

He watched you as you removed his jeans, slipping them down to his ankles before he stepped out of them. The outline of his bulging cock was seen through his boxers. You continued to look up at him before you began to palm his bulge, earning a groan from him in response.

“Don’t be such a tease, nena,” he breathed.

And while you did love to tease him and make him whither under your touch, today wasn’t the day for that. So, you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and present itself in all its glory. The sight made your mouth water.

Taking him in your hand, you began to pump him, earning a couple of moans from him.

“Come on, pretty girl, I need that skilled mouth of yours,” Miguel rasped, a smirk lifting his lips as you made eye contact.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide, with your tongue sticking out and ready for him. Guiding his cock into your mouth, you gave the tip a couple of licks, feeling the saltiness of his precum on your tongue. It made your panties wet instantly.

It wasn’t long until you had him groaning and growling. You were bobbing your head, taking in as much of him as you could.Your hand pumping along what you couldn’t take in your mouth.

You felt a hand on the back of your head, lightly tugging at your hair, forcing you to look up and keep eye contact with him.

“That’s it. Just like that. Lo haces tan bien, nena. You take my cock in your mouth so well. I can’t wait to see how you take it in that virgin pussy,” he growled.

“Así. Chúpelo.”

His comment made you whimper onto his cock.

You could feel a bit of wetness pooling onto your panties from his words, imagining how he was going to feel inside you. How he would stretch you out so deliciously.

Swirling your tongue around his cock, you continued bobbing your head, Miguel’s cock twitching slightly in your mouth. When you grazed the shaft with your teeth, Miguel let out a raspy moan, tilting his head back.

“Keep going, nena. Just like that. Just like that for me,” he growled.

You continued with your work, taking in as much of him as you could til you felt the tip hitting the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water. You knew he was getting close as he felt him twitching again.

“Hold that pretty head still for me,” Miguel ordered, and of course, you did as you were told. He gripped onto your hair a little tighter, keeping you still as he fucked into your mouth. You kept your jaw slacked for as long as you could before he pulled out of your mouth and came on your face with a grunt. Keeping your mouth open and tongue out, you caught the streams of cum, licking up and swallowing every bit of it.

Miguel then picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you down on the bed. He removed the remainder of his clothing before doing the same with you.

You let out a soft gasp as his lips began trailing down your body, giving you goosebumps.

Miguel always worshiped your body any way he could.

As he made his way further down, he pushed your legs apart, hoisting them over his shoulders as he made his way to your aching, wet core. Licking his lips, he spread your pussy with his long fingers, groaning at the sight of your wetness. Your smell was intoxicating to him and it made his mouth water.

“Miguel,” you whimpered out his name just before feeling his tongue lapping over your folds, licking and sucking and slurping your juices. He was a man starved.

You quickly became a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, hearing the sounds of him just slurping up your pussy like it was some sweet. You could feel his teeth grazing at your bundle of nerves, tongue swirling around and slipping into your pussy.

Grabbing onto his hair, you gave it a tug, bucking your hips against his face, needing more.

“Miguel, please!” You cried out. “I need you, please.”

“Need you to cum on my face first,nena,”Miguel muttered against your pussy, keeping his brutal pace with his mouth and tongue.

You let out a whine, tugging onto his hair as you continued to grind his face, feeling that familiar heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Your thighs began to quiver a bit, back arching.

He then quickly slipped a finger inside of you, then another, then he had three of his fingers inside you, pumping into your pussy.

“Miguel!” You gasped, feeling him curling his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Need to stretch you out. Gotta get you nice and ready for my cock.”

You bit your lip, feeling his tongue and fingers overstimulating you. It wasn't much longer until you came.

Crying out his name, you did as he had desired, spilling yourself all over his face, feeling his warm tongue licking you all up without wasting a single drop of you. You needed more. You were aching for him. You were ready.

Miguel crawled over your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin before kissing you feverishly on your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He kneaded your breasts with his hands, pinching and tugging at the nipples, making you cry out into his mouth.

"M-Miguel..please..” you started to beg, trying to grind your drenched pussy against his swollen cock. You didn’t want to wait any longer.

A low rumble was heard coming from the back of Miguel’s throat from your movements. You were soaking his cock with your never-ending flow of juices. He wasn’t going to be able to stall much longer.

Lifting his head up to look at you, he licked his lips. Normally, he would’ve gotten on with it already. But, this was you. You were his girlfriend. His most treasured person. He wanted this to be the best experience possible for you.

Despite the lust-filled look in his eyes, he still looked at you with a bit of concern. He wanted to make sure you were really positive about this. He could wait. He would wait a lifetime for you.

You could see the hint of concern on his face and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down.

“I’m ready, Miguel,” you assured him, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Go ahead.”

Nodding his head, he did as instructed. He pushed your legs apart and aligned himself to your entrance, teasing you with his swollen tip, causing you to moan.

Ever so slowly, he began to push himself into you, causing you to let out a gasp as you felt his cock stretching you out.

“You okay?” He asked, stalling his movements. Last thing he was gonna do was force himself into you.

You nodded your head. You didn’t want him to stop.

“Relax for me, mi alma. I need you to relax. I’ll be able to slide in more smoothly,” he told you, caressing your cheek before he slowly began to push himself in.

You did your best to relax. But holy shit he was huge! You thought he was gonna rip you in half.

But, after a blink of an eye, he was seated comfortably inside of you. “There you go,” he breathed.

“I’m gonna start moving, okay?”

You just nodded your head.

Miguel started to move, slowly at first, checking in on you before he gradually increased speed.

Until he was fucking you into the mattress.

“Oh, Miguel!” You cried out, clawing at his back as he thrusted hard and deep inside of you, his hand wrapped around your throat.

Your eyes were rolled back, your back arched. This was your first time and it felt so so glorious.

“Like that, nena? Like it when I fuck you like a little slut?” Miguel growled, very pleased that you were taking him so well.

“Y-yes!” You sobbed as he lightly tightened his grip around your throat.

“Fuck! This pussy is so tight and delicious. Sucking me in,” he growled.

He glanced down to where your bodies met, seeing how his cock disappeared into your pussy. He was going balls deep, smacking them against your ass. The sound of skin to skin filled the room.

“Miguel!” You cried out his name, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, nena. Let it out,” he rasped against your ear.

“Want this cock drenched with you. Gonna fill this pussy up so good with my seed.”

You whimpered, closing your eyes before you felt a hand gripping your face. “Look at me. I want those pretty eyes open while I fill you up,” he ordered.

You opened them and stared up at him, not daring to break eye contact. His gaze made your pussy clench, causing you to let out a mewl. His thrusts quickened, knowing that you were teetering on the edge. Just a little more and..you came with a cry, singing his name.

Miguel moaned out your name, feeling your walls fluttering around him as you climaxed.

He gave you a couple more thrusts, his movements growing sloppy before he came inside you.The feeling was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It felt warm as he filled you up with his cum, causing you to let out a soft gasp, eyes wide.

Miguel slowly began to pull out of you once he was done, before you grabbed onto his wrist and shook your head.

“Again.”

“A-Again?” Miguel repeated in question, eyes growing wide.

“Yes. I..I really liked it,” you admitted, blushing a bit as you averted your gaze.

Miguel stared at you for a moment before he finally let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “You are going to be the death of me, nena.”

And so, a second time became a third, which then became a fourth.

Miguel had you face down and ass up as he rammed into your swollen, sore pussy. Filled to the brim already with his seed. You let out muffled cries, your face planted into a pillow as Miguel hit that sweet spot again and again.

“¡Mierda! Had I known you were gonna love this so much..” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Who knew you’d be such a little slut for me, nena. It’s so sexy.”

Now that you were comfortable with sex and Miguel’s size, he wasn’t going to hold back. You had broken the dam.

“Now I’m gonna get to have my way with you whenever I want, right?”

You only let out a muffled moan in response right before Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head up, leaning down over your back as he continued his harsh thrusts.

“What was that?” He smirked, giving your ass a smack.

You let out a cry at the sting of his hand before nodding your head, feeling tears pricking from your eyes. “Y-yes!” You sobbed out before letting out a moan.

“That’s my girl,” Miguel growled, pressing you down onto the mattress to muffle your loud moans.

“You gonna cum for me, nena? Cum for me, pretty girl. Sé que puedes hacerlo. You did it three times already. Just give me one more and I’ll let you rest.”

You muffled a whine in response before Miguel grabbed you by the neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and lifted your head up. “Shh, not so loud. You’ll wake up the neighbors.”

“Miguel, please,” you whimpered. You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax.

“Miguel!”

Miguel grunted out your name, his free hand wrapping around your lower body, finding your clit and began to it feverishly.

“Cum for me. I want those sweet juices all around my cock, babygirl.”

Gripping onto the bed sheets, you came with a lewd moan, doing as you were told and covered Miguel with your climax as he continued to pivot his hips against you. The sweet sounds of skin hitting against skin, the sounds of his full balls hitting against your pussy, made you immediately orgasm again.

“Such a good little slut you are. Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Miguel growled before he emptied his seed inside of you yet again, filling you up til your overflowed.

Panting, you lifted your head up a bit and glanced behind you as Miguel slowly pulled himself out of you with a soft sigh. He caught your gaze and his look of lust faded away, giving you a gentle smile.

“I do think that’s enough for tonight, hmm?”

He laid down beside you, wrapping her arms around you and pulled you to his chest.

“Feeling okay?”

You nodded your head, letting out a shaky breath before smiling. “Yeah. I feel fine. Gonna be hella sore in the morning, but..” you shrugged.

Miguel laughed and nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose we did get a little carried away.”

“I liked it, though,” you admitted, feeling your face growing warm.

“Better than your toys?” Miguel questioned with a smirk.

“Oh, so much better,” you giggled, nodding your head.

“Thank you for being so patient with me, Miguel. And..I’m sorry I had you wait so long.”

He shook his head.”No, mi alma, don’t say that. I would’ve waited a lifetime for you. You know that. Yeah, I may have had my urges now and then but, you were definitely worth waiting for.”

He gave you a kiss on the forehead before pecking your lips a couple of times. “Get some sleep now. You’re gonna need the rest,” he stated with a chuckle.

Nodding your head, you nuzzled up against him and closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you.

Who knew you’d end up becoming addicted to sex.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

*nena -babe

*Lo haces tan bien, nena. - You do it so well, babe.

*Así. Chúpelo. - Like that. Suck it.

*¡Mierda! -Shit!

* Sé que puedes hacerlo. -I know you can do it.

