#miguel o hara fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oharaslove · 2 months ago

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓉.𝟤

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship.

Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please) fem!reader

Word count: 8k

Note: This is part 2 of a request!! I think you can read this as a one shot, but it would be better if you read the previous part (linked below). I also recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene).

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.

And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasn’t. Miguel’s insecurities were at all time high.

Besides, he couldn’t get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed.

Six months ago he dreaded the question: ‘There is someone special in your life?’, but now…

You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.

Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didn’t feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t enough. He would never be.

His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didn’t let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same.

That there was a possibility.

It didn’t help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What if–

“Miguel?” you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. “Are you okay?” you continued, moving even closer.

Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face.

“Yeah, I… I am fine, don’t worry” he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself.

“Are you…, are you sure? You don’t look okay” You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.

“Yes” he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

“Did I…” you began, your voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?”. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you.

You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide.

Shit. “No no no” Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, that’s what he did. “You.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at me” he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you.

You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of ‘sorrys’ and ‘please’. Miguel’s heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didn’t realise how his actions were affecting you.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadn’t pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about.

You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguel’s eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising.

You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. She’s adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own.

Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there.

You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. “Please” you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats.

Miguel left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didn’t want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask.

He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasn’t going to be short. So, better get comfortable.

“Come, sit” he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down.

You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two.

Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?.

¿Qué mierda me está pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldn’t tell, which made him anxious.

“I am sorry if I ever crossed the line” you continued, seeing that he wasn’t responding. “I-” You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so.

“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. “I just thought that,” you shrugged your shoulders. “you liked me”. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response.

Miguel’s eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldn’t believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of his–

“Or maybe it was all in my head, I don’t know” you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?

“NO!” he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. “No,” he said more calmly, collecting himself.

You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away.

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I… I am a loser” Miguel scanned your face. He couldn’t back out now.

“You don’t–” you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. ”Don’t seem like one to me” You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.

“Maybe, but I am” He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasn’t leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him.

He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked.

Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind.

Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldn’t let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldn’t look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you.

“Miguel” you whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand.”

Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldn’t express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.

“I am a loser” he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. “I don’t know how to do this.” he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his.

His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. “I’ve never done this” He whispered, inching closer. “All I know–” he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. “is that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really do”. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.

His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move.

“Miguel” you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move.

The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words weren’t needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap.

Miguel’s lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didn’t know how far he could go. Miguel’s hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered.

You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to.

“It’s okay” you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there.

You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. “I trust you.” you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence.

As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguel’s head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.

All of you.

The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more.

Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles.

As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident.

First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch.

His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his.

While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck.

Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguel’s fingers. He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate.

You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didn’t want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didn’t know if he was ready to stop.

Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasn’t already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didn’t want it to stop.

Miguel’s body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasn’t silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time.

He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didn’t want to fuck up. He needed to go slow.

Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasn’t a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling.

He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguel’s expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well.

“So..” you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguel’s lips. “Does this mean you like me too?”

Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose.

He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. “Yes” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered.

The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on.

That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguel’s head. “So… are you free tomorrow?”

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didn’t want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view.

You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didn’t know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Don’t move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.

Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldn’t remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?

Miguel couldn’t believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating.

Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didn’t like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident.

Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly weren’t there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed.

Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body.

He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen weren’t familiar. They weren’t his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces.

Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldn’t see him like this, he couldn’t lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldn’t let you witness the monster he had become.

A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door.

“Miguel?” you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. “Miguel please, I know you are in there” you pleaded, worry evident in your voice.

Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didn’t want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasn’t happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasn’t helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.

You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.

“Miguel please,” you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. “Please, I don’t know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk about–”

At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest.

Miguel’s arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldn’t bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough.

You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing.

You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly, shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch.

You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?.

“Mig?” you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves.

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms.

Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor.

“I’m sorry” you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry”.

Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didn’t want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didn’t know how to tell you what he was.

“You,” he began, not looking at you. “You did nothing wrong”

“Then why?” You shifted your body, facing towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we… I thought we were doing great.” The last words were barely audible.

“We were… we are!” he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye.

You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. “Then… why?” You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze.

Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didn’t tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you… Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break.

“I– I can’t do this” he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.

Your heart broke. You didn’t understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time.

“Shhh it’s okay” you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway.

Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you.

You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of ‘I’m sorrys’ and something along the lines of monster. You didn’t know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay.

After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.

For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldn’t leave him.

Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened.

“Miguel! Your eyes” You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further.

“I know, that’s part of the problem”

“What happened?!”

Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you weren’t in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable.

You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout “Freak!” and storm out.

You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified.

“Miguel” you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought.

You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force.

“OUCH!”

“How dare you!?” you shouted. “Do you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!” You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!” You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didn’t know if they were for his ears or for yours.

“I thought… well, maybe you would call me a monster and leave” He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed.

That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him.

“Leave?” you whispered in disbelief. “Leave?” You repeated slightly louder. “In what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and I–”

“You love me?” Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head.

You froze in place too, realising what you had just said.

“I–” you gulped. “I do. I love you”

Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply.

“I love you too.” he sighed. “Te amo” He pressed his forehead against yours.

You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?”

“Si mi vida. Perdón” He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms.

“I love you” you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.

Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldn’t wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didn’t have a clue of what was going to go down.

Yes, he had done research. But that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn aren’t realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite.

The end of the work day couldn’t come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.

Miguel’s leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most.

“It’s okay Mig. We don’t have to–”

“No!” he cut you off, way too eager. “I want to.”

“Okay” you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home.

As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguel’s lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his.

He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed.

His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguel’s hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes” Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together.

The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didn’t care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguel’s hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties.

Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you.

Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.

“Amoor” he grunted.

You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took.

You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.

You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.

You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Ye– yes” he stuttered.

You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguel’s stomach, standing proud in front of you.

You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight.

“Is it okay?” Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“It’s perfect” you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there.

Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own.

You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake.

You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head.

Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips.

“Yess, Jesus, fuck” he moaned, spurring you on.

With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh, God, yes” Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting.

You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest.

“I’m closee” Miguel choked out. “Please” he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.

You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguel’s head flew back, eyes shutting hard.

He moaned your name over and over. Strings of “Yes, right there” “Fuck” and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it.

Miguel’s chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two.

“Fuck” he mumbled. You looked so pretty.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet.

Miguel was star struck. He couldn’t believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess.

You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguel’s hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement.

His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you.

You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you.

“Condom?” You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead.

“In the drawer,” Miguel answered.

You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out.

You looked at it, and back at Miguel. “Are you really sure?”

Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didn’t think he could speak right now.

You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguel’s chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you.

You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good.

Your mouth and Miguel’s fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguel’s nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders.

You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements.

“Touch me” you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face.

One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you.

Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more.

“Please, more” He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits.

You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you.

You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguel’s chest and shoulders as support. Miguel’s hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Miguel’s sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You weren’t any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it.

“Fu-Fuck” you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you.

“Mig– I’m close” You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering.

“Me too” he said, through gritted teeth.

His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms.

“Migg” you whimpered, slumping forward.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you.

Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge.

“Beba” he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.

You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high.

You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face.

You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours.

“Hi!” You whispered, stroking his cheek.

“Hi” he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.

“I love you Mig”

“Te amo, mi vida, y siempre lo haré” (I love you, my life, and I’ll always do)

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love 🥹☺️

I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.

It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.

I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.

Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.

Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14

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mmhcs · 9 months ago

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Not Tonight

Warnings: Slightly suggestive opening, implications and mentions of trauma and traumatic events, implications of flashbacks, descriptions that may be uncomfortable, reader needs a hug (and therapy)

Finally.

You sigh, hooking your arms around Miguel’s neck.

Finally, it’s happening.

After a week of barely seeing each other, you and Miguel finally have a night to yourselves.

Originally, you had planned to spend your Friday evening alone on the couch, catching up on the new season of that TV show you religiously kept up with.

Miguel didn’t watch it (he only loosely followed along during those times that you two had watched it together) but you still couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the fact that tonight you would follow the show's plot from beginning to end without distraction, less-than-stellar remarks, or need for explanation every two seconds.

Well, at least I get to watch, you had told yourself as you settled onto the couch.

It wasn’t a perfect evening, but it would be a fun one. You only hoped that Miguel, probably still in his office, wasn’t overworking himself. Hopefully Lyla was there to bring some playfulness into the otherwise sterile environment that he would submerge himself well into next morning.

If only he was here.

You relaxed into the couch, bringing your blanket up as the theme song to your show began playing. Within a few seconds were immersed, but clearly not fully so as you jumped when you heard your front door open and the sound of keys jangling.

“Miguel?” you called, both excited and in disbelief.

Nobody else had a key to your apartment but you still had to see him to believe that it was true.

“¡Cariño!” Miguel replied, coming into view.

Before you had the chance, he, in two wide strides, walked over to the couch and scooped you into a hug.

“What are you—”

“I took the night off; I missed you.”

