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#spiderman x fem!reader
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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: Coming home for the summer back to the farm had it's perks. One of them being, you get to help out the owner of the ranch next door, Peter Parker. As they say- save a horse, ride a cowboy.
Warnings: thigh riding, over stim, BREEDING KINK, pet names, sir kink, praise kink, dumbification kink, degradation kink, tit play, smut implied, choking, cum feeding, teasing, swearing, yelling & booze mentioned ( readers father gets drunk & mad), age gap ( reader is mid 20s, peter is 40s), i let all my daddy issues shine through with this one yall, saddle up!!
Notes: "you're in the wind, i'm in the water- nobody's son, nobody's daughter... watching the chemtrails over the country club" - lana del rey, chemtrails over the country club
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The caw of the rooster woke you every morning.
You didn’t have the luxury of an alarm clock, the blaring red numbers and constant blaring every five seconds being replaced with the trickle of the sunrise through your dainty lace curtains, the weight of your dog Harley jumping on your legs.
You didn’t mind.
It was a nice change from the sound of the bustling streets, the yelling of people down below mixed with the consistent sirens.
You loved your little apartment in the city, your roommate always providing you with comfort and kind words with a side of her jasmine tea.
But you had missed home.
You missed breathing in fresh, clean air, the soft breeze that would sway through the willow trees by the creek. You missed the feeling of the warm sunlight beating on you as you sat in the pasture with the cows, often sketching them while your father would yell at you to feed them, not just give them therapy sessions.
You could already hear their mooing from by the barn, causing you to sit up with a stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you scrambled out from under the sheets.
An extra pep was in your step as you scurried down the hall to the washroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time.
Today was the day.
You braided your hair in little pigtails, wrapping little pink bows to finish them off, smiling at your reflection in the mirror.
Today, you'd be seeing Mr. Parker again. Mr. Parker was your neighbour, the owner of the ranch right next to your farm. Your father had introduced him to you the second you had hauled in your suitcases in the door for the summer, and you nearly had fallen to your knees right then and there.
He was a living Adonis, his boyish smile making your face heat more than the stale summer heat outside.
I offered you up to help Mr.Parker this summer Y/N. His boys left the ranch to settle in the city before their first year at University.
Now typically, you hated when your father did this. This, little thing where he’d offer you around to the villagers like carol songs on Christmas, announcing that’d you'd be helping them with chores, without charge.
Of course, you couldn't just say no- being rude was not in your nature. But it irked you to no end when you’d have to scrub Mrs. Dorris's endless pile of dishes, or when you were forced to shovel manure on Mr. Hill’s barn with a smile plastered on your face.
But this wasn't Mrs. Dorris, and sure as hell wasn't Mr. Hill. This was Mr. Parker.
I’ll go easy on ya darlin. he had said with a wink, when the look of surprise was stunned upon your face at your father's words. Your heart had fluttered, hands went clammy as your fidgeted with your sundress. The thought of him and the words that rolled off his tongue had you smiling, a blush staining your cheeks as you ran back to your bedroom, slipping on the prettiest shirt you owned, and a pair of jeans that hugged your curves like a glove.
A basket filled with fresh berries and slices of homemade bread you had prepared last night was wrapped in flannel linen as you kissed your father on the cheek, and rushed out the door.
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“Come in!” the husky voice called in response to your soft knocking on the oak door, sending shivers down your spine as you creaked it open, peeping your head inside. The sight had you nearly falling to your knees, the basket near slipping from your fingers.
You had walked in on him buttoning up the last of his white dress shirt, his beautiful, calloused hands adjusting the silver watch at his wrist. There was no ring on his finger, you noted.
Part of you hated yourself for feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you at the bareness of his hands, the other side encouraged it.
It was agony, wanting this man. You knew deep down, it probably wasn't right, him being a little younger than your father. Yet you couldn't stop the feelings you felt, no matter how much you tried to repress them back down. They bubbled to the surface, with every smile he gave you, with every word that spilled from his lips.
“Hello, love.” he smiled, bringing your attention up to his soft, brown eyes, the sunlight shining on them, turning them caramel.
“Hello sir.” you smiled softly placing the basket of goodies on the table, clasping your hands together. As if your inner conscious knew if you didn't, you'd reach out to touch the living artwork of the man, running your fingers down the planes of his shoulders, across his sharp jawline, through the strands of his silky hair from under that damn hat…
“Are those for me darlin’?” he asked, tugging you out of your daydream. “They're from Daddy's bushes outback… I picked some yesterday. The bread I made last night.” you blushed, watching as he popped a raspberry in his mouth.
Juices stained his fingers, in which you watched him suck them clean, his eyes boring into yours the entire time, gaze mischievous.
You gulped.
“You shouldn't have love. You’re too sweet.” he winked, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he brushed past your frame. “You give little treats to everyone darlin?” he asked, eyebrow raised as he held the door open, nudging for you to step back outside with him.
You obeyed.
“Only the ones I like.” you teased, earning a laugh from him. It was your new favourite sound, you decided, as light and airy as the birds who chirped from the branches of his oak trees.
“I’m honoured, sweetheart.”
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Mr. Parker stood true to his word, of course. He did go easy on you.
Not once did you lift a finger, as much as you offered to. He just shooed you off with a smile, saying today was an “introduction day”.
You were given a tour of his property, its beautiful pasture and meadows appearing like a painting in your mind. You couldn't help but smile as you watched some horses gallop in the meadow, their manes blowing in the gentle breeze as the grass swayed. It was stunning here. All seven hundred acres of it.
From the little apple trees that bloomed white in the spring to the creek that stretched to the back of his property, you never wanted to leave here. Especially if Mr. Parker would be here.
The day was drawing near, the afternoon heat diminishing as he took you around his barn, showing you all the horses that nicked in their stalls. You’ll mostly be helping out here, if that's alright darlin. Just keeping them fed, watered, clean and maybe even on some rides while I get stuff done out back. He had told you as you scratched a pinto mare's forehead lovingly, laughing as he snorted at you.
“I saved the best for last.” he teased, leading you to very last stall. A gorgeous chestnut mare poked its head out from the opening, it’s doe eyes wide as it took you in.
“This is Layla. She’s truly something.” Sure enough, a golden plate with Layla was underneath her long neck, glimmering brightly as the sunlight trickled through the open doors. “She's beautiful.” you gasped, placing your hand out for her to sniff.
“Layla’s the first horse I ever bought. Don't let her age fool you though, she runs as fast as the greens our back.” he joked, scratching her neck gently. “She seems very friendly.” you nodded, your heart seeming to triple three sizes as she nudged Peter's body, as if to say- more attention on me please!
“Oh she's a sweetheart. She's my good girl, aren't you Layla? Such a good girl.” he cooed, patting her neck.
The barn suddenly became hot, the sticky afternoon heat reappearing as your cheeks flushed. Such a good girl.
Those four words alone had you keening, causing you to chew on your cheek as you clenched your thighs together, kicking little pebbles as a means to calm down.
Those words weren't sexual. They were not intended for you. So why did it feel like it was?
You wanted to slap yourself silly for thinking this way, taking something so innocent and contorting it into… whatever this was. The dampness in your panties increased as he turned his attention towards you, a grin on his face.
Almost as if he knew. Almost as if he could see right through you.
“So does that sound okay then love? Lookin after them?” You nodded, following suit after Peter as he turned on his heel, heading back out the main doors. “Good. Wanna make sure you're comfortable here, okay?”
“Yes Mr. Parker. Thank you, um, for showing me the ropes and stuff today.” you blushed. “Of course darlin’. And-” He stopped you with the gentle touch of his hand, the feeling warm against your goosebump ridden skin.
“Don't be afraid to come over after hours okay? If you need anything at all, I’m here.” His eyes bore into yours, the softness they portrayed making you hypnotised.
You would do anything this man asked of you. You'd come over every day, every night, every hour if that's what Peter wanted.
“Thank you sir. You’re too kind.” The fact his grip tightened slightly at your words didn't go unnoticed by you. Nothing ever did, when it involved him. “Have a good evening darlin’.”
It was going to be a very, very long summer indeed.
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“YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH GIRL!” Your fathers' cruel voice and the sound of the glass hitting the floor echoed, his whisky coating the floor with its bitterness had you running for the door with a cry.
Your vision was blurry as you sniffled, tears making your eyes red and puffy as you sobbed. The door slammed behind you with a thud, your legs carrying you as fast as they could down the steps and to the driveway.
You needed out.
You needed away from this house, and your fathers booze stained breath. His temper raged when he drank, and that was many times this week.
Many, many times.
The cool air soothed your heaving lungs, the cicadas buzzing under the moon distracting the buzzing in your brain. You couldn't think of anywhere else to go but, well… Peters.
The offer he had given you the first day of your time on the ranch blazed in your memory like a wildfire, his soothing voice numbing the pain.
You wanted to see him.
The idea of his soft embrace and charming smile sent your feet running down the driveway, down the road and to his house. You prayed the offer still kept. You had worked for Peter nearly every day this summer, and when you didn't work, you still often dropped by to give him little treats and pastries.
It was too late to second guess yourself any longer as you clambered over the closed gate, lock and chains jangling as you jumped down. Cursing yourself for wearing a little lace nightgown, you made your way down the long driveway.
There was dim lighting from behind his curtains, and you were thankful he wasn't asleep. The guilt that would wash over you if he was would never leave. You made your way up the front porch steps, rattling on his door quietly, The curtains shuffled as he made his way to the door, creaking it open slowly.
“Y/N? Darlin are you okay?” he asked gently, a look of concern on his face as he shooed you in. “I know its late, Mr. Parker sir but I just…”
You burst out into tears, hands covering your face as you cried. You felt his large frame wrap around you in a comforting embrace, swaying you side to side in his arms.