*mi alma- mi soul

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x y/n

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alexias-putellas · 2 days

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are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader

barça femení x teen!reader

this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.

warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all

are you sure?

you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.

you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.

you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.

you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.

it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.

time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.

when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.

but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”

you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.

so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.

ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.

you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.

after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.

the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.

it was your fault after all.

your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?

suddenly you weren’t so sure.

ᡣ𐭩

you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.

as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.

if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.

you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.

“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”

those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.

your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.

with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.

truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.

but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.

“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.

the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.

your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.

you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.

tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.

the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.

the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.

the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.

and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”

you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.

“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”

“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”

you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.

it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.

the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.

to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.

when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.

she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”

“yes, thank you.” you whispered.

it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.

“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”

“i’m sure.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #barça femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #ona batlle #keira walsh #lucy bronze #mapi leon #ingrid engen #esmee brugts #jana fernandez

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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

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i'll angel in the snow until i'm worthy

putellas!reader [p2 to make it through the winter if it kills me] tw: contains descriptions of self harm. a long look back at what happened a year ago, when alexia found out. a brief glimpse into the present.

“Alexia,” you called. Your tone didn’t reflect the urgency of the situation, and Alexia didn’t think to be alarmed when she answered you.

“In the kitchen.” She replied, assuming you would come to her.

“Alexia,” you yelled again. This time, some fear leaked into your tone, and you knew your sister had heard it. Her footsteps were loud, stomping down the hall, and to the door of your room. She pushed it open without a second thought, eyes widening in panic.

“Fuck.” To her credit, Alexia moved fast. She was grabbing a towel from the linen closet and sprinting back to your side before you had time to try to say anything, pressing it down on your leg hard.

“Okay, okay. We’re okay. Everything is fine.” You weren’t sure if your sister was reassuring herself, or you.

You didn’t know what had happened. One second you were tracing the familiar lines on your leg with your finger, the next, you had a blade in your hand, and you’d pushed just a bit too deep. It was bleeding. A lot. You didn’t know if you needed stitches, if something was wrong, but you knew that you weren’t in the right mind to deal with it. In your moment of panic, you called for Alexia. You trusted her to fix it. To fix you.

Alexia’s eyes were stuck on you, stuck on your leg. Your shorts were pulled up, and if Alexia had ever thought that this was an accident, she no longer did so. The scars marking your skin told a different story, and as your sister stared down at your leg, her horror was evident on her face.

Alexia was speechless, and your sister was never speechless. If she were to be honest, she didn’t know what to do. Here you were, in front of her, clearly not doing well. And she hadn’t noticed. You’d been doing this for long enough for there to be numerous scars on your body, and she hadn’t noticed.

You, too, had no idea what to say. Calling for her had been an instinct, but now that the panic had left your body a bit, you regretted it with every fiber of your being. She was going to freak out, you were sure of it.

She kept her composure longer than you expected, long enough for the bleeding to stop. She pulled the towel away from your leg and inspected the damage that you’d done. It wasn’t as bad as it had seemed originally, and you sighed in relief. At least you wouldn’t be dragged to the hospital. Before you’d really even had time to really be grateful for that, Alexia was fixing you with a piercing stare, a slew of words leaving her mouth that reflected very clearly her feelings on the situation.

“What the fuck is this, nena? What were you thinking? I- I don’t understand, what would possess you to do something so incredibly stupid. This could have gone deeper, this could have needed stitches. What then, hmm? This is not okay, pequeña, and it stops, now.”

Alexia wasn’t even quite sure what she was saying, her heart racing in her ears as she panicked. She was terrified. You always put on such a happy exterior, and it was beyond frightening that she’d had no idea, not even a clue, that this had been going on. You lived with her, you spent everyday together, and she’d been completely oblivious to the fact that you were hurting so badly, you’d turned to this. She felt like she’d failed you, failed your mom, failed everyone. She was supposed to take care of you, and protect you.

None of these sentiments were expressed, though. Instead, she practically shouted at you, not sure what to say or do, other than make sure, make completely sure, that you’d never do this again. A pained look flashed across your face, before it was replaced with one of defiance. You stood up, shoving your sister away from you.

“It’s fine, Alexia. This is none of your business, please, just leave.”

Alexia scoffed, rising to her feet too. “Leave? Leave. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again. I’ll take your door off the hinges if that's what it takes but this cannot happen again, do you understand?”

Your sister didn’t understand. Never in her life had she felt the need to do something like this, and her mind was not focused on trying to understand where your head was at, it was only on making sure you were safe. She didn’t know that you needed this, more than you needed anything. It was the only thing you had, the only thing you could rely on to make yourself feel better. She couldn’t take this away, you wouldn’t survive it.

“Fine, I won’t do it again. Get out.” You lied, shoving her towards the door. Your sister shook her head, seeing clearly through your lie, pushing you right back.

Despite her shove, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, to calm the situation down. “No. We need to talk about this, we need to fix it. Give me your phone, I need to call mom.” Alexia reached her hand out, freezing at the look on your face. At the mention of your mother, all the color drained from your face, and you stepped backwards, shaking your head frantically.

“Alexia, don’t you dare, mom does not need to know about this, you can’t tell her, you can’t tell anyone.”

“I have to tell people to get you help, nena, mom needs to know, the club needs to know,” Alexia rationalized, stepping closer, her hands raised in a soothing manner.

“NO. Alexia, you cannot tell anyone this, you can’t. I don’t need help. There is no issue, I am fine. I won’t do it again, I promise, Alexia, I promise. Please, just please don’t tell anyone. Please.” You begged, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

Your sister’s frustration only grew. How could you say you were fine? How could you say you didn’t need help? It was absurd, completely absurd to her, that you could think this was okay.

“Pequeña, either there is an issue, and you need help, or there is no issue, and you just wanted my attention. You have it, sí? So which is it?” She spoke slowly and carefully, only realizing she’d said the wrong thing only when you flushed red with anger, hands connecting with her chest again, harder this time. She stumbled backwards, not expecting it, and you moved right past her, fleeing through your bedroom door.

Attention. Attention? How could she say that, how could she possibly think that? You didn’t want her to know. This was your thing, it was none of her business. It had nothing to do with your self centered, overbearing sister, and it made you livid that she’d think to say that. You ran down the stairs, shorts rubbing painfully at the open wounds on your leg. You weren’t quite sure where you were going, but you couldn’t be here anymore, not with Alexia. Not if she was going to insist on talking about this, insist on acting like you’d done something horrible.

“Come back, now, pequeña, don’t you dare leave this house.” Alexia shouted after you, rushing down the stairs just a second too late, the front door slamming shut just before she reached it. She was panicking now, panicking for real, as she threw the door open and stepped outside, just in time to see you start her Cupra, backing it out of the driveway. Your sister stood frozen, watching as you drove away, so worried she thought she might be sick.

She didn’t know where you were going, or what you were going to do. You’d taken the only car at home, and she had no way to go after you. Alexia stepped back in the house, looking for her phone. She needed Olga to come home, now. Olga would know what to say, she’d know where you were going. She was perfect like that, knew you almost as well as Alexia did. When your sister lost her head at you, Olga was the first one to calm things down. Alexia needed Olga, now, more than she’d ever needed anyone in her life.

-----

You didn’t go far. Only a few blocks to Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment, parking the car, and taking the elevator up to their floor, pitifully knocking on the door, hoping to god they were home

Mapi knew. She’d known for a few weeks, after she’d caught a glimpse of your leg when you hadn’t changed quick enough in the locker room. Unlike your sister, she hadn’t freaked out. She’d picked you up later that day, making an excuse that she needed your advice on a gift for Ingrid, driving you guys to the beach, before she brought it up. Mapi was kind, compassionate about it. She told you what you needed to hear, realizing that you were not quite at the point of stopping. Mapi knew she had to discuss this delicately, that pushing you too hard too soon would only do the opposite of what she wanted. All she asked of you was that you talk to her more. She’d promised you that she’d help you figure everything out, that you’d do everything at your pace. She’d promised she wouldn’t tell Alexia, if you promised to be honest with her. You’d kept her promise, and she’d kept hers. You were probably only a few minutes from calling her and asking for her to come get you when you’d panicked, and decided to call for your sister. Mapi always knew what to say after- not making you feel guilty, or stupid, but not sugar coating everything either. She’d told you, about a thousand times, that if you needed her, to call or come over. No matter what.

You were still pretty closed off from her, and Mapi wasn’t expecting you to take her up on that offer. She moved quickly, though, when she pulled open the door and caught sight of you, arms wrapped around yourself, shaking enough for it to be visible.

“Hey, nena,” she murmured, guiding you into the house and right into a tight hug. “What happened?” She asked, making eye contact with Ingrid over the top of your head. Ingrid knew too, mostly because Mapi didn’t keep things from her girlfriend. You trusted Ingrid, too, as much as you trusted Mapi, even if you didn’t rely on her in the same way.

“Ale knows,” you cried. “I cut too deep and I called for her and she freaked out, Maps, she was so mad,”

This wasn’t good. Mapi knew Alexia well, and knew how quick she was to respond with anger when she was scared. There was no doubt in the defender’s mind that this is what happened. If past fights were any indication, you’d likely fled before Alexia could really understand what was going on. You were Mapi’s priority, though. She took a calming breath, before pulling away and putting her hands on your shoulders. “I’ll take care of it, alright? Just try to relax. Go with Ingrid, she’ll patch you up. I’ll call your sister.”

“Mapi,” you began, not feeling at all interested in facing your sister anytime soon.

Mapi could be strict when she wanted to be, though, and she shook her head firmly. “No, she needs to know you’re okay. Go with Ingrid.”

Reluctantly, you turned to where Ingrid was waiting for you, first aid kit somehow already in hand. She led you out to their little terrace, settling you both in chairs before she asked you to roll up your shorts. To her credit, she didn’t flinch, only blinking a few times before she got to work cleaning and bandaging.

“You know Mapi wants another cat?” She said after a minute, glancing up at you. You choked out a laugh, wiping at your eyes.

“Bagheera is not made to be a sibling, she’s much too spoiled for that.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her, but you know how she gets.” Ingrid agreed, very easily distracting you. You fell into conversation with her, most of it at Mapi’s expense. As if Ingrid wasn’t cleaning your cut, as if she wasn’t bandaging the wound you’d inflicted on yourself.