“Took the night off” was a generous term. Miguel had no boss; he was his own superior. His “staying late at the office” was because Miguel felt it necessary, that if he didn’t then something would happen and the “Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse” (as he called it) would collapse.

Since the two of you started dating, Miguel had gotten better at taking breaks. But you knew that you alone couldn’t bring him to ultimate healing—just like he couldn’t do the same for you.

But the two of you tried. Tried to work through you issues, not only for the other but for your respective selves. Which is why hearing Miguel say that he took the night off because he missed you made your stomach flutter with butterflies and an ache start to pool in its center.

Needless to say, you and Miguel didn’t make it past the ending of the theme song.

And that’s how you two ended up here: on your shared bed, you in Miguel’s lap and his mouth dragging itself against your neck. The warmth of his breath tickled your neck, eliciting a sharp moan from you. Your hands flew from his neck to his hair, pulling at it as if it were a life raft, your only way to keep yourself from falling back onto the bed.

Not yet.

“Yes, Miguel,” Your breath hitches as he begins to suck on your neck, concentrating on the spot between your neck and shoulder. “I like that,”

He gives a moan of response, his mouth still on your neck.

Almost unconsciously, your head tilts itself to the side in order to give him more room to work.

“Like that,” you cry out once more. “Likethatlikethatlikethatlike—”

I don’t like that.

You look down, feeling newfound warmth at your side—Miguel’s hand kneading just above your hip.

Focus. Breathe. you tell yourself.

But it’s too late; you can feel the ache in center fading and being replaced with fear and disgust.

In an attempt to preserve your arousal, you gently place a hand at the back of Miguel’s head—as if to tell him to keep going—but it’s no use. What was just been considered hot, tantalizing kisses is now just slobber, each one further cementing that cold and hollow feeling into you.

Just one night. That was all you wanted. Just one night where you could enjoy yourself and Miguel’s company.

“Baby?”

You jump, startled. Slowly, you blink once, returning your attention to the moment. When you look down, you see that Miguel’s gaze is already on you, wide eyes and furrowed brows.

You frown. How long had you been staring at the wall?

“Hey, quierda,” Miguel begins gently. He readjusts himself to his full height, also slightly shifting you so that you now reside on his thigh instead of his lap. He removes his hands from where they had previously been and uses one to cup your cheek and lift your head to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Miguel, I...” you start but you don’t know how to finish.

What do you say? What can you say? How do you begin to explain how you feel? That yes, you want him but you just couldn’t get your mind to settle down. That parts of you are still stuck in a time way before this and couldn’t seem to move on?

“I’m sorry,” you say, gently removing his hands from your face. “I just don’t feel—” you pause, taking a deep breath. Your emotions are all over the place; the last thing you need right now is tears. “—Not tonight, Miguel. Not tonight.”

“That’s okay,” Miguel wastes no time answering. “Are you hurt?”

His eyes immediately start looking you over for cuts and scratches that would need to be tended to.

In the past, you’ve discussed some of your trauma with Miguel. He didn’t know the full story—he didn’t need to—but ever since that first time you informed him, he swore that he would do whatever he could to alleviate some of your pain.

He couldn’t take it away—he knew that for a fact—but he could be there for you. Which is why he’s running through his mind now, thinking of the best way to help.

“How about a shower, yeah?” he finally suggests. “You take a shower and I’ll make dinner.”

You sigh and bite down on your lip, trying to steel yourself.

Though you and Miguel had stopped, you still feel anxious. Your heart is banging against your chest and you feel a knot growing within your throat, making your voice hoarse and strained. But those pale in comparison to what you feel mentally.

Despite being with Miguel, you don’t feel safe. You feel the overwhelming urge to hide under the covers and sob and scrub yourself raw. Your senses are on-edge, gifting you a numbing headache that pummels against your temples despite there being no danger present.

You can’t focus. You want to sleep. Forget. Wake up tomorrow when this is all over.

“A shower sounds nice,” you finally say. “But I don’t think I’m that hungry right now.”

“That’s fine,” Miguel reassures you. “You shower. I’ll be in the living room when you’re finished,”

“Alright,” You give him a small nod, willing yourself to stand and head to the bathroom.

As you go through the motions, you can’t help but steal glance at your body every couple of minutes.

You don’t know how to feel. You don’t know what you’re feeling. A part of you feels scared. Scared because you’re trying so hard not to let your mind go to where your body has seemingly returned. Another part of you feels frustrated. You want Miguel—or at least you wanted him—but you...You didn’t feel fully present. It’s like no matter how hard you tried to be present in the moment, you just couldn’t. You can’t move everything out of your mind. Not by yourself, not with Miguel—hell, sometimes not even while you sleep.

You sigh, running the loofah along your arm again.

Great, another thing to mention in therapy.

You have to be patient with yourself. That was a fact that you learned a long time ago. But sometimes—sometimes it’s so frustrating that it brings tears to your eyes. You feel like a lost cause. Some days you even wonder if you’ll ever be able to feel “normal” again. To be able to relax and let go. To have both your mind and body be on the same page.

The uncertainty of it all brings tears to your eyes and they fall in fat goblets, mixing with the show water as they trickle down the drain.

An hour later, you pad into the living room wearing a pair of loose sweatpants, a light shirt, and the ends of your hair slightly damp.

“Hey,” Miguel turns from the sink to the kitchen counter, turning off the faucet. You look around the kitchen with furrowed brows, hoping that he really didn’t cook anything because you don’t think that you have much of an appetite at all now.

“I made some agua de fresa”, Miguel explains, pointing to the living room. “I know you said you don’t have much appetite but just in case you feel dehydrated, it’s there.”

You look, seeing two glasses of agua de fresa and the TV paused on the first few minutes of your show from earlier. On the couch is your favorite blanket and slightly more pillows than there were earlier.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your throat raw with emotion.

Miguel simply nods, his eyes still scanning your face. “If there’s anything you need—or anything you want—please, just tell me.”

Minutes later, you and Miguel find yourselves on the couch, blanket draped over your laps and a glass of agua de fresa in your hand. The blanket acts as a tether between the two of you—close enough for the two of you to feel each other’s warmth but not close enough that you were on top of each other, a sensation that you couldn’t handle right now.

“...Ay Dios mío, why would he do that?” Miguel frowns, angrily pointing to the TV. “I swear, I don’t know how can watch this show so calmly; some people are really stupid,”

For the first time tonight, you giggle and you feel some of the tension from earlier dissipate. You smile down at your stomach, as if it would return the gesture.

Patience, you remind yourself.

It most definitely hasn’t been a perfect night but it’s starting to get better. And, for the first time in a long time, you feel yourself relaxing a bit, getting consumed by the moment.

As you look around you, you can only sigh in relief.

In due time. Maybe not soon, but you’re on your way. In due time.

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for reading. Admittedly, this fic was a little personal and I just wanted to clarify that I know this isn’t everybody's experience or way or handling things but it is mine so that’s what I went off of.

To everyone in a similar situation: It will be okay. Maybe not now but one day it will. Please keep going and take care of yourselves.

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esmedelacroix · 1 year ago

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Romeo e Giulietta[a mafia love story] pt.1

mafioso!miguel x f!mafioso!reader 🂱

cw: suggestive

first part | miguel masterlist

prev ←→ next

The prevailing belief was that once Antonio Romano was too old, the Romano family's dominion over the Italian Mafia would end. Although he had a daughter, his wife had died during childbirth, so he had no son to take over. His daughter didn't take 'no' for an answer when it came to taking over the Mafia. With extensive training, she finally became the leader of the Mafia after her father's retirement...

—

You're the most powerful woman in all of Italy. Everyone assumed you couldn't be as good of a Mafioso as your father. But, they were so wrong; you are pretty reckless and never have a plan. But your carefree attitude only added more fun to your line of work.

You have a few rules in your familia. Never go out unarmed. Never be transparent about your affiliation. Don't let others read you. Blood is thicker than water. Never trust the O'Haras.

Another rule that could easily be added is: don't ever mention the head of the O'Hara Family Mafia, Miguel O'Hara. You hate each other so much, but anyone would think that, right? Your family feud dates back centuries, it's so old that no one really remembers why you're supposed to hate each other in the first place. But that doesn't matter because you do. Anytime your families have to meet to make a negotiation, you would always get into heated arguments with one another and request privacy.

When you were in private, you would argue even more. Your bodyguards would hear vases and glasses shatter onto the floor. They wondered how fostering so much hate for a single person was possible.

If only they knew what was happening in there...

Miguel would slide everything off the table to place you on it as he trailed wet hot kisses down your neck, leaving marks in areas only the two of you could see. If only they knew how hard you tried to stay quiet when Miguel had your legs spread across the table. You would resort to pulling at tufts of his hair as he feasted between your legs.

No one would ever really know the true nature of the intimate looks you exchanged when no one was looking, and they would most certainly never know that when Miguel claimed to be bringing women home from the club, it was really their biggest competitor in the Italian mafia scene in his room.

But you hate each other so much...

