#miguel o’hara i love you

[oharamwah]

Fem Reader giving Birth to Miguel's child and after a few minutes of Reader holding her he holds her and immediately does skin to skin contact with the baby (idk this just would be so sweet🥲)

♡ — love at first boop : miguel is head over heels for his two special girls.

husband!miguel x fem!reader

contents : husband miguel being the sweeeetest father ever, pure fluff tbh ♡

posted : august 23rd

© oharamwah, please do not steal my work

16 hours.

16 long hours of unadulterated, excruciating pain.

giving birth has always been what scared you the most about being pregnant — oh, and being a mother. but you’re not one for pain, so to have a loving husband who’s willing to whisper loving and encouraging nothings into your ears and with two strong hands to squeeze, that is privilege.

your mind was so fuzzy throughout the entire thing, though you could make out miguel’s voice muttering how much he loves you and how incredible you were doing. as if it really did much to alleviate the pain..

but by the time it was over, 1000 pounds was lifted off your shoulders, and all you could think of was being able to hold your new born baby girl in your arms.

“here she is mama, all cleaned up.” the nurse said, a bright smile spread from cheek to cheek. the sight took your breath away — the cutest baby with the sweetest little nose and gorgeous scarlet eyes, just like her dad’s. you held her to your chest as you sighed in relief.

“my angel,” you exhale, shutting your eyes as you smile.

“papi, look.” you say, gesturing for miguel, who’d been glued to your side for the last 16 hours.

“can i?” he asked sheepishly, holding his hands out desperately. you couldn’t say no.

just when you thought your birth-giving experience couldn’t get any better, what you saw next made your heart soar.

miguel held your baby with such caution, as if she were a doll made of fragile glass. he looked at her with stars in his eyes, a slight pinkness to his cheeks and the greatest smile you’ve ever seen, at least since your wedding day.

he had his eyes shut as he pressed his nose against hers, gently rubbing them together. “such a beautiful girl,” he whispered, bending his knees over and over and rocking her in his arms.

“my beautiful girls.” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead and looking at you. he slowly places her back into your hold, kneeling and grabbing one of your hands.

“i can’t wait to take care of her with you, cariño.” he smiled, brushing hair out of your forehead. his gaze quickly shifted to your baby’s face again.

“isn’t she beautiful?” you sigh, looking down at her too. “she even has your eyes.”

he grins. it was the first thing he noticed.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mother, y/n.”

“and you’re already the most amazing father, miguel. she’s already stolen your heart,” you kid.

miguel chuckles as he raises your hand and softly kisses it.

“there’s room in my heart for two.”

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 1

I’ve seen everyone doing these drabbles/aus and I wanted to join! 🤠

content warning: It gets suggestive towards the end so MINORS BEWARE.

word count: 719 (kind of proofread, I got excited)

Daydreaming about GymRat!Miguel x PlusSize!Reader / Chubby!Reader and the dynamic of big tall bf x shorter chubby gf 🚻

Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who started off as an awkward, lanky, nerdy teen using the gym to blow off steam. His mom felt that he wasn’t a great influence to his brother, his father wasn’t his real father, and his step-brother was an asshole.

GymRat!Miguel who’s nearly triple his weight by the time he starts college, body full of muscle. His mom has calmed down despite him previously eating her out of a house and a home. His biological dad agreed to help with any leftover college expenses and his step-dad helps him move on campus. He’s tearful when he hugs Gabriel goodbye, promising to call and play their weekly games.

GymRat!Miguel who stays loyal to his nerdy roots and aims for a Science degree with a minor in Robotics for fun. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his classes, body taking up the ends of lab tables. Even though he prefers to sit in the front of classes, he opts to sit in the back so that everyone can see. He’s constantly using office hours and lingering after class so that he can make sure that his notes are correct.

GymRat!Miguel who first meets you in one of his bio labs and is immediately enamored by you. Your clothes hug your curves, you smell sweet, and something on you always matches. Your shoes and your backpack, your skirt and your jacket, your accessories and your nails.

GymRat!Miguel who ends up being in your group for a project and watches in awe as you take the lead, helping everyone decide which parts to complete. You go out of your way to make the powerpoint colorful and creative. You’re ecstatic when he turns in his parts extra early as everyone else has gone a-wall.

