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ultravioletrayz · 3 months ago

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Could we get a Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Where they’re married, and they put the kids to bed for the night, it’s been while since they’ve been able to see each other because of work and they end trying to keep quiet since the kids are next door 😼

i literally daydream about this exact scenario 25/8

Pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

Warnings: 18+, very fluffy 'n soft sex, unprotected p in v, a bit of breeding because we all know where i stand on this, missionary, clit slapping like once

Summary: it's been far too long since miguel has gotten to enjoy his pretty little wifey's company

A/N: slowly but surely making our way through reqs from LAST YEAR 😭😭 so sorry this took so long, noni

Word Count: 1.9k

Miguel has developed a strict routine over the past month or so.

Wake up, shower, eat whatever leftovers the wife set out for him, go to work, come home, say hi to the kids and the wife, eat dinner with everyone, watch TV with the kids, put the kids to bed, sleep. When the events of the day were so unpredictable and chaotic, it had always soothed his overworked brain knowing that the bigger picture was simplistic. It was a life as rewarding and ordinary as he could ask for considering his profession.

But over time, the blaring omission from his schedule came to the forefront of his mind, occupying every fleeting moment of free time he came across.

He hadn't fucked the brains out of his sweet sweet wife in too long.

Miguel's hands are on the verge of trembling as he tucks your youngest child snugly into her bed, plump lips pressing a few quick pecks to her forehead, earning giddy giggles and a big smile.

"Night night, mama and papa!" She laughs, patting Miguel on the head. You laugh as you stand in the doorway, which only serves to make Miguel's heart race as he whispers good night to your daughter. He practically sprints out of the flower-decorated, pink adorned room, switching off the light and shutting the door with an urgency you can see right through.

"Do you have somewhere to be?" You prompt, bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth as you fight the urge to grin at the sight of Miguel's dangerously dilated pupils, the smallest, glassy sliver of crimson barely visible in the dimly lit hallway. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, his loose sweats already starting to tent as his burly digits pull you towards him.

Miguel can't help but laugh to himself, his head craning bashfully as his gaze meets yours, a giddy smirk tugging at his plump lips.

"Uh huh. In between your legs." Miguel mumbles, and you both groan and giggle at the cheesy line. But something about how immature Miguel lets himself become when it's just the two of you in the solace of your home is undeniably sweet. You'd also be lying if you tried to deny the growing wet patch in your little cotton panties as his arched nose nuzzles into your hair to hide his embarrassment.

"Well, what's stopping you?" You muse, letting Miguel slowly nudge his aching bulge against your stomach. To think after the years you've spent together, Miguel still acts like a needy, sexually frustrated teenage boy in your embrace would usually make you laugh and tease... but you're in the same boat after being neglected for weeks on end.

Miguel inhales sharply, not wanting to risk being interrupted by the kids and miss yet another opportunity to make you feel good. He's been teetering on the edge of insanity every time he's caught your lingering glances from the kitchen while you finish up dinner. You've put him through hell every time your wandering feet have "accidentally" rubbed over his crotch while you lay on the couch watching Nickelodeon with the kids before bed. And every single night, when you wander into the bedroom from the walk-in wearing the most ethereal, yet slutty little nightgown just to crash immediately when your head hits the pillows... Miguel has had to stop himself from shaking you awake and stuffing you full of him.

But now, finally, as he lets out a small groan of relief, Miguel scoops you up into his burly arms, making quick work of nudging the bedroom door open and kicking it closed behind him. He lets out a chuckle as you squeal in surprise, your laughter muffled against his chest. He slowly lowers you onto the bed, his hands trailing up your thighs before slipping themselves beneath the layers of fabric shielding your sweet little cunt.

You lift your hips to help Miguel slip your shorts and panties off in tandem. The second your body relaxes back into the mattress, Miguel's fingers dance across your folds, finding you already soaking wet and eager. He groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue darts out to trace your bottom lip, nipping gently before diving his tongue back into your mouth. His hand finds its way between your legs once more, two fingers prodding against your clit and circling around the slick bud tantalisingly slow, dragging out a string of muffled moans from the back of your throat.

The feeling of Miguel's rough fingers against your sensitive skin is driving you wild, but it isn't enough. You grip onto his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more contact, needing more of him. You've missed him so much, you want to be smothered by his weight, his scent, his affection. Him.

"Y'missed me that much, angelita? You poor thing." Miguel laughs against your lips, pulling back slightly to look you in your lust-blown eyes. His hips buck against the empty space in his sweatpants as he soaks in the image of you grinding yourself against the pads of his fingers.

Leaning down to kiss along your jaw and neck, Miguel tugs at his pants with his free hand, letting them tumble to the bedroom floor in a tangled heap. Giving your clit a few open-palmed, dragging spanks just to see you mewl, Miguel folds your knees to your chest, thighs squishing against your tits as he rubs the tip of his fat, throbbing, dribbling cock up and down your swollen folds.

Still kissing and nipping at your skin, Miguel leans down to capture your lips again, swallowing your moans and squeals as he prods his tip at your pussy. With each initially small, shallow thrust, Miguel pushes further and further inside, feeding his cock into you inch-by-inch, making you pull away from his plump lips to gasp for breath. He pants against your neck, a small groan escaping him as he revels in the feeling of your walls struggling to stretch around him. It feels so damn good to be buried to the hilt inside of you, to be filled with the warmth only your syrupy sweet pussy can give him.

Miguel pulls away from you just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze dark and intense as he begins to reel his hips back, your slick clinging in shining ropes to the coarse hairs decorating his pelvis. Each gradually harder thrust drives him deeper, and each moan he gets out of you only fuels his need. The way you grip onto his shoulders and arch your back is enough to make his heart race and his breath hitch in his chest. He's completely lost in the feeling of you, the way your walls clench around him with every push and pull, the way your cunt speaks to him as his tip ruts against your gooey centre.

"That's it. G-God. Love you s'much." Miguel huffs, his eyes shutting to let his body memorise every crevice of your own. His grip on your doughy hips is the only thing keeping you grounded as you try to stay quiet, the kids only a few doors down.

But your attempts are less than feeble.

You bury your face into the crook of Miguel's neck, biting at his shoulder to stifle your moans, determined not to make a sound as Miguel rams against the gummy edge of your poor cervix, filling you up completely. But it only serves to make him whimper loudly as his hips stutter, almost finishing right there and then. You gasp at the intensity of Miguel's movements, your back arching off the mattress as he pounds into you with a fiery urgency. Every sharp breath he takes only serves to make your brain foggy as you drag your nails across his back, leaving a trail of stinging red lines in your wake and earning a hearty moan from his lips.

Miguel pants heavily, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his composure. His eyes are closed tightly, and he can feel the sweat beading on his forehead. He leans down, his breath hot against your neck. He can't hold out much longer, his hips snapping back and forth with a ferocity that has you crying out. The way you cling to him, your body jerking and twitching in perfect sync with his deep thrusts, sends a jolt of electricity straight through him.

"You're so good to me, hermosa. Gonna give you everything you want." Miguel whispers, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on your cheek as his hands slide beneath your hips to squeeze your ass, pulling you up towards him with a groan. His cock throbs and jerks inside of you, his balls slapping against your clit in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. It's making you crave his entire being.

"I want... want another baby. Please give me another baby." You manage to squeak out, your words making Miguel's heart swell with love and pride. He nods vigorously, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Pulling away with a gasp, Miguel can feel the coil in his body twisting to a point of carnal need. A need to fuck another gorgeous child into you.

"Of- Of course, mami. As many as you want." Miguel pants, his hand snaking down to your soft stomach, rubbing loving circles into your skin with his thumb as he cranes his head to focus on the faint bulge coming and going from beneath your glistening flesh, a tribute to the way your perfect body has been moulded for his dick and his alone.

Miguel's hips snap forward again, his thick cock burying itself deep inside you with a loud groan of pleasure. Your walls clench around him, milking his shaft as he pulls almost completely out before slamming back in again, his pace increasing with each passing moment. He grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he loses himself to the love and heat surging from you and filling the bedroom. His breathing grows ragged, his body trembling as he feels that familiar tingle building within him, the pleasure coursing through him becoming unbearable. He pushes himself as deep as he can go, his cock throbbing against your cervix as you whimper into his shoulder. His fingers dig into your soft skin, leaving marks that he'll have to make up for later.

With a guttural groan, Miguel lets himself succumb to your warmth, hips snapping forward with enough force to make you gasp and your body jolt upwards, your walls clenching around him tightly. His body tenses, and he comes undone with hot, sticky spurts that coat your insides, filling you with every ounce of his love for you as he whimpers your name against the shell of your ear. His cum mixes with your own juices as he pulls out, your walls squeezing and milking him one last time before letting him go.

Spent and breathless, Miguel collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he nuzzles his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around him tightly, pulling him close as you both catch your breath.

"That... that was worth the wait." You murmur with a slight giggle, already feeling the pull of sleep tugging at your eyes.

Miguel hums in quiet acknowledgement, tilting his head to press a meek kiss against the underside of your chin as his body shudders with the aftershocks of his long awaited release.

"The next few months of waiting will be even better, mi esposa."

PLAP PLAP PLAP GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT PLAP PLAP

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mamasfavourite · 7 months ago

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Hi your axel fic was really good! I was wondering if you could write a fic about kwon and a Miyagi-Do reader.Enemies to lovers lots of tension.

thank you so much and thank you aswell for requesting, i had sm fun with writing this!! i hope you enjoy :)

locker room

pairing: kwon jae-sung x reader

summary: kwon and y/n hated eachother, because of a little incident on the first day.. and because of the karate thing. but kwon can’t help but flirt around a little bit.

warnings: stupid rivalry, enemies to lovers!, kissing, making out, kwon is sassy, flirting, swearing,

you were so excited to be on the miyagi-do team for the sekai takai! you weren’t captain, but you didn’t mind at all because you had your best friend, sam, there with you and you knew your capabilities under pressure.

it was practically your natural state at this point :)

you and sam decided to share a room in barcelona. which was probably for the better, considering neither of you wanted to share with the boys, except for maybe sam and miguel.

after an insanely long flight, you arrived at the hotel and immediately dropped your backpack to your bed and felt each tired muscle in your back start to decompress.

you went to shower, wanting to rinse off the dirt from travelling. after washing your hair and body, you stepped out and dried yourself off. you brushed through your knotted, wet hair and put on some baggy shorts and an off-shoulder tshirt.

it was around 5:30pm, which meant it was around 8am back home, most of your team wouldn’t even be awake yet. you went back into the main area of the room and saw sam laying on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

“i’m gonna go down to the buffet and see if i can grab something to eat, do you want anything?” you asked her and she wearily looked up from her phone and replied with a “no, thanks!”

you smiled and acknowledged her response before you put on some sneakers and grabbed your phone and room key from on top the dresser, and headed out. you made your way to the elevator and managed to find the open buffet nearby the reception.

the buffet was relatively empty, which wasn’t surprising due to the lack of people who typically had an appetite at 5:30pm. there was one or two people in the corner, eating something you couldn’t quite make out, and someone else on the right hand side of the room.

you grabbed two pieces of a brown bread at the back of the serving tray. once you did, you grabbed a selection of butter, avocado and some smoked salmon, putting it beside the bread on your plate. yum!

you grabbed some tissues, and a knife and fork and began to walk back towards the elevator. the elevator was empty, so your ride was quite peaceful. you held the plate with both hands, the knife and fork, and napkin were balanced in your right hand.

you were so focused on holding onto your plate and keeping it steady, that as soon as you heard the elevator doors open with a ding!, you stepped out and immediately collided with a tall figure infront of you.

you watched in horror as the slimier foods slid down the person’s body and your plate landed on the carpet with a soft thump. you tilted your head upwards to look at their reaction before you frantically apologised.

of course, he was fucking gorgeous. the first enemy you make for yourself in barcelona was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. he glared down at you which such anger. “what the fuck?” he said, with a thick, korean accent.

damn even his voice was hot!

as you came back up again you began to apologise. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to spill that on you, i can help you clean it or-“ you paused your rambling as you watched the guy continue to glare at you angrily through your speech.

his gaze was filled with nothing but fury. “don’t let it fucking happen again.” he bumped your shoulder as he walked past you, to the elevator. you knelt back down to the floor to clean up as much as you could, before you just went back to your room.

you saw him again the next day. the sekai takai had organised a field trip to the barcelona aquarium. there was a lot of different people there, but only one really stood out to you, and that was kwon.

well, clearly he stood out, i mean he was yelling at everyone, challenging all of the dojo captains to a kicking contest, and of course, robby couldn’t just step aside for once.

you were peacefully drinking your water, as the boys spoke, and it was safe to say you had zoned out completely. that was until you heard what they were betting. you coughed and spluttered, putting your water bottle into sam’s hands and struggling to speak for a second.