—

You woke up to the sun beaming through the floor-to-ceiling window that gave a beautiful view of the city. You had gotten so used to waking up in Miguel's bed. That morning you had a breakfast with your father that started two hours ago. You had to hurry and sneak out. You slowly got out of bed, trying not to wake him. Your attempts were useless, though, because, in a matter of seconds, you felt his big warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto the bed with your back flush against his chest.

"Per favore[please], Miguel, I have a hectic morning," she said as she removed his hands from around her waist and got out of bed to change back into her clothes.

His lazy eyes watched you as you walked around the room naked, gathering all your clothes from the night before putting your pants on. He was mesmerized by everything you did, even when you've been together for eight years.

He slowly crept behind you when you were about to put your blouse on and buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can you just stay for five more minutes? What are you so busy doing today?" he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder, his voice still raspy; if you had no self-control, you would have folded from his voice alone.

"Well, I'm too busy kicking your ass all day as usual," you replied as you put your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror. He rolled his eyes playfully, accepting defeat.

"Please, baby, just five minutes," he said lowly in her ear, knowing the effect he had on you. He slowly started to trail kisses down your neck. You leaned into him and hummed in pleasure, tilting your head back into his shoulder to give more access to your neck. You heard your phone buzz snapping you out of the trance he put you in.

"Mio amato[My love], seriously, I have to go, so help me sneak out of here," you said eagerly.

"Yes, ma'am," he sighed as he looked around the hallway to confirm that no one would see you; but he was always armed, just in case.

You successfully snuck to the back door without running into anyone. You draped your arms around the nape of Miguel's neck and kissed him.

"Will I be seeing you at the charity event tonight?" you asked hopefully.

"Of course, sweet stuff; now get out of here," he joked. You rolled your eyes and blew him a kiss. The moment you turned away, he landed a firm smack on your ass, causing you to yelp, turn around and shake your head at him.

"Watch it," she warned playfully before disappearing into the streets.

—

You opened your front door hoping that your father would be off at the range or playing polo with friends despite you missing breakfast plans.

"Giulietta Bianca Romano," you heard your father's stern voice call from the living room couch. you were almost fully up the stairs when he caught you trying to sneak back in. Shit.

. . .

→ next part

taglist: @dei-drei @starrygetou @decentsoupperson

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codenameredkrystalmatrix · 9 months ago

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One of Those Nights: Miguel O'Hara x (Fem!)Reader

♡‧₊˚synopsis:

Fluff fic featuring Miggy!

♡‧₊˚word count:

933

♡‧₊˚genres:

domestic fluff

Huh...no wonder you'd been feeling so down. The place was a mess. Between the increased anomaly activity, and the ensuing stress at the Spider Society, you hadn't gotten to deep-clean in an embarrassingly long time. You were home, so there was no time like the present to correct that. Popping in your earbuds, you got to work scrubbing, disinfecting and organizing the place until it sparkled. You barely even noticed the time until the text got harder to read on your phone and you were forced to look up. The stars barely peeked out from behind the clouds of a dark night's sky.

Leaning on the windowsill, you rested your muscles and appreciated the cool air. Your skin was a bit sticky from all your running about the house, so the combination gave you goosebumps. But you were contented. A ballad drifted through your ears and into your mind, the singer whispering of woodlands where fairies sailed down old logs after the rain. Fantastical, yes. But you loved to dream, if even for only a little while.

You were finished for the day, so you took a shower and decided on reading before bed. Much to your surprise, you heard a portal opening long before ungodly hours. Miguel was back already?

His muscular figure was in the living room when you returned, suit deactivating as he shook his sweaty curls. When your lover turned to you, the crimson frustration in his eyes deepened to relieved mahogany.

"Ah, mi tesoro."

That was all the warning you received before he pulled you into a tight hug. Gentle nips and kisses blessed your neck and cheeks, making you giggle. "Migs, I showered already!"

"Looks like you'll have to do that again. We can go together to save time."

"How convenient."

"Mhm. I'm a genius."

His hands wandered up your shirt, caressing your stomach, sides and back. You didn't want to deny him when he was in such a tender mood, but...

"Bathtime, mister-now that you've made us both stinky."

"We're going, we're going..."

...

......

.........

"Mig?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you...fall asleep standing up?"

"No."

"Right. I definitely believe that. C'mon."

Once the water was running, you squeezed out some body wash and worked it into his skin. "Hitting the right spot?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get to eat today?"

"Mhm."

He smiled, remembering how terrible he'd been at that before you became insistent. He felt so much more clear-minded and energetic. You were always so good to him- his dear, dear sweetheart. Miguel's heart fluttered as he remembered the meals you prepared together, and his surprise at finding kind little notes in the lunch containers upon opening them. His subsequent happiness made the meals ten times better. Honestly, you were almost too much for him. For now, he'd like to enjoy the feeling of your skin under his hands. "May I wash you now?"

You beamed, a little flushed at the prospect. "Yes."

He offered you a helping hand once finished, tenderly thumbing it until you were outside. The cool of the bedroom with Miguel's heat right beside you made for a comforting sensation. As the rains began again, you turned on the amber side lamp to the left of the bed. Its warm light made for an inviting atmosphere. The only thing that would make it better, in your eyes, would be a few sweet treats.

"Want to finish the brownies?"

"Yes- definitely."

You laughed at his enthusiasm. Putting on one of his shirts, you headed down, reheated the container and returned to his arms with your prizes.

When he had a taste, it was almost as though you could see Miguel's eyes light up. Compared to when you'd met a few years ago, where he'd barely survive off of stale pre-made food, he'd come such a long way.

Selecting one, you had a bite and sighed as their soft, chocolatey goodness hit your tongue. "You know, I think these get better and better the more you eat them. Want one more?"

He nodded. But, instead of handing him the container, you held the brownie near his mouth. "Open up!"

Smirking, he obeyed, but took much longer than necessary to release your fingers.

"Hey! No eating me!"

You heard something like 'I never saw that mentioned in the contract.' and rolled your eyes. Taking your fingers out of his mouth, you flicked his cheek, washed your hands and curled up facing away from him to resume reading.

Placing his arm over you to spoon, Miguel nudged his nose against your shoulder. "'His rock-hard abs rippled in the Texan sunlight', eh?"

Shoot- he'd been reading with you? "Uuuhh..."

"Didn't know you were into cowboys, sweetheart. I'll buy us a ranch."

"Miguel! It's just a book! Let me have a little fantasy, ok?!"

You felt him shift, gliding his lips up to your neck as he whispered into it. "Wanna take me for a ride, l'il lady?"

You snorted, turning away as your giggles got the better of you. "Your accent is terrible!"

"Yeah? You try!"

"No!"

"Well then mine's better!"

"That's not how it works!"

He blew raspberries on your cheek, making you laugh outright. Past your tears of joy, you caught his smile. And when they cleared, you looked into loving, deep brown eyes that caught just a twinge of gold from the lamplight.

"Thank you for cleaning, mi alma. That and…everything you've done for me."

"You're welcome, Miguel. Let's brush our teeth and get some sleep."

And, once done, you both could at last enjoy the peace of drifting off in your lover's arms.

Author's Notes:

I've wanted to write simpler, more wholesome fics. I hope you like it!

♡‧₊˚translations:

Ah, mi tesoro- Oh, my treasure mi alma- My soul

♡‧₊˚divider:

@strangergraphics

♡‧₊˚kaomojis:

@dientesdeporcelana @whoisyen

#atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o hara #miguel o hara fluff #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o hara x y/n

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scaleniusrm · 3 months ago

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I have a little headcanon for Miguel that's been on my mind for a long time and I thought it would be a good idea to share it :)

So, before all of that spiderman stuff...

Miguel used to work on alchemax and with their tight schedules and due dates, he had to drink a lot of coffee to stay awake. He didn't like it in the beginning, never really was a fan of the drink, but since he needed the damn thing, he gave up and just accepted and... he actually started to enjoy it.

He'd go to little cafes when he could and would try all of the different types of coffee that they had. Latte, espresso, capuccino, macchiato, afogado, is that mocha? he really started loving it.

But then the spiderman thing happened

But what coffee has to do with any of this? Well, there's a research that says that spiders get drunk on coffee/caffeine and since Miguel's DNA was drastically changed to spider like, when he tried getting a hold of his routine again.. oh poor guy would be all wobbly trying to get some work done. It took him a little while to figure it out that the reason why he got unusually happy during work was because of his dear coffee.

When he figured it out he really didn't want to let go of it, but work calls and now he has to power through it.

But don't tell anybody that, sometimes, in the middle of the night, he sneaks up into the spider society's kitchen and makes a lot of coffee for himself, it's his guilty pleasure. Lyla pretends to be offline but has a lot of pictures and videos to make fun of him when they're arguing.

I need to draw wobbly Miguel :(

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099

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theroseceleste · 6 months ago

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Birthday Commission - Toxic Love

@faretheeoscar very kindly did me some adorable artwork for my birthday, so when her birthday came around, I knew I had to write something for her. She gave me a little head canon prompt between her OC, Alexa, and Miguel and it was absolutely so much fun to write!

