#Miggy Miggy

[str4ngr]

hold on tight [ miguel o’hara ]

lil bit of a ramble, no capitalism

cw: gn! reader, fluff, a lil angst but not yk? essencially angst w/ comfort

patience was always something miguel struggled with. whether it be with the coffee machine, the elevator, or an anomaly, he was unbelievably impatient. it was impressive, how much effort it took for him to actually learn- well, to deal with waiting would be more accurate. running errands, shouting, eating, all some of his favorite pass times.

until you.

oh, you. you were the one that made every thirty-four hour shift feel like nothing when he got to see your smile. you were the one that never broke when he tried to bend you, deescalating, compromising, understanding. you were the one who blushed so perfectly when his heart fell from his lips unto yours, alluring eyes shining in adorable romance as looked at him.

romance was hard for a man like him. one who never really experienced such sweetness for such an extensive time, he almost forgot. what he certainly did have, was fear.

how else should he feel when his heart starts to race when he walks with you? there was no threat, apart from maybe a chihuahua, but regardless, the metaphor "a walk in the park", was a metaphor for a reason, right? so what was this... absurd jittering? the sweaty palms, the hyper focused vision, the powerful smell of your shampoo... your shampoo? no, that was your conditioner. he knew the difference. He knew the difference of each hair product, the frizz the sticks out from the back of your head when you rush to dry your hair. 

oh but he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. no matter what you said, the way you shifted under his burning gaze, timid and flustered as his eyes bloomed with unfathomable degrees of adoration as he held every feature of your face in his eyelids. he couldn’t get past the eerie tingling the crawled from his fingertips to his shoulders, making the hairs. on his arm grow as he realized just how close your knuckles were to his. 

your hand looked so warm, soft. just so perfect to hold.

but could he? could he hold onto you if the world dissolves again? could he ever trust himself-

a warmth so familiar yet new enveloped his hand. calming, mind bogglingly, comforting, was your touch as you gently clasped his hand, your palm meeting his as your eyes avert from his. painting of rosy cheeks, shy eyes as you smile softly, your thumb running over his rough knuckles, squeezing his hand softly. 

miguel could hold onto you. so he squeezed back.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

crying a lil bit

omfg this took me so long to figure out.

about the angst... it will hopefully be out by early september!!

directory.

[luvrxbunny]

hold it

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Pussy Slapping

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex, praise, subspace but miguel doesn’t bring her back (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.4k

A/N: a few things- not a lot of Spanish cus people made me too nervous abt it. the prompt doesn't really factor into the story that much imo, sorry- not feeling super good abt this one tbh :( (not proofread)

He slaps you again and your teeth dig into your lip to keep your cries in. “Keep it in, sweetheart. I’m not breeding you so you can waste it all.” You nod frantically at him, aiming to please him as you clench all your muscles and try your best to hold his cum inside. You watch a satisfied smile spread over his face and his fingers come down to your pussy and spread your lips, watching your hole twitch. “That’s it. There we go, good girl.”

Your entire body is sensitive from how he’s been using you. He came home desperate to breed you and why would you refuse? Once he came in you though, he told you to hold it in, to keep all his cum inside you to ensure it takes, but your weak, post-orgasm body and your post-sex hazed brain couldn’t keep up. 

You’re laying back on the pillows, one leg over his thighs and he’s sitting halfway between your legs. His eyes are stuck on your pussy, watching the way you quiver to hold his load in, especially with how he’s been teasing you. He’s mesmerized by the sight, some of his cum already leaking out, a small stream breaking through as you whimper at your lack of control. 

You try to hold it in but eventually, your body gives up, too over-stimulated by his repeated slaps over your clit, the wet sound it makes when his hand connects with your pussy. He has this teasing, amused smirk on his face every time your body trembles after he hits you. You couldn’t handle it. Miguel grabs your thigh that’s in his lap and spreads you open further, watching as you twitch and let go, letting his cum slide out of you and onto his sheets. Then he slapped your pussy the moment he could see his cum sliding out of you. 

“I told you to hold it.” His voice is stern, non-negotiable, and sends a shiver down your spine as you tense all your muscles again. He laughs quietly, low and teasing. “I’m just gonna have to fill you again.”

He tuts at you, gives a disappointed sigh, and crawls back between your legs. You’re deep in subspace, wanting nothing more than to please him and taking his sigh as real, genuine disappointment. Tears well in your eyes and you whimper your apology as he lines himself with your entrance. “M’ sorry, Miguel. I-” You’re cut off by him sliding inside you, forcing a sob-like moan to fall from your lips. His eyes snap to your face at the sound, he’s climbing up your body and cradling your face within seconds.

“What’s this? You wanna stop, sweetheart?” You shake your head vigorously and wrap all your limbs around him, holding him close to you, pressing all his warmth against yours, and leaving pleasured cries in his ear. “C’mon, talk to me, amor.” He hasn’t moved inside you but his hands haven’t stopped caressing your body. He slides up your back to the base of your neck and gently pulls you away from him. Your eyes are closed, little tears resting on your lashes, chipping away at his heart. You sniffle once and try to tilt up into him, forcing his cock to slide against your walls in the way only he can. Instead, he forces your hips back to the bed with a soft grunt and looks back at you expectantly. So you give in.