“sorry what?” you asked, with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. kwon’s head turns to you with his signature smirk, one you only noticed now, as before he had only thrown scowls your way.

“i said..” he paused and took one step closer to you. “if he wins, he gets my room, if i win, i get yours.” he delivered with a wink. you felt your cheeks heat up, confused as to why this was because you were enraged.

“what, how is that fair, i’m not even playing?” you answered, angry that your room was being gambled away without your consent. your weight shifted from one foot to the other.

“oh relax, sweetheart, i wouldn’t kick you out or anything.” he flirted with you once more before he turned his body back to robby and held out his hand

“deal.” robby answered, and they shook on it. you gasped, and pushed robby in the chest. but at the same time, you were confused because why would this hot guy from the elevator, who DESPISES you, want the key to your room?

despite his skills, robby somehow lost the competition and you find yourself face to face with kwon. “hand over the room key, princess.” you wanted nothing more than to wipe the stupid smirk off his face and tell him to leave you alone. your response was only a little bit nicer than that. “no.” you replied, your gaze shifting around the room, as you felt scared to look him in the eyes.

“if you’re gonna try to reject me, at least look in my eyes when you do it.” he spoke, his voice low and commanding. something about it made you wanna listen, and so you did.

you stared into his dark eyes and repeated yourself. “i don’t want to give you my room key.” he chuckled to himself, under his breath. you maintained eye contact, not wanting to pull away.

he rolled his eyes at your attitude. “okay, well i’m gonna talk to your captain over there, and sort this out because a deal is a deal.” he replied and started walking over to robby.

they argued back and forth for a while but in the end, you didn’t have to sleep in a room with kwon. much to his dismay, robby gave up him and miguel’s room and had to share with the other boys.

your next interaction happened on the day of the final. cobra kai had narrowly escaped elimination and were going to fight in the last round. the matches were 30 minutes from starting and you had only then realised that you wouldn’t have another opportunity to go back inside the locker rooms and you left your water bottle there.

you ran over to the shared locker rooms, one you coincidentally shared with cobra kai, as soon as you arrived, you found yourself stopped in the doorway watching as the very guy you had secretly hoped to see was there, packing up some of his gear.

the large metal door was propped open by a small wooden doorstop, a detail that you had missed in the midst of your staring. you took a step forward and knocked over the doorstop. you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.

kwon turned around at this and let out a small laugh at your misfortune, but he shut up as soon as he realised the door was shut and could not be opened from the inside.

“do you have any idea what you just did.” he practically growled at you. he was absolutely enraged, but he didn’t seem as angry as he had been during the elevator incident. you apologised but he still seemed quite angry.

you sat down against the wall, and he sat on a bench across from you. there was quite a loud silence between you, except for the quiet whirring of the fan above you. you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of kwon. he bothered you, and confused you and made you feel things and ugh.

you hated him, but most of all you hated his karate. wait.. maybe you could start a conversation about that! “what got you into cobra kai?” you asked him.

you looked up at him and he met your gaze. he swallowed, and left the silence there for a moment as he thought of what to say.

“well, i was in a dojang before, do you know what that is?” he replied and you nodded along, your interest piqued.

“so my kwanjang was incredibly conservative. she knew one style of teaching and disciplined anyone who didn’t feel comfortable with it. it was rough, it was such a fucked up environment, but then sensei kreese came and she never relaxed but he helped me seize my power, and i haven’t really looked back since then.”

he spoke with conviction and you were surprised by his sincerity. you thought for a moment, never taking your eyes off his and replied. “i get that.”

a beat passed. “but cobra kai is angry, it’s viscous, and there’s no ethics to it. no mercy is not how the real world works.”

he swallowed and nodded, accepting the weight of your words, and you were impressed that he was so considerate of you. he matched your behaviour, taking his time to think of what to say before he replied.

“well, look. at the end of the day, i have to look out for myself. i know who i am and no dojo can change it.”

you accepted his answer, truth be told, you fully agreed. and your impression of him completely shifted. you shivered slightly, the room had turned quite cold. kwon noticed and you watched as he removed the cobra kai hoodie he wore over his gi.

he offered it to you which you gladly accepted, and flushed a little. he scooted across the floor to hand it over to you.

he was really close and he brushed his fingers over your wrist as he handed it to you. you put it on, and he felt something inside him flutter as he saw you in his clothes.

you glanced at him and he was so close you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. you couldn’t feel your fingers or the emptiness of the room because all you paid attention to was his gaze, that was still never left you.

his expression turned vulnerable as he put a hand to your cheek. “please don’t hit me for this…” he whispered, as he leaned in close to you and kissed you.

his lips were soft and you couldn’t help but wrap your fingers around his collar to pull him closer to you. you kissed him with passion and at some point, you pulled back, out of breath.

he seemed even more vulnerable for a moment, thinking he was just rejected. “do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his voice laced with a worry that you found difficult to detect.

you panted for a second, your hands never leaving his collar and your eyes never leaving his. “just the opposite, please.” you mumbled breathily against his lips as you pulled him back in, reconnecting your lips.

#kwon jae sung #kwon jae-sung #kwon jae sung x reader #kwon jae-sung x reader #cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #kwon x reader #fan fiction

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itsmarsss · 1 year ago

Text

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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fangswbenefits · 2 years ago

Text

Side Effect

Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).

You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.

A proper one.

If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.

This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.

“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.

The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.

That was weird.

“What?”

Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.

That was really weird.

You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.

This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.

Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.

But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.

“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.

You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”

“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”

“That’s classified.”

“Classified?”

She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”

“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.

Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.

He was avoiding you in particular.

“Can you just open the door?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”

“I really need to talk to him.”

Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”

That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.

“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”

The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”

You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.

She winked. “Gotcha!”

The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.

You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.

A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.

Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.

A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.

“What the fuck?”

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.

Something wasn’t right.

Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.

“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.

“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.

His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”

As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.

“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”

“Got it, Miguel!”

The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?

“Miguel… what…”

He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>

What was he doing?

“Leave.”

“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“

Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.

The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I need you gone. Now.”

Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?

He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.

“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”

Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.

“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”

“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”

Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”

His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”

“What…”

He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?

His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.

“Miguel… what is going on?”

You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.

“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”

Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?

This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”

Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.

“I’m rutting.”

Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.

He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”

Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.

You glanced over at the nearby screen:

Oh.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”

“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”

You bit your lip.

He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”

This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.

His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.

“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”

He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”

You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.

“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”

The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”

His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.

“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”

For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.

Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.

That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.

Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”

His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”

Your eyes widened.

He wasn’t being serious…

… was he?

“Miguel…”

The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.

You had helped him develop it.

Its efficacy neared 90%.

You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.

And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.

Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.

You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.

In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”

You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.

How was this so arousing?

“What words?”

He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.

“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”

“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”

Oh… fuck.

He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”

Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.

“Tell me I can do this.”

His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.

“No. Say it.”

He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.

“Go ahead.”

“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.

At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.

You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”

A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.

He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.

“Turn around.”

You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.

More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.

You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”

Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.

The pressure increased. “More.”

Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.

His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.

“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.

Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.

The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m sorry.”

Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.

He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.

Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.

“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”

Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.

He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.

Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.

You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.

Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.

“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.

That genetic material deserved to be spread.

“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.

An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.

“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.

The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.

“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.

Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.

“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.

You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.

Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.

Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.

He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.

You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.

So much cum.

He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.

Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.

An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.

He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.

“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.

“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

You glanced to the screen nearby.

“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?

He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”

Oh, you were utterly fucked.

In every sense of the word.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099

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scoobysnakz · 1 year ago

Text

loser miguel who, at first, feels so much shame he could be sick, but when your breath shortens at the sight of his reddened eyes, that guilt is replaced with a stronger, more persistent hunger.

loser miguel who can’t get his hands off his cock; you look too pretty to stop now. your wide, shocked eyes glued to him, flickering between the desperate expression on his face and his calloused hands encasing his girthy length. that look of pure shock only serves to make him more ravenous, more crazed, more infatuated with you.

loser miguel who watches, mesmerized as you walk over to him, your shiny eyes drinking in the sight of his leaky cock. he can practically smell your desire, and god, it’s making him insane.

“por favor, te necesito,” he whines, head lolling to the side.

“migs… is that my lab coat?” part of you can’t bare to hear the answer but that other, sick and twisted part that craves validation, is desperate to hear him answer yes in that panty wetting accent.

“can’t stop.” his voice is harsher now, not mean but it carries a certain huskiness that makes your mind fuzzy. “fuck, need your pretty lips, mami.”

loser miguel whose heart nearly stops as you sink down onto your knees, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and hands clenched into fists. you can’t bring yourself to look at it, it has an almost godly presence, which you know is stupid, but it’s part of him, part of miguel.

he keeps stroking his cock, you on your knees beneath only serving to make him harder and more needy. his core aches with longing, a silent declaration of desire in his eyes as he fights the urge to buck his hips into your face.

loser miguel who gets an automatic ego boost at the way you stare at his cock. miguel isn’t a lazy man, far from it, but that isn’t to say he shaves. almost every inch of this man is covered in thick hair that resembles the same darkness as the chocolatey mop on his head. and he can see the way it goes straight to your cunt.

a few times, you’ve been blessed with the view of his happy trail on the odd occasion he’s stretched with only a t-shirt on. but never have you seen past the bulky thighs which are infamously known all throughout the crinkled pages of your diary, that you’ve had countless dreams of being trapped between, and fuck, do you feel like you’ve missed out.

his cock is huge, at least eight inches, with balls that hang heavy, twitching to release their load into your pretty little mouth.

loser miguel who has to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a loud moan as you press your soft lips to his rosy tip, his precum leaving your lips looking temptingly glossy.

you drag your tongue across your lips, savouring the tangy taste as it melts on your tastebuds. you, carefully, lower your mouth around his shaft, forcing your jaw to go slack as a feeble attempt to accommodate his size.

the feeling of your tongue, flat against the underside of his cock, sends his mind racing. this is what he’s been dreaming of, craving, for months. you are so perfect, so pretty and perky, how could he not have an insatiable need for you ?

the only light in the entire lab is the late afternoon sun leaking through the gaps in the blinds, leaving it dimly lit with the sun rays shining on miguel’s tanned complexion.

thick strands of his dark hair frame his perfectly chiseled face in an almost angelic halo. his soft, plump lips are parted ever so slightly, so that you can get a spine chilling view of his fangs.

loser miguel who’s never felt anything like this before. try as you might, you can’t fit his entire length in your mouth, and somehow, this is the closest to heaven he’s ever been.

he can’t count the amount of times he’s pumped his cock to the idea of this, you, one your knees pleasing him so prettily.