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

Minors DNI

Our loveable Spider Society leader is a naughty boy. Enjoys causing problems for Alexa, a spider person who helps out in HQ, and her boyfriend (a version of Peter from a different universe). When the couple fight, he reaps the benefits.

Word count - 3046

Contains - Descriptions of a toxic relationship. Smut - penetrative sex

If you enjoy this work, please consider liking, commenting and re-blogging. Many thanks. xx

(art provided to me by @faretheeoscar but masterfully created by Roy - @ SpicyKfcChicken on Twitter)

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s the point, Alexa?” a hologram of Peter Parker from Earth-120703 yells at his on-off girlfriend, Alexa as she talks to him through her interdimensional watch. Once again, their love for each other is being severely tested by what Alexa thinks is the overzealous ban on travelling around the multiverse administered by Miguel.

Tearful brown eyes stare back at the orange image of Peter, her brows furrowed with frustration and heartache. “No, Peter, we can… we can make this work, I-”

“No! I’m tired of this. The back and forth. The ups and downs - although it’s more downs than ups, at this rate,” Peter retorts angrily, although there’s more pain in his voice than he wants to let on.

Alexa shakes her head furiously, unable to accept that yet again another breakup between them is happening. It’s not fair. None of this is fair.

“Either get that control-freak Miguel to lift that stupid ban, or we’re done. I can’t do this any more,” the hologram vanishes, leaving Alexa in a shocked silence. Her manic gaze searches her private quarters for something to throw with frustrated anger.

Both Alexa and Peter know that Miguel won’t ever lift the ban. So in reality, his own ultimatum will only ever have one painful and upsetting outcome. God, that man makes her so angry. Her fingers clench as she considers wringing Miguel’s neck… That seems like a perfect idea... Why take her frustrations out on an inanimate object when she can do it to the source of her emotional turmoil instead?

All rational thinking has left the building as she storms through HQ with a face like thunder. White and light blue streaks across walkways as she weaves speedily between her countless multiversal counterparts, heading to the lab, where she bets any money that’s where he’ll be.

After ignoring several groups of Peters who wave at her as she passes, she approaches Miguel’s usual hideout.

“Whatcha doin’?” asks a female voice as a little hologram of a woman, positioned like she is lying on her stomach, appears next to Alexa, striding through the long corridor.

“Going to give Miguel a piece of my mind,” the youthful-looking woman growls angrily, fists still clenched. The closer she gets to the lab, more of her body feels tense. Her shoulders are raised and her heart pounds within her chest.

“Oh boy… the usual?” the hologram called Lyla asks as her position changes immediately to standing after the spider person’s answer.

“Yep,” Alexa snaps as she pushes through the door to Miguel’s lab. “Lock the door, Lyla.”

The floating AI salutes and fizzles away before activating the lock on all access points to the lab.

The Spider Society leader, a six-foot-nine-inch man, sits at a desk, working away on a device he has been developing. He sits in silence, so completely fixated on his work that he doesn’t even notice Alexa storming across the vast, cavernous workspace.

As he reaches for a screwdriver, Alexa fires a web at it and yanks it back, causing his large blue and red hand to clasp around nothing but air. The clattering sound of the tool makes him turn his head towards her. He stands up immediately, turning his body to face the Spider Society member.

“Alexa-“

“Shut up,” she growls as she shoves at him, shunting him against his desk, causing everything to wobble upon impact.

Miguel takes a step away before she tries again, hands raised placatingly. “Que pasa?” he manages to blurt out as he dodges another attempt of a shove.

“You know what,” Alexa retorts with a snap. The society leader’s heart pounds with anticipation. He does know, and he can’t wait for what it leads to.

“Chiquita, you know why I can’t lift the-“ he gets shoved again, but he lets it happen while his hands grasp at Alexa’s wrists, however she pulls back before he can.

“Don’t call me that,” she demands as she advances on Miguel again. She’s far too angry for any cute pet names - besides, they’re coming from the wrong man.

Finally, a series of flying fists barrage Miguel as a tearful Alexa finally explodes. Both of her clenched hands strike his broad and well defined chest.

“Lift that ban, or I swear to God I’ll-“

The towering leader’s arms wrap around her tightly, restricting her movements. He turns her so his front is pressed against her back as he leans down and whispers hotly into her ear. “Or you’ll what, chiquita?”

The sensation of his breath caressing the side of her face, mixed in with his proximity and restrictive grip on her, makes her pause and try very hard not to moan.

She hates him for the situation he’s put her in. His actions frustrates her and breaks her heart almost on a day-to-day basis because she can’t see the man she loves. While Miguel’s excuse is mostly valid, she knows there’s another agenda for keeping her close, under his watchful gaze. And once again, she’s fallen into his trap.

His arms snake around her body, holding her diagonally across her chest as well as her stomach. His left hand grips her right shoulder, while his right hand takes her left hip.

As her body moulds against his, she can feel his arousal making its presence known by throbbing against her rear.

Miguel’s hand resting on Alexa’s hip presses her against him more as he starts to grind himself into her. “Mhmm… but chiquita, you always enjoy this bit, don’t you?” he thrusts his hips again and groans into her ear, finally eliciting a moan from her parted lips. “Sí, that’s it, mi amor. Make those pretty noises for me.”

Alexa jabs her elbow into Miguel’s ribs, procuring a grunt to vibrate against her cheek. She can’t lose sight of her purpose for storming into the lab. Not again.

“That’s it. Take your frustrations out on me. I love it when you do. It’s so rewarding for the both of us,” he continues to encourage her, his words punctuated with a few more grinds against the groove of her backside.

What he’s doing doesn’t even make her feel good, but the mere fact that he’s doing it makes her hot - not just under her suit, but under her skin. Her core pulses wildly as she hears yet another deep moan against her ear.

“Tócate por mi,” (touch yourself, for me) he mumbles softly as his hands squeeze her in his grip.

Obediently, her hand slowly goes between her legs, her dainty fingers finding her sensitive bud through her suit. As she runs her digits in tight circles around her clit, she starts to moan louder. Her need increases, but so does her frustration.

“Good girl,” he growls as he grinds, before letting out a sudden grunt. “Ay coño!” his hip movements still for a moment. “This feels so good; I nearly came.”

Alexa whimpers with mounting need before she makes another desperate plea. “Miguel, please lift the ban-“

“No.”

Anger spikes again, momentarily breaking her out of her climbing arousal. In a sudden movement, she spins to face him. “Hijo de puta!” she spits as her seething brown eyes lock onto his red ones.

His arms tighten around her back, sealing her against him. He can feel the anger in her body and can practically taste the venom in the air coming from her beautiful lips.

There is now an unignorable throb against her stomach and an intense heat coming from the prominent bulge under his suit.

“Now, now, chiquita,” he coos as his right hand glides down her left ass cheek before gripping the underside of her hamstring and pulling her leg up so it hitches over his right hip. With a gentle lift, he has her pinned against his body, and her legs wrapped around his waist. And now the hypnotic throbbing is pressed against her entrance, but separated from one another by his and her suits.

“That’s better, mi amor,” he continues with a soft voice, edging between soothing and teasing.

Her expression is still etched with anger, but it’s slowly slipping away with his charm and the use of his body.

“Do you have anything else to get off your chest?” he asks as his large hand squeezes under her leg again, the tips of his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh of her thighs. “Or shall we both skip to the bit you know you enjoy?”

She slaps him across the cheek; not too hard, but enough to make his head jolt to the side as a grunt escapes his throat. His red eyes lock back onto Alexa as he bites his lower lip, displaying the tip of a fang. “You’re getting feistier… but I deserved that,” he grins.

Alexa lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. Her lips crash into his in a passionate and anger-fuelled kiss. Air hisses through their noses as the pair of them kiss, nip and suck on each other’s lips.

The hand that struck Miguel’s face slides into his hair, gripping it tightly as he does the same to her.

His actions are passionate and possessive while hers feel like she still has some anger to vent out of her system. She kisses harder - her bites are sharper and her grip is tighter, but he can take it. In fact, he likes it and welcomes it.

Miguel begins his grinding again, this time his efforts will directly contribute to making her feel good and most likely take her mind off Peter temporarily. He smiles proudly against her lips knowing her ban on travelling to Earth-120703 means Peter doesn’t get any action with his girlfriend, while Miguel gets it all. It’s glorious, satisfying and downright pleasurable.

Needy moans start to enter Miguel’s mouth, coming from Alexa’s lips. His grinding mixing in with their heated kiss is increasingly turning her on and driving her wild. She hates him, but it feels so good taking her frustrations out on him during passionate, verging on angry sex.

His left hand starts to unzip the back of her suit. All this teasing and her pent-up energy is making him impatient for her. He has been hoping Alexa and Peter would have another falling out as he has been desiring to fill her and feel her tight walls stretching around him once again.

The zip travels lower down her back, exposing her beautiful skin to his fleeting touches as he pulls it even further. She shivers in his grip and goosebumps rise on her flesh.

Their passionate kiss has not stopped for one second since it started. Her arms come free from the suit, followed by her gorgeously plump breasts that he can never get enough of.