“Jus’ wanna be good for you, Miggy.” Realization, sadness, and relief course through him. He hadn’t noticed you were so far gone, too caught up in his own mission, his need to fill you again and again, but the fact that he missed your needs because they were clouded by his own sends a pang of hurt through his heart. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, nose then lips. You moan sweetly against him, hands instantly coming up to tangle in his hair and pull him closer to you. He pulls away and gives you one more kiss before looking deep into your eyes. “You’re always good for me, sweetheart. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” 

He feels your clench on him at his words, a soft smile coming to his face at your predictability. You pull him closer to your face, just centimeters from his lips, and grind yourself up into him, earning a gentle moan from his lips. “See? So perfect, amor.” He thrusts into you, deep and hitting your G-Spot on his first try. His name comes out of your mouth as a shout, your nails dig into his back as you try and stabilize yourself. 

His hips speed up, starting their more brutal pace, knocking any stray thoughts loose from your head. He’s fixated on your face, hyper-vigilant to your reactions, making sure you’re enjoying yourself, that he’s giving you everything you need. He’s already desperate to cum in you, his cock still sensitive from the load he gave you a few minutes ago. You’re letting out high-pitched, passionate moans into his room, filling the space with sounds of you and your soaked pussy. His cock twitches inside you at the sound and you feel it. 

You let out a desperate moan and slam your lips into his, wet, needy, and messy. His spit ends up all over your face, you’re just trying to lick at him, into his mouth, over his lips, anything he’ll give you. Your desperation has his moaning raggedly into your mouth, his hips slamming into you harder, his tip bruising your cervix as he abuses it. “I love you so much, Miggy.” Your words stab arousal through him like a hot knife, slicing through his entire being. He collapses over you, groaning your name into your neck, almost deafening you with their volume. 

You’re always so soft for him, it’s almost painful how much it turns him on. He’s been slapping and abusing your pussy all night and you’re still so in love. You re-angle his head, forcing him to focus on you, watching the love that you’re pouring into your gaze. It’s making his balls tingle, and tense when they slap against your ass. “Te amo más bebé” His moan is smooth with the words as they slide from his mouth.

(“I love you more, baby”)

His muscles draw tight as he cock twitces inside you. “M’gonna fill you up. Gotta-” He tilts your hips toward him, forcing his cock deeper, pressing into your cervix almost painfully and he whimpers at the feeling. “-llegar tan profundo como pueda. Make sure you can keep it all in, bebé.” His hips begin to stutter and shake against yours as you tighten endlessly around him. You’re so out of it, all you can feel is the pleasure he’s giving you and your orgasm that’s about to snap in your stomach. Miguel grinds into you one more time, shaky, slow, and hard. You’re cumming around him. You moan a garbled version of his name, so loud and wrecked you barely recognize your voice in your ears. The sounds are ravaging Miguel though, they’re sending shocks through his body and he suddenly can’t hold on any longer. 

(“-get as deep as I can”)

He hunches over you, forcing his cock deeper, sending a new explosion of pleasure through your body with the sensations. He’s flooding your wet heat, painting you, coating your walls completely in his seed as he moans your name into the sex-scented air. He mutters love notes to you on repeat as he lets out rope after rope of cum into you. He’s breathing in his shaky breaths along with the scent of your hair as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and pulls out slowly. You whimper at the loss of his stretch and it oddly warms his chest, that you still want him after he’s been with you since he got home. 

He grabs a little towel on the side of the bed and wipes himself down before turning to do the same to you. Only to find you with your fingers buried deep inside yourself. He would be hard again if he had anything left in him. He basically runs back to your side, wanting an explanation but instead getting an even more erotic scene. Your eyes are on his, looking like you’re pleading for something and he can’t decipher what. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?”

You nod at him eagerly and little tears well in your eyes. “M’keepin’ it all in for you, Miggy.” He’s stunned to silence at your words, unable to believe how deep you are. “Tell- Tell me I’m good—? I’m- Am I being good?”

He almost passes out. He feels his sensitive cock fattening up again. Apparently, he does have something left in him. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Blue ♡

[pandadrake]

Spider-Society and The Day of Lots of Involuntary Trips to Earth-19999. (Finally finished this, god damn.)

I hadn’t seen any takes on what Spider-Society was like during Spider-man: No Way Home (2021), so I thought about it too hard.

I.e. I pulled up a clip of No Way Home to see what the Peter-abduction spell would look like from Miguel’s POV, then realized he'd have no idea what he's looking at and would probably mistake it for something else.

[mcelroyfamilystaff]

In the Clubhouse chat a week or two ago someone said "I want to believe" about Miggy's odds of surviving the intro that week, and McKay wasted no time in making this gem - and then quickly realized it needed one tiny modification.

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who despises that shithead #10 for being too rough with his precious baby girl on the field. He can't wait until Gabi's old enough for the all girl's team, but until then, Miguel would have to cope with watching the boys on the opposition get away with completely barreling through his little angel.

soccer dad!miguel who yells over all the soccer moms on the sideline, making sure his booming praise reaches Gabriela and his childishly cruel berating throws off whoever's trying to tackle her as she dribbles the ball up the field.

soccer dad!miguel who loses his absolute shit when Gabi is elbowed to the ground by that #10 kid. His fatherly instincts consume him and without thinking, he storms onto the field cursing at the ref and yelling all sorts of profanities in both Spanish and English. His veins bulge in his biceps and head as he rushes over to console Gabriela, but he swallows his outrage momentarily to crouch down on the grass.

soccer dad!miguel who carries himself with such tenderness when checking to make sure his daughter isn't injured, sighing heavily with relief when he's met with a reassuring smile from the mildly frazzled little girl. That soft demeanour completely transforms into pure protectiveness and anger as he stands up and turns to glare at #10, his tall, tan, muscular body towering over the little boy.