“Shhh, shh its okay love. Just let it out, atta girl.” he cooed softly, stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you gripped his shirt like your life depended on it.
“M’so sorry sir.” you sniffled, rubbing your nose as he lead you over to the couch. “Hey, never ever apologise honey. I told you that you could over anytime, did I not?”
You nodded softly, glancing up to meet his gaze. “Exactly. Can you tell me what happened love?”
His voice was so rich, so smooth and dreamy you never wanted him to stop talking. Each word was a note from a symphony, blending together in perfect harmony. You trusted him. More than anything, you trusted him. Which is why you told him everything.
“Dad was drinking again and he- he started getting mad again. Throwing stuff and yellin, blaming me for things I- I have no control over.” you sniffled, his palm cupping your cheek as he whipped your stray tear with his thumb.
“Oh honey I’m so sorry. That's not very nice of him is it?” You shook your head. “He’s being so cruel to you angel. But I’m so proud of you for coming over, you did the right thing.” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly.
You felt your heart thud madly in your chest, its beat in sync with the cantering stallions in the barnyard. His skin smelt of oak as he drew you even closer to him, sliding your body across his lap. There was nearly no space between the two of you now, but you didn't care.
Peter was here now.
He’d take care of you.
“He’s always telling me mean things, it makes me cry. I don't like to cry very much Mr. Parker.” you whispered, the throbbing in your core becoming more prominent as he began to bounce his knee.
Up down, up down.
You hiccuped softly as his hand came to rest on your thigh, tracing circles gently against your skin. It was comforting. You liked it, more than you should have.
“Tears can be pretty sometimes sweetheart. Happy tears, for instance.”
“But these aren't happy ones sir.” you smiled weakly, watching as his hand inch up your thigh. “I know sweetheart. We should do somethin about that eh? Get you feeling all better?” he purred.
You nodded, too dumbstruck for words as his hand resumed its hitch hiking, making its way closer to your soaking clothed cunt from under your nightgown.
Oh god.
“W-what are you doing sir?” you asked meekly as his fingers gently traced the cloth, making you shiver, the pulsing of your clit near unbearable as he teased.
“Oh darlin, I’m making it all better, see?” he pouted, slowly adjusting you so you sat straddled across his thigh. “But Mr. Park-”
“Shhh, darlin. Its just me, its your Peter.” he shushed you, hands tracing the curves of your hips, running up and down as he watched your nipples pebble from under the soft nightgown. He could sense the worry on your face as you chewed on your lip, looking up at him softly.
You wanted this. More than anything you wanted this. But deep down, you knew it was a bad idea, getting mixed up with your employer.
But weren't the bad ideas always the best ones?
“I see those thoughts runnin in that pretty head of yours baby. Little girls like you don't need to think, they need to be taken care of. And I’m gonna take care of you okay? I’ll give you everything you need, everything to make you feel better.” he cooed, tugging on a curl that had fallen from behind your ear as you swallowed, nodding.
He was right. Peter was always right, you knew this.
“Yes sir.” you whispered, eager to please the man. “God when you call me that darlin you drive me wild. Make me so god damn hard and you don't even know it, you silly girl.” he mocked, eye brow raised as he squeezed your cheeks together.
“Makes me wanna bend you over and stuff you full of cum, till your drippin. Makes me wanna spank your ass red, till you're a blubbering mess. But I can’t do that, can I sweetheart? That'd be too cruel for my innocent lil girl.” Peters grip made its way down to your neck, closing firmly around your neck, making you gasp.
“Mr. Parker I need-”
“Ah ah ah..” he clucked his tongue, watching your doe eyes widen. “I know what you need darlin. I always know what you need.”
Any thoughts from your brain has left, your body and mind solely given to use for Peter in whichever way he wanted. You wouldn't be surprised if drool dribbled out of your mouth with the way you were under his trance, your gaze fully focused on his full blown pupils.
“Yes sir.” you speculated, smiling as his dimples showed. You were making him happy. “Good girl. Now you're gonna ride my thigh yea? Then I’m gonna fill you with cock until you're fucked stupid.”
You found yourself nodding, his grip on your hips tightening as you began to rut your hips against his thigh, the denim feeling delicious against your clit. “Mghmm.” you moaned, rolling your head back as he guided you slowly against his bouncing knee.
“You’d like that huh? My dumb lil darlin, stuffed full.” he teased, country drawl even heavier as he watched you in delight. The praise and degradation was making your head spin, your bones turned to mush as you rode him.
There was a fire in your veins, a simmering in your core that continued to burn with each rise and fall of his knee, with each gentle kiss and lick he placed on your collarbone.
It ached. It ached more than anything.
“I know it aches honey, but you gotta be a good girl and take what I give you.” he murmured against your skin, moaning as you slid your hands up through his hair, tugging.
The brown, honeyed strands were as silky and smooth as you thought they'd be, perfect reins for you to hold onto. “Been wanting you so badly sir please!” you cried, your slick coating his jeans as you slid your hips.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
It was addicting, the way he was making you feel without truly touching you. “Oh honey I know. I’ll just have to ruin you for all those boys at college won’t I?”
He was toying with you, a cat chasing its dinner. You were the mouse. And you were perfectly fine with that.
“Please!” you gasped, pulling on his scalp as he leaned down to suck on your breasts through the lace of your dress. “Mmm. By the time I’m done with ya darlin, these will be full of milk. Gonna fuck you r-right.” he stuttered as you tugged on his his hair, arching your back to provide better access as he licked and sucked. He bit down on your nipple, tugging at his teeth as you screamed his name.
You were shattering. You were floating, a simple atom floating with the stars as you came, toes curling from the sensations. You never wanted to stop.
You never wanted him to stop.
No one had ever made you feel this way, had made you orgasm so hard your eye rolled back to your brain…
“That’s a good girl. Such a good baby.” he praised, his gentle voice snapping you back to realty as he brushed his lips against your soft, warm skin.
“M’so good. So so good…” you trailed off, sleepy smile on your face as he slid his hand down to the wet patch on his pants, smearing your juices on his fingers.
“Open up darlin.” he hummed, winking as you stuck your tongue out, lapping up your cum from his fingers like a kitten drinking its milk.
“My good girl.” `
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helloheyhihowdyheya · 8 months
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Rose Thorn Blues | p. 3
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Peter Parker x fem!reader
Part One Part Two Masterlist
Summary: At the fundraiser, you and Parker go undercover as husband and wife. Which puts you two in some very interesting positions.
Word count: ~6.5k
Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Fake dating!! Forced proximity!!! (< my excitement for those tags lol). Kissing. Banter. A lil' bit of jealousy. Sneaking around. Mention of throwing up. Swearing. Tension.
A/n: Sorry it's been awhile. You know how it is. Thank you for the love on the past parts :) I like how this one turned out. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading! <3
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As soon as Parker led you through the towering front doors of the mansion, you clung just a little tighter to his arm. Your fingers fidgeted with the simple wedding ring sitting on your ring finger, something he had picked up yesterday — presumably from “the guy he knew.” To save your nerves, you hadn’t asked, instead just accepting the likely fake diamond ring that felt too heavy and gaudy for your tastes. It certainly fit right at home here.
People in gowns and tuxedos you guessed cost more than you could ever afford walked throughout the sprawling main room. The clicking of their shoes against the hardwood floor joined their voices and the small live orchestra sitting near the podium at the other side. The sight of all these people only made your fingers play with the ring faster, your nerves alight.
A soft touch along the back of your hand had you stopping your fidgeting, your muscles stilling as you looked to your right. You slowly blinked your eyes at Parker’s, the chandeliers above bringing out the shades of brown they held.
In the boyish grin he gave you, there was calm reassurance flashing across his face. It sat somewhere between the confidence of his persona for the night, Sam, and the smugness of the Parker you were often met with. In an instant, his expression dropped easily into the facade as he grabbed two flutes of champagne for you both from a passing waiter holding a tray.
“For you, dear,” he said, handing one to you before taking a sip of his own. You watched his gaze flick across the crowd of wealthy guests. Maybe they were in the dark about where their donations went, but you guessed that more than a few knew the truth — and benefited from it. 
“Hello,” a soft voice said from behind you, and your body fought the urge to jump at the sound. A smile that didn’t reach all the way up to your eyes spread across your face as you turned. 
Parker’s arm wrapped around your back while you were met with an older couple focused on the two of you. The women introduced themselves, but you found trying to play your part convincingly while focusing on their names and the conversation proved harder than you’d expected. Especially as the heat of “your husband’s” body settled along yours.
But Parker’s voice pulled you back into the moment as he answered a question they must have asked, the rumble of his voice vibrating against you. “Rose’s grandmother recently passed. She loved this city and Beaumont’s work. The two of them were good friends, so we’re here to support him in her memory.”
The one on the left reached her hands out, clutching onto your free one. “I’m so sorry. What you’re doing here would make her very proud.”
You quietly thanked the woman before her wife asked, “And what do you two do for work?”
A long beat of silence passed over all of you, to the point where you could hear Parker swallow hard beside you. In all the planning you’d done the last few days, neither of you had come up with jobs. 
Shit.
“Teacher.”
“Teacher.”
You both said the word at the same time, a slight panicked look passing between you. 
You turned back to the women, letting out a laugh that felt too tight and forced. “My grandmother left our family money. To donate,” you clarified with a straight smile. You muttered out, “Since there’s not too much money in teaching…”
“Oh, how lovely. Do you work together?”
“Not anymore,” Parker answered. “But we’re happy with our jobs.”
“And what do you teach?”