Reluctantly, he gestures for her to release her grip on him with her legs in order to get the rest of the suit off. He often considers giving her a coded suit like his so it can fade away with ease and they can get down to business much quicker.

Finally that suit is off, and she’s back in his arms again. He carries her to the desk he was working on, and sits down on the chair with her on his lap.

His suit dissolves away, revealing his mouth-wateringly toned body and allowing them to feel each other’s skin properly, producing a moan from both of them.

Alexa gazes down at him, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Her legs straddle his lap as she watches him run his fist up and down his hardened shaft.

It’s sad that she knows Miguel’s body far more intimately than Peter’s. But she knows the sex she has with him is fulfilling.

“Ride me, chiquita. Ride me until you’re all spent,” he whispers, encouraging her to take her place over his cock.

Leaning further back in his chair, he slides his hips further forward, making it easier for her to get into position.

Long, tanned fingers reach upwards to tease her sensitive folds and to test them. She’s certainly ready as the tips of his fingers practically slide into her entrance. He loves how wet she gets for him.

Gazing up at her, he smirks as he watches her bite her lip at his touch between her legs. Her hands resting on his broad shoulders squeeze his muscles as she feels another wave of arousal drench his fingers.

“So wet… So ready for me…” he murmurs as he pulls his digits out and uses her arousal to coat his member, before directing her hips right above it. “Go on. Work out some of your frustration on that cock, chiquita.”

Oh, how she’d love to wipe that smirk off his face. Ride him hard until he begs her to stop, or the chair breaks. The thought of seeing him whimper as she rises and falls on him makes her even wetter.

With the help of his hands, he guides her down onto him. Her arousal ensures he glides in easily. Her breath hitches, which is a sight and sound he always loves to witness. Her body’s initial reaction to him invading her will never get old.

As he’s enjoying her sinking down onto him, she takes him by surprise by stopping, rising up until the tip nearly pops out of her heat, and then comes crashing down, burying him to the hilt.

“FUCK!” he shouts and grips the sides of his chair.

Alexa’s face was full of determination to ride him within an inch of his life. Her anger is still evident and desperate to be released before she goes insane.

The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air, mixing in with her moans and his grunts.

He fills her completely, making her begin to wonder how Peter would compare. But the thought hurts too much. To forget her on-off boyfriend temporarily, she rides harder and faster.

Large hands easily cup her breasts as he watches the sexy display before him. She has never bounced on his cock like this before, but he hopes she’ll do it again. He loves how hard and fast she’s going, and hearing her enjoy the way she’s riding him is pure perfection.

Miguel’s fingers pinch her nipples to see how she’ll react. She groans and tips her head back as she drops down on him harder. Then, he introduces a rolling motion between his fingers and thumbs which melts her even more.

The longer this continues, he notices her noises are sounding softer. All of her aggression is leaving her and she’s now simply riding him out of enjoyment. He feels slightly relieved as for a brief moment he thought he heard unhealthy creaking sounds coming from his chair.

To add to her pleasure, he releases one breast and brings his thumb to her clit as she continues to bounce on him. The pad of his digit runs tight and warm circles around it, making her moan more desperately as they both feel her tightening up inside.

“Come for me, chiquita. Let it all go for me,” he encourages her, feeling excited to experience her clenching on his member.

It doesn’t take much convincing for her to unravel. The entire lab fills with her squeals as she climaxes hard all over his cock. She clenched and pulses around his thick length filling her to capacity.

He pulls her close, her glistening, slightly sweaty skin sticks to his, emphasising just how hard she worked for that delightful orgasm. “Good girl,” he praises her as he strokes her curly brown hair. “Now it’s my turn,” he growls as he stands, lifting her up with him.

Miguel cradles her effortlessly with one arm as he swipes everything he was working on earlier off his desk, sending everything crashing to the floor. In his haste, he places her down unceremoniously on the table. He hears a slight “ooof” as she thuds against it.

A charming smile but laced with a bit of danger crosses his face as he enters her suddenly.

“M-Miguel!” Alexa squeals as she arches her back against the cold hard surface.

He smirks as he slams into her in a punishing rhythm, the desk now creaking unhealthily under his efforts. “Time to vent my frustrations, now,” he grunts as he thrusts harder. His hands grab the back of Alexa’s knees and push them as far back as he can.

“When will you realise that no matter how much you ask- Ffuuuck…” he groans with mounting pleasure. “The answer will always be no. Hmmmm…” Miguel screws his eyes shut as he bares his fangs.

Anger spikes in Alexa once more, but the near orgasmic look on his face distracts her.

“Why don’t you just accept that and have me all. The. Time. Instead?” Each word is punctuated with hard, punishing thrusts which meet with her howls.

“Tócate por mi, chiquita,” (touch yourself for me) he orders her, hoping to get one more climax out of her before he is done.

While one hand grips onto the edge of the table, her other hand makes its way to her sensitive bud. Miguel watches in delight as she obeys his command.

“Good girl,” he coos as he spreads her legs wider. “Fuck, you’re so tight!”

Another tightening sensation builds within her as she continues to touch herself and feel the head of his cock tease her g-spot. Her mewls become desperate as she gets closer and closer.

“That’s it, chiquita. Release everything you’ve got,” he growls as he nears his climax.

Alexa’s body writhes uncontrollably as she comes undone for the second time. Her screams and her body’s reaction to her orgasm generates a grin full of pride on his face.

“Sí, sí…” he grunts. “That’s it. Only I can give you the pleasure you need. You don’t need anyone else, mi amor!” Miguel’s body tenses at the end of his sentence as he explodes inside her. His seed spilling from his slit and filling her insides. “Fuck!”

He leans over her and rests his weight on his arms on either side. “You can either continue with your delusion that you and Peter can be together,” he pauses to catch his breath and nuzzle his sweaty face into hers. “Or you accept the truth and have me whenever, wherever you desire.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading Toxic Love. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. I'm pleased to say that the birthday girl loved it too.

Buy me a coffee! (And gain access to my discord)

If you wish to follow me on Twitter, please click on the link below.

#fanfic #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #commisions open #smut #oc x character #toxic relationship #miguel o hara fanfic #fanfiction

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whateveryouiguess · 2 years ago

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idk if you take requests but!! i think reader and miguel getting a pet together would be super cute :> i wanna see mr anger issues calm down for once in his life cause of a cute puppy or something

HIII i’m still deciding if i wanna take requests but. i couldn’t NOT do this. like cmon. hope this does the trick anon 🫶🏼

el perro dinero.

Also known as: Miggy O’ Hara and his inability to tell you no ❤️

Pairing: Miguel O’ Hara x Reader

Word Count: abt 1.5k

Warnings: None :) just lots n lots of fluff, maybe improper grammar on the spanish (im not fluent yet, sorry native speakers. feel free to critique me!!!) Not beta’d, I tried to keep this one gender neutral, I don’t think I used any pronouns but if Y/N throws you off, I apologize :)

Sunday Afternoon.

“Absolutely not.” He didn’t even need a minute to think before the words left his lips.

“Miguel!” You draw out the syllables of his name in a whiny response. It was a decent question, honestly: the two of you had been together for a steady two years, going on three, and having just moved in together, the topic of “next steps” in your relationship was pretty fair game! Miguel had mentioned wanting a family before—very vaguely, but it was something you two had discussed—and it seemed like the present was a good time to make those kind of choices together. Despite his hope for your future together, he had been vehemently against the idea since you first brought it up, but you couldn’t understand why! Maybe he’d had bad experiences in the past, or he just wasn’t that kind of person? Or maybe he had an allergy you’d never heard about?

“Amor, we can not get a dog.” He slices open the tape seal of the box in front of him, leaning his elbows against the countertop as he unpacks it. “We’ve just moved in, rent here is already ludicrous…” he rambles as he unpacks thin stemmed wine glasses from the neatly packed box. You sit across from him at the bar, admiring the view of his messy hair and black wife beater against his amber skin, cheeks rosy from all the back and forth from moving vans. The love of your life—too stubborn to use a dolly, like you suggested—stacking empty boxes on the kitchen floor and using words like “ludicrous” to describe the best idea you’ve ever had. “Neither of us are home often enough to take care of a puppy-“

“We don’t have to get a puppy!” You suggest enthusiastically. He quirks an eyebrow and fights a smile at your excitement. “We’ll adopt a grown dog, maybe we’ll find one who’s already trained. You know, a lot of people forfeit perfectly behaved dogs just because they-“

“Amor.” He walks around the kitchen island to ground your shoulders with two big hands. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words are stolen by the pang in his heart at the disappointment in your eyes. The same eyes he’d spend hours gazing into without a care in the world, hearts full and minds at ease. The hopeful eyes he’d have to let down easy.

“We’re not…Not right now, honey.” His voice is kind and quiet, but to the point. “I’m sorry.” He squeezes your shoulders tightly as you sigh in disappointment. Walking back to his station by the sink, he slides a few glasses into the kitchen cabinet and continues speaking. “Possibly in a few months, if we’re stable enough and we have the time-“

“Really?” Your tone perks up immediately. His back shakes a bit, laughing at your excitement.