"¿Qué demonios fue eso? Just because you want to win doesn’t mean you have to push and shove. That kind of behaviour is for losers. Weren’t you raised to treat girls with respect?" He scolds, his voice dripping with judgement as his sharp red eyes bore into the poor kid.

soccer dad!miguel who can't help but scoff, unimpressed, when the little boy starts crying, his stature and harsh words obviously scaring the kid as he sniffles and looks back and forth between Gabriela and Miguel apologetically, but he's unable to find his words in the presence of such an intimidating grown up. Miguel’s attention shifts to the young woman rushing onto the field towards #10, a scowl on his face.

“Watch your mouth, asshole. He’s just a kid playing a game, it’s not like he was trying to hurt her!” You yell at the tall, stoic man. You reach out to comfort the little boy, wiping away his tears.

soccer dad!miguel who hasn’t seen such a beautiful girl in his entire life. His ex-wife was okay, but their relationship turned nasty, all remnants of feelings completely soiled by her tendency to lie and cheat. He finds himself checking you out, sharp red eyes lingering on your curves before he feels Gabi hugging his leg and he’s immediately snapped back into his state of disdain and rage.

“Your kid has been roughing my daughter up the whole damn day. Doesn’t seem like a fun game to me.” Miguel counters, patting Gabriela’s head as he glares at you.

“For starters, he’s not my kid. And also, she’s not even hurt! I’ll admit, it wasn’t a clean tackle, but you’re overreacting and you’re making an innocent kid cry.” You scoff, finding this grown man’s behaviour unbelievable as your nephew cowers behind your leg, leaving you and Miguel staring each other down.

soccer dad!miguel who’s aware that he can be a bit overprotective of Gabriela at times, and begrudgingly decides to back down. Especially when you’re looking at him with those beautiful eyes. He’d let this random woman do anything to him as long as she’s looking at him with those eyes.

“Shit… look, I may have come off more aggressive than I intended. I didn’t mean to scare your…?” Miguel begins, shrugging his shoulders as he looks down at Gabi and then back up at you.

“Nephew.”

“Your nephew. He just needs to watch out not to do any damage to the other players, especially the girls.” Miguel says softly, trying to be the bigger person for Gabriela’s sake (and also because he wants to distract himself from how hot it was when you told him off)

soccer dad!miguel who forgets about being nice and friendly when you shrug him off with a frustrated “whatever” and walk off hand-in-hand with your nephew. That’s when he looks around in confusion to see that the game had ended and everyone had left the field. Miguel picks Gabi up and kisses the side of her head, although he's still seething at how that #10 got off unscathed and you didn't even attempt to acknowledge his attempts at an apology for losing his cool. He spends the entire afternoon silently dreading the next time the two teams have a game together, because he'll have to endure the sight of that little shit and his aunty with the fat ass.

NEXT PART

[sp1der-wid0w]

how miguel o’hara would react to his baby’s first words ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

⋆˚࿔ 🕸️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ when you gave birth to your daughter, it was the best thing to ever happen in his miserable, depressing life. he finally found happiness, a purpose, an even greater reason to protect the multiverse. he finally had the family that he truly deserved. one day, miguel was sitting on the living room floor with gabi, watching her play with her blocks. she accidentally knocks over her castle and giggles in amusement.

"careful there, pequenita," he says gently, a grin on his face as he tidies up the fallen blocks. "you're gonna get a visit from the block police at this rate." gabi giggles and reaches out, grabbing a block and throwing it at his chest, which in turn makes miguel chuckle. "hey now," he says, faking a stern expression, "no throwing blocks at daddy." she coos, and claps her hands. then, “d…” miguel's expression softens as gabriella tries to repeat the word 'daddy’. “that’s right, gabi, daddy.” he encourages, his voice gentle. "d-a-d-d-y."

“d..da…” she struggles. miguel's eyes lit up, and his smile widens. “that's it, sweetie. 'd-a-d-d-y'." he patiently waits for her to try again. "you can do it," he says, encouragingly. "daaaaddy."

"dad!" she finally says, and claps her hands. miguel's eyes widen in surprise and delight. he lifts her up, and begins to spin her around in the air. "that's it, gabi! you said it! you said 'daddy! good girl, good girl!"

"what, what happened?" you asked, coming into the room with your hair in a bun, and having lipstick in your hand. miguel looks at you and sets gabi back down on the floor. "you’ll never guess what happened, (y/n)," he says, his eyes gleaming with pride. "gabi finally said ‘dad’!"

“wait what?” you blurted out, clearly taken aback by the news. miguel nods, still grinning like a proud parent. "yup," he confirms, unable to hold back his happiness. "she said 'finally said it'.” he motions toward gabi, who’s still sitting on the floor playing with her blocks. "come, see for yourself." you go over to where your little bundle of joy was sitting, and sat down on the ground with her. “gabi, let me hear?” you asked her, gently.

gabi looks up at you, and seems to understand what you’re asking, and a bright smile spreads across her face. "dada!" she exclaims, looking up at miguel. you gasped and don’t know whether to feel happy or jealous. oh what the hell, it’s both! “yessss! i’m so proud of you!” you said with pride in your voice. gabi gleefully claps her hands at your praise, clearly enjoying the attention. you then pick her up, and bounce her in the air, tickling her tummy. miguel then brings you both into a hug, and you all sit down on the couch, watching gabi play with her blocks again.

"you know.. you’ve always been an amazing mother," he says, a tone of sincerity in his voice. you began to blush, even as a married couple, miguel always made you feel like a schoolgirl. he reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender and affectionate. "i mean it, you're the best mom gabi could have ever asked for..” he says, his expression softening at you.

“i love you miguel..” you hummed, cuddling in the crook of his neck.

“i love you too.” he said, with a thick of emotion in it.