Internally, you clenched your jaw and cursed these women for being so friendly and asking so many questions you didn’t think about beforehand. But that didn’t seem to stop Parker as he responded with ease.
“Chemistry for high schoolers. And Rose here teaches, um…” His words briefly trailed off, his tongue coming out to wipe over his bottom lip as he hesitated. Okay, maybe not as smooth as you’d hoped.
“English,” you finished for him. Leaning into Parker, you let out a laugh. It almost felt natural to place your hand on his chest as you spoke, lied, to these women. “Sam would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to him.”
That sent them both into loud giggles, a smile spreading across your face as they held onto one another.
“Oh, you two sound like an old couple already,” the left woman said between breaths. 
At least you had the bickering side of things down already. 
But as their laughter died down, the one on the right opened her mouth once more, probably to ask another question you had no answer to. The tightness holding your body hostage sagged as another couple came up, hugging the two women like longtime friends. 
Your rapid heart silently thanked Parker as he took the moment to lead you both to a quiet corner and around the crowd of people waltzing to the soft music, but you still gritted out, “You didn’t think to come up with our careers?”
“Guess my pea-sized brain can’t do all of the work here. What’s your excuse?” he whispered back. His words had you shoving your elbow into your side, but all it did was earn your bare arm a light pinch from him. 
Finding a quiet-enough area, your steps slowed, letting your mind calm down for a moment. Somehow, Parker still wore that casual smile as one hand held the glass and the other sat along your side. But you took a step out of his grasp once you saw no one was looking, letting the space between you two give you extra room to breathe. To think.
You took in the sight of the busy mansion. Mentally, you ignored the now cold spot from Parker’s missing heat, instead marking doors and noting who spoke with who. You were able to recognize some of the attendees — most of which were other local politicians. 
How far did all of this go?
Before you could think further, Parker leaned over to speak close to your ear, a distinct scent of  coffee and something familiar wafting from him. You’d expected him to explain your next steps, so you quickly looked at him in surprise when he asked, “Did you want to be a teacher as a kid?” 
Raising an eyebrow, scanning the expression he wore, you replied, “Yeah… I did. You too?”
“Yeah…” He nodded, staring downward as if in thought.
Your attention went back out to the people, chewing on the inside of your cheek as brief moments passed in silence. All too quick, he followed up with, “Though there’s not much espionage or breaking and entering in teaching these days.”
You gave a quiet laugh, suddenly wishing you’d gone into teaching. The thought made you take another sip of your champagne. A small sip — you needed to stay focused on tonight and learn as much as possible about Beaumont.
But Parker once again came close, the back and forth of him almost making your head spin more than the alcohol could. He whispered, “I spotted a sort of VIP section I could make my way into. It’d be easier to do with just one person, so you can mingle yourself into some important conversations. Beaumont’s not out here. And his little speech and the auction aren’t until later anyway. How does that sound?”
His eyes traced over your face. A slight crease forming between his eyebrows was the only indication that he wasn’t actually the suave Sam Bennet.
You gave a few hesitating nods, your gaze looking at anything but his eyes. You could do this — you’d spoken with people to get information from them before. And even if you couldn’t, maybe Rose could.
Before leaving, Parker shot back the rest of his champagne and set the glass on the nearest flat surface. You fought back a disbelieving scoff when he winked at you and strode toward a closed door on the other side of the room. 
For a few moments, all you could do was watch after him. The party felt much bigger as you stood there alone. A small part of you wondered whether he also felt like that.
You shook your head, clearing your mind with a deep breath in and out. You straightened your back and lifted your chin. Scanning the crowd, you spotted a member of Ellis Beaumont’s team. The middle-aged man stood along the wall near the orchestra, his attention fixed on his phone. You felt as if you’d found your prey as you set down your drink and made your way toward him, one heavy step in front of the other.
You knew he handled marketing for Stronger Together and Beaumont in general, a target full of information ripe for your picking — information you could ask about without drawing suspicion. But all the false confidence you built up deflated as you approached, watching as another member of Beaumont’s team pulled him aside for a hushed conversation. 
Swallowing down a frustrated groan, you instead pivoted to look as if you were enjoying the band. The dancing strings and piano would normally be lovely to listen to, but now it felt like the soundtrack to a headache threatening to form along your temples. 
The two team members walked to the door Parker went through. You didn’t have long to look around for another person to question before you felt a presence to your left. 
“So, do you prefer the upbeat plucking style of Brahms or the legato tone of Debussy?”
The question came from the young man next to you, and within an instant of seeing his styled hair the color of the night and the sharp line of his jaw, you knew who he was.
“I’m just kidding,” he said, flashing a white smile that crinkled the corner of his dark eyes. “Classical music’s never been my strong suit, and I stopped learning their names years ago. Though…” He paused, admiring you, “I wouldn’t mind learning yours.”
Your mouth opened slightly, your mind forcing out a small laugh that you hoped sounded believable enough. Was this actually happening?
Shaking your head, you stuck out your hand. “That might be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard. But the name’s Rose,” you told him. 
He took your hand, wrapping his long fingers along your skin with a smile that could take anyone’s breath away. “You’re not wrong about that, but it got you to talk to me,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m Will.”
You bit back the urge to say I know. You’d done enough research to recognize William Beaumont, the only child of Ellis. In his mid-20s, Will had already quickly risen through the ranks of politics — though not that it seemed to interest him all that much.
But he had to know something and might just share that knowledge with you. Whether he saw the wedding ring around your finger, he didn’t say. 
Flirting for information was not something you had much experience in (or any experience in), but how hard could it really be?
At the expectant look he gave you, one that said he’d rather have his attention on you than anything else in the world, it suddenly felt very hard.
Shoving down your worries and trying to fall into your role like Parker could, you smiled sweetly at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.” You let your hand drop back to your side as you said, “And for the record, I’d have to go with Debussy.”
His hands sat casually in his pockets, his head giving a light nod. “Since I’m not entirely sure who he really is, I’ll have to agree with you.” He let out a soft laugh, his easy tone lightening the tightness in your chest just a fraction. 
A moment passed as you laughed along, the band continuing to play softly. “So, if you were being honest with me, do you ever get tired of these things?”
He sent a sly side eye your way, a smirk crossing his face. “If we’re being honest, then I’d have to say yes. If you’re going to repeat my answer to my father or his associates, then I’d say that I never bore of helping this wonderful city of ours.” The way his voice turned almost mocking at the end made you hide a smile, your face turning slightly away from him.
“What a very professional answer. I can only imagine how many meetings you’ve had to sit in on and say something like that.”
“An excessive amount, yes,” he said, running a hand down his jaw.
“Do these fundraisers all go the same way? Conversing, speech, dinner, auction, then more conversing? I’ve never attended one like this before.”
He gave a short nod. “For the most part. It’s close to the same speech every time, and nearly the same kinds of things auctioned off — most of them coming from donations made primarily by the wealthiest guests here.”
Things you were sure you could only imagine owning. The thought of listening to another speech from Beaumont after all your research only made the small stabbing in your head increase.
Trying to sound casual, unassuming even, you asked, “And what do you exactly do?”
His face shifted toward an unreadable look, making you fight uneasiness rising through your body. You followed up with, “I think it’d be boring if you just sat and listened, so I hope you get to actually play some part in the organization.”
You watched his gaze consider you for a moment, the seconds passing forcing your heart into your throat. Part of you debated faking getting an emergency phone call to get away if this went south.
Tilting his head, a soft smile spread across Will’s face. He held out his hand toward you, palm facing up. “Would you care to dance with me, Rose?”
A twisting feeling reeled through your stomach, your body on edge in an instant. At your hesitation, he said, “Just one dance. And I can answer your question while we’re out on the floor.”
As you raised your hand and laid it in his, you mentally said every expletive you knew at this terrible summer internship, at Parker, and at yourself. But you held an easy smile while the two of you made your way to where others danced along to the orchestra’s playing.
He brought your right hand up in his left, his other hand smoothing across your arm and landing on your back. You tried focusing on your fingers laying atop his shoulder, feeling the soft material of his jacket beneath you. 
“If we’re still being honest with one another, I am not the world’s greatest dancer. I apologize for any toes I step on,” you quietly told him, your words accompanied by a nervous laugh you didn’t have to fake.
His hold on you supported your body as he began to move, your feet trying to follow his. He gave a kind laugh, his hand squeezing yours once. “I won’t hold it against you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, your gaze cast downward to make sure you moved the right way. Slowly, you began to recognize the repeating pattern of steps, your muscles becoming a little less wound tight.
“That’s it,” Will said with an encouraging tone. “Now, can you bear looking up instead of at our feet?”
A laugh slipped from your lips as your eyes trailed higher until they connected with his. You appreciated his kindness, but being here by yourself, there was no way you’d relax enough. Not until–
From the corner of your vision, you spotted Parker walking from that door he’d slipped through. You watched him begin walking this way and scan the crowd, one hand holding another champagne glass and the other running through his hair. It was only once he found you that he stopped, and it brought a relieving sigh from your chest.
As you danced and turned though, you couldn’t see Parker from this angle anymore, but Will said, “There you go. Not so tense anymore.” 
You offered him a grin, one that you fought to maintain as too many thoughts ran through your head. You needed to focus.
“So, I’m dancing,” you began with a laugh. “Your turn to hold up the bargain.”
He returned the laughter, those crinkles around his eyes returning. “Fair enough.”
People passed by in a blur as he continued to lead you across the floor, the orchestra’s music thrumming along with your heart. You’d long lost sight of Parker with all the spinning.
“Sometimes, I do just sit in meetings — whether I’m also listening depends on how boring the topic is. And other times, I pitch ideas for projects or try to lead them.”