-----

Inside, Mapi was trying to prepare herself to call Alexia. Your sister would not be happy that Mapi had known about this and kept it to herself, but the defender had been doing what was best for you. Her plan was to get you to tell your sister eventually, once you’d warmed up to the idea a bit more. It was too late for that, now, so she clicked Alexia’s contact. The speed with which your sister answered clued Mapi into how truly panicked Alexia must have been. Alexia was famously awful at answering her phone, but she must have had it right in hand, waiting to hear from you, before Mapi had called.

“María,” Alexia began, seconds away from begging Mapi to help her look for you.

“She’s here, Ale. She’s here, she’s with me and Ingrid, and she’s completely fine.”

“She- she’s there? With you?” There was a pause, muffled voices hitting Mapi’s ear as Alexia assumedly relayed the information to Olga. “Mapi she’s hurt,”

“I know. Ingrid’s taking care of it. Why don’t you come over?”

“You know? She told you? Why are you being so calm about this María?” Ever observant, and ever suspicious, Alexia was alarmed at how little surprise and anxiety was notable in her best friend’s voice.

“She told me. Just come over, Ale, we can talk about it. Bring Olga, she makes you act like less of a crazy person.”

-----

Alexia must have done some thinking on the short drive to Mapi’s because she came in guns blazing. Mapi was being too calm about this. The seemingly random increase in time she’d been spending with you was now making more sense. Mapi had known. Mapi had known that Alexia’s baby sister was hurting herself, and the defender hadn’t told her.

“You knew.” Alexia accused, pushing past Mapi to enter the apartment, Olga trailing behind her. Mapi nodded her head. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“She wasn’t ready for you to know. She didn’t think you’d react well, and clearly she was right.” There was no malice behind Mapi’s words, but Alexia responded like there had been.

“How I react is none of your business, María. Where is she? I'm taking her home.”

“She’s on the terrace with Ingrid.” Alexia stopped her pacing, turning towards the sliding door, spotting the back of your head through the clear glass. Mapi stopped her.

“Not yet, we need to talk first.” She said carefully, not backing down when Alexia turned back to her, the captain’s face fixed with an intense, fury filled expression.

“María, I appreciate you taking care of her, but I am taking my sister home. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”

Mapi shook her head, looking to Olga for help, knowing that although she could probably stop Alexia from going out there to get you, she’d rather not have to do so. Olga stepped closer, placing a careful hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. Alexia’s body deflated at the contact, and she turned towards the brunette, suddenly looking much less angry, and much more upset.

“Let’s hear Mapi out, okay? I know you’re mad, but she’s your best friend, and you trust her. If she didn’t tell you, she had a reason. If she wants to talk before we take pequeña home, she has a reason. Ingrid’s got your sister, let’s just take a moment to relax.”

As if hypnotized, Alexia nodded gently, flopping exhaustedly onto the couch. Mapi took a careful seat in the chair across from her, while Olga sat next to Alexia, keeping a calming hand on her leg. Privately, the defender wondered how differently this would be going if Olga wasn’t here. All her teammates gave her so much shit, constantly, for being completely whipped for Ingrid. Though this wasn’t a story Mapi would ever tell, she wished, briefly, that she could present the evidence that her tough captain was down just as bad for her own girlfriend.

Mapi took a breath, thinking carefully about how she wanted to start this. She wasn’t sure how to make your sister understand, but she’d try her best.

-----

Ingrid could keep small talk up for a long time, it turned out. Through the raised voices, and even when they quieted down, Ingrid kept you talking. Eventually, after you glanced back inside nervously for the 5th time that minute, the Norwegian gave up on distracting you.

“She’s not mad at you. I don’t know what she said, and I know it probably feels like she’s angry, but she’s not. She’s scared, and she’s worried about you. She just loves you a lot, and she’s not sure what to do.”

Hesitantly, you leaned over, resting your head on Ingrid’s shoulder. “She’s going to make me stop.”

“You were always going to have to stop. This isn’t healthy. Alexia is going to be more intense than María was, but she was always going to do everything she could to make you stop, to help you get better.”

“She asked me if I was doing it for attention.”

Ingrid sighed. Sometimes, she wished her normally level-headed captain was more level-headed when it came to the people she loved. That intensity was what made Alexia, Alexia. A fierce love that knew no bounds, though it had its drawbacks.

“You’re not.” Ingrid dismissed. “Even if you were, elskling, that doesn’t make you a bad person. You need help. If you were trying to tell your sister that in this way, it just means you need help. You’re sick, honey. You need help, you deserve help, and if I know you’re sister at all, she’s going to get you help if it’s the last thing she does.”

That, at least, you agreed with.

-----

When Mapi was finished giving Alexia a long lecture, a role reversal if either of them had ever experienced one, she walked to the door, knocking softly. Ingrid led you back inside, taking in the very grim expressions on everyone’s faces. Alexia looked destroyed, honestly, and Ingrid knew it was a combination of factors; guilt that she had missed this, and guilt that she’d been so harsh earlier.

Your sister didn’t move when you walked in, but Olga did, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before pulling you in close. You clung to her, and your sister watched out of the corner of her eye, the way you collapsed into her girlfriend without a second thought. She’d never felt worse in her life, never felt like she’d failed so greatly. The feeling only grew when Olga released you, and you finally looked at your sister with so much apprehension that Alexia wanted to cry.

You didn’t move any closer to your sister, and you didn’t look at her again, instead focusing your attention on Mapi.

“Nena, do you want to stay here tonight? You can go home and talk to Ale tomorrow.” Mapi offered.

Your eyes flickered to your sister, shocked when she didn’t object. Instead, she nodded stiffly, speaking more to the ground than to you. “If you want to stay, you can. I’d rather you come home, but if you would feel better here, then I want you to stay.” Alexia paused, looking hesitantly between Olga and you. “We don’t need to talk tonight, I won’t call Mom, I won’t tell anyone. I… we will do what makes you comfortable.”

You looked between the older girls, finding everyone’s attention fixed on you. They were giving you control, it seemed, truly allowing you to decide what you wanted to do. It calmed you, no longer feeling completely powerless. And even though you were hurt, and angry with Alexia, even though you kind of wanted to shove her again, you could tell she was trying. Trying to make up for what she’d done and how she’d acted. You knew Alexia, and you knew she was probably terrified right now, and having you stay here would probably keep her up all night. You loved her too much to stress her out like that. And if Alexia stayed as calm as she was now, you’d feel much better at home.

-----

Alexia had promised you, and Olga, and Mapi, that she wouldn’t make you talk tonight. It was proving difficult, however, more difficult than she anticipated, as the three of you sat in the living room, none of you paying attention to the football match playing on the TV. You’d wanted to go to your room, but the look of pure panic on your sister’s face when you headed for the stairs was enough to have you turning around, albeit grumpily, to join the two older girls in the living room.

You didn’t particularly feel like talking. Your frustration with your sister was fading rapidly though. Her eyes flicked over to you every minute, it seemed, and she’d attached herself to Olga the minute the brunette had joined her on the couch. Alexia wasn’t one for PDA, not in front of family or anyone. What she was doing couldn’t even really be considered PDA, but it was more than Alexia usually allowed. She’d captured Olga in a half hug, wrapping her arm tight around her and pulling the brunette into her chest. Olga had allowed it willingly, tangling her hand with Alexia’s, knowing she needed the comfort right now. If she was seeking it out so openly, neither you nor Olga could really even guess what was going on inside her head.

As time passed, Alexia remained firmly wrapped around her girlfriend, looking over at you every few seconds, as if to assure herself that you were still there, still safely next to her. You felt more and more that you had to say something. Anything, to assure Alexia that you were alright, at least for now. You weren’t going anywhere. She didn’t need to worry so much. Of course, that was something she’d been hearing her whole life, and it wasn’t something you’re sure she’d ever listened to.

The problem was that you weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but you couldn’t stand the anxiety radiating off your sister any longer, so you reached out your hand, laying it on the couch by her. Alexia grabbed it instantly, squeezing tight, and you heard her let out a relieved sigh. At least now, she wasn’t staring at you anymore.

It was another 20 minutes before you spoke up. “Ale, I’m really sorry.” For 20 minutes of thinking, it was admittedly rather pathetic, but it was something.

Your sister and Olga looked at you instantly, Olga immediately shaking her head at you, nudging Ale when she didn’t respond right away.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel like that before. I didn’t understand, I don’t really understand, but I will do whatever you need from me. Just talk to me, please, that’s all I need from you.”

There was a choice in front of you, one you were conflicted about. You wanted to talk, but you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to stop, but you didn’t know how. You wanted to feel better, but you weren’t sure that was possible. You could keep doing what you’d been doing. You were still alive, that proved that it worked, at least a bit. Or you could put your faith in your sister, who was absolutely desperate to help you. Alexia was good at fixing things. You hoped that applied to people too.

-----

Alexia thought about that day a lot, and the days that followed. It always struck her that even in some of your toughest moments, you worried about her too. That’s what came with being sisters, she supposed. She wasn’t your parent, and she knew that. Most of the time. You worried about her just as much as she worried about you, though. Even when you were angry, when you had every right to be angry, you still reached out to hold your sister’s hand, to make sure that she wasn’t too stressed.

As she stood, with you still wrapped up tightly in her embrace, Alexia remembered how hard it had been for you last time. How hard it had been for all of you. It would be hard, again. Your sister knew you wouldn’t think you could do it again. She knew that you could.

Alexia had always believed in you, almost to a fault. She’d gotten you through this before, and she’d do it again. No matter what it took.

-----

not promising a part 3, but IF there was going to be one, let me know what you'd like to see.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

headcanons on miguel’s favorite sex positions? 💃

OOOO boi do i have some things to say about this

headcanon : Miguel's favourite sex positions and why with some quotes of what he would say in each situation for the positions

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, mentions of -breeding kink, size kink, soft sex, rough sex, pnv sex, prostate, bdsm. softdom!miguel, no use of Y/N word count : 1,3k

﹫tag list : @fandom-ash

Missionary : ⟢ description : the receiver partner lays back and the giving partner enters from above

listen, he is a simple man that sometimes likes to stick to the good ol stuff

this, and also because he just loves to watch you and how small you look under him

Miguel for SURE has a size kink, like LOOK at how BIG he is

and the fact that he knows he can cage you underneath him simply with his frame makes his cock twitch

also : this one gives him access to your neck and your breasts/chest, and every single position that does so is a must

bonus point for the kinky missionary where he ties your hands above your head while his roam your entire body

plus he just loves seeing you begging, that powerless look in your eyes as you squirm under him makes his eyes burn dark

“I’m going to make you come until you can’t breathe.”