GymRat!Miguel who calms you down when the deadline is near and the rest of the group still hasn’t done their part. You two meet late in the library to finish everything. He thinks you’re adorable despite how stressed and tired you are. He makes the last minute decision to delete the other two group member’s names off of the title slide, taking the initiative to email the teacher before hand.

GymRat!Miguel who walks into the lab building on presentation day 50 minutes early and sees you being cornered by the other group members eyes full of confusion. He quickly walks over asking if there was a problem. Seeing him looming over them, the two decide give up, and scramble together a last minute presentation.

GymRat!Miguel who explains everything, telling you not to worry about the others and just focus on you all’s presentation. You two have great presentation, chemistry blooming as you bounce off each other. You both get an easy A and you hug Miguel out of an excitement before the next lab starts.

GymRat!Miguel who imprints the feeling of your body against his in his memory. Your smell, how soft you were, how small you felt in his arms, how tight you squeezed him.

GymRat!Miguel whose dreams of you have him tossing and turning in his twin sized bed that was far too little for him. He scares his poor roommate to death when his body hits the floor with a big boom. The dream of you under him shattering as he collides with the ground. He groans and apologizes to his roommate, pain in his side and his groin.

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower, too aroused to go back to sleep. He bites his fist trying to quiet his moans, not wanting to wake his roommate for a second time. He replays images of you in his mind, pulling at his length until he shutters against the tile walls.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart drops when he checks his phone after his shower. You followed him on Instagram three hours ago. He checks your page and sees that you're private, but your profile picture is a lot. It's an angle from above you, your cleavage on display.

GymRat!Miguel who stands in the bathroom ogling at the photo like an idiot. He clicks the follow back button, watching as it shifts to pending, and stares down at his body again. He sighs and turns the shower back on, banking on his roommate sleeping through everything once again.

You had no idea the effect you had on him.

dividers by @y-onb 🩵

Leave a like and a comment! Let me know how you feel 😶‍🌫️

[tvgals]

miguel telling you to breathe when you cum …

sometimes it’s just too much when he’s pounding into you and you just can’t regulate the right way :((

“breathe, baby…” miguel tells you, tapping his fingers on your cheek coaxing you to inhale. you take a deep breath and miguel drags his cock out and almost immediately slams back in, earning a weak cry from you. “i can’t do it…don’t remember how..” you mumble, twisting your hips to try and get away from the pleasure.

“yes you can…did it last week..” miguel coos, pulling you flush to his chest, you two eye to eye. “look at me, baby.” your glazed eyes meet miguel’s and you inhale. “there she is…”

:(((

he’s such a cutie patootie

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your middle-aged, loser Genetics professor who has a dad bod <3

Part 9

Wc. 7.7k

Miguel waits in his car, his gaze not fixated on anything specific; simply forward. He rests his forearm on the car door, window down. The thick hairs of his arm raise as his mind ventures, replaying the past few hours in his mind. A low hum stirs against his chest. There’s a sort of glow he emulates as he sits there idly, smizing at nothing in particular. He probably looks like a total creep with how he’s grinning in his car, alone, looking off into space. No passenger. You've sat there for the past few months, from campus to your place, and vice versa. But today, you aren’t there, yet he’s happy. His heartbeat intensifies, his stomach contracting once or twice due to unfiltered chuckles. As he waits patiently in the car, he lets it consume him, the memory of that morning, and he closes his eyes.

“Okay, what do you think?” you reach your arms out as if to present a prize, and the winner is Miguel. Miguel, who looks uncomfortable in your too-small-for-him lounge chair but shows no sign of strain on his face, fixes his glasses and observes with love-sickened eyes. After a simple, romantic breakfast at his place, he insisted on taking you back home so that you could get ready. Then after dropping you off, you figured he might as well stay so he can take you to the ceremony, too.

“Is it too much?” You give a little twirl.

His eyes scan thoroughly scan you. “Jesus… How’d I get so lucky?” The question sounds genuine, as if needing an actual answer. “You’re beautiful, mama.”