You nodded. “Which seem to be doing well, correct? I haven’t followed Stronger Together all that closely lately, so I haven’t seen its impact up close yet.” 
Please, you silently begged him, to give you something.
His eyebrow twitched upward as he hesitated, the muscle of his jaw feathering. “It’s never as easy or quick as we’d wish, but that doesn’t stop us from working toward the organization’s goals. Especially ones I’m passionate about.”
“Like what?” you asked almost a bit too quickly. You tried giving a look that said you were just excited to hear about him.
“Like ensuring everyone has the right to a proper education. We don’t always have jurisdiction for these projects, but what does jurisdiction matter when people’s lives are at stake?”
A smile — a real, genuine smile — overtook your face. “That’s exactly what I say. How can we let red tape get in the way of helping one another?”
He let out a sigh, one that seemed to course from his whole being. “I sure wish my coworkers thought the way you did,” he said, pulling your body just a little closer to his. 
A small feeling, one spreading from your chest, hoped that he was telling the truth. That if you discovered Ellis Beaumont’s crimes and told the world, maybe there’d be a better future in his son.
As that comforting thought passed through you, your eyes caught a moving figure from the corner of your vision. You couldn’t miss the sight of Parker dancing with a woman several yards away. She looked vaguely familiar, perhaps someone involved with the non-profit. 
Your gaze drifted to where Parker’s hand laid on her, the deep plunge of her gown’s back letting his hand rest across her skin. The two of them danced easily, their hold on one another looking so natural. 
You eventually looked up, your steps nearly stuttering when you saw his eyes were already on you. They traced over your form, just the flash of a hard look crossing his face before his mouth began to move. Hopefully, he was asking a question that would lead you both somewhere. But even as he spoke, he stared over her shoulder at you.
That warmth in your chest spread outward. Up your neck, the heat snaked through your skin until your breaths came a little quicker.
Only once you and Will turned again were you able to break from the moment, to focus back on the man you were dancing with. You squeezed your eyes shut for just a second. 
Determined to get something out of this whole thing, you opened your mouth to ask him another question — but he spoke first.
“So, tell me about your husband, Rose.”
Your gaze immediately found his and the expectant darkness waiting in them. “What?”
“Your husband,” he repeated, angling his head toward your wedding ring. “What’s he like?”
A breathy “Oh” passed between your lips…
So this wasn’t flirting? Your mind couldn’t make sense of what William Beaumont wanted, not as you danced in his arms while “married” to another man.
“He’s, um. He’s nice.”
At Will’s laugh, one of your own following, you said, “Most of the time, he’s sarcastic — and I wish there was a way to attach a zipper to his mouth. I think, though, underneath it, there’s kindness that he doesn’t always show. But you know it’s there when you get to know him.”
As you turned again and made eye contact with Parker still far away, you mindlessly muttered, “Sometimes, I wish he wasn’t so smart. It makes me look bad.” A wry smile crossed your face, and you could’ve sworn the ghost of a grin appeared on Parker’s as well. “And while he’s the most chronically late person I know, he’s there when you need him.”
A moment passed before Will pulled back, staring at you as if he could see all the way through you. The orchestra played the final note of the song, your steps slowly coming to a stop. You could only stand there as he leaned closer, his mouth right along your ear. His breaths made goosebumps rise across your shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Heart pounding in your veins, you whispered, “For what?”
“For dancing with me.”
With that, he pulled back, squeezing your hand once more before letting it return to your side. “Enjoy the night, Rose,” he said, nodding his head and turning. You quickly lost him through the sea of people, not that you really tried to search for him long.
Guests around you began to disperse to their tables, a sign to get your feet to move — wherever your own seat was. Lights dimmed above, creating a stir of conversation between people while you looked around, searching for Parker.
You barely finished the thought when he appeared at your side. His arm wrapped around yours as he whispered, “C’mon.”
You followed, the cold shock of Will disappearing under the warmth of Parker against you. But as you both weaved through people still going to their tables, you saw he wasn’t taking you somewhere to sit down and listen to Beaumont’s speech.
Instead, the two of you went through double doors into a hallway leading to the bathrooms. People walked in and out, and if you hadn’t done the research beforehand, you would’ve seriously questioned where he was taking you.
But you’d remembered there was an exit near here, past the bathrooms. There would also be another door — one that took you up and further into the mansion. 
With minimal guests around to witness, he walked right to it.
The staircase behind was thin and illuminated by only a few warm lights. Unable to walk side by side up the steps, Parker let go of your arm and led the way. You only heard the muffled sounds of the hallway behind you, making you a little hopeful that this wasn’t an often-used section of the house. 
“What did you find?” you asked, your hands pulling up your dress while you climbed the stairs.
After two flights, Parker stopped before a door. He turned the knob, letting it swing open silently into a hallway shooting off into many rooms. As he stepped through, he angled his head toward you and said, “Nothing. Which makes me very worried.”
All you could do was begin chewing on your bottom lip and follow him. The plush carpet luckily hid your footsteps, but every nerve in your body stood on edge. You imagined that they’d be fraying and burnt out by the end of this night.
“I know there’s something here though.” Parker motioned toward a door on your left. “You check that one. I’ll look in this one,” he told you, pointing to the room across from it.
Eyeing him, you grumbled under your breath, “A please would be nice.”
And without looking, you knew he was rolling his eyes. Still, you went to the room — even though some instinctual part of you almost insisted that it was safer to go together. You had no idea what was on the other side of this very nice and expensive hardwood door.
The only thing that got you to turn the handle was the sound of Parker going into his room without hesitation. Though you thought calling it the “sound of his audacity” had a better ring to it.
And following in his footsteps brought you to a… bathroom. Sure, it appeared fancy with its probably imported floor tiles and French-inspired sink or something, but the only suspicious thing in this room was why anyone would choose those ugly decorative towels.
Still, you looked through everything — even the medicine cabinet, which made you feel like some sort of rude house guest. You took a photo or two of the bottles inside, most of which turned out to be painkillers. Strong ones.
Before moving to the next, you listened for any footsteps or voices. With silent steps and slowed breathing, you crept from the bathroom — only to be met with Parker walking freely from his room without any caution. At the incredulous look you gave him, he just gestured for you to hurry up.
You made a point to glare at him as you approached the next door. As it creaked open, your body wincing at the noise, you stepped inside. At first glance, it seemed to be a bedroom, which wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. It had no computer to search through or a convenient map laying out their entire plans.
It appeared to be largely unused, a faint layer of dust coating most of the furniture. But as you walked toward a small desk in the corner, you saw some papers scattered atop it. Some appeared to be emails that held no significance without any context. Others seemed to be invitations to a few of Beaumont’s fundraisers.
The walls or shelves in the room gave no indication as to who these papers belonged to, but you took pictures of them regardless. As you set them back, you looked further down. The desk also had drawers.
One pull on it told you they were locked though, and surprisingly, lock picking wasn’t a skill you listed at the top of your resume. Maybe you could try and get through the back…
The door squeaking open made you jump, your body straightening up and hitting the desk. You stifled a groan as your eyes found Parker at the entrance of the room. Silently, he held up his hands — not in apology but in a way that was supposed to somehow absolve him of any guilt. 
You could already feel a bruise forming along your hip, your hand rubbing the bone. Parker approached you, whispering, “Settle down, Nancy Drew. Have you found anything useful?”
“Unless you can open these locked drawers, how about you keep your mouth shut, Parker,” you quietly gritted out.
His grin grew into something taunting. “Guess I’ll keep this mouth wide open then, sunshine.”
You watched with furrowed eyebrows as he knelt down and took two bobby pins from his inside pocket. Before you could even ask, he interrupted. “I come prepared, so keep your smart comments to yourself.”
Widening your eyes with a huff, you stood there, leaning against the wall. Your arms crossed in front of your chest as you observed him. 
“So… when did you learn to pick locks?”
Under his breath, you barely heard him mutter, “When’d you learn to flirt for information?”
As you were still processing his words, your mouth opening slightly in shock, Parker popped open the drawer. Any retort died in your throat — but stayed very clearly in your mind — as you looked past him at the papers he pulled out.
They seemed to detail some sort of… super suit? Scribbled notes sat on the margins of blueprints for a suit with metal arms, protective armor, even grenades. Almost like they were a mismatch of parts from Spider-Man’s villains. Doc Ock, The Rhino, The Green Goblin.
A shaky breath punched from your lungs, your stomach sinking so low you had to set a hand on the desk to steady yourself. Was Ellis making himself into a supervillain?
The thought barely seeped into your mind when you both heard a floorboard groan from out in the hallway. Your head whipped to the door, neither of you moving an inch. At another creaking sound, Parker silently made his way to peek out from the room.
He must have heard something you didn’t because his entire body tensed, but your hands were already moving. By the time he turned back to you with wide eyes, you stood next to him, your heart beating rapidly in your ears.
“We’ve gotta go,” he whispered, the words barely audible. You fought back the urge to say no shit. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to utter the words with how your body now shook.
Parker crept out into the hallway, looking both ways. He nodded for you to follow with a quick jerk of his head. But as you closed the bedroom door behind you, the squeaky hinges echoed into the air. Your eyes met Parker’s, his jaw tight as alarm flashed across his face.
In an instant, his fingers grabbed onto your wrist. He pulled you across the hall to the nearest room and clicked the door shut behind you. 
Through the whiplash from sudden movement to stillness in complete darkness, you felt a hand cover your mouth. The back of your body leaned against what felt like wooden shelves while your front pressed into Parker. 
You felt the beating of his heart against your own.
Despite him covering your mouth making you want to do the opposite, you willed your breaths to slow down until they were nearly silent. Though you couldn’t see, you guessed the two of you were sandwiched inside a closet of some kind.