“mierda, just like that, just like that,” he croons, one hand sliding down to grip the back of our head.

you shine under his approval, the burn in your jaw suddenly disappearing as you push your mouth further down his cock, your nose is buried into the thick tufts of hair on the base of his cock.

you’re gagging and drooling all over him but right now you can only focus on miguel’s raspy breathing and muttered praise.

loser miguel who can only stand there watch as his cock falls victim to the talents of your mouth, his hips stuttering in a pathetic attempt to hold off from fucking your throat. miguel wants to make this last, have you looking up at him through adoring eyes forever- if he could take a picture he would.

prev < > next

a/n: smut clearly isn’t my forte but i tried 🙃

tag list: @lacedinweb22 @xxyaoi-nationxx @farrowroyale @mynamesstevenwithav @m4dyy @pinkismylife @kenz-ee @queerponcho @mcmiracles @nic-stars @ella-unenchanted04 @basedpear @rhythmloid @safixiovi @braverthanthenewworld @sad-author-san

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cheonstapes · 1 year ago

Text

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o｀；

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨

cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷

you loved your job, you really did.

not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.

at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.

mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.

summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.

one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.

the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.

you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.

“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”

“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”

oh…yeah.

in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.

“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”

“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”

“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”

miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”

you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.

“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

I’m throwing an event at work tonight, I want you to be there.

sent 16:42

(y.n)

hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. I’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and I’ve got you something nice to wear.

sent 16:50

(y.n)

oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

Mmhm, I can’t wait to see you, babe. And call me miguel.

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’

it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.

arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.

“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.

“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.

god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.

a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.

on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.

putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.

smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?

there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.

something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.

“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”

“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”

“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.

“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”

he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”

it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.

you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.

as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —

“leaving already?”

“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”

for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.

“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“

“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”

that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”

lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”

“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”

“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”

“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.

“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.

“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’

“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.

“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.

“fucking christ…”

the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.

the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.

it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.

“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”

of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.

“here.”

now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.

he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.

miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.

“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”

whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.

“nngh..fuck..”

he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.

he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”

you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”

he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”

he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.

“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”

those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!

he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”

“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”

“no promises.”

this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.

- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!

#cheonstapes #cheonstapes films!🪷#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #astv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara smut #miguel fanfic

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nymphomatique · 2 years ago

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reader asking forcing. loser!miguel to tell her his desired fantasy and since she’s feeling a bit nice that day she decides she’ll indulge it for him <3 (i feel like he’d so be into roleplay hehe ><)

nonnie ur brain.. hold on.

cw: fem/dom reader, sub!miguel <3, slight mentions of shoe play, talks of punishment and like SLIGHT exhibitionism, miguel being a simp bit what’s new, a kiss 🤭, on da sweeter side, and as per usual: definitely not proof read lol enjoy 💋

a/n: i went tame for this but suggest what role play ideas u have bc miguel is DEFINITELY into that. like imagine him acting as readers maid.. in the maid outfit.. omfg.

“miguel?”

“ah! y-yes?” he answers between a moan. you’re currently sitting on your bed, miguel sitting upright facing you on your floor as you trail your heeled foot up his crotch.

“tell me something,” you start, cocking your head sideways and leaning forward to look at him a little closer. as you lean forwards your breasts spill over the the corset top you have on. you begin to use more friction with your foot, and his moans become more feverish. “what’s your fantasy? entertain me, i’m in a good mood tonight.”

and a good mood it was, you stumbled into your dorm at around 2 in the morning, miguel waiting patiently for you outside your door, kneeling in the empty hall just like you asked, when you texted him rather drunkenly from the club that you wanted to play with him.

miguel’s face flushes, his chocolate brown eyes hiding behind his glasses. “i- ah.. f-fuck. i don’t know..” he trails off, bucking lightly into your red bottom.

“you have one more time to lie to me before this turns into a ball busting session, dweeb,” you spit, halting your teasing and looking at him intensely. you can visually see him fold under your stare. “w-well..”

“go on,” you encourage, slowly starting your teasing with your heel back up.

“i’ve always wanted to- ah! to take someone on a dinner, all fancy. a-and in the middle of the restaurant, she starts to..” he halts, his lips tightening and his face going red.

“i said go on, miguel,” you say nonchalantly, but your heel applying pressure to miguel’s crotch. he lets out a sharp shudder and a string of curses under his breath, and then resumes.

“what we’re doing now.. tease me all dinner, and th-then punish me in the restroom for getting excited..” he sighs out, the pain and shame sending waves of pleasure to his pulsating clothed cock.

“yeah? punish you how? tell your mistress what you want,” he looks at you and moans, your foot increasing its speed and pressure.

“you- you’d make me beg to cum. i- i’d beg you to- fuck. to let me touch you. let me ache to please you, to serve you mistress,” he spill out from his lips, his eyes heavy and breathing shallow from your pleasuring.

“you really are pathetic miguel,” you laugh out. you stop teasing him and stand up, watching him look up at you from his place on the floor. you slowly saunter over to him and step each foot on either side of his legs, lowering yourself down until you’re sat on his lap, directly over his erection. you grab his hair and pull his head back, hovering your lips over his own. “but you know what?” you whisper, looking at his red face and tousled hair. “i like it.”

you go in for a kiss, your lipstick transferring to miguel’s perfectly shaped lips as you kiss him sensually. you pull apart from the kiss and look at him once more, him sitting there utterly dazed and confused, this being your first kiss. you get up and walk to sit back on your bed, looking straight at him, a small wet patch staining his pants. “get out of my room.”

he doesn’t hear from you until the following evening, a text message from you reading:

philemon at 8pm sharp. take a fucking shower and wear something other than hand me downs tonight.

#miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #sub miguel o'hara #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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Denji blushes when you hold his cock hand

☆༉ — DENJI. pretty boy.

about. let’s pretend this ask isn’t years old but yeah actually he does omg :( !! started writing this ages ago but finished for @miguelism mwah <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. characters aged up to 20s, smut, nsfw, handjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, college!au, gn!reader, roommate!denji.

“denji…”

“uhuh— i mean, uh, yeah?”

“has anyone told you, you’ve got such a pretty cock?”

you feel the entirety of denji’s length twitch within your hold— his head full of sunshine blonde hair falling back on the wall you’ve caged him against. your fingers are soft, pillowy around his thick shaft and your thumb presses to his leaky slit curiously, watching his face for a reaction. “y-you’d be the first…ah—fuck!” denji whimpers, golden brown eyes falling away from the world as you give your wrist an experimental flick, testing the waters on what you can do to him. “that’s nice…that’s real nice.”

you giggle, his precum oozing into the seat of your palm the more you start to jerk him off in the right space of aki’s bathroom. “yeah? i want you to feel good, denji.” you doubt that your roommates would want to be woken up by slick sounds and whiny whistle tone moans, so you step forward and reach out into the dark— pressing your lips against your boyfriend’s in a slow, syrupy kiss.

it’s adorable how he chases the warmth of your mouth, like a moth drawn to a candle flame, when you pull away to check the door only briefly. “come back, baby…please,” he pleads while he feverishly fucks your hand as if he’ll never get the chance to do so again. “feels good when you’re close…when you kiss me ‘n you use…shit, y-your t-tongue on me!” pleading turns to soggy, pathetic whimpers that are muffled by your tongue as you push your way back into denji’s mouth to shut him up.

you make denji feel like he’s going fucking insane, desire ripping through is chest, lewd squelching noises from his cock bleeding arousal all over your hand overlaying his soundtrack of moans and tongue lapping over tongues. opaque white slings around your knuckles as it drips from his creamy tip, only serving to guide your fist up and down his throbbing a little easier — as if it were a makeshift flesh light.

he really is so cute like this — pliant and needy underneath you, his body seizing up at your sensual ministrations and his skin shiny with sweat under the moonlight. the chainsaw devil can’t help but hiccup loudly despite how you pacify him with sweet, loving smooches. tears slip down the apples of his cheeks and track salt along your tongue too where they land at the corner of denji’s mouth. “you look so pretty with your cock in my hand,” praise for denji comes easily to you — he deserves to be cherished, to know that he’s good and loved. squeezing the base of his length, you push your thumb through his seedy slit just to see him cry, circling his bright red and mushroomed cockhead in order to lube him up more.

a pink flush blossoms across the expanse of his milky skin with every pump of his dick and his his head falls back against the wall with a dull thud. you lick your lips at the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing and his body shuddering, revealing to the naked eye just how desperate denji truly is.

“do you think you could cum for me, denji?”

the stutter in his hips tells you the answer, but you want a verbal one anyways — so for a moment, you stop palming his dripping wet cock and wait for his response.

“well?”

“please, i can do it,” he pants, eager to please — his honey brown eyes crazed and delirious. “j-just call me pretty again. ‘nd i promise i’ll—“

even with his back pressed right up against the wall and his shoulders quivering in anticipation of his impending high — denji still towers over you. so you stand on your tippy toes, languidly flicking your wrist to get him off, in order to whisper your command into the shell of his ear. “make a mess for me, pretty boy.” you simper, mouth falling open to mock his moans like you’re right on the edge with him.

denji cums with a shout and his release spills into your spoiled palm like a stream of molten igneous rock, painting your knuckles a gooey white. you have to cover his mouth with your remaining hand, muffling any sounds that escape him since his brain quite literally short circuits, reducing the poor blonde to nothing but tears and brainless babbles.

you do your best to keep him quiet while he twitches through the aftershocks — after all, it would be a shame if some else got to see your pretty boy blushing with his cock out.

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vexwerewolf · 10 months ago

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If I could ask you for some advice, what do you think helps the flavour text of a mech or piece of equipment sell a player on the fantasy of using it?

I'm finding it frustratingly difficult to do so with my own homebrew content: I can come up with lore and backstory easily enough, but re-reading it feels dry, and I can't help but contrast it with how the descrptions in official content and other supplements is more evocative, at least for mechs.

Let's observe some corebook Lancer flavour text and examine the various varieties it comes in.

Purely Functional

While it's usually not the most fun type of flavour text, this just tells us what the weapon is, and - if it has any particular tags or on-hit effects - why it's like that. The Hand Cannon is a good example: here's what it is (modified pistol), here's why it does more damage, and here's why it has Loading.