This makes you smile in return. You look to the mirror to see if Miguel is right (obviously, he is), running your hands over your pre-planned graduation outfit. Today, you receive your hard-earned Master’s Degree, and even though throughout the year you were convinced you wouldn’t be, you’re feeling more nervous than ever. “Picked it myself.” Your voice wavers just a hint. Has two years really gone by so fast? More specifically, the second year of your grad. The first one felt like eons. Maybe it’s just because you didn’t score an Adonis of a professor that year.

Miguel stands from his chair and comes from behind, his hands snaking through the gap between your arms and waist, holding you tightly against his plush exterior, “I just wish I was the one who got it for you.” and a kiss is pressed to your temple. His grasp seemed to soothe your nerves a bit, your body sinking into his natural warmth and plush. You can see his face through the mirror, the absence of doubt and judgment in his expression making you fall all over again. You really were a lucky girl. He looks at you with such reverence. And maybe a touch of arousal. Those aren’t his keys you feel on your backside.

“Oh, stop. You’ve given me more than enough, Miguel. All I need is you.” With his chin resting on the top of your head, you reach to cup his face, a picture-perfect moment displayed on the full-length mirror. He whispers into your ear, “Giving you lessons doesn’t count, that’s just my job. te voy a dar el mundo, mi Vida.”

“Right, right, and I’m guessing giving me that necklace was a part of your job description?”

You win a rich, dark chuckle from him, but he ignores you, still sprinkling kisses on your skin, his bifocals bending out of place at times. You giggle and even try to break away, but he doesn’t budge. You fight the urge to kiss back just to spite him.

“Or that skirt? Or those shoes? Or that one purse? Damn, how much does the school pay you?”

And before you can further argue, he presses more kisses onto you, almost sending both of you to topple over. “Just let me spoil you, mama.” He speaks against your jaw.

“Miguel!” the gravel chuckle of his voice continues to rumble against the side of your neck. You can’t complain and never will, but the difference between Miguel now versus the Miguel you met still leaves you baffled to this day. Or it isn’t much of a difference or change, really, but rather an unmasking. This Miguel was just stowed away until further notice; placed in the backest corner of the freezer to never see the light of day. This is the person Miguel was dying to show, he just needed the right person to coax it out of him. Now you have him attacking you with wet kisses in the middle of your living room, his hulking arms locked around you with no chance at an escape.

“Right, enough fooling around and help me into this, will you!” Reluctantly, he’ll let you move your hair for better access to the still-open zipper of your outfit.

“Fine. On one condition.”

Sigh. “Yes?”

“Un besito.”

“Oh my God.”

“Take it or leave it. Last offer. Don’t make me make it two.”

“Given there’s no one else around to zip me up, I guess I have no choice. Just my luck.” you joke, eagerly leaning your head back against his chest, granting his kiss entry to your neck, your chin, and then lastly, your lip. And then one kiss turned to multiple. If you weren’t so completely lost in his tongue and lips, you’d notice his hand rested and wrapped around your neck. The minor callouses provided a sensation that only added to the fervor of the exchange. Once y’all finally pull away, low eyes traveling in triangles, he politely requests, “Step forward for me.”

You move forward slightly so as to give him space to zip you up. But before he can do the job, he takes a second to look over the details of your back, a part of your body his hands have gotten to know very well, but his eyes haven’t gotten the same pleasure of. Miguel was very good at respecting your boundaries and wishes, which meant a lot (a lot) of making out, but nothing further than that. He notes to himself how soft it looks, the hills and curves of your spine creating a Grecian masterpiece.

And you can practically feel his eyes roam every inch of exposed skin, making you feel like art. You think to say something, but you’d rather let Miguel have this moment, and you let yourself have it, too. You’d often think about what it’d be like to see Miguel’s reaction to you. All of you. He’s made you feel nothing but like a deity for the duration of your budding, unlabeled relationship, and you’ve been fully clothed at all times. You can only imagine how he’ll act when you’re completely bare.

You know for sure he loves you. He said so. And he’s shown it to you. You’ve decided that being that vulnerable with him is something you want, it’s only a matter of when.