“Possibly. It’s possible. Don’t make any plans just yet.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head, walking towards your shared bedroom. “Póngase sus zapatos,” he pulls a light jacket on over his shoulders, sliding a pair of sunglasses onto the neckline of his tank top. “Let’s go find some lunch.”

————————————————————————

Friday Evening.

Since moving in with you, Miguel has quickly grown fond of the ends of his days. Taking his new route to his new home, hopping the steps up to the third floor two at a time. Mind exhausted from a long day at work, heart pulling his body through the hall to you, like a Looney Tune drawn euphorically to a pie in a window. The sound of the key twisting the lock mechanism is like a Pavlov bell, and before he’s even opened the door, he knows the treat of your arms is waiting for him behind it. This time, however, when he swings the mahogany door open, he’s not flooded with the soothing scent of your favorite candle, or pulled into your sweet embrace: he’s greeted with an empty living room, and darkness.

“Amor?” He calls out, toeing off his loafers at the door, placing his jacket over the back of the sofa. “Estás en casa?” He says quieter, padding through the house in search of you. All is quiet in the apartment until he reaches the shallow hall leading to your bedroom. His blood freezes at the faint sound of crying, high pitched and seemingly pained. Bounding to the door, footsteps heavy and shaken, he swings open the bedroom door to find you hunched over on the floor, and he can only imagine the worst has happened. Although, now that he’s closer the sound of the crying, its much more high pitched than he knows your voice to sound. When he hears you mumbling over the crying, he knows he’s severely misunderstood the situation.

“Honey?” he calls quietly. Your whip your neck around and see him standing in the doorway, concerned and disheveled in his work clothes. The sight of your red face kills him, you look as though you’ve been crying. His eyes travel to your lap and finds the source of all the noise, and his tightly knit eyebrows unravel in realization. In your lap sits a small, shivering puppy, whining as you try to wipe its eyes clean with a wet rag.

“I—I didn’t…” you stutter. With the conversation you two had been having a few days prior, you didn’t want it to seem like you’d gone against the decision you both had made . Miguel figured from the size of the pup that he couldn’t have been even a month old, and was almost certainly betrayed on the side of the road somewhere. On the streets at that age, it would’ve either been left for dead or found by someone soft hearted enough to give them a second chance. “He was all alone, he was hurt,” you sniffle as Miguel kneels beside you. “I know you said no, and I’m sorry, but I…” the desperation in your eyes is enough to make him wish he’d never denied you. “I couldn’t just leave him there.” You’ve started to cry, really cry, and even with the stress of the situation, he can’t help but curl his arms around your shoulders and hold you as tightly to him as he can. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

“Hey, no, amor. None of that.” Miguel rubs his palms up and down your arms to soothe you, careful to avoid the sad babe between your legs. “It’s…it’ll be okay. Alright? It’s okay.” He lets go of you and leans back to get a good look at the puppy. He was a little thing, no doubt the runt of his litter, but still a bit fluffy. His fur was matted and dark, the spots you’d wiped clean a few shades of brown lighter than the rest of him. Even with his staunch, no dog policy, the puppy’s floppy ears and pointed nose pulled gently on his heart strings. she watches intently as you siphon water into the little guys mouth, dabbing a drop onto your finger, then letting him lick it off. Miguel couldn’t help but smile at how the little thing preened under your touch, hoisting itself up into the palm of one of your hands, gathering more of your warmth. The love that radiates from your eyes is almost motherly, and he knows it’s love at first sight for you two. Leave it to his lover to help the lonely pup—a helpless wret in their time of need, no home to return to and no means to make anew. Left behind, forgotten, just in need of a little love. Sounds familiar, Miguel thinks to himself. The puppy wanders across your leg towards Miguel’s territory, and as soon as he presses a small paw onto his thigh, a switch is flipped for him, his hand shooting out to help the puppy climb. Mierda. He’s silent as he scoops the baby up with one hand, inspecting it like a broken package. The sweet little eyes peering back at him dismiss the perma-scowl on his face.

“He kinda looks like you, Mig.” You observe humorously, your perception of the strong, frightening man as “cute” still baffling to him. He scoffs out a laugh and sighs, gaze never leaving the puppy wriggling in his hands.

“How much is pet rent?” He says dryly. You snap your head towards him, a new hope awakened in your eyes. He pretends not to see it, smug as always.

“Are we keeping him?” You ask timidly. Miguel sets the dog back down between your legs, it’s stubby little tail wagging ferociously, shaking his entire rear, as if in understanding. Miguel smiles slightly as he repeats himself.

“How much is pet rent?”

THIS WAS FUNNN 🤭🤭 I imagined the puppy to be a norwegian elk hound but if you imagined something else, lmk in the comments!! im curious lol :)

#miguel is 1000% that dad that didn’t want that dog at first but is absolutely smitten within two weeks of having it #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #spiderman #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara fluff #miguel o’ hara fluff

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monarchberrysblog · 9 months ago

Text

DEARLY BELOVED

a short mini drabble that was HEAVILY inspired by a tik tok and it sparked the creative juices. (think of vampire! miguel while reading if you like) this might flop as this isn't a smut and this is a drabble that came to mind after seeing a silly tik tok

hope you all enjoy this — dia 🪻

A muse — Defined as a person or personified force that is the source of inspiration for a creative artist, it feels like a vexation for the man living in the dark corners of the castle where he called his home. The strong pull of this magnet, this attraction, weighed his cold heart down to the earth’s core. A weight on his chest. A feeling that should have vanished over the last century. But it abides and becomes middling.

Nonetheless, he didn't overlook it.

His warm palms rub your back in a slow, gentle action. The familiar sensation of his warm palms after holding his mug of tea was always your favorite feeling in the morning. The induced warmness against his fingertips provided a healing touch, similar to a heating pad against an aching cramp on the body.

“Desperta, querida.” The rasp in his morning voice vibrates your ear. You tossed and turned on the bed, staying in your blankets. You peer them open but shut them immediately and hide in the mount of soft Egyptian cotton. “No, no. Ya esta siendo tarde.” His fingers gathered a small chuck of your hair in between his fingers and moved your hair away from your face. (Wake up, love. It's getting late.)

His fingers brushed against the shell of your ear before he took note of a tiny mole in plain sight for his eyes to see. “You have a mole here.” You feel his finger tap on the alleged speck.

“No, I don't…” Your voice is muffled by the blankets, along with your barely parted lips. “I’m not lying, my dear.” His fingers work to move your hair away from your ear and tap on the speck once again. “Mmmh, your skin says otherwise.” His hand ruffles your hair in a playful gesture, leaving it to be a muss for you to brush out — officially giving you a task to do when you get out of the warm bedsheets.

“It's adorable.”

“I know what you're doing. And it's not going to work.” You continue to mumble on, making colorful words that make no sense to the human mind.

“Whatever you say, querida.”

A particular night always stuck out for Miguel.

A rainy, cold, stormy night. Thunder rumbled in the space around you two, following the flashing white light of lightning that lit up the room momentarily. The loud crash was enough to send Miguel back to a conscious state. He rubs his face with the palm of his hand and lets out a heavy sigh.

He glances over at you and sees a wet patch on the pillowcase next to your parted lips. If you wanted to, you could sleep through a tornado.

“Jesus…” His hand finds its way to your hair, gently massaging your scalp, his fingers lost in a sea of darkness known as your hair.

The pads of his fingers worked dainty patterns before gently cradling you close.

The clash of warmth made him melt like molten lava against the cold marble stone, crackling and oozing down the crevices with such grace.

“Miguel…” You squirm close to him and savor the warmth on his chest. His chest hair ticked your nose and cheeks, but the sensation of extra warmth never failed to send chills down your spine.

“Shhh, just go back to sleep.” The warmth of his hand runs down the length of your spine, stopping on your lower back and rubbing his thumb against the stretch marks. “Just go to sleep, querida.”

“Are you sure you're going to be okay?” He probes this question at you every time you leave the Victorian manor. “Yes, Miguel. I’m going into town to get more rosemary and herbs.” You pick up your tiny woven basket and look over to your concerned lover. You sigh and make your way over.

“Don’t worry, no one is going after us.” Your smile is enough to smooth the aching worry in his gut. “Are you sure?” He pokes the question again, earning him a small smile. You hum a yes, walking back towards him and holding his hands. “Yes, Miguel.” You giggle softly and massage his knuckles with your thumb.

“I’ll prepare your favorite dinner tonight.”

Miguel forces a soft chuckle before pulling you into a warm embrace. “Just make it home before sunset. Hunters have been around the forest.” His voice vibrates into your chest cavity, sending another ripple of warmth.

“I'll be careful.”

Hours slowly evolved into days, then weeks, and you never returned to the manor. At first, it was simple glances out the window, hoping to see that familiar silhouette Miguel adores whenever you come home. But nothing, as if you had ceased to exist.

A hunter who had mistaken you for a deer snatched you from the forest's shadows, leaving you alone on the forest floor, gasping for air.

Your hand loosens your grip on the small woven basket, spilling the contents out of the tiny basket and onto the forest floor. You always purchased nothing but herbs and two pomegranates for Miguel whenever you came into town.