The main advantage of Purely Functional flavour text is that it provides space for other types of flavour text to breathe. Flavour text is a great place for jokes, but it's not good for every piece of flavour text to be a joke - the pauses between notes in music are just as important as the notes.

Obfuscating Vendorspeak

The Bristlecrown Flechette Launcher this is a great example of dark humour that Lancer uses quite often: marketing fast-talk to cover up something really unpleasant. The joke here is based on us understanding precisely what the equipment does mechanically, and then seeing how the manufacturer tries to sell it. There's a bunch of dense technobabble here meant to obfuscate the fact that this weapon fires knives in every direction specifically designed to kill infantry.

Deadpan Weirdness

The joke here relies on describing something extremely weird like it's the most natural thing in the world. Wait, you're telling me that in a world where I can just print new parts if the old ones break, they put DRM on my fucking knife and I have to apologise to the fucking knife maker to get a new one? What the fuck, dude? Why are you acting like this makes any sense?!

My sword uploads fucking what to the Space Internet?!

Third-Act Twist

This type of flavour text disguises itself as something else - most often Purely Functional - and then hits you with Third Act Twist. It makes you go "wait, what?!" It's very classic setup-punchline stuff. You're telling me my mech can rot?!

As a side note, Lancer loves to use this for its NHPs.

WHY DID YOU PUT THAT IN SCARE QUOTES, LUCIFER

Worldbuilding

This is similar to the Purely Functional, but instead of just describing technical specifications of the weapons, it puts the weapon in the broader context of the setting's history. Okay, so we know what this weapon is and what it does - why was it built? What was the original use case, and why? Most importantly, what can the existence of this weapon tell us about the world that build it?

Whimsical Aside

This is the insertion of a light-hearted, humanising little insertion regarding how this piece of equipment gets used in the field. This serves to remind us that soldiers aren't cold, unfeeling killing machines: they can be as emotional, irreverent and silly as the rest of us, and they do things like name their mobile bombs...

... or call resupply drones "mech snacks."

The Ominous Out-Of-Context Quote That Explains Nothing And Only Raises More Questions

As I've said in multiple textmash memes, this is basically Tom and Miguel's shorthand for "this technology is Intensely Fucked Up in a way that it is more fun and scary not to explain." This is essentially Lancer's version of SCP's [REDACTED].

You might think this is the domain of HORUS, and you'd be right, but every single manufacturer indulges in these - although IPS-N had to wait until NRFaW to get theirs:

What the fuck do you mean by that, Lancer?

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #vex asks

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 2 years ago

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Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue

Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.

Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.

Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:

___________________________________________________

Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.

Starting with his first line in the scene:

"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."

All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.

"Bit much, innit?"

While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.

"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."

'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.

"Super humane, and not creepy."

One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.

Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.

Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.

And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________

H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"

Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.

"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"

HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'

M: And what's that?

"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."

One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'

The next line is:

H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.

Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.

Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.

Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.

"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"

This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.

M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...

[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]

"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."

As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.

Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.

His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.

"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"

I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.

M: Then why are you here?

"Looking out for my drummer, is all."

As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.

M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.

"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."

I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!

With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.

We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.

And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says

"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."

All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk

Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.

But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.

The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'

The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.

Then, this happens

From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.

Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.

"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."

GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY

This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.

Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.

Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.

IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.

if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye

#ill repost the ending as its own post as well yay #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miles morales #gwen stacy #jessica drew #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv analysis #across the spiderverse #spidergwen #spiderwoman #peter parker #peter b parker

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politemenacephd · 1 year ago

Text

Rainy morning (18+)

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Contents: Sleepy sex, overstimulation, Squirting/multiple orgasms, PinV sex, Spooning position, fluffy talking.

Word count: 1370

‘Mm- can I just, fuck—just a bit more, please—’

You squirmed as Miguel squished his fingers a little deeper inside you, gently circling them to get a perfect feel of your tight insides.

It was cold outside, the kind of cold that sent goosebumps up your arms the moment you lifted the sheets. The rain didn’t help either. It was cascading down in buckets, thick enough to blot out the morning sun, and your bedroom had been left in a soft, shadowy haze. The distant window was misty beneath the half-closed blinds, and the heavy patter of raindrops was the only sound.

Or, at least, it was the only sound, but now it was serving just to muffle the soft wet slap of skin from the neighbours.

It was the perfect morning to stay in and keep warm, Miguel had sleepily whispered when you'd offered to get coffee, the perfect morning to pamper his favourite person.

He’d already coaxed you to cum on his hand at least three times, but he clearly didn’t think you were warm enough.

You were trembling slightly as he fucked you with his hand. You were overstimulated to the max and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, riding out the ache for that undeniable pleasure.

His fingers were huge, calloused and hard from constantly climbing and grappling. You could feel every scar, every ridge on his skin as he stroked the soft folds of your cunt from inside. They were delicious, and besides, you were too lazy to get up.

‘Fff- mm, fuck, that’s it’ you whimpered. He pumped them a few times just to see you sleepily mewl and wriggle on his hand.

‘So pretty’ he murmured to himself.

You’d stayed in the same spooning position you’d fallen asleep in, with one thigh slightly raised for easy entrance and his body at your back.

He looked obscenely lazy, naked in bed with his head in his hand, his red eyes roaming over your face as he moved his hands beneath the sheets.

He was all focused on you, but you could feel his erection on your lower back. He’d been eager to play with his precious pussy but wouldn’t let you touch him yet, and so he’d been throbbing against your spine for nearly half an hour now, utterly coating your skin in his pre-cum.

It was slippery and warm, and every so often you did feel him snap and start gently rubbing himself out against you.

‘So pretty. It’s so cute when you move like that’ he whispered.

‘Move like- mm- like, what?’ you panted.

You saw his eyes narrow over your shoulder. With a soft chuckle he angled his hand, perfectly nestling his fingers up against the ribbing of flesh that indicated he’d found your g-spot. He stroked it, lightly, and relished the way your hips jolted and bucked.

‘MM- Fuck, oh god, fuck—be, gentle, please’ you sleepily whined. He pressed an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

‘Okay, okay. Sorry. Just, one more orgasm and then I’ll fuck you, mm?’

He withdrew his fingers with a wet little pop. He kissed them first before slipping them back down to your clit, and after just a few stimulating circles on that swollen and overstimulated nub you orgasmed for him again.

‘Sigue así, mi amor, por Dios’ he breathed. Even he was surprised at how easily he’d tipped you.

His whispered praise barely reached you as those sweet pulsing ripples ripped through your clit to your core and beyond. It was pure heaven, but the moment it was over you collapsed. You were utterly exhausted.

Your breath was warm on your face as it hit the satin pillowcase. You were too tired to even shift your head.

As Miguel slipped his fingers out, he took the chance to indulge. He held up his hand and admired the strings of click on his fingers from where you’d cum. They were thick and long, perfect little pearly strings that clung to his fingers as he spread them, daintily glimmering in the dim streelight that filtered in. He greedily licked his index finger before squeezing the fat of your thigh with his used hand.

‘Mi amor?’

His soft words earned just a sleepy grunt from you.

‘Not asleep already, are you?’ he teased. His breath hit the little hairs on your nape, forcing you to shudder. That was proof enough for him that you were awake.

‘I think my baby’s ready’ he purred. ‘Would my pretty little thing like me to fuck them now?’

You let out another grunt, gently grinding your rear against his erect cock. He couldn’t help but groan at how wet you were, as his bulbous member slid easily between your cheeks and down into your thighs from the copious slick.

‘Mm—mm, you sure? You’re not too sore?’ he whispered.

‘Mm… please, please just fuck me, Miggy.' Your words were a little slurred, as you’d drooled all over the pillowcase, but Miguel heard them just fine.

He gave you one eager kiss on the shoulder before mounting.

With Miguel spooning you from behind he was half crushing your little body beneath him. The warmth and the weight was a comfort, as was his heartbeat thudding hard against your head, and in that sweet embrace you began to lull.

But then he entered you.

That cosy relaxation was disrupted by the familiar pinch of his cock as it impaled you. He was being as gentle as he could, just barely rocking back and forth inch by inch as he spread you wide, but it was still a tight squeeze. You felt his member circling the thick, velvet ring of your opening before stretching it out and pushing inside, and with one final wet slip he pushed right up to your guts.

You let out a small squeak, prompting him to sleepily nestle your cheek.

‘Shh, you’re all good. Well done. You did so good, mi corazón, now just relax. Just relax.'

You slowly settled back down as he gave a few test pumps, gently easing you out so that he fit more comfortably. You could feel his hefty pecs snuggly fitted around your head, and his abs had been stuck hard to your back from the pre-cum still smeared there.

You felt his biceps tense as he shifted his weight, his enormous, toned thighs easily wrapping around your own to pin them in place. You were soon tangled up in his limbs beneath the sheets.

Fuck, it was so wet.

You could feel yourself drifting off as he started to pump. That rhythmic rocking was perfect for lulling you back into blissful relaxation, as was the warmth and the pressure of his body. You felt your head sinking into the pillows as he fucked you slowly.

‘You feel, heavenly’ Miguel murmured to himself.

He nestled his head into your neck and yawned mid moan, his full lips lazily tracing from your collarbone to your jaw. You tilted your head to gentle bump his forehead.

‘Ah—fuck, that’s it. That’s it.’

Your joint pants merged as you nestled in together. You could feel each other’s breath, each other’s bodies moving in a messy synchronicity, as each pulse from his cock prompted a fluttery throb from your cunt.

‘You okay, mi amor?’

‘Mhm.’

At this point your eyes were closed, and you were savouring that sweet space between wakefulness and dreams. You were lost in a point where all you knew, all you would ever know, was the sweet sensation of him filling you. All you could hear was that wet thwap, that light smacking, and all you could feel was his girth sliding in and out of your thighs.

‘Mmm.’

His lips on your temple forced you to blink yourself awake.

‘No, mi amor, up you get’ he tenderly whispered. ‘I’m not done yet.’

He angled himself then to slide right up against your sweet spot. He moved his firm hands to lift your thighs, helping him reach your g-spot, and with just half of his shaft inside he started to lazily thrust back and forth. He was moving barely an inch each time and it was unbearable.

Soon you were just awake enough to start moaning again.

‘Oh—f-fuck, fuck that’s it, oh—Miggy, MM—’

‘There you go, that’s better. Gotta wake my sleepy baby up’ Miguel purred to himself.

With your bodies intertwined you let him lazily fuck you to his hearts content, all under the cover of the pounding rain outside.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #smut #miguel o'hara smut #gn reader

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counterblows · 3 months ago

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⋆·˚ ༘ * SCIENTISTS HUSBAND

Special Menu

← Back to the Spiderverse Main Menu

Menu Guide | What’s on the Table?

Before placing your order, here’s how to read the menu:

♦︎ Sugar Rush (Fluff) – Light, sweet, and heartwarming treats

♣︎ Bitter Brew (Angst) – Emotional, dramatic, and sometimes painful servings

♠︎ Extra Spicy (Smut) – For customers with a taste for heat

FYI: Most of the fic are linked from my old account @/improbable-outset. I will be posting new fics from this account from now onwards

Miguel O’Hara

Marrying a scientist superhero has its unique perks <3 these are in chronological order

MOODBOARD!!!