Table-top / Countertop : ⟢ description : you don’t have to do this specifically on a table. Have the giver enter while the receiver sits or lies at the edge of a table, counter, or bed.

this man is devoted to his work, but he is mostly devoted to you

and sometimes he just can’t resist seeing your thigh thickening as you sit down, it does unspeakable things to him (because he is undoubtedly a thigh man, fight me on this)

gotta make some good use of these desks after all

if he really just can't wait for you two to be back to his quarters, he’d 100% make everyone leave the office so that he can just pin you down on the desk and fuck you senseless

once, you almost got caught because you were moaning a bit too loud, and he just pressed his hand on your mouth

“I love your moans nena, but for now you have to be silent.”

you had tried to control your moans better, biting on the inside of your cheek, your lip, or his

“don’t worry, because later, I’ll make you scream”

another way for him to take you that is similar to the countertop would be :

Face-off / the chairman ⟢ description : the giving partner sits on a chair or on the edge of a bed ; the receiver faces them while seated on their lap (for the chairman, the receiving is facing away)

he likes this one because this way he can see you, hold you close to him and still have access to your entire body

he’d spend so much time marking you, everywhere across your neck, breast and back

also the chairman might start because either you or him proposes some cockwarming during his work

“I need you, right now.”

when in the bedroom though, he will go for something similar but sweeter :

the Om/Rocking Horse ⟢ description : the giving partner sits cross-legged, (yoga/pretzel-style), while the receiver sits on their lap facing them. The receiver can wrap their legs around the giver and hug each other

he just loves the proximity of this one, it’s so intimate

how he can hold you in his arms while you go at your own rhythm. You look so good for him, he’s literally drunk on your every expression and moans

he’ll become a full koala, just wrapping his arms around you and kissing your skin tenderly, his eyes full of pure adoration for you

seeing you so close, he is so proud of you and how good you are for him

it’s in these moments that he wonders what he did to deserve to have such an amazing partner

“do you like the way that feels ? Gosh, you should see how good you look right now.”

Cowgirl ⟢ description : the receiver kneels on top, pushing off the giver’s chest and sliding up and down their thighs. The receiver can relieve some weight from their partner’s pelvis by leaning back and supporting themselves on their thighs

ooo boi many reasons

first of all, after a long day, if you want him, you can still fuck him when he is too tired to properly take care of you (this man will crave your body until his last breath)

second of all, the view he has is amazing

seeing you bounce on his dick, his hands grasping your breasts/chest and your hips while you’re rolling them onto him : pure bliss

third of all, this one allows you to manage your own rhythm and your own pleasure just the way you want it

he does also love some alternatives to it

reverse cowgirl for instance is insanely good, seeing your amazing ass lowering on his dick and grazing his lower belly is heavenly. Bonus point for this one if it’s mirrored sex, because seeing your beautiful face while you’re the one fucking him elevates his soul

“use me as your toy all night long”

Leap frog ⟢ description : this is a modified doggy style position. The receiver gets on their hands and knees, then, keeping hips raised, rests their head and arms on the bed.

remember the soft Miguel I told you about in the Om part ? Let’s set that idea to the side, ‘cause he ain’t soft in this one

damn this position makes him want to breed you so bad, because this has a sort of bestial and intense style to it

he can go deep into you, hitting all the good spots while he toys with your clit and drives you from one climax to the other

he will lock your wrists in your back with just one hand while with the other he grips your hair

he loves the feeling of your ass against him, and will undoubtedly grab it full hand or slap it

he might or might not use this one whenever he feels frustrated and needs to vent the tension

“i’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk”

Scoop me up/spooning ⟢ description : both partner lie on their side, facing the same direction while the giver enters the receiver

Miguel, as we can imagine, is the big spoon, and he loves being it

so combining this with sex ? Oh boi that’s a win

also (same as with cow-girl) this is a great way for him to still make love to you when he is tired after a long day because he doesn’t need to use a lot of energy

bonus point about this one : he loves it because, when you’re all done, there’s nothing much left to do but snuggle up and fall asleep in each other’s embrace

“Coño, you feel amazing.”

Mating press / Seashell ⟢ description : the receiver lies back with their legs raised all the way up, the giver enters from a missionary position

as mentioned earlier, Miguel probably has a good ol’ breeding kink

so of course this position is a necessity

he can be all good and deep inside you while you're under him, he might bite your calf

he feels like he looks so much bigger than you in this, and he’ll never get tired of the vision of your eyes tearing up from how deep he’s fucking you

plus, he can block both your legs and arms, completely dominating you and holding you at his mercy, and that excites him very, very much

“Let’s find out how much you can take.”

this one is kind of a bonus :

the snow angel (maybe an unpopular opinion ? i have no idea tbh bhffrgd) ⟢ description : the receiver should lie on their back and have the giving partner straddle them, facing away. The receiver lifts their legs and wraps them around the giver’s back to elevate their pelvis so the giver can enter.

okay this one mostly applies for one single reason : prostate massage

you both might just rarely use this one, because miguel can’t see you nor mark anything than your legs (which he doesn't appreciate), however the possibility that you can finger his ass while he fucks you is an amazing feeling

the way he can bury himself inside of you while you hit his prostate so deliciously makes him moan uncontrollably

“Don’t stop… It’s so good when you touch me there.”

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cherryredstars · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral Sex, Indirectly Mentioned Age Gap, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Mentions of Male Masturbation

Summary: An unwelcome guest arrives.

A/N: They’re back at it!!!

Word Count: 2.9K (Not Edited)

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

He can hear you. Both of you.

There are two pairs of footsteps walking past his door. The lighter, softer ones are recognizable. The heavier ones are not. His eyes narrow at the noise, quickly lowering the volume of the TV. He can hear the rustling of keys overlapping with the sound of muffled talking. Your laugh cuts through the noise, and his head whips to his own door. He’s quick to get up, making his way to the door. He waits a few moments before opening it, casually looking to the left as he steps out.

You’re standing at your front door, just opening it when you turn to him. Your doe eyes blink at him, a smile on your face and a slight blush. It’s the first time you two have seen each other properly since the incident two and a half weeks ago. He takes the time to drink in the sight of you. You’re wearing a bubble jacket and a pair of jeans. On your head is a beanie with a logo in the front, causing your hair to stick to your face. Over your shoulder is the bookbag you use sometimes when the weather isn’t ideal for your usual tote bag. It’s a refreshing sight. Better than the dream versions that visit him in his sleep.

The sight quickly sours when his eyes register the boy behind you. He’s young, around your age. A classmate perhaps. He’s tall, but nowhere as tall as Miguel. He’s lanky, all long, thin limbs. Probably doesn't know the difference between barbells and dumbbells. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats and a black sweater with a coat overtop. He has thick hair, styled to look ‘naturally’ messy. It looks like he got electrocuted. Three times in a row. By lightning. He has his own book bag thrown over his shoulder, and his smile slowly disappears when he looks at Miguel. He steps a little closer to you, a few inches separating his front from your back. The scene looks far too intimate for his liking. He would be considered ‘cute’ or ‘hot’ in a dorky way to any teenage girl.

The two size each other up. There's no competition.

“Hi, Miguel!”

Your face makes both of them turn away, looking down at you. You’re smiling wide at Miguel, and he feels way too prideful when you step towards him. He can’t resist the smug look he throws at the boy behind you. His arm reaches out, his fingers grabbing at one of the front pieces of your hair. From over your shoulder he can see the fetus glare at the possessive touch.

“Hi, mi nena. Who’s this you brought with you, hm?”

His voice is low, intimate in the fact that his words are softened for you. You seem to melt into the tone, your body self-consciously leaning in as you blink up at him. For a second you seem slightly confused, turning around to see the boy. It’s like you forgot he was even there. The boy loses his glare, giving you a small smile. You turn back to Miguel quickly, a slight flush on your cheeks. The attention you give him, even in front of your…guest, makes his heart sing and his cock stir. He’ll have to reward you for it later, when the time is right.

“Oh! He’s just my classmate, we have to work together on a project.”

Miguel smiles at that. He’s just a classmate. He’s not even considered a friend to you. It’s cute, the way you try to reassure him that nothing is happening between the two of you. But, that doesn’t nullify the fact that your classmate obviously wants to be something more than your project partner. Miguel trusts you completely. What he doesn’t trust is a young, horny boy near you. But he does have to admit, the dejected look on his face when you refer to him as only a classmate pleases something ugly inside of him.

Miguel’s finger rubs against your cheek before he lets your hair go, his eyes following the way your body shivers slightly at the contact. You stay leaned towards him, and Miguel has to resist the urge to coo down at you. Instead, he reaches both of his hands down towards your waist. Your body seems to melt into his touch, your eyes going dopey as his warmth seeps through the thick denim of your pants. If the two of you didn’t have a guest present and weren’t out in the hall, he would kiss you. Or eat you out against the wall. Whichever one crossed his mind first. He would have enough time for both if you let him indulge. But, again, he would have to save that for another time. Right now, he has to- very reluctantly- return you to your party.

His arms are quick around your waist as he turns you around, your body stumbling slightly from the speed. You seem confused as you’re now faced with your company, turning your head back to Miguel. You have a slight pout on your face, disappointment spreading as he pushes you forward slightly. You look like you’re about to protest, and as much as he’d love to have you begging for his attention, you have other matters to attend to. Miguel leans down, his breath warming your neck. He can’t resist taking a whiff of your dizzying smell, letting it invade his lungs and travel to his cock for safe keeping. He’ll make use of it later.

“Go do your work, mami. I’ll see you later, hm?” He whispers, eyes hungirly taking in the way your lips part and blush spreads across your face. You turn your face to him, a few centimeters separating the two of you. Your eyes hastily fall to his lips before meeting his eyes, muttering out a breathless ‘okay’.

Miguel smirks, opening his mouth to say something else when a rough cough breaks the moment. Both you and Miguel turn your heads, looking at the boy who seems slightly uncomfortable. He eyes the lack of space between the two of you, eyes dropping to where Miguel still grabs your waist. Good, at least now he knows who you belong to. Miguel slowly removes himself from you, and you give an apologetic smile to your guest. You begin to walk towards him, and Miguel lets you walk a step or two away before grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him.

You bump into his chest with a soft noise, wide eyes looking up at him. Both of your arms are trapped between your body and his, and your breath stutters when he leans down. Miguel keeps his eyes trained to the boy behind you, loving the sour look on his face.