[hajihiko]

inspired by a convo with @miggylol, some Peko loving ❤ I wouldn't call it a xmas present but maybe ... a stocking stuffer?

[theorphicangel]

a rare morning. miguel x reader

Stirring awake, your hands rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the new day that lies ahead of you. The coldness of the room makes you shuffle your feet against his calves, attempting to derive some warmth from his body.

He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling, light— no, heavy snores leaving his mouth. Miguel’s hands are loosely wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. And with every exhale your skin tingles from his breath.

Selfishly, you desire to move. You want to stretch your limbs to escape from the past restraint of sleep. But you hesitate, desperately trying to think of a way to do so without disturbing your lover from his sleep. He’s been working till late recently and waking up at times that no human possibly should be waking up at.

But, this morning was a rare morning. A rare morning where he’s promised to stay in and spend some time with you.

And he can tell that you’ve been missing him lately. Your failed attempts to stay up and wait for him were obvious, he’d often find you asleep on the couch with a book opened on its spine adjacent.

Becoming restless with every second, you decide to get up for a glass of water. Now you knew that you would have to be stragtegic. One wrong move and you’ll wake up him up. You first problem was the hands that held your waist.

Carefully, you begin guide one hand off. His large hands severely contrasting your own. You freeze at the sound of a groan, then an inaudible murmur.

‘Is he awake?’ You think to yourself. Anxiously, you wait a few seconds until his breathing returns to normal and place his hand away from you.

Now you just had to remove the other one and you’d be ‘free’ to go, that is if you don’t wake him up. Your hand only seem to make it to his wrist before you’re stopped.

“Baby?”

shit.

Another groan leaves Miguel’s throat and simulatenously, his hand wraps around your waist again.

“M’just going for a glass of water.” You whisper.

“Stay.”

“M’ really thirsty, I’ll come back.”

He mumbles again and you can’t make out what he’s saying, his mouth slightly covered by his pillow.

“baby I can’t hear you.”

“I’ll go, you stay.” He mumbles.

“Mig’-“

“Just five more minutes.”

And with that, his hands are all over you again, caging you back with him. mission unaccomplished.

You settle back into his arms, accepting your fate. You guess you can wait a few more hours.

After a few minutes of silence, a muffled voice is heard by your shoulder.

“are you still thirsty, nena? Because I can go get you that glass—“

“no miggy, m’fine.” you smile. Perhaps if it was any other morning you’d still be restless but this?

You rarely got to experience this. his arms around you, his bare skin on yours, his naked soul entwined with your own. Upon meeting him for the first time you would have never thought that this is how you’d end up. Being one of the only people that he feels comfortable around. So much so, that he feels comfortable being vulnerable with you.

and you wouldn’t take it for granted. not anymore.

i love him your honor. :(

[crookedvultures]

Sunburn🌞 // by AndalusiaLu

[luvrxbunny]

need

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Thigh Fucking

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv attempts, hurt pussy, some sad feelings, creampie(?)  (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.5k

A/N: *sulking in a corner* not proofread at all

He’s gotten used to it, the constant stabbing pain at the base of his stomach, the daydreams and fantasies that plague his every free minute. He’s more sensitive too, you can do anything and it’ll turn him on, make him hard, or raise a new fantasy for him to jerk off to later that night. He got used to waking up in the morning with a throbbing pain between his legs, or a cold wetness soaking his underwear. He got used to having to sneak away to the bathroom, lock himself in his office with his blinds pulled shut because you decided to drop by, or you made him lunch and left a note that was a bit too cute for him to handle. 

He never asked why you didn’t seem to have any sexual interest in him. He assumed that you either didn’t want him that way, or you weren't ready. So when you told him that the real reason was because you’re a virgin… His pain increased tenfold. All his fantasies, all the material he could think of late a night became visions of him taking your virginity, working his fat cock into your tight, unused, untouched, hole. It became a hindrance to his day, something he thought about more than he worried about canon events. He couldn’t get you out of his head, he didn't want to pressure you so he didn’t voice desperation, but it’s like you were trying to provoke him. 

You became more open, more okay with talking about sex, and your fantasies and asking him questions, voicing your curiosities. He found out that you actually think about him quite a bit, almost all the time apparently. There was an entire night, filled with a few blunts and alcohol where you spent hours, literal hours, telling him about all the fantasies you’ve had. You told him about your most used ones, all the ‘odd’ things that turn you on. He had to hide his boner, almost crushing his beer in his hand with how tense he was and his needs doubled again, turning his blood to molten lava.

Then you offered it to him, you came to him and told him you wanted him to be the one who takes your virginity, you wanted his cock to be the first to enter your special little cunt. He almost blacked out. He came at you like a frenzy that night, licking and sucking every part of your body before working you open and lining himself up with your precious hole. Only to find that he couldn’t fit. You couldn’t take all of him, he was able to get a quarter of his dick inside before tears were streaming down your face. You told him he could keep going, that you could take it but you were on the verge of sobbing, there wasn't one break in your stream of tears and this is not the way he wanted you crying on him. He pulled out against your will and spent the night comforting you, telling you it’s fine, that you can try again, as many times as you need… and that's what you guys did. 

It’s been about two months of trying to fit him inside you and it’s becoming unbearable. You guys try every other night, sometimes taking more time in between if you’re too sore or you guys are swamped at work. You guys haven’t done anything else in this entire period of time, wanting the next thing you do together, to be him taking your virginity. He agreed not realizing how long it would take. His hand is nowhere near sufficient anymore, no matter how he tries to pretend it’s yours- especially now that he’s had half his dick inside you. It’s a cycle of build-up, tease, Miguel comforting you, and no-release. 