You start to hear the friction of the tab pulling the teeth together, one by one, that’s how slow Miguel was going. Unable to resist the urge, he stops the zipper and reaches to plant a tender kiss on the back of what’s left of your exposed neck. “I could do this every day, you know?” he admits softly, like a hymn. You turn, not completely, just so that your face is to him, “‘Everyday’? For how long?” You know the answer, kind of, but there’s still curiosity in what he’ll say. There are so many instances where you wait for Miguel to say the wrong thing; to do something that’ll break this spell, but he hasn’t. He just doesn’t have the capacity to. He’s perfect in your eyes.

“For however long you’ll have me. Which I’m really hoping is forever or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.”

Damn, he said the right thing. People can say his stab at humor is mediocre all they want, but Miguel never ceases to make you snicker. If you opened an Oxford Dictionary to ‘adorable’, it’d have his picture.

“Who am I kidding, you could absolutely humiliate me and I’d still say ‘thank you’.”

“Oh, this’ll make some good blackmail.” you finally turn around to tauntingly wave your index finger at his amused expression.

“Oye, Final exam grades aren’t due ‘til next month, so I’d be careful if I were you.” his brow perks when he says ‘you’, and your only response is a sarcastic ‘Oooooo’ before you’re muffled by the millionth kiss of the day, but who’s counting?

“There. Secured. Anything else, princesa?”

You take a deep breath, getting in one last overall look in the mirror before facing him, “Okay, yeah, I’m ready. Just need my chauffeur.” You look over at Miguel, who looks back at you confused, then looks around knowing fully well there’s no one else except the two of you.

“Oh, yeah? Who?”

Ha ha ha. Very Funny. If expressions could talk, this is what yours would’ve said.

Miguel smiles, taking your hand to kiss the back of it, and rubs your knuckles with his thumb as an apology. “Your chariot awaits, your majesty.”

Wait, where is he going?

“Mig, stadium’s that way.” your thumb points toward the window next to you, the street that leads to the graduation growing farther and farther.

Despite that a mistake has obviously been made, Miguel looks indifferent, eyes aimed straight at the road before them with no sign of a doubt. He huffs from his nose before responding, “I know,” his thumb runs across the back of your hand, “I have something for you, though.” He takes your hand up to his lips, a smile creeping up on your features.

“At your office?”

“Accidentally left it there.”

What is he up to?

His crooked smile tells you a different story. Miguel can feel you questioning him. You can see him physically gather his words in the driver's seat.

“Remember when… we were in the library one of those first nights and we exchanged books?”

You nod. How could you forget?

“And I told you about Gabriella?”

You nod again. He’s asking obvious questions here, it’s sort of scaring you.

“That was my first time talking about her with someone. In years.” His chest and belly deflate as if releasing a weight he’s held onto, “And you’re also the first person who’s said her name out loud. Someone other than me. In a very long time.”

You listen intently, everything that has happened up until now making more sense with this piece of information. You always knew the painful fact that Miguel has been by himself mostly since starting teaching, but it stings even more knowing that he’s never opened up to anyone about this. No one to turn to. No one to be soft with. Sure, he had his friends, from what you remember him telling you about his hero, multi-dimension, whatever-it-was days, but to your understanding, they all left him alone. By means of Miguel’s requests. He wanted those days to be over completely.

“She was beginning to feel like- I don’t know. Like a figment of my imagination. Photos and videos that I rewatch and stare at every single day were starting to… go stale,” this admission makes him wince in shame, “I replay them over and over again… and nothing new. I know what happens in each and every single one of them. And it ends up hurting every single time. I didn’t know how much more I could’ve taken before stopping altogether.” His lips purse, the guilt seeping from every inch of him. “Well, at some point, I even became afraid. Terrified that I was starting to forget the little things about her, or worse, that I’d move on,”

You didn’t even notice, but the car had been parked minutes ago, it’s only when he turns his face to look at you, eyes beginning to gloss, when you realize the car had stopped.

“Until that night.” His narrow gaze softens.

“The night at the library… I told you things that I hadn’t even thought about until that night. Like, for example, how she liked to match the color of her hair ties to her shirt,” Miguel allows himself to softly beam with this memory, “or whenever I’d fall asleep on the couch, she’d always, always, place a blanket on my feet so that ‘the monsters don’t get me’,” you both giggle at this, “Like those things? They had just come back to me in that moment.”