The cobwebs and sorrows on the manor weighed down the environment over the next few decades, collecting a thick layer of dust bunnies and spiders crawling about. The tiny spiders crawl away at a door opening, letting candlelight pour in.

The room in question was a space you used to frequent. In the art room, he found you lounging around with a book or looking at his works of art, specifically his sketches of you.

There was an abundance of sketches on every flat surface in the room, varying from sketch to sketch. Sketches of you, lying in bed and tangled in your bedsheets. Some innocent sketches of you holding up a rabbit, showing its fluffy stomach to the world.

But the sketches were brushed off. Instead, Miguel made his way over to a particular pillar. A limestone blanketed with a worn-out bed sheet. He tugged off the fabric and saw the carved stone before him. The limestone before him showed a portrait of a young woman, specifically you. The curve of your mouth and the intricate detail of every strand of hair caught his attention. He remembered the tedious nights of his mallet and carving tools, having to alternate every other moment to capture the texture of your hair or the way your dimples appeared whenever you smiled.

His calloused fingers traced the sculpture's ridges and curves, feeling the cool marble against his warm touch.

"It's been a while, querida." He forced a small smile, his thumb stroking the cheek of the stone portrait. The smile was a pathetic attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes, blinking them away as if it would contribute to burying those feelings.

"It's been a while."

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cherryredstars · 9 months ago

Note

1 Thank you for the follow! If you haven't noticed by now I flipping love your writings and how you always portray the characters and I deeply apologize for not addressing it when I made my first request!

2 Sorry if my teen parent request made you uncomfortable if it has, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just wanted to point out that teen pregnancy/parenting is a real thing and it hardly been addressed as much.

3 Possibly my final request for the day since I'm working almost all week: Miguel having the ✨ audacity ✨ to think he has every write to make us cock drunk and go stupid every time we argue because he's always wrong and we're not? Like srsly we are always right and not finding excuses to make him fuck us stupid. 💅🏻

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Male Masturbation, Sex Ban. Brief Mentions of Somnophilia

A/N: Thank you, lover!

Unedited

He did this to himself.

It wouldn't have been like this if he simply learned when to keep his mouth shut. All it took was a grumbled 'I'll just fuck the attitude out of you anyways' under his breath as he walked away from you to seal his fate. Now he's subjected to this pathetic mess.

You haven't touched him in nearly a week, declaring that you're putting him under a sex ban until he learned his lesson and got his shit together. Since then, he's been an annoying bug near your ear, whining for the slightest bit of relief. Begging and whimpering for anything you're willing to give him: let it be a hand cupping his balls, a few licks to his leaking tip, or humping against your thigh. He's sent to hell every time you give him a stern no and ignore him.

You even avoid some of his more indirect advances. Always finding a way to slip out between him and the closest countertop as he tries to subtly dry hump you from behind. Shifting your position whenever he tries to trail a hand up your thigh to slip into your pants. Locking him out of the bedroom with nothing but his pillow and a thin blanket as you subject him to the couch for trying to feast on you while you slept. You totally ignore him when you walk into any room, pretending not to hear the pathetic whines he lets out towards you as he tugs at his neglected cock, begging you to swap his hands for yours. You just grab what you need and leave with a dismissal reminder to throw out the trash when he's done.

He's grasping at straws until he submits. Comes home the next day with a bunch of gifts and a winded apology. Giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes as he apologizes for fighting with you. If he had a tail, it would be waggling aggressively as you give him a quick peck on the lips and drag him into the bedroom. He doesn't even care that he comes the second you give his angry cock two slow pumps, dirtying your hand before you even got the chance to completely undress.

He's just happy that he doesn't have to suffer from sexual neglect anymore.

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 7 months ago

Text

Cancun Trip (Popstar!Fem!Reader x Bodyguard!Punk!Miguel O’Hara)

Hi hi:3 I’m alive (kinda lol) this is a fun little thing I was thinking of lol enjoy! Not proofread.

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Drinking, cursing,, biting, unprotected PinV (wrap it up people!) Fingering with ringers, Miguel had some interesting piercings :)tispy fucking, dirty talk (???), enjoy :3

Word count: 3k

Playlist AU Masterlist

—

Post-tour vacations were always your favorite thing, no dance practices, no boring meetings and most importantly, no manager to stop you from partying all night. And although Miguel was still technically on the clock, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t treat this as a vacation of his own.

That’s how you ended up with your heels in hand, trying to not stumble as you and Miguel drunkenly giggled on the walk back from the club at three in the morning.

“Come on princess, let me carry you, you’re gonna get cut on something.” Miguel mumbled, hands going to rest gently on the small of your back.

“I’m fine, I’m walking on sand.” You giggled, stumbling slightly as you looked back at him. Not phased when he moves his hand down slightly to wrap around your hip.

“Sand won’t stop you from getting cut from a beer bottle.” He pointed out.

“I can see the hotel from right here, it’s fine-Oh my god! Miguel put me down!” You clenched your heels against your chest as you were suddenly lifted off the ground bridal style.

“Not happening.” He smirked with a laugh, but you knew better than to fight against him, mostly because you’d end up failing. So you ended up just giggling the whole way to your shared suite. Where he finally put you down once you were both inside.

“Why did we come back here again ? I'm not tired.” You asked as you tossed your heels in some random corner, before making your way over to the kitchenette.

“You were complaining about your feet.” He reminded you, taking off his own shoes and his leather jacket. Draping it on a chair as he followed you.

“Oh yeah,” you hummed, opening the fridge door, looking around as you rummaged through the contents inside. “You want a buzzball ooor… a fourloko?”

“Fourloko.” He answered, making your nose scrunched while pulling out a can and a small buzzball for yourself. Handing him your drink first so he can open it since you already knew that due to your nails and the fact you were already slightly impaired that you wouldn’t be able to open without struggling for five minutes first.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit.” You mutter after switching drinks, trying not to cringe as you sipped on the strawberry liquor. “I thought I was going to die of alcohol poisoning when I drank one of those.”

“Princess, I’m over six feet and three hundred pounds, I can handle a fourloko. Small little thing like you though…” His voice dropped an octave as he went to sip his own drink, oblivious to the way his tone change seemed to stir something in your stomach. Mind slightly too hazy to see the way you took a bigger sip the second time around. “You should stick to that buzzball.”

His jab made your brows furrowed slightly. Annoyance quickly replacing the mysterious feeling before, as you decided to make yourself comfortable on the wooden kitchen floor. Not caring about the way your dress rode up your thighs when you crossed your legs. Instantly going to grab Miguel’s can and taking a sip when he placed it on the ground to join you on the ground. Regretting the decision after the first gulp, making you recoil at the taste as you put the can back down next to Miguel.

“Give me that.” He smirked playfully as he grabbed the can before it was even fully on the floor. Raising it towards his lips before leaning forward to speak again. “If you want to swap spit just say so, sweetheart.”

“You’re so weird.” You muttered in annoyance as you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m surprised that your eyes haven’t gotten stuck in the back of your skull yet.”

“If you have the hots for me just say so.” You mimicked his words in a deadpan tone, tilting your head back to take another gulp.

“Oh please,” Miguel couldn’t resist the scoff that escaped his lips from your words. “Hate to break it to you princess, but you’re not exactly my type.”

“Not your type!? I'm everybody’s type.” Despite your attempt to deliver your words with offense and attitude, you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upwards as you tried not to babble into another fit of drunken giggles.

“Believe it or not, spoiled little brats isn’t everybody’s type.” He smirked as he watched you move the little empty plastic ball to the side. Not missing the way your eyes immediately fall on his half full can. His hand immediately going to push it behind his back. “Oh no you don’t-“

“Just another sip, I don’t wanna get up!” Your pleas cut him off, immediately moving to your knees to scoot closer to him. Laughter began to fill the room as you attempted to reach for the can as he held it away from you, never noticing the way you had practically crawled on top of him. Barely registering the way his hand does to your hip in an attempt to help steady you. Your giggles only dying down when your eyes move away from the can, finally noticing how you two practically were touching noses.

Heat sinked into your lower stomach as you both gazed into each other’s hazy eyes, Miguel’s hand subconsciously tightened lightly on your hip, making your lips part ever so slightly as a silent gasp left between them. You wanted to say something to ease the weird sudden tension that filled the room, but your throat felt so dry that you couldn’t get anything out of them. The way his eyes looked at you alcohol made your head feel more fuzzier than it did at the club. You were feeling so dizzy, like you were falling-no,like you were leaning- leaning forward?

“Mmm-oh-oh my god-“ You pulled back as soon as you progressed what you had done, eyes shooting widen open and your hand covering your mouth. You just kissed Miguel. You kissed your bodyguard. “Im so sorry. I-I didn’t-I don’t know why I did that-“

But your apology was cut off before you could finish it. Large hands quickly moved to your shoulders as the oxygen from your lungs got stolen with each passing second. You couldn’t help the moan you let out as you melted into the kiss, melted into him. Manicured fingers entangling themselves into the little chocolate curls on the back of his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Miguel spoke between shallow breaths, his forehead resting on yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths.