You’re both pent-up. It’s another night of disappointment, you guys had gotten a little further this time, almost his whole cock and you began to think that this was it, Miguel was finally going to have your virginity. Instead, you tore. It was small, it didn’t even feel like much, a sharp burn at the base of your hole. You decided you would just power through, the burn was worth the fulfillment you’d feel at taking him all, at long last, having your boyfriend be completely connected with you, completely surrounded by you. But Miguel knew you were bleeding, there wasn’t enough that he could see it but he could smell the copper in the air and he forced you to stop. 

You fell asleep upset with yourself and listening to Miguel’s loving words, assuring you he’d rather you enjoy yourself than power through for him but you just felt like a failure. All your life you dreamed of losing your virginity to someone you love, someone who cares about you, someone who deserves it, and now that you’ve finally found that person, you can’t even give it to him. You’re too embarrassed to concede, to give up and jerk him off instead. You want him to cum inside you, you’ve even started birth control secretly, hoping to surprise him once he gets close enough. You’d fantasized about the moan he’d let out once telling him that he can just cum inside you, but you’re too small to even get him anywhere near cumming, let alone inside you. 

You wake up to Miguel groaning in pain, you’re a bit scared at the noise but your fear gets replaced by sadness once you see the source of his pain; a fat bulge resting over his thigh, tenting the sheets slightly. You peak up at his face, making sure it’s slack with sleep before focusing on his hard cock again. You sit, lift your head and rest it on your palm, leaning over Miguel a bit as your other hand comes to stroke over the bulge gently. Your eyes are fixed on his face, watching his eyebrows twitch with your touch. It brings a little rush of pleasure through you, knowing you can pleasure him with the slightest bit of pressure. 

You cover him with your hand, cupping it to feel its length and girth against your palm. He whimpers lightly, a sound you’ve never even fantasized about hearing from him, but you know that no matter what you do, you need to hear it again. You can feel his warmth and the way he’s pulsing under your hand, his fingers dig into the sheets gently next to his thighs and his hips lift off the bed momentarily, trying to pleasure himself with you. 

Your eyes leave his face to watch his movements, deciding to give him some mercy and rub your hand along his shaft, stimulating him through his sweatpants and the thin blanket. You’re mesmerized by his stuttering, sleepy movements, at the soft whimpers that fall loosely from his lips. A gasp breaks the trance and his hands lift from the bed quickly to grip your wrists and his hips thrust up, forcing your palm to put pressure on his sensitive cock and just stay. “B-Baby- ”

His voice is thick and confused with delirium, still not completely aware of what’s happening but all he knows is he doesn’t want you to stop. He’s buzzing, thrumming, and vibrating with arousal, with desperation for you, need for you.  

His eyes meet yours in the dark, taking in your obviously turned-on state, how dilated your eyes are and how your sweet scent is already soaking the air, your taste ghosting over his tongue with every breath he takes. His eyes roll back at the thought, paired with your pressure on his throbbing cock and you pull away. He tries to hold in his groan, trying to be grateful for anything you’ll give him but a small squeak of sadness is what comes out and he chuckles softly at the noise. 

You’re still silent, surrounded by your need for him, the only thought in your head is that you need to make him cum. His thick arm comes around you, resting next to your shoulder and pushing you to him gently, nudging you in his direction for a kiss. You smile and drape yourself over his chest, leaning on him and pressing your lips to him. He groans and pulls you closer, admiring your warmth and pressing his cock into the plush of your thighs as he pulls you on top of him. You giggle and help him situate you over him, the base of his cock resting against your neglected clit, sending a shock of pleasure through you and turning your giggles into a light whine. 

Miguel breathes in a sharp breath at your noise, trying to ignore how badly he wants to hold you down and just grind his cock into you until he cums, staining his clothes and hopefully leaving a mark on yours but he keeps himself in check, offering you a fond smile instead. “You okay, amor?” His hand is rubbing up and down your back now, calmly like he isn’t throbbing against your clit right now. You think of just grinding into him, sitting up to straddle him,  and just fucking his bulge into your clit until you’re cumming all over him. “I wanna cum.” Your voice is weak and pathetic, tired and desperate. 

His eyelids flutter at your words and tone, and his arms tense around you, pressing his muscles into your sides for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Yeah? I can-” He takes another shaky breath as his cock throbs beneath you. “I can make that happen, baby. How do you want it?” His stomach is burning at his words, at the hope of getting to touch you, to make you cum. You’re just staring at him, watching him as you think, trying to figure out a way that will satisfy you both. He’s just getting hotter under your gaze, riled up further by your eyes as his hips rise off the bed slowly, pressing his cock into you subconsciously and his eyelids flutter shut at the pleasure.

Your brain is hazy with his movements, his subtle desperation, it’s driving you crazy. You arch your back and seize his lips again with a soft moan. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into him with a groan. You pull away and pant against his lips, running your fingers through his slightly tangled curls and pressing your forehead against his. “Put it against me. Between my thighs.” He growls at your request and flips you both onto your sides, already nodding at you and working his sweatpants off of his legs, kicking them off under the covers. “You want that, honey?” 

His hand cups your face as his other wrestles his cock from its confines. “You want that? Take these off.” He yanks at your underwear, roughly enough that they dig into your skin harshly before snapping back. You wiggle them off and slide your shirt off, wanting to be as close to Miguel as you can. You can’t stop the pout that settles on your face when you realize he plans to leave his shirt on. He laughs lovingly at your face. “Want me to take it off?” He says with a teasing tilt to his voice. You laugh and slide closer to him, taking the hem of his shirt into your hands and already trying to pull it over his head. “Jus wanna be closer t’you, Miggy.” 