Headcannons ♠︎♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your relationship in a nutshell

Post-Vow Clarity ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You finally confess your feelings… at a very inconvenient time.

Part I: What We Don’t Say: Out Of Sync ♦︎♣︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your anniversary is around the corner, and you were the one who suggested a weekend getaway at a luxury hotel. But as the date drew nearer, a quiet distance grows between you and Miguel. Now, you’re not even sure if he still sees you the way he used to.

Part II: What We Don’t Say: La Madrugada ♠︎♣︎♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After finding the courage to tell Miguel everything you’ve been holding in, the silence between you finally breaks. With the weight lifted, you both escape to the anniversary weekend you planned.

For Biology ♠︎♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.

Lunch Break ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You catch Miguel doing something he shouldn’t while dropping off his lunch. Now you both have to face the consequences.

Stimulant ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It has always been a routine for you to come into Miguel’s lab every once in a while, but this time you feel a strong sense of arousal out of nowhere.

In sickness and in health ♣︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

Our Delayed Joy ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It has been a week past your baby girl’s due date, and Miguel thinks it’s the perfect time to explore some natural methods to induce labour.

Some more Biology ♦︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you gave birth to your first daughter, Miguel spends the night admiring the changes that motherhood has done to your body.

Pillow Talk ♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A late night talk with Miguel leads to unexpected confessions, drawing you closer to your husband.

#★— ayrus writes #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . |Webs And All|.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

《When a Spider falls into a new world, she didn't expect it to be so.. "Batty" than the others she's been in.》

Hurriedly swinging on rooftops and walls, you gaze in awe of the night sky. Warmth filling your body as the night air floats on your suit. Taking in the night sky...

Before smog and gas cover it as you jump down on the roof top. Pouting at the loss of the clear sky as you frown.

"I forget how polluted this city is.." You grumble, going to the ledge as you place your arms on the railing. Gazing down at the city lights and billboards.

Blinking innocently at one of the paid advertisments, you squint at it curiously.

"Wayne Enter.. Prizes? Technology.." You giggle at the guy on the board. His charming smile and flirty wink was not something you've seen often for an ad for tech.

Well...

You start re-calling a few worlds that did, but with a another billionare..

"Hmm, well. That's enough day-dreaming!" You shake your body, wanting to get your jitters out before taking a deep breath... Shooting out one of your webs to a near by ledge as you run and jump off.

Feeling your body pulled downwards, you pull your web as you glide through the air. Twirling slightly as you smile underneat your mask. Laughing once more as you swing forward.

..Let's do things differently this time.

Your name is (Y/N) (L/N), you were bitten by a radioactive spider..

Yet you weren't the only one.

But now.. Your on your own, though you weren't the only one.

With a fleeting glance at you, the supposed.. Dark Knight: pays you no mind. Eagerly taking down villians left and right, as the two of you finish them off together.

You were supposed to be back at HQ.

Things didn't go as planned.

You made it work, with this "new" life of yours.

Stumbling over your shoes in a hurry, you place down the box of donuts on the big fancy board meeting table. Glad that the stairwell was open, sighing in relief, you miss the eyes that watched you leave the building. While you headed to your next job!

In this Au, Spider!(Y/N) is a temp-worker and delivery girl. Just an odd young gal doing jobs around Gotham, ordinary and sweet.

She has a multiverse-watch, handmade specifcally for her by Miguel. Being one of his first recruits to the Spider Society, yet with the new Multiverse-Canon she's stuck in, the watch forms within her body to make it more acceptable to deal within the world.

Due to this, she doesn't "glitch" is the best term

"Welcome! Lord Hades!" The man dressed in a toga greeted cheerfully. You squint in confusion. Glancing at your companion as you walked closer to his side.

"Ah.. And fair Persephone, it seems you've taken form as garden spider. How quaint!" He spoke jovially as he held out a golden goblet to the two of you.

"Be serious Max! That's Batman and-"

"But Batman is a mere mortal! And what mortal has reached the summit of Olympus and survied!" Placing a hand on Batman's shoulder, the man gestured to his cup.

"Come! Brother! Unveil yourself and your bride in the nectar of the gods!"

-Batman The Animated Series 1992 Ep: Fire From Olympus

Spider!(Y/N) doesn't know Batman's idenitiy, and funny enough. He doesn't know hers, in the beginning. I'd like to think maybe down the line there's a possibility! I just think it's silly-er.

I'd like to think the dynamic between the two is Batman served as a comedic foil to Spider!(Y/N). Sorta, "brooding guy-and happy guy". Also, I like to point out, they can both can be silly in their own ways!

Just them figuring it out with Batman is hilarious in itself.

Biting into the dish, you beam in joy! It tasted so sweet! And.. Tangy, with a bit of sour. Invested with the tasty dish, you fail to notice the striking blue eyes glancing at you from a distance. Naively standing alone in your waiter uniform as you nibble on the treat.

"Ah, Mister Wayne, good to see you." Jim Gordon, dressed outside of his usual detective get-up greets. Flattening down his suit before grabbing one of the fancy champange glasses from one of the servers.

"Oh, Commissioner!" He spoke in suprise, greeting him as the two started to chat. "-And there it was... Mister Freeze and that giant lizzard."

"Dinosur." Gordan corrected.

"Whatever, doesn't make any sense. What does Victor Freeze gain by destroying a bunch of bones?" The billionare huffed.

"That's the question alright, I wish I had the answer." The Commissioner sighed, brows lowering in thought.

-Batman The New Animated Adventures 1994 Ep: Cold Comfort

[This was a small personal project for me, I had this idea since Into the Spiderverse! I would honestly love some feedback for this! I also would love to hear your guys own ideas in the aak box!]

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greensagephase · 1 year ago

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What If...? (Father's Day)

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: It’s Father's Day and you celebrate Miguel, the father of your son. You surprise him with an unexpected gift! Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: pre-established relationship; reader is married to Miguel; parents of a three year old; breast fondling; oral sex, male receiving; unprotected sex (pls be safe); p in v; light spanking; soft Miguel Masterlist Link to part 1!

MINORS PLS DO NOT READ

In the kitchen, you put away some dishes you washed earlier from breakfast. You take care of other little tasks around your kitchen, making sure it’s organized and cleaned for dinner time.

In the living room, Miguel is hanging picture frames since you recently took new family photos. You’re both taking the time to do some quick chores since Gabrielito is taking a nap in his room.

Among your tasks, you put away some leftover homemade tortilla chips from this morning.

Today is Father’s Day and of course, you’re spoiling Miguel just like he spoiled you for Mother’s Day. You cooked his favorite breakfast - red chilaquiles, two fried eggs, and fried beans topped with queso fresco - a typical Mexican dish that can be served both for breakfast and dinner, hence the tortilla chips.

With a smile, you recall this morning when you surprised Miguel with his favorite breakfast in bed. You bought him flowers because you wholeheartedly believe men also deserve to receive some, at least your man does, and then cuddled with him and Gabriel for a while.

It’s now around one in the afternoon and you’ve had lunch already. Miguel subtly told you earlier in the week that he wanted to spend the whole day at home with his family and do little tasks around the house, like hanging new picture frames. That’s why you decided to order takeout for lunch from one of Miguel’s favorite places, at least.

However, just because you plan to stay home all day doesn’t mean you didn’t plan something fun and special for the evening. Your plan is to cook another one of his favorite dishes for dinner and then end the day with a movie night.

You’ve bought Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks for the movie, and you have plans to make the living room even more cozy than it already is with blankets and pillows.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel’s drill from the living room, a smile forming on your face.

Your handy husband, gotta love him.

You grab two cold drinks from the fridge, one for Miguel and one for you before heading to the living room. You find Miguel standing in front of one of the walls with a pencil behind his ear as he drills into the wall. He looks so… You have to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander but wow, he’s so handsome.

“I got you a drink,” you say approaching him.

Miguel turns, smiling at you. “You’re always thinking about me, preciosa. Gracias [precious, thank you],” he says, accepting your offering with appreciation. He opens it and takes a few sips. “Almost done here. ¿Como se mira [how does it look?]?” he asks, pointing his chin towards the wall.

You step closer and take a better look at the pictures of the three of you, smiling.

“It looks fantastic, corazón [heart]. Look at us,” you say softly as your eyes settle on one picture in particular. Miguel is holding Gabrielito, his arm wrapped protectively around his son. The other one? Around your waist in an equally protective manner. The three of you are smiling at the camera, a happy family.

Miguel steps behind you, quickly resting his head on top of yours, his arms finding their rightful place around your waist. “My whole life,” Miguel whispers sweetly. “In one picture alone.”

Your heart swells with love and tenderness. With a sigh, you place your hands on his arms.

“Our little family,” you whisper.

“Si, nuestra familia [yes, our family],” Miguel whispers. He moves his head and pecks your cheek from the side. “El amor de mi vida y mi hijo [the love of my life and my son].” He pecks your cheek again. Again. And again, until he has you giggling like a schoolgirl, his arms tightening around you. “Ven aquí, preciosa [come here, precious],” he murmurs against your lips. “Te amo [I love you].”

“Mm, I love you more,” you murmur back, eyes closed as you bask in Miguel’s attention.

“Impossible,” Miguel murmurs, his lips moving to your neck to continue their mission. “You’re my whole universe - the very air I breathe.”

With a low moan, you move your head aside to grant him more access.

“Good girl,” Miguel says, his mouth on your neck. He peppers your neck with more kisses before he gently bites the soft flesh, eliciting another sweet moan from you. “Dios, te amo mi reyna [God, I love you my queen].”

“I love you,” you reply. “Te amo, mi corazón [I love you, my heart].”

Miguel smiles and plants a few more kisses on your neck, creating an ache between his and your thighs. He pauses his kissing for a moment to look at the photograph, looking at the three of you. His arms tighten around you, even more somehow, protectively.

He can’t help but think about something. It’s been a few weeks since Mother’s Day, since that night when you both decided to start trying for a second baby. Ever since that night, the two of you have been going at it, which is not unusual, really. Your passion for each other has always been ignited, no matter the ups and downs of a normal, healthy marriage. Even when you both thought you’d find it difficult to make time as a couple with the arrival of your firstborn, it turned out that your baby boy only strengthened that passion - that love.

So, Miguel supposes your recent love making moments are not shocking, however he can’t deny that there’s an extra special layer because you’re trying for a second baby. Either way, he knows the two of you have been going at it and he can’t help but wonder if it’s happened yet, if his seed has taken and you’re now carrying another baby in the beautiful, gorgeous, goddess-like, and breathtaking body you have. The thought makes him giddy.

He really wants to be a dad of two, wants your little family to grow.

“Soon, mi amor [my love], there will be four of us there,” he whispers with hope and longing.

You smile at the thought. “Very soon. I have no doubt,” you whisper.

That makes Miguel grin. He kisses your neck again, his tongue darting out to taste your sweet skin. Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue running down your neck, moving to your shoulder. You lean back on him, pressing your ass to his groin area and immediately feeling his semi-hard cock.

“Miggy,” you whisper.

“Mhm?” Miguel runs his tongue upwards now.

“You’re growing hard.”

“I know, preciosa. Can’t help it,” he whispers. “I’ll stop if you want.” He begins to pull back, understanding you may not be in the mood and being respectful as always of your boundaries.