“I don’t want to hear any funny business. This will not be one of those types of ‘study sessions’, you understand?” Miguel says slowly into your ear, possessiveness seeping in with each word. You open your mouth to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat as you feel something hard pressing against your thigh. Miguel squeezes your wrist, pulling your attention back to where it should be, “Do I make myself clear, chica?”

The airy ‘yes, Miguel’ you practically whimper out will satisfy him for now. He whispers back a ‘sé buena’, letting you go and pulling away. Miguel keeps his eyes on your little frat boy for a few more seconds before he looks down at you. His hand falls to your chest, pushing you back slightly as he turns towards his apartment. You still have this dazed look on your face, and Miguel commits it to memory. Slowly, you turn around looking at your classmate briefly before walking into your apartment. He takes a second to follow you in, instead looking at Miguel with a tightened hold on his bookbag. You call out his name, and he disappears behind your closed door. Miguel scowls at the door before he slips into his own home, leaning against the door.

His eyes trail down his body to the hard on bulging through his pants. His hands slip through his waistband, palm connecting to the precum beading at his tip. He grits his teeth as he begins to tug at himself, the smell of shampoo and a dazed face running through his head.

___________________________________

He sits up on the couch when he hears your door open and close. He stays silent, picking up the sound of a singular pair of footsteps walking away until they’re gone. Miguel waits a few moments before getting up, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to lock it behind him when he closes it, instead focusing on getting inside of your apartment. He stands in front of it, lifting a hand to knock before stuffing both of his hands into his pocket. He can hear you walking towards the door, and his cock stirs knowing you're all his now. He hears the lock click and a second later you open the door with a confused look on your face. Your expression falls away, mouth parting slightly at the sight of him. He smirks down at you, not needing an invitation before he walks in.

He lazily looks around, eyes narrowing on the heater panel on the wall. He fucking hates that heater. He turns back to you just as you lock the door and turn to face him. There is a sort of electricity running through the air, and Miguel’s eyes slide down your form half-mast. You’re still wearing your jeans, but now he can see the long sleeve shirt you were wearing under your coat. It isn’t skin tight, but he can still see the outline of your breasts in it. He can feel his cock twitch in his pants as he focuses on the slight swell, but his eyes come back to your face. You look bashful, obviously catching him eye fucking you. Miguel doesn’t feel an ounce of shame, walking up to you slowly. You back up against the door, back hitting the wood. He doesn’t stop advancing until his chest is mere centimeters away from yours. With his close proximity, you’re forced to look up at him, wide eyes blinking cutely up at him.

It makes his eyes darken, and his hand comes to your face and strokes just under your eye.

“How was your little study date?” He asks, a dark smile on his face.

Your lashes flutter rapidly, lips parting, “It wasn’t a-”

Your words die off as Miguel’s other hand presses against your pants. His fingers expertly undo the button, and soft unzipping comes after. You try to look down, but Miguel’s hand around your face grabs your chin and keeps you looking up at him. Your chest brushes against him with every breath you take. Your eyes are glazed over, and that dazed look paints your face again. Miguel’s thumb plays with your bottom lip, his smirk dropping slightly.

“I asked you a question. Are you gonna answer it?”

“I-” you stutter out, thighs pressing together. You can feel a wetness filling your panties and your cheeks flush. “It wasn’t a date.”

Your voice is soft as you confess it, and Miguel finally coos at you. His smile comes back, still condescending. He hums in thought, hands falling to your hips. Slowly, he begins to descend to the floor, “Yeah? Why don’t you tell me about what you did and I’ll decide for myself.”

You stutter out another response as you watch him, thighs almost crossing over the other to relieve the ache in between them. His thumbs stroke just under the waistband of your jeans, his fingers hooking into the belt loops as he begins to drag the denim down your legs. Your mouth parts as he looks up at you, but no words escape. He shakes his head with a chuckle, parting your thighs once your pants pool at your feet. He leans forward, and you yelp as he presses his nose against your panties. Your hands fly to his hair, whimpering out as he groans. He can feel your damp arousal through your soaked panties, and the smell of it is intoxicating. He can’t resist the urge to lick at it through the fabric.

“Miguel!” You gasp out, eyes wide as you look down at him. His pupils are blown wide as he moves your panties to the side, coming face to face with your naked cunt.

Your clit pokes out to greet him, and there is a soft glistening around your folds. All for him. He curses at the sight, his tongue lapping at the small bud. It causes you to shriek, hands tightening in his hair. Miguel smirks at the noise, pulling away from your addictive pussy for a few minutes.

“I don’t hear much talking from you, nena.”

You choke on your breath as he licks at you again, lips falling open. Your sentences are stuttering, incomplete babbles, mind getting lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. You’re saying something about researching and some dead poet, but Miguel doesn’t really care. Your head leans back against the door as he slurps at you, his tongue flicking against your swollen bud and teasing your folds. You cry out his name again when his tongue pokes at your entrance, catching the arousal that dribbles out. His hand comes to the back of your thigh, lifting it over his shoulder as he sucks on you. You let out a loud moan as his tongue slides inside of you.

The groan he lets out vibrates against your whole body, and he gets drunk on the taste of you. His tongue explores your wet walls, moaning whenever they contract around the slippery muscle. He can feel the arousal on his face, and he tries to bury himself deeper into your cunt. You can’t help the high-pitched noise that leaves your mouth as his nose bumps repeatedly against your clit, stimulating you to the point that your legs feel like jelly. You can feel your leg buckle from under you, and the only thing keeping you up is Miguel’s head pressing your lower body against the door.

Your hips buck into his face as he switches between tongue-fucking your hole and sucking on your clit. Your pussy pulses against his mouth, and you can’t help the grinding you do as you use your hold on his hair to move his face against you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets you guide him, his groans vibrating against you. Some whines and whimpers leave your mouth, a hot ball forming in your stomach.

“Miguel, I’m… please,” You cry out, making Miguel chuckle against you.

His movements speed up, tongue lavishing you like a man starved. His eyes are hazy as they look up at you, watching your twisted face. Your mouth falls open, hiccuped noises leaving you until your entire body tenses. You cry out loudly, head pressing deeper into the wood of your door as you release. Miguel moans against you, eyes closing as he greedily laps at you for a taste of your sweet cum. Your chest heaves like crazy, and your lower body jolts from the overstimulation his tongue is giving you. Your hands weakly try to push his head away, and he whines disapprovingly against you before he submits to your silent order.

Your face flushes as you look down at him, his chin glistening with spit and your arousal. You feel yourself pulse when he licks his lips, collecting the remaining juices there with a moan. Your body goes slack against the door, and Miguel gently eases your leg off his shoulder. Your hands fall to his shoulders, using him as a way to keep you up as his hand places your panties back into their place. The wetness still coating your underwear is slightly uncomfortable, but you quickly forget it when Miguel comes face to face with you again. His face is still shiny, but that hunger in his eyes seems satisfied for now.

“Don’t think I like that boy around you,” He comments, eyes scanning your face. Your body jolts when his thumb presses into your clit, making you gasp. “And don’t think for a second he can make you feel the way I just did.”

You’re left speechless again, only capable of staring up at him and nodding numbly. He leans down and kisses you quickly, a thin coat of the sticky remains of your own arousal coating your lips as he pulls away. He moves you slightly, your body pressing against his chest as he opens your apartment door. He’s quick to turn the two of you around, not wanting anyone to see you in your underwear and post-orgasm daze. His mouth falls to the top of your head, planting a kiss to your hair. He pulls away from you as he goes out in the hall, leaving you standing inside your apartment.

“Don’t bring anymore boys home, cariño” He calls out teasingly, that smirk still on his face as he closes the door behind him.

You blink at your door, confused on how he left so casually. You look down at your jeans on the floor, slowly picking them up and holding them to your chest.

Why does he always leave?

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theorphicangel · 4 months

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thinking about showering with Miguel, nothing sexually implied, just you and him basking in each other’s presence.

Miguel knows your routine for your hair and he’s gentle when washing your hair for you. his fingers softly massaging your scalp, so softly in fact you can’t help but let out a few groans of at his touch.

“feel good, nena?”

“uh-uh don’t stop.”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

and he’s also so very gentle in washing your body and you his. he watches you as you lave soap over his body. as you wash his chest, you can’t help but notice him stare at you, his face merely centimetres away from you.

“you okay?” you ask.

he’s more than okay. he’s never been better than ever. he has all that he ever wanted right in front of him.

“I’m good.”

#angel’s miguel thoughts #angel writes #miguel o hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman astv #spider man #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #atsv headcanons

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moon-rivr · 4 months

Text

what happens in vegas

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: unplanned marriage, smut, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v, nipple play, miguel reassuring reader, biting

author’s note: i know i said i was gonna do requests but i got this idea and i felt like i rly needed to execute it 😭

word count: 4.7K

"Let's get married!"

You and Miguel had taken a trip to Las Vegas after he got a job promotion at Alchemax, wanting to commemorate the occasion. While the two of you weren't too necessarily invested in gambling, you both figured that losing your money in Las Vegas would make you guys learn the rules of the game fairly quickly. Miguel was able to retain the information with much more ease, making a profit of a hundred bucks at the end of the night.

After a couple rounds of blackjack had passed by, you turned to look at Miguel with a small pout on your face. "Can we go to the bar?" You asked him, still reeling from your previous loss. He turned to look at you, pressing a small kiss on the corner of your lips as a way to get rid of the pout. "I thought you were so excited to try out blackjack," He whispered, getting up from the stool regardless. "Yeah but I thought it'd be easier to learn," you responded, following after him to the bar. He compensated for the fifty bucks that you'd lost tonight, telling you that you were doing good for your first time each time that you fumed to yourself.

He motioned for the bartender to come over with one movement of his finger, heart-eyes practically replacing her pupils as she approached the two of you. You wrapped your arm around Miguel’s instinctively, holding him close to you as you shot the bartender a small smile. Miguel didn't say anything about the small act, simply ordering the two of you shots of tequila. "Tan bonita que te ves cuando estas toda celosa," he teased you, his hand coming down to your thigh as he gently squeezed the flesh. (you look so pretty when you’re all jealous) "But you have nothing to be jealous about. You're the only one I want," he added, his minty breath ghosting on your skin as he leaned into whisper in your ear.

You clenched your thighs together and thanked the bartender for your shot, gulping it down in one take. "Alright, let's try to keep ourselves under control this time. Last time we drank together, we ended up on a yacht to Miami," you spoke up after he gulped down his shot, his lips curling into an amused smirk. "It was a nice yacht to be fair. Very accessible places if you don't recall," he responded, motioning for the bartender to come refill the cups. Luckily for the both of you, the bar wasn't too full so you were able to get quick service. "Let's just get three drinks. Safe number I'd say," you said after a couple seconds, extending your hand out towards Miguel. "Might as well make it five, y'know? End on a nice clean number."