“We should stop.” You agreed, voice light as you moved to straddle his waist.

“Definitely.” He muttered before pulling you back, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you let out a hiss, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. The warm metal of his tounge piercing making you shiver as it glides over the roof of your mouth.

“Your piercing feels so weird.” Despite not complaining, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Wait till you feel the other one…” He mumbled under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Before you could get a chance to question what he said, his mouth was on the base of your neck. The pressure of the metal ball on his neck made your breath hitch as his hands dug under the tight fabric around your thighs. Impatiently tugging at the no-show thong that you were certain was drenched by the way it was clinging to your core.

“What happened-to not being your type?” You couldn’t resist the urge to taunt his earlier words, keeping your tone as steady as you could with the way his two middle fingers began to slowly move up and down on your dripping slit.

“I’m blaming this on the alcohol.” He grumbled as he sat back, eyes dark as he focused on watching the way you attempted to wiggle yourself onto his fingers each time he passed your needy hole, applying a bit more pressure on it with each passing. His free hand went to hold your hips down to stop your squirming. “Don’t be impatient, princess.”

“You’re taking too long.” You whined.

“Ten minutes ago we weren’t making out.” He brought his gaze back up to your face, before finally entering his middle finger, making sure to go extra slow to help with any uncomfortableness you might feel from the stretching. The corner of his lips twisting upwards at the sight of your lips parting with a silent moan. “You’ll be thanking me in a few minutes for taking my time with this.”

You let out a whimper, head falling to rest on his shoulder as you attempted to get used to the sensation of his fingers inside of you. The coldness of one of his rings sending a shiver up your spine each time he bottomed out. Involuntary clenching around his finger with each graze of the metal, making Miguel’s brow furrow in annoyance.

“You need to relax sweetheart.” He muttered, leaning down slightly to place a light kiss on your hairline in a half-hearted attempt to help you calm down.

“I’m trying…” Any attitude you attempt to spit out from your tone was lost the second it left your mouth. “Rings feel weird…” You added as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the building heat in your lower stomach and the slow pumping from his fingers.

“Did you want me to take them off?” Miguel asked, having to tear his gaze from your cunt, your sudden silence not pleasing him one bit. ”Did you want me to take off the rings?” He repeated, eyes boring into you as you squirmed against him.

“Mm…” You hummed as you shook your head, Miguel couldn’t help but smirk slightly at your actions.

“Use your words.” He said, slowing down slightly just to mess with you.

“No, no, I don’t want the rings off.” You finally spat out, shaking your head a bit more frantically than before.

“Nasty little thing.” He cooed, the smirk on his lips growing a bit wider as he focused back down on his hand. Pumping his finger in and out a few more times, pausing to insert his ring finger before continuing his previous pace.

“Oh shit….” You hiss under your breath, your shaky hands finding purchase on Miguel’s bicep, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck. The building in your lower stomach getting ready to snap. “Shit, I’m close… Miggy I’m so close-“

“Come on princess, cum for me.” His growl, dropped an octave with the command, his fingers curling slightly to better hit that perfect soft. “Wanna feel that pretty pussy finish around my fingers.”

His words pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling shut as you bite down on him in order to muffle your moans. Making him let out a hiss as he slows his pace, helping you ride out your orgasm.

“Did so good.” He praised lowly , pulling his fingers out slowly. Eyes darkened slightly as he saw a thin string of your slick connect you both still, pulling till it broke.

“Felt so good.” You replied, still coming down, as you moved from his lap to his lower thighs, surely leaving a wet spot on his jeans. “Need more.”

“Impatient, are we princess?” He teased, his hand moving to undo his belt, but were quickly pushed away by yours, wanting him to speed up.

“Shut up.” You huffed, hands fidgeting to undo the metal. “I haven’t had any action since the show in San Francisco, I’m a bit desperate here.”

“Wow, the (Y/N). Desperate. I thought I'd never see the day.” He teased, leaning back slightly. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d never think he’d see it, the way your eyes were glossed over, looking at his covered bulge like it could solve all your problems, the way your hands were trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his jeans. You’re hair messy and disheveled, your lipgloss halfway gone, the only proof of it even existing in the first place was the strawberry taste it left on his own lips.

His usual well-kept, semi well behaved pop star was now acting like a college student who was finally losing her virginity in some random room at a frat party. He had never seen you desperate before, he wanted to make sure he committed the view to memory.

So needy, so desperate, and only for him.

He couldn’t help the way he twitched under your hand as you rubbed his clothed length.

“It feels big.” You admit, eyes not lifting to see the smirk that formed on Miguel’s lips.

“Ima big guy princess,” He murmured with a head tilt, “why’d you think I took the time to help you warm up?”

“You’re so cocky.”

“Funny coming from you.”

“Shush.” You huffed, finally dipping your fingers under his waistband, the heat radiating from him almost enough to make you break out in a sweat as you began to wrap your smaller fingers around the base of his cock-

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK!?” You exclaimed, quickly pulling your hand away, accidentally pulling his underwear down in the process. Causing your wide eyes to land on where your hand had just been. You blinked in disbelief as you tried to process the sight in front of you.

The eight inches of length by itself would already be enough of a challenge for you on its own, what was really making your stomach turn slightly was the metal bars that lined the underside of his shaft, about an inch or so of separation between each bar, each bar having a small ball at the end on either side.

“I’m not putting that in me.” You stated with complete seriousness, Miguel couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “When did you even get that done?” You asked, moving closer to get a better look.

“College.” He shrugged.

“You’re insane.” Your eyes moved up to meet his, unbothered by the cheeky little smirk he wasn’t attempting to hide. Not fighting when his hand moves to the small of your back to pull you closer again.

“It’s not that bad.” He reassures, “Most of the girls I’ve been with either don’t feel it, or they actually enjoy it.” Yet the way your brows furrowed together and the nervous hum that left your throat was a clear indication that you were inconvenienced.

“I mean…it’s kinda cool… I’ve never done it with anyone with a…” You trailed off, looking at him through your lashes as you waited for him to finish the rest for you.

“Jacob's ladder.”

“Jacob’s ladderrrr…” You drew out the words as you nodded, then biting your lips as you thought about it. “Okay…” you sighed, “but if it hurts we’re stopping.”

“Deal.” Miguel agrees, before pulling you until you were hovering over his member. Your hands go to rest on his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as you begin to slowly lower yourself down.

Oh.

“Ohh…that feels…” Amazing? Ethereal? Heavenly? You can’t even finish your sentence, “fuck.”

“You like it?” Miguel asked, already knowing the answer from the way your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack the second you landed on his thighs.

“Mhm…” You bit your lip as you nodded, wanting nothing more than to just start bouncing, but you knew you’d had to allow yourself to adjust to his girth or the soreness he’d leave between your legs would be much worse tomorrow morning.

After a few moments, you finally began to move up, stopping just below the tip before lowering back down. Your whimpers becoming more desperate and vocal with each moment.

“Shit… so tight…” He murmured, head falling back as his hands left your hips, placing them on the floor instead to help stabilize himself before thrusting his hips upwards, making you moan out his name. Groaning at the way you squeezed around him.

“Miguel…” You whined, nails digging into his shoulders. If he wasn’t still wearing his shirt, he’d be certain you’d be drawing blood, or at least leave imprints to match that note mark you left him.

“I know baby, I know…” He dipped his head to whisper against your ear. “Fuck, feel so good… how am I supposed to watch you dance around in those fluffy little dresses on stage now and not think of this, huh?” You didn’t answer, more you couldn’t. Too cockdrunk to properly think.

It was all too much, your body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. Heart pounding in your ears like it did when you finish a show, only this was so much better. Fingers tighten their grip on him as you felt the heat building the second time around, faster than the first time.

“Miggy…Ima-ima cum again..” You babble as you begin to bounce a bit quicker, making Miguel moan lowly.

“Where do you want me to finish?” He asked, knowing once you finished he won’t be far behind himself.

“Inside!” You exclaimed, almost too quickly. “Please Please ple-“

“Princess, I don't think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to -“ He began to protest, but his hands made purchase on your hips regardless.

“I’m on birth control.” You told him, making him let out a loud huff. He didn’t want to protest any further, mostly because he knew neither of you last.

“Shit…shit…” He grunted, rutting up into a few more things, his thrust growing more and more sloppy, your moans growing more and more high pitched before he finally felt you release around him. The way you squeezed him made eyes roll back as he began to empty his seed instead of you, riding out both of your highs as his hips stutter and slow. Breaths shallow as you. Finally rolling off of him once you both came back down.

“Jesus…” Miguel huffed , moving to finally get up off the floor, his butt sore from the hard kitchen wood. Taking a moment to tuck his softening member back into his jeans before reaching his hand down towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah just… my legs… jelly…” You take his hand, letting him pull you up from the floor as you use your free hand to fix your dress that was bunched up around your thighs, deciding to deal with your soaked panties in the morning. A beat passing before you spoke again. “We never speak of this.”

“Agree.”

—

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