You brought your hand up to remove Parker’s from your face. You might’ve pinched him if you weren’t hiding from whoever was also here, though that didn’t stop you from flipping him off in the shadowy closet. You felt him push your hand away with a quiet huff.
Only a moment later, through straining ears and clenched muscles, you heard a door open. Then footsteps.
Your eyes squeezed shut, the heat in the tight space beginning to grow unbearable. That, on top of your mind and body turning into a live wire from your nerves, made it feel harder to breathe.
And you knew you had to be quiet, but your back screamed at you to move from the hard shelves digging into your spine. As you tried to silently shift forward to find any kind of relief, you were stopped by palms quickly landing on your hips. 
You heard a strangled sigh come from Parker as he held you firm, your body unable to move any further under his grip. Your top half leaned into him more in this position, your hands instinctually holding onto him and finding hard muscles beneath. 
In the dark and under the threat of making any noise, you were unable to ask him what he was doing. All you could do was feel him.
But his head came nearer. You swore he whispered, “I…” before trailing off. He was close enough that you could feel the word caress your cheek. Then, as if time froze for a few seconds, neither of you even breathed while the footsteps grew louder and louder until they came so close to the door.
And then they kept going, the footfalls becoming just a bit quieter with each one.
You would’ve sighed had the hands on your hips not still held on so tight. His breathing sounded labored, his body rigid. With worry starting to take over your senses, you barely let his name pass your lips. So quietly, you whispered, “Peter?”
You knew he heard you because every muscle of his tensed. The movement had his arm hitting the shelves, and all of the blood rushed from your head as something fell and hit the floor with a dull thud. 
The footsteps stopped.
Parker grabbed your shoulders, his grip twisting the material of your dress wherever he touched. Maybe he knew that your mind was spinning, that your stomach threatened to empty itself, or that most of your extremities had gone numb despite the heat. He held you there, keeping you grounded as the steps became louder once more.
“Do you trust me?” Parker said, the words wrapping around your body with a gentleness you hadn’t expected.
Your mind’s first instinct was to tell him no, you absolutely did not trust him. You wanted to ask him whether he even trusted you. But your throat allowed no response to pass, your tongue unable to shape any of the sounds. 
And… if you were to once again follow your heart, follow the pull in your gut, you’d nod. 
So you did. 
With that, he leaned forward to press his lips to yours. A quiet noise of surprise came from you as his fingers now danced up to hold your jaw. Only once you responded, your fuzzy mind catching up enough to kiss him back, did he lunge further forward. 
Quick breaths came from his nose as his mouth overtook yours. His body pressed roughly against you, the feeling doing nothing to slow your dizzying senses. Your fingers gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. And by the time you’d finally responded with the same intensity as him, nearly fell face first into the feeling, light flooded in from behind your eyelids.
Breaking apart from Parker with a start, you blinked until your vision made out the security guard in front of you. Your chest still heaved and your heart still pounded. Even your fingers still itched for him to ground you again — so much so that you grabbed his hand as the worker let out a scoff.
“Christ… Don’t you have anything better to do? Or any place better than this?” he asked, his flashlight flicking between the two of you.
“Sorry, sorry. We’ll go,” Parker muttered, his voice tighter than you remembered. He used one hand to shield his eyes from the light and put the other on your back to guide you from the closet. 
He made a good show of not knowing which way to go, making the guard point toward the door you came from with a tired look on his face. It took everything in you to not hide behind your fingers, embarrassment crawling up your neck and heating your cheeks.
Neither of you said a word while walking back to the main room, just pointedly not catching each other’s eyes. It felt harder to swallow, to think even.
Finally, outside the bathrooms, Parker broke the silence. He turned to you, saying, “Your, uh, dress.”
He approached, trying to fix the rumples he created in your gown. But you batted his hand away, unable to deal with his touch on you again right now. Your fingers smoothed it out yourself while you told him, “Flatten your hair back down.”
And before he even finished, you’d begun walking down the hallway to the doors. Anything to create room between you two — because you could still feel the weight of him clutching your jaw and the burn still present on your lips. 
And you didn’t want to think about what you just did for this story, or about kissing Peter fucking Parker.
His shoes clicked against the tile as he caught up. Your eyes saw a glimpse of him reaching out, your body bracing itself for his grip around your arm. But he stopped short, instead pleading, “Wait.”
“What?” you asked, a soft bite to the word. Your head sat on a swivel for anyone who could be watching or listening.
He gritted his teeth for a moment, thinking. “Should we go back? To take pictures of the diagram?”
With a tight smile, you told him, “No need.” 
Your fingers pulled the papers from where you’d tucked them into the front of your dress. You only paused long enough to feel smug at the surprised look on his face before hiding them once again. 
Without seeing whether he’d follow, you strode through the double doors — just always walking barely ahead of him. Luckily, your seats were near the back and away from the spotlights trained on the stage. 
Once settled into the chair, your hands firmly in your own lap, you let out a long breath. From beside you, Parker leaned in close, whispering, “Sunshine… Can I ask you something?”
Your eyes darted in his direction, nausea suddenly flooding your system all over again. You only looked at his shoulder as you slowly nodded, wondering if it was a mistake to do so. 
“Am I…”
He paused, and you could’ve bolted right then and there. Letting out a sigh, he asked, “Am I like the best kiss you’ve ever had?” 
He barely made it to the end of the sentence before his usual shit-eating grin returned to his face.
You relished in the way it twisted in pain when you kicked him under the table, hoping it’d leave a bruise. Partly, you were grateful he broke the tension, but that didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of breaking his foot too.
Turning back to the stage, you finally focused on the man standing atop it. That salt and pepper hair, dark eyes, and “winning smile” looked back in return.
It was hard to pay attention to his speech still going on when all you could think of was Beaumont’s diagram of the super suit. In your head, those eyes turned hateful, that smile cunning. You still felt them even as the speech ended, all of it just propaganda as you expected. 
What information you took from the auction was just how much money was going toward Stronger Together — which was a hefty amount. And all you got from the dinner was that they needed to learn how to better season their food.
After it all, Beaumont was immediately surrounded after the auction. People you assumed were shareholders or investors (i.e., rich people) took the conversation back into the VIP area before you could even think of approaching him. Honestly, you weren’t sure you could handle any more sneaking or lying for the rest of the night anyway.
But you had what you needed, for now.
And while making your way toward the mansion’s towering front doors alongside other couples, you could’ve sworn there were two sets of eyes burning a trail past your every move. One of them you refused to meet.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Suit Up
Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.
* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)
Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.
Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.
He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.
Especially you.
His sweet, sweet girl.
So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.
Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.
Or so he hoped.
He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.
“Good morning.”
As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.
A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.
You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.
“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”
His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.
You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.
Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.
He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.
You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.
His cock gave him a warning twitch.
He was all too familiar with those by now.
Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?
He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.
“Miguel?”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.
There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.
Apologising for making a mess…
“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”
You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”
Right.
He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”
“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.
His cock twitched again.
“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”
A blatant lie.
He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.
How else would he mark you without you even realising?
You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.
“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”
His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”
Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.
“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”
He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.
You deserved more than a nod.
And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.
It was quite addicting.
He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.
Fuck.
He would teach you all he knew.
You’d have all of him.
But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.
“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”
You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.
“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.
You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.
“Wait, do I have be naked?”
The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”
Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.
You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”
He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.
The reaction was immediate.
Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.
For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.
You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.
He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.
“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.
You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.
“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.
The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.
He needed more.
He needed to touch you.
“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”
He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.
You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.
He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.
“Do you trust me?”
You shouldn’t…
You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”
… because he wouldn’t.
He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.
You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.
“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.
You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”
His sweet girl…
How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?
Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.
This was driving him mad.
Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.
You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.
“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” you immediately replied.
Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…
He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.
You’d struggle at first.
But he’d be patient.
He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.
You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.
His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.
Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.
Was this too much?
In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.
He needed you closer.
He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.
He needed you to need him.
You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.
“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.
You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.
Oh, fuck.
He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.
You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.
He wish he could set his cock free.
No.
He wish you would offer to set his cock free.
He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.
“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”
Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?
Against his will, he nodded.
He needed you gone right away.
He had to get off urgently.
“You’re overworking yourself again…”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.
Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”
Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”
Your hand dropped.
Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.
He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.
“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.
Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.
In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.
He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.
“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.
His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.
From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.
That would do.
For now.
Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.
Dangerously close.
It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.
Faint anger took over him.
You should be the one to bring him relief.
This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.
The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.
You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.
You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.
Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.
So eager to please.
He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.
Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.
But he had to get rid of this now.
He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.
Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.
They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.
The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.
Just you.
His sweet girl.
Just his.
He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.
The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.
He would break himself for you.
And you would, too.
You just didn’t know it yet.
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Part 3
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Masterlist
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months
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thinking of miguel kneeling on the floor as he eats you out:
(18+ mdni, fem!reader)
☆ had this idea last night and just HAD to write about it
- filthy drabble below cut -
miguel would kneel on the ground between your thighs with his face buried in your cunt, his tongue laid flat over your pretty pussy, lapping your folds as he gazes up into your lust-filled eyes. there's no other person he'd kneel for than you, no one else he'd worship or cherish. 
his large hands would be firm as they rested upon your hips, keeping you sturdy as he worked over you with the point of his tongue, caressing your sweet cunt in the way he knew you needed. you’d look down at him with puffy swollen lips, an eager glimmer in your eye as you watched him eat you out, studying the way his mouth moved so effortlessly over you. his gluttonous groans would hum against your folds as his hands graze down to your ass. his fingers would squeeze and knead into the soft doughy flesh of your cheeks as he pushed your cunt further into his face. 
he’d hike your leg over his shoulder, holding your thighs and waist to balance you- keeping you stable as he laps over you, muffling into your pussy about how good you taste.
your pretty desperate little cries into the air would only egg him on more, and your grip on his roots would tighten. your breathing would grow strained and strangled, and it would all feed into his ego. he loved to make you feel good, but he loved it even more when he could see just how good he made you feel.
he'd nuzzle his face further into you, gripping your hips and thighs tighter when he felt your leg shake, holding you balanced to stop your body giving up from under you. 
he’d barely part from you, whispering softly against your clit with a devilish look in his eye. "cum on my tongue, cariño. I want to taste you on my lips."