The nickname flips something inside him. You only use that name when you’re feeling extra soft for him, extra tender, and needy. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He pulls you in for a quick kiss before taking his shirt off and kissing you again, swallowing the whine you give him when your naked body rests against his. His wet cock slides against your skin, teasing his sensitive tip, forcing a ragged moan from his mouth when it slides over your mound. You giggle at his reaction, smiling at his eyes, squeezed shut as he takes slow breaths, trying to calm himself. You open your legs, grip his cock, and rest it on your thigh, his eyes snap open. You smile and pull him in for another kiss as he reaches behind him blindly for some lube, lotion, coconut oil- something to get your thighs anywhere near as wet as your pussy is. 

You take rest your hand over his as he rubs himself with lube, moaning into your mouth at the sensation. He brings his hand to your face, giggling and apologizing when it smears with lube but devouring you in a kiss once you tell him it’s okay. You close your legs over his cock and whimper into the kiss when his shaft fits itself between your lips. He pulls away with a moan and his hips start fucking into you fervently, overly sensitive and desperate after months of denial. You’re moaning loud and whiny at the way he’s assaulting your clit, constantly stimulating her from the way he’s thrusting against you. You’re digging into his shoulders, feeling the way they flex as his hands grip your hips and run all over your body frantically. 

“I’m not gonna last, mi amor.” The words spit out of him quickly as his thrusts get shorter, more focused on making himself cum than making the moment last. His head is clouded with need, his balls are pulsing painfully and his cock is throbbing between your thighs. You’re gripping his hair like you’ll fly away if you let go and moaning his name like it’s the only word you know. Your hips are bucking into him too now, some incoherent words falling from your lips like music to his ears. 

You’re trying to tell him that you won’t last either, that you’re on the brink of cumming already, that you’ve been craving him for months, and finally having him is one of the best things you’ve felt but your brain has been shut off since he started moving his hips. You can feel the heat in your stomach bubbling over already, spilling into your bloodstream as you shake against him. “Mig-” Your thighs tense and shake around his cock as he groans your name, almost overwhelmed with how you’re stimulating his cock, at how you’ve been unable to get any sound out but once you’re cumming you can find the strength to say his name. You’re shaking on him, your eyes are rolled back into your head and your jaw is dropped open in a silent moan. 

He’s able to grunt out a warning to you before thrusting once- twice- you reach down for his cock and spread your legs, opening to fit him against your entrance. His third thrust stutters to a stop and he’s cumming. 

Fuck. He’s cumming inside you. 

He folds over like he’s been punched in the gut, a rough moan tearing from his chest as his cock throbs against your wet walls. He sounds distraught, like you’ve ruined him. His entire body is tensing in time with the ropes of cum he’s filling you with. It’s an entire flood, a surplus of cum he’s pouring into you, he feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He never even imagined that you’d let him cum inside you, let alone that it’d feel so fucking good. He shudders out a groan and holds you to his chest, giving you curt thrusts to ensure he doesn’t push in too deep but still trying to fuck him cum into you. His eyes are crossed painfully and all the air is gone from his lungs as you pulse around him, massaging his tip and forcing him to give you more cum.

Your name is the only thing he can utter as his cock spews its last few ropes into you, softening and letting his cum leak onto your thighs, leaving a slick, shimmering trail on you as it soaks into the bed.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[mrsoharaa]

when you invite Miguel over to your place to retrieve the latest reports you had finally managed to finish, you stumble out into your living room to find the over exerted 6'9 man sprawled out on your couch completely passed out. languid limbs just half haphazardly spilling amongst the tiny furniture compared to his abnormal (hot) size. and you can't help but smile at the adoring sight, little trickles of his wavy perfect hair stripping down his face, chest rising and falling with steady breaths, slight drool dipping from the corners of his pretty lips.

god, he was such an ethereal man.

you place the reports down amongst the coffee table that stood before him, fetching off to grab a blanket and carefully covering his oversized stature with the fleece throw blanket. tucking it delicately against his rigid body. you smile again, left hand absentmindedly, tenderly smoothing along his forehead, brushing some of the loose strands of soft mocha from his restful face.

a low hum stirs against his chest, sleep still wooing him deeper into your couch.

your heart palpitates restlessly against your chest, sighing softly, as you lean forward to place a ghost like kiss against his forehead. fingers lightly combing through the sleek strands of his hair as you smooth over it.

"you work too hard Miguel, sleep well..."

[honestsycrets]

omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡

grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader

❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.

❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit

❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.

❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated

❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.

He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip. 

“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you. 

“What?”

“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.” 

“Like I said she would."

Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”

That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.

“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”

“Not that big?” 

You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.

He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time. 

Then you fuck him!

His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.

“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.” 

Oh. You made a mistake.

You don’t like it when Miguel is angry. 

Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight. 

He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen. 

“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.

“Perdóname, papi.” 

Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @? 

She’s just his employee.

Need this.

Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup. 

“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch. 

“Ah. Sí.” 

You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.

He takes the cup away.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind. 

“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days. 

“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled. 

You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.

“You told me to make sure it sold.” 

“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”

“You don’t like it?” 

"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.

“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”

“Fuck me.” 

“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.” 

“Then do it. You have a camera.”

What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing. 

“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”

“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.

“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls. 

“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.” 

When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.

“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?” 

He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.

“I’m sorry--” 

“Ya sé.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.

“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera? 

“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?” 

You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.

His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.

“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.” 

“But Elena is on her w--” 

“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.” 

If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.