“No, come here,” you say holding him by his arms, attempting to stop him from moving away from you. Once you feel him pressed against you again, you lean back as much as possible, pressing your ass more firmly on his cock.

“Mmm, you want to, hermosa [beautiful]?” he asks pushing forward.

“Yes, I want to. I want - need you,” you reply realizing you’ve grown so wet just with his neck kisses and bites.

“Say that again,” Miguel whispers.

“I need you,” you whisper, making your husband groan softly.

“I need you, too, preciosa,” he whispers back, his mouth attaching to your neck again. His hands slide up from your waist to your breasts, cupping both of them with his large hands. He brings them closer together, squeezing gently and fondling them.

You whimper softly, laying your hands over his. “They’re a bit sensitive,” you whisper.

Miguel loosens up his grip. “’m sorry, princesa [princess]. Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned. He begins to massage them even more gently, tenderly.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry. I’m just letting you know,” you reassure him. “They’ve been sensitive for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, baby, why didn’t you tell me?” Miguel asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, massaging your sensitive breasts. “I could’ve massaged them for you,” he says genuinely as he knows you find his large and warm hands helpful for these kinds of things - and other things, of course - but especially when you need a little massage, his hands are perfect for it.

“It hasn’t been bad, I promise,” you reply.

“Okay, but I still want to help you,” your sweet husband says, still massaging your tender breasts. “We can stop - we can focus on this, preciosa. I don’t want you hurting or feeling discomfort. Plus, you’ve been feeling fatigued, too. Maybe you ought to rest a bit, mi reyna [my queen].”

“N-no,” you say, shaking your head. “Please? I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“M’kay, but I’ll be extra gentle with your breasts.” Miguel gives a gentle squeeze, feeling your hardened nipples through your top and bralette. He lowers his hands and pulls your top up by the hem. You aid him by lifting your arms, knowing it’s only the beginning.

In a matter of seconds, you’re both naked in the living room, pressed against each other kissing. Miguel’s hands fondle your ass while your hands glide up and down his back, your nails digging slightly into his skin, leaving goosebumps behind. You chuckle while kissing him, getting an idea. Miguel pulls back, wondering what you’re chuckling about. He soon finds out the reason when you deliver a gentle but firm spank to his ass.

His eyebrows raise, a smirk on his lips. “Oye, oye,” he says in a feigned offended tone. “Spanking your husband’s ass?”

“What about it?” you ask nonchalantly, grinning up at him.

Miguel hums, smirking. He pulls you closer, leaving no space between you. “I love when you use that tone,” he whispers leaning down and taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you.

You return the kiss, your hands gliding to his hips. You give them a squeeze before you slide one of your hands between your bodies with a clear intention. Not even a second later, Miguel lets out a soft growl as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick cock.

Smiling, you pump his cock gently, swiping your thumb over the engorged tip. You let out a soft hum of approval when you feel pre-cum. “So hard, baby,” you whisper as your hand wraps around it more firmly.

“Mierda, preciosa [shit, precious],” Miguel groans, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he feels your fingers’ ministrations.

“I want to please you,” you whisper.

You push Miguel’s arms off you and get down on your knees, still holding his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, preciosa,” he says, looking down at you, the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your hand doing nothing to help his now throbbing member. “You look so pretty for me.”

His words encourage you - fuel you. You lean forward and lick the tip, wiping clean the new droplet of precum, staining your tongue.

“Ah - fuck,” Miguel lets out. “Your teasing licks. You’re gonna end me, mi reyna.”

You chuckle before licking again. “You like that, baby?” You don’t need to ask that, you know Miguel does but you still love to hear him say it.

“Yes - I do - You know I do.”

“I like to hear that, corazón,” you say before you take his cock into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, coating it with your saliva.

“Mi-erdaa- fuck- fuck - preciosa,” Miguel grunts.

You take more of him, struggling to take his size even years later because he’s so big. You slide back, only leaving the tip in to look at the rest of his cock for a second. It’s so damn big sometimes you’re still surprised at the fact that you can take him both in your mouth and pussy.

You lean forward, taking more of Miguel. Your mouth gets stuffed with your husband's cock, stretching your mouth. You hollow your cheeks out, causing Miguel to groan, before you begin to bop your head, settling into a rhythm that you know he loves.

“Fu- ayy - amor [love] - Esa boquita [that little mouth]- you're killing me”

You look up at him, making Miguel moan. “You look so pretty, preciosa. Look at those pretty eyes.” He cups your face with one hand, caressing your cheek tenderly. You notice the way his stomach and legs flex, fighting back the urge to move his hips. Tapping his thigh, you let him know he may do it.

He bites his bottom lip, understanding, before he holds your head still. He always does that, not to keep you still for his own need but to ensure he doesn't hurt you, it's the last thing he ever wants to do.

He groans as he pushes forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat. He stays like that for a few seconds, eyes closed and appreciating the way your mouth feels around him before he slides out, only leaving the tip in for a second before he pushes back in. He repeats his actions for a few moments, grunting as he feels your sweet, small mouth struggle to take him in but still trying nonetheless.

“That’s enough, preciosa, or I'm gonna cum in your mouth,” he says pulling out gently. You both look at his cock, shining with your saliva and his precum.

You lick your lips and lean forward again before taking the tip in your mouth again, sucking it gently.

“Ahhh- ahh- fuckkkk!!”

You moan, hearing Miguel's voice.

“Mmm,” you murmur, closing your eyes as you suck on his tip. You swirl your tongue greedily, trying to get more reactions from him because his grunts and whimpers always turn you on. Unfortunately, Miguel cups your face with both his hands, holding your head still. You whine, opening your mouth and reluctantly releasing him. “Miggyyy.”

“Shh,” he replies. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you keep going with that little mouth of yours.” He helps you up to your feet, always the gentleman.

“I want to please you,” you start, pouting. “It’s Father’s Day.”

That makes Miguel’s gaze soften. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you. “You want to give me a blow job for Father’s Day?” he whispers against your cheek before kissing it.

“Mhmmm.”

“How sweet, preciosa.” He kisses your cheek again, moving to your lips to kiss them. “So sweet - so sweet, my little pretty wife. You’re the sweetest.” He kisses your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, and chin. Your entire face is getting peppered with kisses.

“Migs, I’m the one that’s supposed to spoil you today,” you murmur, making him laugh.

“Who says you’re not spoiling me? Getting to kiss you is one of the best gifts I could receive,” he says continuing to kiss you. “But if you’re thinking in terms of this,” he pauses and motions to the state you’re both in - naked, aroused, and with the need to make love. “You know what I would love more than a blow job?” He leans close to your ear.

You nod, whimpering as he squeezes your ass cheeks with both hands. “Yea- yeah - mhmm.”

“Why don’t I show you instead?” he murmurs, tugging on your earlobe gently with his teeth.

“That sounds - good to me,” you whisper, your pussy soaked and needy for your husband’s cock.

So he does.

Miguel grabs a blanket from one of the couches and spreads it on the living room floor. He wastes no time to bring you to your knees, positioning himself behind you and pushing your torso down, leaving your ass high in the air.

He smacks your ass cheek firmly, eliciting a whimper from you and leaving a sting on your skin.

“Gonna take this pussy from the back, mi amor [my love],” Miguel mumbles, his cock hard and needy, ready to be buried deep, deep inside you. He pushes your legs apart with his knee, pressing behind you and rubbing his cock against your heat. He groans loudly, feeling how wet you are. “Mierda [shit] - you’re drenched, princesita [little princess]. You’re so eager for my cock?” he asks, moving his hips to rub his length up and down your slit, making you whine with need. “So eager to get fucked from behind - to get this pretty pussy filled with my cum?

“Yes - yes - I want it, Miggy,” you reply eagerly, moving your body to get more friction. You rub yourself against his body, pressing your ass to his hips. The movement earns you another spank.

“So needy, princesita - rubbing yourself on me like that,” Miguel murmurs, squeezing your ass cheek with his large hand. He lands another spank on your ass as he rubs against you, coating his cock with your sleek. “Good girl,” he praises, loving how soaked and needy you are. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy, baby, gonna make you feel good, okay?”

You hum in response, biting your bottom lip and feeling more than ready to take your husband’s big cock as he continues to rub the tip along your slit. He makes you gasp in pleasure when he suddenly slips in, pushing the tip with no trouble thanks to how wet you are. Your legs tremble as he slips in, burying himself into your heat while groaning and praising you.

“Good girl - so fucking wet for me - so ready - you’re so ready for me,” he says, his words coming in pauses to groan as he feels your walls stretch around his cock, accommodating to his size. “Mierda, princesa - so fucking tight, squeezing my cock so good.” He spanks you again, watching the way your ass recoils from it. “Look at this pretty ass - all mine, yeah, baby?”

“Fuck - yes -ahh!” you start but moan when you feel him push all the way in, his tip reaching that sweet spot of yours. “Miguel-”

“I know princesa, I’m all the way in - buried deep inside you. You feel so good, so good for me,” he says groaning, your walls clenching around him. “Gonna fill you with my cum, princesa - we’re gonna have another baby, yes?”

“Mhmm, another baby, yes,” you coo.

“Good girl, you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant with my baby again,” he says pulling back and leaving only the tip in. “So pretty carrying my baby, princesa, so fucking beautiful.” He’s barely done talking when he slams right in, pushing his heavy cock deep inside you. He relishes on the way your legs tense, the way you moan beneath him as he begins to thrust into you, quickly finding his rhythm.

“Fu-ckkk - Mig- ye-ah - don’t stop,” you beg, whining as he thrusts into you, over and over again, stretching your walls deliciously with his fat cock.

“Don't stop, baby?” Miguel asks as he grabs your ass with both hands to support himself, thrusting into you without faltering.

“Don't - pleas-e -ahh- ahh - please- fuc- me-!” you manage to get out, moaning and whimpering, feeling your husband's fingers dig into your soft flesh just the right way. He keeps hitting that sweet spot, making you a moaning mess beneath him. You curse in pleasure as his thrusts grow heavier and stronger, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding stimulation.

And God, Miguel's grunts as he slides in and out of your pussy is making you hazy - he sounds so pretty, so needy for you.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans as he leans on you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he keeps thrusting. He pulls your upper body up so your back is pressed to his chest before he presses kisses and little bites to your shoulder. He then slowly moves his hand down, reaching between your thighs to play with your clit, making you arch against him. He flicks your clit and rubs his thumb over it, making it his mission to make you orgasm before he does.

Thrust after thrust, your sweet moans and whimpers reach Miguel's ears, motivating him. He knows you're close when your walls start squeezing his cock, trying to milk him dry before he's even climaxed.

“Cum for me, preciosa,” he grunts out as his hips snap into your ass over and over again until he has you shaking beneath him and screaming his name.

Panting and whimpering from your climax, Miguel pulls out of you and quickly, but gently, turns you on your back. You whine as soon as he slips out, feeling empty, but Miguel takes care of it. He spreads your legs and immediately settles between them, slipping back into you, needing you.

You both moan as soon as he bottoms out and you waste no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, knowing, even in your hazy state, why he switched positions.

“Fuc- ‘m gonna - gonna - mierda - gonna cum inside you, preciosa,” he says in between groans as he thrusts into you fast and hard, chasing his own climax to fill you with hot seed.