The two of you did not in fact stop at five shots, both of you laughing as you asked the bartender for more and more shots throughout the course of the night. After taking a few too many shots, you decided you wanted to do something reckless and stupid as a way to end the night which is how you came to essentially asking him to marry you. "You sure you wanna get married in Vegas, nena? Wanna get you a pretty dress like you deserve," he told you, slightly slurring on his words as the two of you waited for a cab outside. "I don't want a big wedding, I just wanna be with you," you told him, your words coming out slurred as well. He tapped on his chin, seemingly pretending to be lost thought before shrugging. "Let's get married in Vegas!"

The two of you ended up at a small drive-in wedding chapel near the hotel room, the taxi driver struggling to navigate with the directions that you were giving him. "What's the whole legality of this place? Is the Elvis lookalike at the front even qualified for this?" Miguel mused, always the smartass even when he was under the influence. "It's really easy to get ordained so I'm sure it's all legal," you responded, grabbing hold of his hand and leading him inside the chapel. The inside looked more like a commercial for another casino, bright neon signs of poker chips hanging on the walls. "It's just going to be you two?" You heard behind you, a woman standing at the front desk asking.

"Yeah, it's just us two. We wanna get married!" You told her, clasping your hands together as you turn to look at her. "Why else would you be at a chapel then?" The woman muttered to herself, grabbing a document from one of her folders before placing it on the desk facing you. "I'm gonna need the two of you to sign this. It's essentially your form of a marriage certificate, the two of you could share your own vows and whatnot. It is a legally binding agreement so make sure the two of you consider this carefully before the two of you sign," she spoke to the both of you, leaving the room so you two could come to a concrete decision. Despite the fact that you would probably end up regretting doing it this way when you were sober, you didn't have any objections at the moment.

"I don't feel like backing out, do you?" You asked Miguel, grabbing a pen from the side and scribbling your name on the line to the best of your ability. "I don't feel like backing out either," he replied, grabbing a pen of his own and doing the same thing as you. While the two of you looked at the paper, the signatures that the two of you made seemed to be prettiest in the moment. In reality, the two of you had completely slanted the words of your name and signed two inches below the line but luckily enough, the lady didn't exactly feel like arguing too much. She led Miguel out of the room, explaining to him on the way that she was taking him somewhere where he could rent a tux for the night.

The lady came back when the two of you had changed into your proper attire, carrying a small box of plastic rings. "Since I'm guessing the two of you don't have rings, feel free to pick one out," she told you, your attention immediately drawn to the one with a plastic diamond in the middle. Even though you knew that it wouldn't sparkle the same way a real one did, your eagerness to get married in the moment overpowered anything else. Miguel picked out a simple silver band, the material stretching out a little as he tried it on. He extended his arm out to you, your hand wrapping around it as he led you two where the Elvis lookalike priest was waiting.

The other couples that were there served as the perfect spectators, staying quiet as the two of you tumbled and laughed your way to the front of the church. "Alright alright, tonight we're here for the union of these two lovely people," the priest started off, his voice sounding forced as he tried to get the same Elvis twang. The ceremony went on without a hitch, despite the fact that your wedding vows had been improvised on the spot. Everyone there stayed quiet as the two of you simply stated how much you swore to love each other, how much you two honored this marriage. "By the power vested in me by lasvegasfreemarriagelicense.com, I now pronounce you two husband and wife!" The priest announced, your arms wrapping around Miguel’s neck once he approached you.

He pushed the veil away from your face, a couple of tears glossing his eyes threatening to break through his rough exterior before he leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours, dipping you down to give the other people in there a show. Scattered claps came out as a result, the two of you too eager in the newfound union to really pay any mind to anyone except each other. Miguel completely forgot that the outfits you two had on were simply for rent, leading you to the hotel down the street. You'd walked in with every intention to celebrate your wedding night with him, but as soon as you got onto his lap, you ended up falling asleep with the warmth that his body provided.

Your body felt like you'd just been ran over by an 18 wheeler, your head pounding as you opened your eyes to adjust to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. You wiped away at your eyes, the events from last night coming out in brief appearances, but the more that you tried to think about it, the more that your head ended up hurting. You turned over to see Miguel dressed up in a black tux, the material wrinkled from all the tossing and turning he'd been doing the previous night. You recalled getting married but you had dismissed it as one of your dreams. You shook him awake, his lips smacking against one another as he sat up.

"Is there any reason why you're waking me up this early? Especially after a night out," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes while his hair stuck out from every direction. "Did we get married last night or was that all just a part of my twisted dream?" You asked him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to look at you. "Well, you're in a wedding dress so I'm gonna have to say it's the first one," he responded, leaning back on the bed as he turned away from the sunlight. "Oh, this is a disaster!" you exclaimed, looking over at Miguel to expect him having the same sentiment that you did. He looked eerily calm about the situation, like he was actually content about the events that had taken place.

"Why is it a disaster? I mean, it's not the most ideal way to get married but I think that's taking it too far," he told you, your eyes widening slightly as you got up from the bed. "No, no! We need to get a divorce now," you exclaimed, watching as he stood up from the bed to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your shoulders as he looked down at you, letting out a small sigh. "Why is it that you want a divorce?" He asked you, his tone sounding gentle as a way to calm you down. It wasn't supposed to go this way, you were usually the one that had to calm him down. "Well, I don't know. What if you get tired of me and you end up not liking me? Or what if you end up resenting me because of this marriage? Or like, you could still want to be with someone better."

Miguel kept his gaze on yours, his thumb coming down to your chin as he forced you to look up at him. "Ay mujer, we could be on our death bed and you'd still be convinced i could find someone else. I don't know how many times I need to tell you but I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, I don't want anyone else other than you," he told you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest with how fast it was racing. "Look, I'll go get us some breakfast and we'll talk it over then. Go take a shower and let yourself calm down for a second before we jump to things like getting a divorce," he added, waiting for you to nod before leaving the room.

You got out of the shower to see a plate with chicken soup on it, your favorite flavor of Gatorade by the side of it. "How about we do this? I'll give you a three month period, just to test out the marriage. If you don't like it, then we get divorced. If you do end up liking the idea of us being married, then we can renew our vows and have a proper ceremony. How does that sound?" He asked you, taking a sip from his own soup. "That sounds manageable. Okay, we can do that," you responded, taking small sips of the soup so you wouldn't hurt your stomach too badly. After the two of you were finished eating, you settled down onto his lap and pressed your lips against his neck. "We didn't get to celebrate our wedding night the way we deserved, Mr. O’Hara," you told him, your voice sounding like pure sin to his ears. "We should change that, Mrs. O’Hara."

He led you to the top of the bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovered on top of yours. He took a moment to take you in, how the light coming from the curtains accentuated your every feature. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your forehead and moving on to your cheeks. "You’re so breathtaking Mrs. O’Hara," he whispered, his mouth coming to yours as he kissed you with such an intensity you'd never faced before. For someone that had a lot of doubts about the marriage at first, you didn't mind the sound of being called Mrs. O’Hara. in fact, hearing him say it with such pride had you clenching your thighs together.

Your tongue danced with his in what seemed to a synchronized tango, the two of you treating each other with as much love and affection that your bodies could exude at the moment. His hands toyed with the hem of your towel, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh. You brought your hands up to his face when you two pulled away from the kiss, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose. "There's no need for you to give me that three month period. I overreacted, I want to be your wife," you told him, coming to the realization that you’d just been spiraling. His lips connected themselves to your mouth once more, a smile on his face as he did.

He undid your towel after you gave him a curt nod, tossing it off to the side. he pressed his lips to the side of your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on the surface. You moved your neck to give him more access, offering what you could of your body so he could take. his hand moved downward, cupping your breast in his grasp. His fingers rolled around the nipples, pinching and tugging them the way that would have them hardening underneath his grasp. He bit down on your neck, his tongue running over the affected skin to soothe the sting a bit. His mouth moved down to your other breast, engulfing it and treating it the same as the other one.

You brought your hand down to his hair, grasping at the strands as his teeth gently tugged on your nipples. The buds started to erect with every swipe and lick that he took at them, his eyes locking on yours with every movement that he took. Your mouth slightly parted, your breathing starting to grow a little heavier as he stimulated your nipples. He pulled away, leaving a small kiss on the top of your breasts before pressing his lips against your stomach. He trailed kisses all the way down to your cunt, stopping where he knew that you needed him most. His lips moved to your inner thighs, pressing kisses against the delicate flesh. He bit into your right thigh, his fangs leaving their indenture when he pulled away from you.

His mouth eventually did make itself to your cunt, his tongue swiping across your folds to collect the slick that had accumulated. You closed your thighs around his head instinctively, watching as he looked up at you while licking a stripe up your pussy. "Always did taste so good for me, could spend hours buried in this pussy," he spoke up, his tongue going inside your hole after he finished with what he had to say. Your hands made their way to his hair, your fingers gently stroking his hair as he started to push his tongue in and out of you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when your slick coated his tongue, often taking more pleasure in this than you. "Oh fuck, right there," you moaned out, your voice sounding needy as you felt his tongue hit that one spot inside of you.

You felt the bed moving with every lick that he took, your eyes drifting downwards to see that Miguel was thrusting his hips into the mattress with every lick and swipe that he took. He'd told you before that he could get off on just tasting you, on seeing the way that you reacted to him but you'd never quite understood the extent of his words until now. He pulled away, licking at the slick coating his lips and chin before moving his mouth down to your clit. His fingers took place of his mouth, two of them already filling you up to the brim as he stretched out to his liking. His fingers curled as his tongue circled around your clit, your hips practically grinding against his face to get the friction that you needed.

"That's right baby, use me however you want to. I’m yours to use however you want to," he told you, the vibrations from his voice providing your clit with extra stimulation. You began writhing underneath his grasp, tugging at the bedsheets and at his hair as you felt yourself approaching your orgasm. You weren't sure where to tug at, how to express your need and desire to cum, but you didn't have to. Miguel could read your body almost better than you could at times, his movements remaining the same as he worked you through your orgasm. "That's good, you're doing so good for me mama. Just come when you're ready," he told you, the last vibration on your clit had you gripping his hair while your release coated his tongue.