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
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☆ 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ☆
TW: Pure smut, NSFW, unprotected sex, rough sex, Daddykink, AFAB anatomy, vaginal sex, creampie, overstimulation, established relationship, a little fluff, Husband! Miguel O'Hara, description of Miguel's dick.
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This man as a husband is a complete package, he loves you, is extremely faithful and does everything to see you happy. Miguel is the kind of husband who shows you for the whole world to see, how beautiful you are, how perfect your body is in the clothes he buys you (and there are many, believe me).
Miguel is the type of husband that if someone flirts with him, he will smile and try to be polite, he only has eyes for you and will never exchange a lifetime of pleasure, happiness and love for a passing adventure in bed, he is yes a sex-crazed animal but that only applies with you his libido is all for you, you turn him on but if it's someone else he'll refuse and come back into your arms.
"-Sorry Honey, I have a husband/wife, I'm a married man" -Miguel would say proudly while showing the thin wedding ring made of expensive material to the woman who flirted with him in the market line, while he did some shopping for you two .
Will wake you up with coffee in bed whenever he can, prepare to wake up to the sound of "Romeo Santos - Eres Mía" is Miguel's favorite song, as he sang happily and brought you your favorite food on a tray with a flower red on the side, then popping it into his mouth like a cheap heartthrob, making you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves to hear you laugh, he loves you.
♡ Miguel O'Hara is a Horny Husband!!! ♡
He will fuck you in every room in the house possible, over the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the living room floor, in the backyard, even on the ceiling if he can...and he can! after all this mf has super strength, prepare to get dizzy as he fucks you in angles and positions you didn't even know existed.
Miguel O'Hara is big... I mean Miguel's cock is 22 centimeters and very thick, with swollen side veins that pulsate and pump, you can see the glow coming off the darker tanned sensitive skin of his cock, with the tip of the member being a darker red matching the rest, as O'Hara's dick is darker than the rest of his body, and extremely beautiful a little crooked to the left, but little else, he uses this to give you more pleasure exploring with the hips.
He loves to see you submissive, he is the type who likes to dominate you with all the anger, passion, love and horny, every drop of his being loves to see you vulnerable and totally naked under his muscular body, he will feel a predator and you are the prey.
"-Look at you, mi amor, crying and trembling... So beautiful mi carinõ... And all mine, this pussy belongs to me..." -Miguel growled, his voice dripping desire and hunger, while looking at you from above below, with you totally sweaty and whimpering from the third denied orgasm that night, every time you came close to coming, O'Hara simply took his fingers out of your pussy and sneered, flashing your beautiful and dangerous fangs at you.
"-Do you really want to come? Beg me, beg me to fuck you, beg me to have your husband's dick inside that nice tight pussy of yours, come on (Y/N) beg, beg me like the good slut you are."
After you whimper and beg, he will finally give in, thrusting his thick, pulsing shaft into you, moving with difficulty because your cock is too thick and you are too tight.
"-Mm, that's it, baby..."- Miguel spoke hoarsely and moaning softly, biting his lip, finally inside you while waiting for your pussy to adjust and take all of his cock.
"-Take daddy's cock deeply, feel every inch of me, you're doing so well (Y/N), such a good little whore for your Husband."
"-Say my name (Y/N)" -Miguel demanded, his voice authoritative and rough, as he slammed into you hard, his hips moving back and forth into your sensitive pussy as he used two fingers to massage your clit hard, making you cry out and squirm with the pleasurable and painful union of Miguel's fingers and cock.
"-Let everyone, the whole neighborhood know who's fucking you mercilessly, Shout out to me, who do you belong to? Shout out (Y/N), shout out to me...Fuck (Y/N)..." -Miguel groaned loud and serious, while he accelerated his hips again on you, leaving a trail of fluids from both of you, in his abdomen, member and groin.
"-You're driving Papi crazy... Hearing you talk like that, feeling your tight pussy squeezing me... it's too much, I'm not going to take much mi amor, you're going to make me come inside you and I'm going to fill your uterus all... until you're totally done with me."
"-Get ready (Y/N), I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to breathe, let alone scream."
"-You're my fucking toy, mi muñeco/muñeca, I own every inch of your pussy, and I'll use it as I please."
"-You love it when I fuck you, don't you? You're a dirty slut (Y/N), Begging for more, craving my cock, You're insatiable, you like to satisfy your Husband? Hm? Tell me mi amor, me tell me you love having my thick cock jammed in your tight, needy pussy."
"-Fuck Mami/Papi... I'm close" -Miguel grumbled as he lifted one of your thighs, looking at your pussy glistening with juices, wet because of him as he thrust with all the strength he could at that moment, the rhythm increasingly erratic for the pleasure he was feeling with your vigorous grip.
"-Are you ready to take my cum (Y/N) Show me how much of a filthy little slut you really are." -Miguel speaks practically shouting, while he gives a last strong thrust, echoing the sound of his skins through the room and coming inside you with a wild and pleasurable growl.
He would fall on his side tired, but still erect and horny, Miguel's tanned body glistened with sweat while the brown hair fell on the spider man's forehead, glued to the skin by fatigue. If you ask him to ride him, he'll freak out and immediately agree, whether he's tired or not, ride this man soon, he needs another round.
"-Of course, baby... You can ride Papi's cock all you want. I want to feel your tight pussy slide down me, taking me deep inside." "-Stay on top of the thick cock daddy, let me see you get down on my cock, let me feel every inch of you."
"-Ride me, baby, yes fuck, that feels so good..." -Miguel spoke between moans, feeling your pussy on top of him, riding hard as you looked him deep in the eyes, watching your husband's face contort with pleasure As O'Hara threw your head back, squeezing your hips tightly as you moaned needfully, you could feel his cock pulsing with every squeeze of your pussy.
"-Take everything I have to give you. You feel so good on my cock, little one."
"-Fuck (Y/N), You're taking my cock so well, my obedient little slut. You're mine to use, to fuck, to pleasure, feel me dominating your tight little pussy, claiming it as mine."
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hrhmimieucliffe · 7 months
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reverieblondie · 11 days
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Remember Me?
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Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X AFAB!civillainreader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...
Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.
A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!
Word Count: 6,823
“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 
“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   
“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 
“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 
At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 
Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.
Is….that…his….yearbook…
It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…
“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 
“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 
Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  
Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 
“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 
Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 
Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”
Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 
“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 
Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 
Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”
The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 
A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…
Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 
“Miggy~”     
The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 
The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 
“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 
Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 
Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 
“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 
The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 
“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 
“Well…technically…I didn’t” 
“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys
Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”
A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 
Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 
“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 
Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 
There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 
“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”
“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 
“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.
“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 
“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 
Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 
“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 
“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 
“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.
Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…
“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.
Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…
Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 
“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 
Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.
“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 
Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 
Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 
“It’s like density!” 
Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…
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They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…
Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  
Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…
High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 
Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 
“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 
A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 
“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 
“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 
God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…
Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…
The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…
Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 
The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…
As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  
“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 
“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”
The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  
“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 
“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 
The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…
“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.
Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 
Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 
He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 
The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.
Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 
“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”
Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…
“Miggy!” 
“Miggy!”
“Miguel?” 
Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 
Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.
“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?
Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 
“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 
“I can not believe how different you look!”
“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?
Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 
“You think I look good?” you ask, playful, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 
You could eat him alive…and he would let you…
“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 
“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…
“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 
“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 
Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 
“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 
The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 
Miguel feels a wave of electricity shakes through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 
“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 
“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 
“Miguel, I like the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t have run away…” 
Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, like when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 
“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  
Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 
“I thought you were sweet…” 
Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 
“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 
“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”
Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 
Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 
“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”
Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 
Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 
The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 
“Miggy, I always like you…just-”
Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 
“Fuck, miggy~”
Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 
His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 
“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 
A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 
“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 
Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…
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It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…
Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your licks isn’t lost on him. 
“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…
Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 
“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 
Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 
As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly creases up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  
Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 
Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and crease his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 
Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 
“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 
Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 
Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 
His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 
Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 
You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 
Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 
With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 
Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 
Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 
Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.
“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 
Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 
“So eager, Miggy~” 
All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 
Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.
“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 
The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…
“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 
“Good…” 
You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 
The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…
With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 
With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 
Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…
With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 
“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…
Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 
He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 
Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 
As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 
Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 
After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 
Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 
“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 
His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 
“Miggy, about time you asked…” 
You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…
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madschiavelique · 8 months
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Hi Ily
Miguel who says he doesn’t want kids after gabriella but secretly tries to breed reader 🤭 breeding press, ass up head down, missionary but he holds knees up to readers chest afterwards for a minute? Anytime reader confronts this he denies it LOL lowkey gaslighting them
GN reader tyyy
aww ily too nony !! hope u like it hehehe
summary : miguel said he didn't want kids after gabriella... but sectrely tries to breed you content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, breeding kink, scent kink (miguel can smell reader's ovulating), gn!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 627 tag list : @fandom-ash
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A moan washed through your hot breath against Miguel's cheek as he thrust into you once more, making you feel as if he were buried even deeper within you.
Your calves rested on his shoulders while your knees were on either side of your head, grazing your ears.
"Miguel-" you swallowed as your voice caught in your throat, "I'm too full."