His thrusts become sloppier and sloppier until he eventually goes still, moaning. A second later, you feel his cock twitch a few times before he fills you with his hot, thick cum, painting your walls white. You moan, your legs tightening around him as you get filled deliciously.

Watching your blissful face, Miguel lowers himself on top of you, wrapping his arms around protectively. You both pant, riding out your highs together. You kiss his head gently, whimpering as he thrusts a few more times, letting your hungry pussy milk him until he’s spent and you’re full of him. He stays buried inside you as you both recover from your highs, both of you wanting to let his seed take since you’re trying for a second baby.

A few minutes later, your sweet husband takes care of you during after care. When you feel like you can walk again, you both shower quickly to get properly cleaned up before Gabriel wakes up from his nap.

Once he does, the three of you chill until it’s time to make dinner. You keep Miguel out of the kitchen even though he keeps popping up with your son, offering to help but you stand your ground and keep him out in order to really surprise him.

You succeed, despite his attempts to help, and your sweet husband, not surprisingly, thanks you with lots of kisses and words of love, which you one hundred percent reciprocate.

Before you know it, it’s movie time. You give Miguel’s last surprise of the day by revealing your plans for the evening, including the basket full of Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks. You also give him a proper gift, something you saw him eyeing a few weeks ago at the store but didn’t buy because he said he had an old one - a set of tools. You’re happy with your purchase when you see the way Miguel’s eyes lit up with excitement while he opens it. You have no doubt he’s already thinking about all the ways he’s going to use it before he’s even done opening it.

Once that’s done, you get Miguel on the couch and pamper him by throwing a blanket over him and Gabriel, who insists on cuddling with his “daddy.” You place the basket with snacks near him and finally start the movie.

The three of you are having a great time, or at least you think so, Gabrielito doesn’t seem too interested in the movie but more on playing with his dad’s hands before he asks to play with his toys on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, you begin to feel sick all of a sudden. You try to push past it, thinking maybe you’ve eaten too many snacks since Miguel has been sharing everything with you. It grows worse by the minute, nausea hitting you suddenly. That’s when you decide it’s better to head to the bathroom, just in case.

“I'll be right back,” you tell Miguel standing up and hurrying, looking off.

“Preciosa, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?” Miguel asks, quickly checking in on Gabrielito and making sure he's safe before following after you.

He reaches the bathroom in seconds where he finds you already vomiting, his concern going through the roof. He immediately reaches you, helping you as much as he can. He rubs your back gently, sticking by you all the way until you wash your mouth and face, trying to catch your breath.

You sigh softly as he helps dry your face, gentle as always.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Do you feel better? Is the nausea gone?” he asks, brows knitted with concern.

You nod, swallowing saliva and wincing a bit. “Yeah, much better now. I just started feeling sick out of nowhere.”

Miguel’s head tilts to the side, your words sinking in.

You stare at each other for a few seconds before you connect the dots. Miguel comes to the same conclusion because he suddenly smiles warmly and happily at you before he places a hand on your tummy.

“Mi reyna [my queen],” he coos.

You smile at him, knowing.

“No wonder,” you say as Miguel pulls you into an embrace. “Sore breasts, nausea, and I’ve been feeling a bit tired the last few days.”

Miguel kisses your forehead. “We’re expecting, mi preciosa [my precious],” he whispers. “We’re having a second baby.”

Hearing his words makes it suddenly feel real and you can’t help but let out a happy noise of content, throwing your arms around him. “I’m pregnant!” you say hugging your husband, who hugs you tight to him.

“You’re pregnant, mi amor [my love]. You're pregnant - I can't believe it. I mean, I do, we've been working on it,” Miguel says with a playful smile, making you laugh. “But it happened so fast. I'm so happy right now!” Miguel picks you up, hugging you. “I want to go outside and yell it to the whole world that we're having a second baby. Dios [God],” Miguel says, kissing your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats in between kisses. “Te amo [I love you].”

“I love you,” you whisper, caressing the curls at the back of his head. “I love you so much.”

“Yo a ti más, mi preciosa [I love you more, my precious],” Miguel whispers pulling back to kiss your lips, lovingly and tenderly. He breaks the kiss a few seconds later and holds you in his arms, the two of you standing in the bathroom. “Gracias, hermosa, gracias [thank you, beautiful, thank you]. You've given me the best gift for Father's Day.”

You chuckle softly, hugging him. “It was an unexpected gift.”

“Perfect way to end the day, hermosa.” Miguel smiles and kisses your forehead again. “God, I'm already thinking of all the things I'm gonna hang up in the new nursery using my new tool set.”

You laugh and pull back. “One step at a time, corazón. It's still early, but if all goes well, in a few months you'll be doing all of that.”

“Happily,” he replies. “You know I'll be there every step. I'll rub your feet and carry you to the bed. I'll do your nails, I'll do anything and everything,” Miguel promises, peppering your face with kisses, caressing your back.

You smile, knowing they're not empty promises.

You spend a few more moments in the bathroom before you return to the living room where you cuddle with your son, happy and excited that in a few months, your family will gain one new member.

A/N: Meant to post this earlier and then life happened, but it's still Father's Day for me so, happy Father's Day to my husband Miguel!! Thank you for reading!!

-Alondra ❤️

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bluesidez · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! I saw your opening requests!

I was hoping for Miguel O’Hara x plus-size reader. Reader is a regular waitress who meets both Miguel and Spider-Man. Knows Miguel because he’s become a regular and Spider-Man because the diner gets robbed, but Reader manages to save herself. Also if the reader could have glasses that would be awesome!

It’s up to you! You’re the writer.

Also I just wanted to say I love your Gym rat Miguel series! 😁❤️💙❤️

[Dual]

lab taster: Anonymous Participant 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x PlusSize!Reader

summary: There's something strange about that guy in the corner...

content warning: fluffy, definitely suggestive at parts, I kind of take a bit from the comic books, but it's still the ATSV Miguel, Kasey Nash is here + a certain someone for like a millisecond, talks of violence, guns, and threats (but nothing too terrifying), also LOTS of mentions of food. like lotsssss

word count: 3.6k, halfway proofread

a/n: I started writing this as if she worked at a fancy restaurant, but then I realized you said diner, so I had to backtrack. ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE ON GYM RAT MIGUEL!!! 🩵

“I’ve never seen one man eat so much.”

You looked to where your coworker was staring, eyes landing on the man that frequents the corner of the dim dining room.

“He’s a big guy. He probably needs it,” you flipped through your pad in order to avoid looking at the person who’s been wrapped in your thoughts for a few months now.

He always comes in just when the afternoon is turning into evening and the sun kisses his skin through the window. Most days he looks a little tired, lost in thought as he waits for his food.

His order is usually the same: a double-stacked burger with a large fry and a black coffee. Sometimes, he’d substitute the meal with a heavy breakfast, pouring syrup over everything. Other times, he’d order pork chops and gravy with a slice of apple pie to take home.

He always looked a bit sheepish when he asked for a meal to-go, as if you would judge him openly for being a working man.

On the contrary, you wondered why he always came here. From the shine on his watch to the material of his clothes, you could tell he could afford better establishments to eat at.

“If you’re done ogling at him, you can bring him the check,” Kasey snickered at you. “He keeps looking over here and it’s freaking me out.”

“You just don’t like anyone but that flying bug guy.”

“That’s Mr. Spider-Man to you,” Kasey moved so that you could print out his receipt. “And he does something useful with his time like save civilians. That guy just comes in here and looks at you like he wants to eat you for dessert.”

“What?”

You turn to him again and he quickly looks out of the window, plastic cup pressed against his lips.

“I don’t think he even sees me like that,” you mumble, ripping the paper from the machine and placing it onto the clipboard. “He’s just a man who enjoys comforting meals and ambiance.”

“Yeah. An ambiance that starts and ends with you and your ass, maybe.”

An affronted “hey” goes ignored by Kasey who disappears to go serve another table.

She really shouldn’t have put that thought into your head, because now you’re more hyperaware of your actions than usual.

You wipe at your apron and pull your dress down before you head towards his table, steps a bit hesitant.

As you get closer, he looks back at you. Maybe he is interested, but maybe you’re a bit delusional.

“Here’s your check, sir. I hope you enjoyed your meal,” you placed the clipboard on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, thank you,” he holds up the check up with a small smile. “Maybe a name so I know who my tip is going to.”

Your fingers press against the frames of your glasses, pushing them up a little.

Did you forget to introduce yourself to him when you sat him down?

When you say your name, your confusion must have carried over to your face because the way the man brings his hands up is quick.

“Ah, it’s fine Mr.-“ you take a glance at his card, never mind that you’ve already memorized his name, “O’Hara.”

“Miguel is fine.”

“Mr. Miguel.”

“Just. Miguel is fine.”

You nod and smile. Miguel was fitting for a face like that, and your heart felt the same way as you completed his transaction and handed him his receipt.

The thought of him being interested in you was cute to imagine, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

Kasey taps your shoulder as she carries a coffee jug back to the machine, “Go clear your table. There’s a tip.”

With a routined step, you start to stack his empty plates. Napkins get thrown into the bin, and utensils are gathered.

A gasp leaves your lips as a stack of 20s reveals itself. A note wrapped around it says your name and “Thank you for always making my nights.”

Maybe Kasey was right. She could never know that, though.

It’s about a week or so before Miguel comes back.

Oddly enough, too much happened at the diner within that time.

Your boss was on your ass about splitting your tips with a manager that was never there. Creeps kept lingering around the corner during closing time. Your schedule was insane and you’ve hit your monthly limit of rude customers.

When Miguel comes in, it’s almost as if white angel wings were attached to him.

“What can I get you today?” you ask with a smile.

“I think just a black coffee to start off,” he looks over you. “New uniforms?”

You glance down at your dress, the neckline of it plunging severely low.

“Yeah. The boss thinks it’ll bring in more customers,” you yank at the back of the dress, still a bit nervous about how high the skirt is on your body. It’s tight in places that no uniform can should be, hugging your curves, and exposing your chest and legs. “I think he’s full of it.”

Miguel is silent for a while, eyes roaming in a way that you couldn’t quite discern.

“He definitely was onto something.”

You blink.

“Uh, is he- He’s not causing any problems for you, is he?”

“No. It’s all good. For now.”

He stumbles his way through his order, corned beef on rye bread with swiss cheese and sauerkraut along with some homemade potato spirals.

“Will that be all for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” he hides behind his coffee mug as you walk away.

While you wait for his order to be done, you watch Kasey run around and chat with some of your regulars. Despite how grumpy she could be, she was a natural at keeping the customers entertained.

Refilling the drinks for a few people at the barstools, your mind drifts to what Kasey is saying to one of the old geezers who’s keen on superstitions.

“I’m just saying, there has to be a motive for why he only strikes in the afternoon!”

“Are you sure he’s just not an idiot desperate for attention?” Kasey removes his empty plate and tops off his water. “Leaving notes with riddles? That’s so been-there-done-that.”

“Kase, I don’t think you get it, doll. His attacks have gotten more and more severe. He’s starting to target a specific demographic.”

A shout and a ding by the window lets you know that Miguel’s order is ready. You place an extra pickle on his plate just because.