You looked down to see him licking the slick with a blissed out look on his face, the release shining as the sunlight hit his face. You got up from the bed, pushing him to the edge as you got on your knees. You were eager to please him after seeing how much he seemed to be affected by just eating out, his cock straining against the thin material of his boxers when you tugged his pants down. You traced the outline of his cock, hearing Miguel take a sharp intake of breath. Your palm gently pressed against his cock, watching as he began to unravel for you. "Please stop teasing me, mi amor. Need to feel your mouth wrapped around me."

You took off his boxers, your lips pressing against his thighs the same way that he'd done to yours. You gently bit down, your teeth leaving their print on the same thigh that he'd left his in. Your lips gently ghosted at the tip of his cock, stopping yourself for only a couple seconds just to see the sheer desperation cross over his features. His brows were furrowed as he looked down at you, his pupils blown as he waited for you to started. You pressed a small kiss on the tip, giving it a small kitten lick. At the small motion, his cock already began to twitch underneath your grasp. Your tongue began to trace the veins of his cock, his hand coming to the back of your neck as his mouth slightly parted.

You'd seen Miguel in a number of positions and situations, but you always thought he looked the prettiest when he was like this. All needy and desperate for your touch. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took the tip of his cock in your mouth, your tongue swirling around it. "Oh shock," you heard from the man above you, a sense of pride at how much you affected him coursing through your veins. You took more of his cock in your mouth, trying not to trigger your gag reflex so early on. You began to push your head up and down as your cheeks hollowed, more of his cock being able to fit in your mouth. Small groans and moans came out from miguel, the sounds filling up the room along with your slurping.

You spat onto his cock, the messiness only becoming more appealing to Miguel as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He watched the fake diamond of the ring reflect the sunlight with every stroke you took, getting distracted when your hands came down to his balls. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sensation of your tongue and hands working in tandem to provide him with every sensation he desired. You pushed his cock deeper into your throat, ignoring the tears threatening to come out before pulling away with a 'pop.' Your hands tugged at his balls, massaging them in your grasp as you stuffed your mouth full of his dick.

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth a couple seconds later, a telltale sign that he was approaching his orgasm. "Shock, I'm so close. Keep going, mama. Make me cum," he groaned, his head moving back while you kept stimulating him. You continued with the same intensity from earlier, his cock shooting ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away from his cock once every drop of cum had landed on your mouth, swallowing the substance. He extended his hand out to you, helping you up from the floor before dipping his head down to meet yours in a kiss. You could still taste your previous release in his mouth, the combined taste of both of you making your head fuzzy.

He led you to the bed once more, setting you down on your back as his cock ran through your folds. "I'm gonna keep showing you how much I love you. Every day. Until you get it stuck in that little head of yours that there is nobody else other than you for me," he told you, pushing his cock into you in a swift motion. The response you were planning to give him died in your throat, getting replaced by a small gasp when you felt your walls engulf his cock to the best of their ability. Your walls fluttered around his cock while your cunt got used to the intrusion, no matter how many times the two of you had sex, it was always a bit of a stretch at the beginning. He held your hand while he waited for the sting between your legs to subside, kissing your temple.

"You always take me so well, you know that? Don't know why you think I want someone else when you take me so well," he whispered, kissing your cheek before retracting his cock when you gave him the okay. He pushed his cock in once more, the length and thickness of his cock filling you up to the brim. Miguel kept his eyes locked on your face, to gauge for any reactions of discomfort or pain before pulling away again. He started off slow, his thrusts slow and deep as he got you to ease up around him. "That's it, that's my girl. Pussy's practically gripping my cock," he told you, his voice coming out slightly breathless as he pushed his cock inside of you once more.

Once he saw that you were more receptive to the movements that he was making, he started moving his hips faster inside of you, his heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs with every thrust that he took. His hands came underneath your legs before he placed them onto his shoulders. The new angle felt like his cock was drilling into your cunt, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix every time that he moved. Your hands came down to his arms, slightly clawing at them as your mouth parted. The entire hotel room screamed sex as moans escaped from the two of you and as your fluids mixed together in the bedsheets. Even with the lewdness of the scene, the entire action between the two of you was nothing less than a display of love.

You'd had sex with Miguel where it was a rush to take each other's clothes off, teeth nipping at each other as your mouths collided together, but this was everything that those times weren't. This time was slow and sensual, his main focus being to prove to you the amount of love that he shared for you. You felt it with every thrust that he took inside of you, his touch and love imprinting into your skin with every second that passed. You gripped his arms as a form of keeping yourself grounded, your back slightly arching from the bed as he started to speed up the intensity of the thrusts. He brought his head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. While you loved to have sex with him, it was the little fleeting moments of intimacy that had you giggling when you recalled the events at a later time.

Your walls clenched around his cock like a vice, engulfing him even deeper with every push of his hips. Even with the sweat that was starting to drip down from Miguel’s forehead, you couldn't help but think about how breathtaking he looked. He looked so heavenly as he focused on your pleasure, the sun kissing his tan skin in the perfect way. "Keep going, I'm almost there," you moaned as you felt his thumb touch your clit, the sudden touch making sparks run down your body. Your legs began to tremble as you got closer to your orgasm, the coil building up inside you threatening to snap with every thrust that he took. "That's it, you're doing so good," Miguel whispered, talking you through your impending orgasm.

Your release coated his cock completely as you came, the slick giving him easier access into your cunt as he chased his own orgasm. Your back slumped back against the bed as you started to come down from the high, watching the determined look on Miguel’s face as he worked through his own orgasm. He let out a groan as his head lolled forward, ropes of cum shooting inside of you. With his cock still of you, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "You always do such a good job, y'know? Truly an outstanding performance," he mused, pulling his cock out gently so as to not hurt you during the process. "Wasn't aware I was getting graded," you mumbled, looking over at him as he grabbed some towels from a dresser nearby.

He ended up taking you to the jacuzzi room downstairs, letting the jets cool down the coils that'd built up in your legs. He held you in between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist while his head dipped down to your neck. He gently pressed some kisses there, his hands gently scratching on your back as the warm water filled you with a feeling of relaxation. "I'm sorry for overreacting about the wedding, I know that the circumstances aren't exactly ideal but I wouldn't change anything about being your wife," you spoke up after a while, his mouth moving to your shoulder. "I know Mrs. O’Hara. Trust me, I know," he whispered, his voice laced with pure affection.

Despite the fact that you told Miguel that you wouldn't be needing the three month trial period, he still asked you at the end of it if you wanted to get divorced. After hearing you say no, the two of you began to arrange a small ceremony solely for your family and friends to renew your vows. While the situation wasn't something ideal at first, it provided you both with the type of comedy material that had everyone laughing when you told the story at parties. You loved to see the way that Mayday clapped her little hands as you told her the story at a Christmas party once like she understood, Miguel’s hands all over you when the two of you got home that night. "How would you feel about starting a family in Vegas?"

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astroboots · 10 months

Text

Every You Every Me #Issue 5

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally catch Spiderman in your bed and try to get answers to the many many questions you have.

Word count: 3,200 words.

Content: Awkward one bed shenanigans, teensy bits of angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You wake to the glare of the morning sun spilling through the curtains.

Your first waking thought is that it. is. so. bright. God, why is it so fucking bright.

Your second thought is that you need to pee.

There is no third. Because your bladder is killing you.

There's just one not-so-small problem, and he's lying on top of you, in the same position he fell asleep in last night. Wrapped all around you, clinging on like you're a soft comfort blankie he refused to be weaned off of.

It's not... unpleasant, exactly (your need to pee aside).

For such a large man, being trapped underneath him is more comfortable than you might have expected. He's heavy, sure, but the pressure feels more like a weighted blanket with the way he's draped across your body, arms curled around your waist and back.

It helps that the sheer size disparity means that you're too small of a surface area for his whole body to cover and most of his weight rests on the mattress.

Rather than suffocating, it’s almost… cozy.

It must be really early in the morning, because your room is nearly silent. You can’t hear the familiar New York traffic. The noise of honking cars, angry shouting people and screaming cop sirens outside of your window. Instead, in the quiet of the morning the only noise you hear is the sound of his soft snoring against your collarbone.

Before today, you never knew superheroes snore. It’s not the sort of mundane thing you ever think about superheroes doing.

You stare up at him for a minute, soft skin and long lashes fluttering across his cheeks, marveling that he looks so... human.

Which of course he does. The observation shouldn’t really surprise you. For all the fantastical mythos that surrounds them, at the end of the day, most superheroes are human beings.

…Unless you're talking about Thor, of course, who’s an actual Viking God. And maybe not Hulk either, because... well... look at him. He’s all green and roided out, you don’t know what he is but he’s certainly not human. And then there’s– Okay, you know what, now that you actually think about it, a lot of superheroes are not human at all.

Maybe that’s why last night took you so much by surprise. You always thought they were invincible. You’d never guess that a slice of coffee cake could bring one down, collapsing as easily like a poorly built house of cards.

Even more surprised when he’d held onto you, pleading for you to stay.

When you see the Avengers plastered on the front cover of every newspaper, they look larger than life. When you see Captain America and his star-spangled shield sparkling in the centerfold of the Times, you never really stop to consider, what’s he like when the mask comes off.

In some abstract way, you were aware that superheroes have lives beyond just superheroing. You just never thought about the fact that a lot of them probably have families at home that they worry about. Friends that they care for. People they miss.

Nena

He'd said.

The person he mistook you for last night.

Something squeezes uncomfortably tight in your chest just remembering the tone in his voice when he said it.

Something is going on here. It's clear to you now even more so than before, that this man doesn’t just keep saving you out of sheer coincidence. There’s a mystery here that’s all tied together in an interconnected web somehow and you're pretty sure it has to do with this Nena person. She is most likely the answer to why your whole life has been upended in the last few months.

You need to find out what is going on and now that he's physically here, right in front of you, as soon as he wakes you can finally ask him and get some answers that are long overdue.

You just really need to fucking pee first.

Gingerly, you wedge an arm between your chest and his. You attempt to slowly and carefully pry open the stranglehold he has on you, hoping to scoot up and out of his arms.

He grunts in reply, still soundly asleep, and his arms tighten their hold on you, pulling you back into him as he burrows his face into your chest.

"Five more minutes," he grumbles, voice raspy with sleep. "Nena, it's too early."

There it is again, that nickname. You freeze, holding as still as possible, feeling your heart skip a beat at the tone of his voice as he said it. It’s said with so much fondness and hints at so much familiarity each time he has said it.

You don't know what you're meant to do in this situation. Except you clearly can’t let him go on thinking you’re… whoever it is that he thinks you are for much longer.