But that was all he was looking for.
Miguel had raised your hips, pressed your legs against you to drive his cock even deeper into you. He had to touch you to the core, make sure his cum would fill you completely and guarantee that you would bear his children.
You were already full, but he had to go on and finish one more time, as much for his own pleasure as to make sure you'd end up pregnant.
He could already picture you, your rounded belly that he caressed and kissed as you carried the fruit of his success inside you.
His chest was pressed against the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers gripping one of them firmly as he moved down to kiss your neck before only pulling his head back to admire the view.
He had before him the most sublime vision of all, your gaze all hazy and dumb fucked, breasts pressed and cunt just taking him perfectly.
His pupils turned red, his rhythm quickening while he let out low grunts as he came to kiss you.
He couldn't think of anything else, his only thoughts all focused on breeding you. He had to make sure you were full enough so that, if he pressed down on your belly, hi cum would drip out of you excessively.
Your mouth whimpering his name, your nails tracing long lines down his back and leaving crescent moon marks in his arm, your smell...
You were ovulating, and that's what made it so uncontrollable. That plump, warm, irresistible smell - how could he control himself when you smelled like that? You were ready for him, your body itself caressing his deepest instincts.
Your walls were so warm, enveloping him to perfection.
"Take it all in," he growled as he felt himself coming, accelerating harder inside you.
He bit into your neck, licking the trail he'd left. His scent mingling with yours was just so exceptional, he couldn't get rid of it, and didn't want to : it felt like pure heaven.
He grunted with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, feeling his cum filling you all warm once more as you moaned at the sensation.
He came to press his forehead to yours, breathing open-mouthed before coming to kiss you, not moving from the position. He was still buried deep in you, making sure you stayed full and nothing came out.
"Are you... trying to get me pregnant?" you murmured against him, still breathless as Miguel nuzzled his head into your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
He bit his lip and wrinkled his nose. He knew well that you suspected his convictions about not wanting any more children were dubious.
"Don't you like being so full of me, mami?" he'd asked, hoping to deflect the conversation.
"I do, but-" he came to kiss you, cutting you off.
"But what?" his voice was calm, honeyed.
"You said-" but he interrupted you again.
"What I said didn't matter." he sighed as he kissed your cheek, grinning against it as he came back to face you. "But what matters more to me now is that you admitted to liking it."
He raised your hips a little higher even than before, bringing his fingers against your clit which drew a moan from you.
"Then you won't mind if I continue."
Good things can always be overindulged.
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miguelsslvt · 8 months
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ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader
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part two here!
word count: 745
TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.
A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!
back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.
you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.
miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.
you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.
miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.
it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?
that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!
you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.
'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.
'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.
the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'
your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.
'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎
that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.
3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.
'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.
'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.
god, is this heaven?
♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
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kentosblkgf · 8 months
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Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf
Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.
Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.
Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.
His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.
He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”
Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.
“Hush baby, be patient.”
“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.
You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.
“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”
You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.
Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.
“Miguel please, more.”
You whined.
“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)
Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.
“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)
Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.
“Look at yourself.”
Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.
Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.
But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.
It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.
He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.
"You gonna take it?"
It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.
"Promise."
That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.
You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.
"Deeper."
Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.
"Mig- oh fuck wait."
"Don't be a liar baby."
letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.
Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.
Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.
He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.
He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.
Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.
"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.
He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.
"Hold your legs." Fuck.
He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.
"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.
"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.
"Better keep that promise."
Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.
You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.
"C'mon, baby."
he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.
Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.
He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
"So good.."
It sounds like you are whining.
"You're fucking me so good."
Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.
He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.
"Open your eyes."
You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.
You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.
"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?
"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.
His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.
You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.
His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.
The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.
"Cum baby."
He's pleading for you to cum.
So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.
Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.
"Come back to me, c'mon."
He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.
"M'gonna move okay?"
You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.
He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.
"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.
You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.
This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.
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nova-amor · 5 months
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miguel o’hara’s nails scratched at your scalp, his fingers laced into your hair and grasping for dear life at the back of your head. his head was tilted back, his eyes barely fluttered shut and throat straining to conceal the deep groans emerging from his chest.
“just like that, nena— you like sucking cock, huh? that’s how you’re so good at this? like being a little cockslut?” miguel rambled, his crimson eyes flickering down to look at you. his cock was buried to the hilt down your throat, your watery eyes peering up at him from your kneeling position. he had to look away; if he didn’t he was surely going to burst at the seams. “gag on it, nena. get it messy. coat every inch of my cock with your spit.”
your head bobbed along his length at an incredible pace, throat spasming hard around his girth with each brush against your sensitive uvula. the filthy sounds of your mouth being fucked filled the room, the wet noise of skin hitting against skin echoing off the walls. your gags and whimpers were muffled by miguel’s cock jackhammering the aching cavern of your throat, your jaw growing more sore with each rough thrust.
thick globs of spit were smeared against miguel’s pelvis and your chin, his rich pre-cum coating every inch of space in your mouth. “oh fuck— gettin’ me so close, nena— fuck, i’mma cum— g’na cum all down your throat— you’d like that, wouldn’t you? my good little cockslut; want me breed this little throat, huh?” miguel’s sinful words were met by your hums in agreement, the vibrations around his cock making his eyes roll back and jaw clench. his body tingled and his balls tightened, “fuck— oh my fuckin’— sé mi buena chica y bebe cada gota que te doy— no seas despilfarrador.”
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all444miles · 9 months
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— JERSEY LUV PT.2
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— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: suggestive but fluff — summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!
part 1 part 3 !
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MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.
MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.
"Nah amor, you gon stay right here." "Miles, I-" Nuh uh."
MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.
speaking of making out..
MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.
MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.
MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.
"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me." "baby, you know ion work out." "ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn." "you just want me to watch you, huh?" "..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."
MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.
MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.
MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.
"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."
MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.
MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.
"awwee, my man breaking the law for me." "you like it?" "love it."
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tags: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayeluvsu @iwannagohomesaystamaki @onginlove @sheluvv-jen @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @m4rihrts @whitejxsmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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moon-rivr · 2 months
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hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.
One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment
this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life
sweetest bite
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pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader
contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)
author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸
word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)
You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.
"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.
The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.
No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.
The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.
He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.
What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.
"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.
He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.
He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.
"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.
"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.
You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.
"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.
The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.
But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.
"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.
"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.
Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.
"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.
Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.
Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.
The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.
He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.
"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.
"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.
All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.
You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.
"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.
You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.
"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.
Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.
You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.
You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.
"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.
As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.
You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.
"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.
"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.
"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.
"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."
You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.
His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.
"Close your legs a little more for me mami."
"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.
You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.
He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal.  "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"
He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.
"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.
You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.
Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.
You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.
You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.
Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.
“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."
Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.
Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.
As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.
"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.
Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.
Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.
He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.
Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.
His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.
The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.
One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.
Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."
His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.
Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.
Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."
You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.
The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.
taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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Frustration
Summary: Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Miguel POV. Masturbation. Sexual frustration. Obsessed Miguel. Inspired by this ask + gif.
* ˚ ✦ Part 2
There you were.
His walking and breathing torment.
You had been plaguing his every thought, and you didn’t even know.
He had lost count to the amount of times he had drained himself thinking of you. Oftentimes, more than once a day.
But his frustration was reaching new heights.
His eyes followed your every move through the orange floating screens in his living room.
You were pacing across sector 13’s warehouse in the middle of the night, working on some new tech. Of course you were. You were just so sweet and generous, and had offered him a helping hand.
How he craved that helping hand to relieve him of his sexual tension.
But for now, he got to watch you from a distance, as he lay sprawled on his couch, a heavy frown setting on his face.
Your fingers moved gracefully from one piece of metal to another, inspecting them carefully, and Miguel vaguely wondered if they would be this attentive while touching his cock.
One hand came to tap the screens so he could zoom in on you.
He had discared his suit for casuals before getting some rest, but he couldn’t help himself.
He had to watch you.
Leaning back with a groan, his cock strained almost painfully against his pants, but Miguel wouldn’t dare touch himself just yet. He needed to train himself to last longer without caving in.
You were absolutely on the task at hand, teeth digging lightly into your bottom lip.
He almost gave up right there and then, but balled his fists instead at his side.
If only you knew how hard he was for you. How much he craved your touch and attention.
A grunt escaped his parted lips as his cock hardened fully, the first beads of precum wetting his skin.
He was so ready for you…
His eyes were glued to the screen, roaming along your body. Your shirt was covered in grime and oil and the neckline was so low that if you were to bend over, he’d be able to take a glimpse.
“Come on…” he muttered under his breath, yearning for that reveal of skin that would tip him over.
You dragged a piece of cloth across your neck to wipe off the sweat, and he scowled deeply.
With him, you wouldn’t need to bother with that. He’d take care of you… he’d wash you clean right after devouring you whole.
His hands itched to set his cock free, but he needed more from you.
You were such a sweet and helpful girl.
Surely you could give him more, right?
He waited… and waited… patience slowly draining.
“Por favor…” he growled almost desperately.
The moment presented itself with you bringing a bottle of water to your lips, eagerly quenching your thirst.
A few droplets dripped down your chin, neck and finally soaking through your shirt.
He had waited for too long and had reached his breaking point.
Even though a part of him felt ashamed to resort to this, he just couldn’t find another way to deal with his frustration.
He brought one hand to rest on his crotch and ran his thumb along the underside of his strained cock, immediately hissing.
Resting his head on the back of his other hand, he felt the frustration taking over him as he knew there was no other way now.
Your bra was visible enough through the shirt for him to picture having his cock placed right in between your breasts that he would squeeze to add more friction.