Rounding the corner of the bar, Kasey is still bickering about the city’s most recent villain.

“Listen. If I’m ever in dire need,” she turns and sighs dramatically at a news segment featuring Spider-Man flying across buildings, “I know who to call for.”

The old man clicks his teeth and throws a hand at the screen, “What a bunch of rubbish. That prick isn’t worth a hoot. The Fly-Boys are your best bet.”

“As if those douchebags can do anything for me. Hurry up and pay, mister.”

You place Miguel’s food in front of him, mouth moving before your mind.

“Spider-man seems like a nice guy.”

“What makes you say so?” Miguel reaches for the ketchup.

“Oh, I don’t know. Kasey is always going on and on about him, so any doubts I had, she’s already debunked.”

He’s silent, turning over his sandwich.

“And what do you think of him now?”

“I think he’s pretty cool. He must be stressed out from everything, though. I couldn’t imagine taking on so much. What about you?”

He coughs, “What about me?”

“What do you think of Spider-Man?”

“He’s practical, always gets the job done. Maybe a bit too ambitious for his own good.”

“You talk like you know him.”

“I’ve never met him,” Miguel hums. “ Just taking a wild guess.”

The clip switches to Spider-Man throwing a car right at a villain camping out in a park resulting in immediate flames.

“That’s practical, alright.”

Miguel clears his throat, “He’s probably had better days.”

It’s been raining a lot which meant slower business and slower tips.

You’ve spent most work hours folding and refolding the towel in your apron pocket or flipping through the songs on the jukebox to fill the stillness of the diner.

A few lone stragglers were enjoying their meal, keeping quiet to themselves.

The chefs in the back were roughhousing and Kasey was ticking down when she could clock out.

Two more hours and thirty until you could fight through the rain to get home.

The bell to the door rings, opening up to a drenched Miguel.

A smile comes to your face as if you won a cash prize.

“Hey, stranger,” Kasey says as she turns and starts up a pot of coffee as you round the corner. “Glad to see you here. She was worried sick! You haven’t come in for a while.”

“Kasey, hush!”

“No, no, let her speak,” Miguel taps against the counter. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

You elbow Kasey before she even thinks to respond, “Would you like your regular seat, Miguel?”

“I would love that. Had a long day.”

“That you should tell her all about over some coffee,” Kasey smiles. “Go ahead, I’ll cover you.”

You sigh as Kasey follows you to wear Miguel usually sits, and gets Miguel’s order down. She fights silently with you over sitting down across from him. Her eyes saying something along the lines of “we can split the tip,” “here’s your chance,” and “that old fart isn’t going to fire you.”

So there you were, sitting across the guy who you anticipate to come in every so often. The guy who loved simple, American-style meals. The guy with the nice build and a pretty face.

The guy who can’t stop looking at your chest right now.

“You said you had a tough day?” you peer at him from over your glasses, a little unsure of what his steady eyes meant.

“Um, yeah,” he stutters. “There’s been some changes in positions at my job. Some higher ups are giving me trouble, but I think they’re scared they’re about to lose their seats.”

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you were a big-shot.”

“I wouldn’t say all of that,” he grins as he bends his head down. The way his hair falls is dreamy and it’s no fair that he still looks this good despite the rain dousing him. “I’m just in an interesting spot.”

Kasey plops down a hot plate of chopped steak and mashed potatoes smothered in gravy with some steaming broccoli on the side. There’s a heaping amount of food on the plate and you give her an incredulous look before she whips out an extra pair of utensils.

“The guys in the back a closing up shop. They want as little dishes to wash as possible.”

“We don’t close until-”

“As little dishes as possible!” Kasey sing-songs, leaving you shifting in your seat.

Miguel picks up a fork, “I hope you like beef.”

He starts to cut into the meat and you’re slow to follow, watching his arms bulge through through his sweater.

You wonder if he could hear your heart rattling in your chest.

The conversation continues and you learn that Miguel works at Alchemax working as a head lab technician.

“Miguel, that’s amazing! I’ve seen old classmates nearly go to war for that position.”

“It’s not all that it’s chalked up to be.”

“It’s still astounding that you got to that level,” you push your fork through some potatoes and take a bite, “You should be proud. And if not, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he looks up at you while you continue to chew. “You’ve got something here.”

“Oh,” you quickly take your fingers to your lips, embarrassed.

“Here,” Miguel reaches across from you and wipes he corner of your mouth with a napkin. “All better.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Time is lost as you two exchange words, Miguel making you laugh over the smallest things. He’s as sweet as ever, his compliments make you ecstatic, and he listens when you go into your own stories. Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been grinning.

“Hey, so, I’ve been thinking,” Miguel starts.

“About?”

He takes a deep breath, shoulders tensing up.

“I would love to take you on a date. Somewhere nice and exciting. That’s if you would want to, of course. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Miguel,” you stop his ramblings with a hand on his wrist, “I would love to go on a date with you.”

His shoulders relax, and his smile is wide.

The chime of the door rings, signaling another customer coming inside. His hands are in his pockets and his hoodie is pulled tight around him. Not an uncommon sight, but the diner was set to close soon.

You followed his steps as he sat in Kasey’s side of the diner, his leg bouncing repeatedly.

“For our date,” Kasey meets your eyes before she goes to his table. Her hospitable tone switched on. “Where were you thinking of going?”

Miguel begins to answer, but you continue to stare at the other side of the room. The guy is jumpy and from what you can tell, snappy. Kasey looks antsy as she walks back to the counter to grab a cup and a picture of water.

Miguel turns around to look where you’re watch and turns back, “Is something wrong?”

“That guy is making Kasey nervous. She’s hiding it well, but she’s freaking out.”

You both watch as he scans that side of the room, body rocking in the still chair.

It was daunting and quiet. The sound of the rain drowning out the idle noises of the dining room.

“Something’s not right,” you whisper.

From how Miguel gets up, you can see that he can feel the uneasiness, too.

Kasey walks over to him, a slice of thick chocolate cake on a small plate in her hands. She places it on the table, ready to ask if he needs anything else.

Time stops as he grabs her arm and yanks her towards him, the few customers left stopping to watch the scene. Kasey pulls her arm back, ready to put up a fight.

The man pulls something out of his pocket, Kasey’s voice reaching a shriek. You gasp as you see him point it right at her head, nerves nearly failing you. People scramble to corners of the room, some falling to the floor.

Miguel grabs your arm and drags you to the bathroom, your hands covering your mouth as you fight the urge to scream.

You can’t feel anything as he shoves you into a stall, your limbs trembling. Tears are running down your face as you try to think, but Miguel is holding you up to keep you from falling.

“Stay in here, and lock the door. Don’t come out.”

“But Miguel, he has a gun! We, we should call someone. You can’t go back out there!”

“I’ll be ok. I promise.”

“How do you know that?”

“Look at me,” Miguel takes your hands as you slide to the floor. He makes the trip easy, arms solid. “I’ll meet you when this is over, ok?”

“Ok,” your vision blurs as Miguel leaves, face worn with sorrow.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the gross bathroom floor, sobbing into your hands.

You could hear shouting and screaming, the yells of the man telling everyone to shut up. A few bangs of his gun went off and you bit your wrist in order to give yourself away. It didn’t feel right to be the only one to make an escape, but maybe you would be next to die, too.

The rain continues outside, a loud strike of thunder echoing off the tiles as lights flicker off. Your heartbeat picks up as you try not to make a sound. The lightning illuminates the room for a second, and the noise from outside stops.

You can’t tell what’s going on, the pit of your stomach falling with every second.

The door bangs open, and you feel like passing out. It sounds like the ocean is roaring in your ears as you try to listen for footsteps.

One second turns into two, two turns into ten, and you lose count of how long you’re holding your breath.

Your stall is pried open as the lightning shines through the window. Even as you see the masked hero, your throat lets out a weak cry.

“Come on,” he says, eyes on his mask squinting. “It’s safe now.”

With your eyes refocusing, you see Spider-Man standing tall and proud, with Kasey latched to his back like a koala.

Your hand moves across the stall before you feel yourself falling forward.

Spider-Man catches you with ease, lifting you into his arms.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

He carries you both back to the dining room where the robber is beaten black and blue, tied up in neon red webbing. People are huddled up together as policemen ask them questions.

Spider-Man places you in a seat and grabs a blanket from the pile that was brought in. You thank him with a soft voice.

“You can get off of my back now,” he tells Kasey. “He won’t hurt you any time soon.”

“No! I think I want to stay here,” she says. Her eyes surveying the side of his head. Her hands rub the side of his mask, “You really are as sturdy as they say. And this suit! It’s so cooling. What’s it made of? Silk?”

“No, it’s- Will you get off of me, please?”

Kasey jumps to the floor, face filled with glee, like she didn’t just get held at gunpoint.

“Where’s my phone? I have to get a picture. Look here! Say ‘whiskey’! Oh, wait, you can’t really smile can you? Can you sign something for me? My friends are going to be so jealous.”

Spider-Man stiffens up as Kacey flits around him like an excited puppy.

You try to be happy for her, but you can’t find Miguel. He said we would be ok.

There’s an old couple by the window, a mom and her son by the bar, a truck driver talking to the police. No Miguel.

“Shock, can you give me a second?” Spider-Man barks as Kasey tries to climb over him again, squealing like a schoolgirl.

“Excuse me,” you tug at his hand that Kasey doesn’t have a grip on, “Have you seen a man, about 6’8 or so? Sweater, khakis, and a lanyard. He- he was with me before the robber came. I don’t see him anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, this is everyone that was here when I came. Maybe he went to get help.”

“Oh, god,” you take in a watery gulp of air. “What if something happened to him out there? He told me he would be ok!”

“Hey, I’m sure wherever he is, he’ll be alright. No need to panic. Everything from here and a few miles out is taken care of. No one else is coming out here in this weather.”

The guy starts to wake up and fight against the webbing.

“I gotta take care of this,” he pulls Kasey off of him. “See you around, ladies.”

“But Spider-Man-”

Oranges, blues, and reds flash before you, Spider-Man flopping the man over his shoulder as he walks through, stoic silhouette disappearing before you.

You sit in horror as everything weighs down on you.

Something, no, someone, was taken from you before it even had a chance to begin.

Kasey’s hands are rubbing on your back as you cry into the blanket in your lab.

You had no idea where Miguel was.

“I’m sure he’s alright,” Kasey whispers to you, “And if not, I’ll kill him.”

A chuckle comes out of you, a bit half-hearted.

The lights of a car beam through the windows, doors slamming as people came rushing through the door.

You look up to Miguel and a man that looked almost identical.

“Miguel!” you run to him, his arms nearly taking you off the ground. “Oh my god, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Your hands shake as you touch across his face. He’s all intact, although still drenched.

“I’m ok, I promised you I would be. I went to go get help.”

“Hot help at that,” Kasey whistles as she looks at the man behind Miguel.

“Are you alright?” Miguel covers the hand you have on your face. “I hope I didn’t give you too much of a scare.”

“I’m better now,” you practically melt into him. “Is that date still on?”

“It was never off. I just need your number now. And we can get out of here, yeah?”

You nod and lean onto his chest listening to his heart sing to you.

It feels familiar.

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! It felt very mysterious to write even thought I didn't really mean for it to be.

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