[dienamights]

If you think anything will sour my mood after seeing me and my MAN, you’re deadass WRONG!!!!

Thank you miggi @miggiisdumb you made me so ridiculously incredibly happy ilysm muah

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who, even with all the stress of his divorce, being a single father, and his job as a fancy geneticist at Alchemax, manages to keep a tidy home. His apartment is pretty minimalist, with the exception of a few decorations and clutter items that obviously stem from Gabriela's influence. Upon scanning the place, you take a breath and hold Tony's hand as the two of you step past Miguel and make your way inside. You nudge Tony slightly, coaxing a smile out of him directed at Gabriela, who politely smiles back.

"Um, you can come with me, if you want. I can show you the game room." Gabriela offers Tony, gesturing for him to follow her through the big apartment. You cant help but smile at how welcoming the little girl is compared to her father, who's still standing in the open front doorway, as if contemplating his choices.

Tony follows Gabriela with a little bit of resistance, now associating her company with being berated by her scary ass dad. But once he looks back and sees that Miguel isn't getting as involved as usual, Tony happily lets Gabriela lead him to the game room.

soccer dad!miguel who is stuck standing in a trance after your shoulder brushed against his upper abdomen so softly. God, it's been so long since a woman touched him so gently, and he feels like a creep for being paralysed by such an unintentional graze of your body against his.

But once the kids have left and you're left standing awkwardly in the entryway, Miguel sighs and pulls himself together, still feeling the musculature of his chest area vibrating with warmth as he shuts the door and walks towards you.

soccer dad!miguel who leads you to the kitchen, offering you a seat at the kitchen counter. Once you've sat down on a stool, Miguel leans against the counter, trying to act suave, wanting to win you over for the sake of the soccer matches, Gabriela, and his love life.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice?" Miguel questions, eyeing the way that your big jacket somehow fails to swallow up and conceal your supple breasts, the rippling, doughy flesh sitting pretty in the cute little shirt you're wearing. The sight makes him lick his lips, his fangs protruding ever so slightly from their spaces inside his mouth, dripping with desire to taste whatever you have to offer.

He's so caught up in the sight of your young, ripe body, that he completely misses your answer to his question.

"Miguel. My coffee?" You prompt with a raised brow, snapping him out of his more than disrespectful trance. Without acknowledging you or what just happened, Miguel swivels on his heels and marches towards the coffee machine, cursing himself and fighting the urge to slap himself upside the head for being so gross. He's just so desperate for some love and affection, especially from a pretty little thing like you, who's good with kids, sassy, likes soccer, and is busty as fuck. It got the better of him.

soccer dad!miguel who knows he's more than likely blown the whole thing for himself now, so from the coffee machine, his broad, defined back still facing you, he makes some rectifying attempts at small talk.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why is it that Tony's parents don't take him to his games? Why you?" Miguel asks, his voice gentle in case it happens to be a touchy subject as the whirring of the machine acts as a subtle background noise to ease the initial tension and awkwardness.

"No, no, it's fine. I don't mind. They both just work a lot and they can't find the time or energy for his activities. So it becomes aunt duty. But he's my brother's kid, so of course it's no problem." You answer, being much better than Miguel at remaining focused on conversation... even while your eyes wander. The way his toned back curves at his small waist, his delts and lats so defined beneath his black shirt, the roundness of his ass, the thick, sculpted muscle of his thighs and long legs. He looks like a Greek God, an annoying, asshole sort of one, but he's fine nonetheless.

soccer dad!miguel who nods along with your words as he hands you your mug full of warm coffee. He rests his elbows against the countertop in front of you, sharp red eyes staring into your soul, trying to learn more about you than he can from just your words, wanting to see, wanting to feel the kind of woman you are, you were, you want to become.

And just like that, the two of you slowly develop a rapport, conversing back and forth, sharing stories about Gabriela and Tony, talking shit about your ex boyfriend and Miguel's ex wife, and obviously exchanging lengthy apologies for some of the awful things you had said to each other at the kids' last game.

Miguel's wide, toothy grin. Your melodic, enthralled giggles. They're things neither of you have shown another person in quite some time. And a mere week ago, the two of you would be appalled at the notion that you'd be getting along so well after almost beating the shit out of each other at an Under 9's soccer game.

soccer dad!miguel who's smile grows even warmer when he hears Gabi and Tony laughing and playing on her Switch in the game room.

This is the sound he misses, back in the early days when he still thought his bitch of an ex wife was a loyal, loving woman.

This is the sound he wants to hear every Saturday morning before taking Gabriela and the baby he'd give you to his eldest's soccer game. He'd set up a sturdy little lawn chair for you on the sidelines, and try not to focus on how beautiful you look holding his little baby in your arms when he's supposed to be watching Gabriela destroy the opposition. All he's ever wanted is to experience a family life that isn't so fucking dysfunctional. Even though you seemed to be the definition of it when the two of you had first met, Miguel knows he can achieve that with you.

"Let's get out of the kitchen, hm? Ven conmigo." Miguel decides once there's a break in the conversation, walking over to your stool and holding out a large, calloused hand to assist you. Part of him thinks he might be overdoing with the whole chivalry thing out of the guilt still haunting him from how he's treated you, but he also thinks it's just enough flattery to win you over in the end.

You roll your eyes and giggle, but gladly take his hand in your own and get up. You can't lie, you sort of hope he takes you for a tour of the bedroom and ends up bending you over the side of his bed and fucking ruining you. But you also just want to get to know this big, mean, lonely single-dad, whose charm is startlingly working on you.

soccer dad!miguel who watches you intently as you stare at an old picture hanging on the wall in the living room of Miguel and his ex wife's wedding day. He looked so young, so happy, and she looked like she was being held at gunpoint. But still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that it wasn't you in that photo, and instead some cheating whore that didn't deserve a beautiful, strong man like Miguel.