Lazily dragging the zipper down, Miguel slipped his hand in to finally easy the tension.
His cock curved slightly, strings of precum dripping from the tip and he let lout a shaky sigh of relief.
You were suddenly smiling at something.
Or someone.
Who wasn’t him.
He narrowed his eyes in search of the source, but couldn’t find it.
Jealousy flared inside him like wildfire, coursing through his veins, as his fingers wrapped around his cock.
Why were you, his sweet girl, smiling? You should be right there with him, and he knew you’d gasp at his impressive size and at the realisation of how you made him feel. He’d take his time to make sure you felt comfortable enough to eventually touch him and let him touch you.
His fangs were now protruding in anticipation.
Would you let him graze them across your heated skin? Would you let him lick your neck? Would you let him make you his?
He’d be so good for you…
Miguel started gliding his hand up and down painfully slowly, precum rolling down his knuckles.
You were now fanning yourself with your hand and his hips bucked instinctively.
“Sí, cariño… so hot…” he said in between moans, fucking himself relentlessly.
He increased the grip around his cock, knowing fully well your pussy would squeeze him tighter than this.
It would be a miracle if he managed to last long inside you. He’d want your first time together to be with you on your back, so he could watch your face twist as you struggled to take all of him. He could picture perfectly in his mind how your lips would quiver and how he’d promptly comfort you, reassuring you that he would take it slowly.
His eyes fluttered shut, as he kept fucking his hand, wet sounds adding to the pleasure.
He pictured you riding him, soft moans escaping your lips as he guided you up and down.
Another broken thrust.
Deciding that he needed more visual guidance, his eyes snapped open as he watched as you tapped on your watch.
The one on his wrist beeped and Miguel groaned in pure frustration.
He considered not answering you, but…
“Hey, Miguel,” your sweet voice came through and it took all of him not to burst.
“Hey.”
You were pacing nervously. “I… think I fried the chip. I’m sorry… I thought it’d handle the added voltage.”
So fucking sweet…
He halted his strokes momentarily, inhaling and trying to steady his breathing.
“Say something…” your voice was low. “Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not,” he managed to say, cock twitching at the innocence in your voice.
How could he ever be mad at you?
“Huh… well, I know it’s late… but if you want to come…”
Bad choice of words…
Because he did want to come… deep inside you.
“… or not! You can take a look tomorrow,” you added rapidly with a nervous laugh, and Miguel had to bite the back of his hand to muffle a moan.
“You okay? You sound… breathless…”
Look at you… so concerned with his well-being… he’d love to leave you breathless.
He exhaled slowly. “Yes. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great,” he said, slipping into his tendency to praise you. “You’re really good.”
“You think so? I mean, you’re the expert here… I’m still learning.”
He dragged the pad of his thumb across the tip, feeling the
“You’re so good,” he nearly moaned out.
“It means a lot coming from you,” she chirped happily, unaware of how close he was. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Bye~”
You were visibly excited on the screen in front of him, and it was evident you had enjoyed his praise and approval.
His sweet girl always so eager to please.
That was enough to bring him over the edge.
He tapped his watch right away, feeling the unstoppable wave of an orgasm flush through his entire body at once as the first streaks of cum shot out, landing on his pants and lower abdomen. He rode out his pleasure with messy rolls of his hips, fingers squeezing out as much cum as possible.
A loud growl erupted from his throat and he did allowed the overwhelming sensation to completely take over.
By the time he came down from his high, breathless and swear rolling down his face, Miguel realised he would have to eventually do something about this. The amount of cum pooling at his lower abdomen was impressive and he knew it was all going to waste.
Unless he made you his.
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Part 2
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Masterlist
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scoobysnakz · 3 months
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miguel who fucks you soft. sloppy kisses against your lips as he pumps into you, soft clicking sounds filling the bedroom. he loves taking his time with you, watching you writhe against the sheets and moan in ecstasy with the pleasure only he can give you.
he loves sucking your swollen nipples softly, tongue circling around the hardened nub as his free hand reaches up to gently flick the other. he always makes sure you’re doing okay, cant have his cariño covered in bruises and hickeys, now, can he?
the sticky white ring that forms on the base of his cock drives him insane, but he refuses to go too hard, scared if hurting his precious girl and that you won’t like it.
he props your body up with a pillow under your head, tilting it upwards so he can look you in the eyes as he spews random praise, barley stringing together coherent sentences.
this has to feel good for you, your climax always comes first no matter what.
spider-man who ravishes you. he’ll drag his talons along your plush skin, not caring that it will leave a mark for all to see, he wants people to know your his. he leaves a trail if heated, desperate kisses down your neck before nipping at your erect nipples, only growing harder at the shocked whines that escape you.
his hips snap fiercely against your ass, his balls slapping harshly onto your already reddened skin. he delivers brutal slaps to your ass, loving the way it stays red, knowing it will stay that way for ages.
its all about getting his cock as deep inside you as possible, filling you up with his cum so you can have his little arañas, so you can give him a family.
he wants to see you thrashing around, hips twitching upwards for more when he pulls out, edging you because he knows you’ll accept it.
by the time he’s finished with you, you’re covered in hickeys and buries, red marks all over your body from where his fangs have caught while he was hungrily sucking on every inch of you, scratches from when your cunt milked him too well and his talons sprung out.
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yanderestarangel · 9 months
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Tw: Nsfw, explicit smut, my writing.
This man is sexually insane, seriously, he will fuck you practically every day he can, not many opportunities because of his responsibility as leader of the spider society, but whenever he can he will fuck you without thinking twice.
Miguel is a very needy man even if he hates to show it to you or anyone, he is extremely needy and jealous, seriously, Miguel will fuck you a lot when he's jealous and will be extremely aggressive.
Miguel is also a donor, he loves sucking and praising your pussy with his tongue, if he could he would stay 24h between your legs while sucking and sucking the soft flesh of your pussy, teasing with his lips, tongues and even biting the part inner thighs with his fangs, he loves and will leave you marked, for all to see that you are his and no one else's.
♡He's a fucking walking kink, he likes to try a little bit of everything, some of them being:
Aggressive sex - his favorite when he comes home stressed from his Spider-Man job or when he needs to punish you for pissing him off, teasing or making him jealous, even if it's not your fault, your poor holes won't escape his rage.
Passionate, slow sex - when he feels needy and just wants to slide his thick, needy shaft inside you and move his hips slowly while whispering sweet nothings in Spanish, his native language, while pounding into you at a slow, steady pace. Provocative, Miguel is a very difficult man to talk his feelings about, but fucking him slowly and passionately makes the spider leader loosen up with you.
Recorded sex - Miguel loves to record you having sex, he always has all the recordings he can make of your lusty reactions while you two make love, he feels a strange warmth and relaxation watching your beautiful reactions on video, while working in the spider society, even using their sweet moans to soothe herself as their worked.
"-Look at the camera mi carinõ, I need to get your best angle, smile for the camera while I fuck you" - Miguel spoke authoritatively while positioning the cell phone camera in your pussy, moving the cock in and out, while getting his best angle .
Daddykink - Believe me, Miguel loves being called "Daddy" it's a title of power for him, it's a title that reminds him that he commands you and you are his little submissive in bed and in your couple life, he loves to make you moan in bed and scream calling him "Daddy", "Papi" and "Papito".
Unprotected sex - Spiderman 2099 is a sex freak without a condom, Miguel has enough money and opportunities to buy a suitcase full of condoms for you to use but, he doesn't want to, he'll fuck you skin to skin, for you to feel every thick vein pulsing on the sides of his cock as he thrust the head of his cock into your womb easily, rhythmic strokes and leaving a wet trail between both groins.
He's a great partner, loving when he gets to be, but he has a problem, O'Hara is a jealous and possessive madman.
If he sees you flirting with someone else, whether male or female, especially if it's another Spider-Man, you will suffer the consequences, they will be the lightest: he has a little fight with you in his office, saying he doesn't like it of your closeness with another Spider-Man, or ignoring you for the rest of the day and pretending you two aren't a couple or worst/best of all, fucking you with all the rage and strength he has at the moment, degrading you like a slut .
"-You're just a hole for Daddy to use." Miguel growled, his voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and anger. "This is your purpose - to please and obey me. Remember that, (Y/N), while Daddy fucks your mouth without mercy."
"-You can feel my cock slipping out of your mouth, but this is far from over"
"-I will not release you (Y/N), not until you submit fully to me, until you understand the consequences of testing my patience."
"-That's it, you slut," Miguel growled, his voice thick with the Mexican accent present, as he pulled your hair back and thrust harder and harder without mercy into your pussy.
"-Take every inch of my dick. Show me you're mine, completely and utterly mine, you're just a dick-hungry little whore, aren't you?" -Miguel spoke in a hoarse tone, letting out loud moans that echoed through the walls of the room, while he threw you on the bed and thrust his length into your pussy again with a painful and pleasurable thrust.
"-That's what you were made for, to adore my cock, to satisfy my every desire, you're a whore to Daddy, aren't you?" -Miguel chuckled sadistically as he lifted one of your thighs, rubbing the throbbing cock on your aching clit, thrusting the tip of the cock in and out again to tease you, then ramming it all into your overstimulated hole; "-Take it all, choke your tight pussy on my cock, show me how much you need me, how much you want my dominance (Y/N)."
"-Tu condemned coño es mío."- Miguel continued to speak as he pounded his cock into her soft and tight folds, while you could feel Miguel's balls hitting your clitoris painfully.
"-Go and follow it and make sure you never forget who you belong to."
"-Daddy's going to make you come so hard, my sweet (Y/N)."
"-You're mine to pleasure and possess me in to the pleasure, my little slut, cum on my dick, cum on your Papi's dick."
©𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥
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