There are the muddy moral implications of allowing this to go on any further after all, considering that the man probably has no idea where he is after you practically roofied him with baked goods.

You also still really need to go pee already.

He shifts against you, one thick, heavy thigh wrapping over your leg and pulling you in further before coming to a rest directly on top of your bladder. Okay, fuck, you take back what you said about this not being unpleasant. This is really, really unpleasant.

You need him to get up now.

Forcing your hand free, you reach up to give him a polite tap on the shoulder. When polite doesn’t get you any results, you do it harder, three successive taps, and he still doesn’t even stir. You keep tapping, progressively harder until you’re punching him hard enough that any normal person would be yelping in pain and begging you to stop.

He groans once, arms shifting to secure his hold on you. For a moment you think he’s going to ask for another ‘five minutes,’ but then the whole of his body goes stiff, every muscle suddenly rigid with tension. A suspended silence permeates the space, and you find yourself holding your breath unsure of what to do next. The silence is broken by the sound of your bedsheets shifting, and you feel the firm hold around your waist ease off, his arms and legs retreating from your body.

He's up and out of bed in one smooth move, almost faster than you can follow. By the time you struggle upright in bed (much less gracefully) he's already standing a few feet away, hands fisted at his sides.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you and then off to the side like he can’t quite bring himself to meet your eyes, a bright flush burning high on his cheeks, “I… uh… I thought you were someone else."

His hulking frame towers over your bed, but he’s acting like a sulky, embarrassed little boy. The contrast should be absurd, but instead you find it… strangely endearing. Apparently even a high and mighty superhero can be brought low by an awkward situation, just like everyone else.

"It's okay. You didn't... um... do anything weird or anything," you say, trying to reassure him, but you can't concentrate on your words when your bladder is screaming bloody murder, "Look, can you give me a second? Just– shit. Just stay right there, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!" you admonish him, throwing the words over your shoulder as you rush past him and into the bathroom

You nearly break your tailbone with how fast you sit down on the toilet seat, hoping to get your business done as quickly as possible and praying the whole 15 seconds that you’re gone that he won’t make a break for it and still be there when you get back.

Thankfully, when you nearly tear the bathroom door from its hinges, he is.

The first sight that greets you is his broad and defined back framed by the amber light pouring in from your window frame. It makes for a dramatic image. Golden and majestic, he seems to occupy half the space in your tiny apartment as he stands turned away from you, apparently taking in the view from your one and only window.

The first thing he says to you as he opens your mouth is not, ‘good morning.’ There's no ‘sorry for almost drunkenly smothering you to death last night,’ ‘how did you sleep with my hulk sized body on top of you’ or even a 'thanks for letting me sleep on your bed.'

No. Rude, knock off, maybe-vampire Spiderman, who still hasn't told you his name, slowly turns back towards you and takes one look at your face. Then he says, "I have to go."

Which, of course that’s what he’d say and do. Of course. You’re nearly growling with frustration as you run up to him.

"Wait!" you shout, darting around to block his path as you try to lead him back further into your apartment. "Do you want some breakfast?"

You still don't know him very well yet, but your few interactions so far have shown you that the way to break through his grumpy defenses is through his stomach.

"I can fix you up something. I’ve got some eggs in the fridge, and I can do scrambled or fried. Maybe over-easy, though I sometimes mess up the timing.”

You’re rambling on purpose. Speaking as fast as you can, as you continue to pull him towards your kitchen. You’re making sure he can’t get a word in edgewise, so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest before the food is in his stomach, and by then he’ll surely eat the whole thing before he starts getting sassy with you again. By then you’ll hopefully be able to sneak in one or two questions between mouthfuls.

He shakes his head, "No, I–I have to go... I wasn't supposed to..."

Not a fan of eggs, you note. It makes sense, so far the only thing you've ever seen him eat is baked goods, probably has a sweet tooth.

"I could make you pancakes? I won't even put coffee in them, I promise," you tease gently, hoping the humor might pull a smile from him.

It doesn't. If anything, his eyes look even sadder.

He stops mid-step, and no matter how much of your weight you put in trying to herd and push him towards your kitchen, he won’t budge an inch. You’d have more success moving a bull by its horns, and considering he’s bigger built than one, that tracks.

There’s no strain in his features, as he stays still, resistant to your efforts. "This is a mistake,” he says. “I should never have gotten involved."

He's moving again, this time away from you, stepping towards the window. Shit, he's going to make a run for it.

In the course of the last 24 hours you've managed to leap off the Chrysler building; poison the superhero standing in front of you; slept with him in the same bed; and yet somehow, through all of this, you still haven't managed to do the one thing you actually wanted: have a simple conversation with him.

"Wait, wait!" you shout out, panicky. "Can we just talk for a second? I really need to talk to you. I just want some answers.”

"I don't have any answers for you," he says.

He's turned his back again, one hand on the window sill as he's preparing to climb onto it. If you let him leap off it now, you don’t know when your next chance will be to catch him again.

"I'm not going to stop trying," you shout out in a last desperate attempt and that finally stops him in his tracks.

“I’m gonna be leaving,” he says with a finality in his words.

It doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t even discourage you. He might be stubborn, but you can give him a run for his money, because this is your life on the line.

“Then I’ll run after you. I’ll keep chasing after you. I'll keep asking, and asking, and asking. I'm not going to stop until you give me some answers."

There’s a silence between you again. Then he straightens his posture, and turns his head just far enough that you can catch his eyes. Whatever uncertainty was there before fades away as you see the resolve in his eyes harden.

"You're never going to see me again."

There's an ugly noise. A scratch over the vinyl of a record screeching in your brain that makes you unable to comprehend his words. You have to replay them in your mind, parsing them out, before you realize what he's actually telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean never see you again!?” you step forward towards the window sill, and he visibly retreats at your advance. “As in, you're going to back to avoiding me? It’s kind of late for that, isn't it? I've seen your face... twice. We’ve slept together!"

"No," he answers brusquely, brows pulled in at a sharp angle. “I'm leaving the… area. I'm not going to be around anymore."

“But you’ll be back… right?” you ask. Some corner of your brain refuses to accept what you think he’s telling you.

With a graceful movement, he leaps back down from the window sill, taking a step forward and leaning in until he’s looming over you, his face inches from your own.

“No,” he repeats, emphasizing the word.

Oh…

His words finally click. It took a few attempts for the stubborn gear in your brain to unjam, but you finally hear what he’s been trying repeatedly to tell you.

He’s leaving for good. He’s not coming back.

You… You don’t know how you feel. Your cheeks are strangely numb. Somehow the idea that he might not be around indefinitely had never occurred to you. You’ve grown accustomed to the safe haven he’s provided. Come to rely on him and the familiar safety of his shadow lurking around every corner, the blurred blue and red rescuing you from this crazy world trying to kill you.

A flash of cold sweat breaks out along your back. His presence is your only anchor to safety. If he’s not here…

"But– but– if you leave…” You trail off, barely able to imagine it.

All the near-misses flash through your mind. The taco truck stampeding through the city, the subway train barrelling towards you, construction sites crashing down right above your head. So many deaths held at bay by the one man in front of you, and if he leaves… If he’s gone…

You can barely choke out the next words, your voice a strangled whisper, “...what’s going to happen to me?”

A flash of anguish breaks through his stony features before he turns away, dropping his gaze to his feet. Pained sadness bleeds into those crimson eyes, something that speaks of guilt, loss and defeat.

"I’m sorry," he says quietly, "I can't save you. I never could. Nothing can."

And what can you say to that? You can’t force him to do more for you than he already has. He’s done a lot—much more than anyone has to, superhero or not, and you know that—and it’s selfish of you to ask more.

You swallow down the anxiety crawling up your throat and it tastes like burnt bile.

Anyone would be lucky to have a superhero save them from certain death even once in their lifetime, and somehow you've been blessed with more times than you can count.

In fact, you’ve been spoiled rotten, managing to escape death so many times that you've grown almost… complacent about it. Expecting him to rescue you, when really you've been living on borrowed time for months now, winning one lottery ticket after another. You've had more extra time than anyone could ever wish for.

In front of you, you see him moving again. If you let him go like this, then this is it. This is where it all ends. Without him, it’s only a matter of time before death catches up with you again—for good this time.

You shake your head, refusing the defeat. It may be selfish, greedy even, but this is your life and you can’t let it end here.

You don’t want to die. You made a promise to yourself when you fell out of the Chrysler building for the first time.

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live.

"Wait! Please..." You grab onto his hand, and even though you have no doubt he could break free from your desperate grip with very little effort, he stops for you.

"I don't know what's going on! Every day I walk out that door, and almost die again and again and again. I'm scared and confused, and it seems like the universe is hellbent on killing me, and you're the only clue I've got as to why. The only reason I'm still alive is because you keep saving me. I know that it’s selfish to ask you this, because you don’t owe me anything. But…”

You pause, drawing in a deep breath, and say the words with your whole chest, “I want to live!”

He doesn’t quite flinch, but the hand at his side twitches and then he’s reaching up to you. So close, you can almost feel his knuckles grace the side of your cheek. Then he stops, a fraction of an inch from your face.

He tilts his head to the side, like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.

Must be some other emergency your unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man needs to be on his way to. You try to push down the unexpected envy boiling in your stomach at the thought.

Although… now that you’re listening, you can hear something too. Something like the low hum of a helicopter, growing louder all the time.

Must be a police chopper. Traffic ‘copters aren’t allowed to fly so low.

Abruptly, the light flees your apartment. Shadow sweeps across your window and covers everything in pitched darkness.

A blackout? But it's morning, even if the power went out, the sun should still be–

You feel it before you see it in the dark, a tight grip on your wrist pulling you. His arm slams across your waist, yanking you backwards.

The world lurches around you, receding with a deafening roar of collapsing concrete and shrieking metal. The last thing you see is the wall of your apartment disappearing in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.

Your stomach drops sickeningly. Bright light flashes across your vision in intense rainbow-colored bursts. Pink. Red. Green. Blue. You have to close your eyes as wind whips mercilessly against your cheeks, loud impossible roaring in your ears.

Is this death? Somehow you thought it would be quieter. Calm.

Still.

And then it is. Everything stops, and when you finally dare open your eyes again, there’s…

Nothing.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my lovely collaborator @thirstworldproblemss who is always staying up brainstorming with me, listen to my insane ramblings, plotting each scene in the outlines and helping me beta and edit and even rewrite large chunks of paragraphs I'm unhappy with til the very last minute. Truly my favorite person in all of the lands. I love you!!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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