"Don't get too caught up in the details. I mean, you've seen firsthand that there's ample reason why I'd get dumped like that." Miguel chuckles, trying to lighten the mood with his self-deprecating joke, but making it worse.

"You're a smartass, sure. But you didn't deserve what happened. And Gabriela definitely didn't, either." You answer softly, your gaze still focused on overanalysing the framed photograph. Miguel frowns at your comment about Gabriela, and it's definitely true.

And the fact that you even care about Gabriela and are aware of her struggles, it makes him fall even harder. It's so typical, obviously anyone would show sympathy for a little girl who's parents have divorced, but something about it coming from you of all people makes Miguel stop thinking right.

soccer dad!miguel who pinches the bridge of his nose harshly after he blurts out a swift "Do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?" like an idiot. He's damn near close to 40 asking a gorgeous, younger woman like you out on a date... he's too desperate for his own good. He should've just minded his own business when Gabi was getting shoved and tackled by Tony those few weeks ago. Instead, he went and dug himself a hole of humiliation. This was a complete waste of time. He shouldn't be so desperate for a woman in his life. He's a god damn man, he's got his daughter and himself to keep him going. This is pathetic, and as if you'd say 'yes' after he called you such vulgar names and damn near attacked your nephew.

So, when your lips part and your gorgeous body stiffens so suddenly, Miguel is almost tripping over himself attempting to apologise, which just makes the warm buzzing in your bones increase at such a strangely adorable sight.

"Relax! I was gonna say yes!" You giggle, reaching out to grasp Miguel's thick, hair-covered forearm, squeezing it reassuringly as you look him in the eyes. He's speechless. For once, the witty douchebag has nothing to say. And he loves that you're able to do that to him.

In that moment, the kids come running into the living room, shouting and laughing about who beat who and how funny the games they were playing were, making you laugh even harder at the frenzied emotions all around you. And Miguel's overjoyed that he gets another chance to make it up to you after what happened.

"Oh. So, um, I'll pick you up at 8?" Miguel stammers, his tan, chiseled, handsome face graced by a bashful, pinkish hue. You nod and smile in response as Gabriela and Tony zip around the two of you as you stare into each other's eyes with an almost sinful longing. Fingers crossed neither of you sassy fucks mess this up for yourselves.

PREV. PART, NEXT PART

tagging people in part 4:

@lauraolar14 @mcmiracles @mimiemie @szal0v3r @jadeloverxd @raginghomo62 @faimmm @princesatracionera @keepitreal001 @rxckstarss @ghost-lantern @rhythmloid @lazyjellyfish300 @shadofireshinobi @t4naiis @laufftuhh @grapejuicenads @xxsugarbonesxx @lounilu @kerwin290710 @straw-berry-ghoul @lizaistewdelulu @questionable-behaviour @daddysfavoritesexkitten @kocho-catt @envyjmoney @6thhokageswife @vivianite-is-dead @improbable-outset @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @monarchberrysblog @0strawberrysorbet0 @mreowmoreww @delectableworm @miguels-aranita @ce3stvu @reader-1290 @queenmimis @keiva1000 @mikyapixie @bunnibitez @marshhbs @vera4luv @soph121212 @leviathxn

[chosocutegf]

O'Hara with a chubby wife? Like dawg i wanna see him appreciate that chubbiness 😫 plus points she's always soft and kind to him which makes him fall even more

I'm so in love

I LOVE CHUBBY READER ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO MIGUEL ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

It makes me think about Miguel fawning over you, looking at you from afar because he can’t help but keep his gaze on your plump curves. I think about him sitting on the sofa, while you’re in the kitchen, cooking or something, and he can’t stay focused on whatever he was looking at the tv.

When you turn around and catch him staring, he doesn’t look away. He is not embarrassed that you saw him gawking at you, because he wants you to know that he is obsessed with you. “Ven aquí, mi amor,” (come here, my love) he calls you, a soft smile when he sees you walking towards him with a raised brow.

When you stand before him, he looks up at you with pure love in his eyes, before resting his hands over your full hips and gently tugging you closer, guiding you between his legs. He rests his head on your soft tummy, and nuzzles his face there, sliding his hands under your shirt and pawning gently at your plump waist. He hums when you thread your fingers through his dark locks and closes his eyes as he relaxes against you. “What are you doing?,” you ask softly, laugh in your voice.

He lets out a soft playful groan, burying his face in your tummy before tugging you impossibly closer, almost making you fall if it wasn’t for you placing your hands over his shoulders. You chuckle softly when he mumbles against your shirt, “nothing, mamí, just appreciating you”.

A gasp leaves your lips when he quickly wraps his arms around your legs and moves you to the couch, pushing you to lay down before laying on top of you. You huff softly at his weight, squirming slightly to adjust yourself under him. Miguel groans against youand buries his face between your full breasts, a little smile on his lips at the plumpness of his new makeshift pillow.

“Comfortable?,” you asks teasingly, glancing down at him before wrapping your arms around his broad back and holding him close. He nods slightly against you, nuzzling even closer, “mucho”. (very much) You let out a soft hum before sliding your hand under his baggy shirt, scratching his skin gently.

You feel his grip tighten around you, squishing you under him as he relaxes even more under your touch. Soon after, you feel his breath getting slower and when you glance down, he is asleep. There is a smile on your lips when you reach for the tv control and switch it off.

can you hear me cry? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

(m.list)