You both had entered campus grounds and turned to his office door, and he whipped out his keys, the metal hitting against the doorknob. The halls are quiet and hollow. It feels like the end of an academic year.

“I just never thought I could possibly let those things slip.” His voice lowers, an air of disbelief in his words.

“Will you ever stop loving her?”

“Of course not. Never.”

“Then she will live on forever. You’ve proven to yourself that you’ll never let the small things leave. They’ll always come back to you.”

Miguel smiles to himself, thinking about this.

He heads toward his bookshelf, reaching for something, but you can’t see given that he himself blocks the entire view of it. “When I hear you say her name,” you see his head bow down at something in his hand, “You sound so… lively... If that makes sense? Like… as if she were still here, as if you knew her. It meant a lot to me. Even in the way you talked about her. Maybe it explains why I was able to recall so much.”

He turns around to you, and you can only make out something small in his hand; something blue?

“I figured that, if she were still here, she’d want you to have this.”

He unfurls his hand and out blossoms a satin blue ribbon formed in a rosette; the words ‘first place’ are displayed in the center. “Wear it today?” He stands before you, the dwarfed ribbon sitting in his hand. His request sounds more like a plea.

“Her teammates gave it to her when she scored their winning goal. She was so happy. It was her last game before she-” Both gazes leave the ribbon and land on each other, glossed and daring to well.

He clears his throat, “She used to- used to show it off any chance she could,” His eyes well up, but regardless of presuming tears, he looks down at the ribbon with a soft smile.

“Miguel,” Your head slowly shakes from side to side, “I can’t.”

“Yes you can,” he persists, “Take it, it’s yours.” He insists through choked words. He places the ribbon in your hand, folding your fingers in, hoping that you’ll accept his gift.

Here stands a man you’ve been falling so hard for for the past year, who is not only giving you a piece of his late daughter’s life, but insisting you take it. You haven’t been around enough to know what love is, but with what Miguel is doing right now, you’re starting to think maybe this is what it might look like. When you started seeing Miguel, who was your professor, you didn’t think all those thoughts of him being yours would ever have come true. You knew it was silly, childish, and most importantly, out of the question. Yet here he is, giving you a piece of himself. This isn’t casual anymore. So he did really mean those three sacred words said last night and this morning.

After letting the ribbon sit there for just seconds but what feels like minutes, you take his hand back, but the ribbon is now pressed between you and Miguel’s palms. You give it a tight squeeze, taking in a deep breath. “It’s ours.”

You look up at him, a trail of a tear down your cheek. “Because I’m yours, if you’ll have me,” a bright smile grows behind your wet eyes. “And I’m really hoping it’s forever, or else this’ll be extremely embarrassing.” You actually laugh, and so does he, pooling eyes and all.

“You’re stuck with me. I love you.”

With those words, it was like the past five years of being alone became all worth it. All the lonely nights, all the predictive mornings, and the dune of a civilian life he was leading came crashing down on him because he knew a new one was dawning. Still civilian, but now, he has someone to put all the love he has to offer into. All his fears, all his insecurities, it all dissolved. The label of your relationship was blurry, uncertain if this was the kind of thing you entertained for only a bit and never spoke of again or something worthwhile. If last night wasn’t a confirmation of the answer, then this moment was, marking it as the official beginning of a romantic, exclusive, official relationship.

“I love you. I love you. Te amo. Te quiero. I love you. I love you… I love you…” his soft declarations are muffled in kisses on any spot he could get to. All those fantasies he’s conjured in his mind where you two live together, share a life, make a life… or two… or three… or however many you’re willing to carry, he doesn’t care, all of those scenarios now seem like promises. Like a nearby reality. Solitary nights dreaming about you in ways that leave him hot and bothered will finally come to an end. On a more suggestive note, He’ll finally be able to get through class without raging hard-ons again.

“I love you.” You manage to breathe out between kisses. Arms wrap around the back, hands wrap around the neck, fingers rake through tussles of hair, and legs begin to lose balance and find their way to the edge of Miguel’s desk. Visions become blurred, ears begin to grow hot, and heart rates quicken with beats large enough to feel on each other’s chests. You two are much too deep in it that you don’t hear the creaking of the wood underneath you. “Yes. Please.” Miguel hears your whisper, moving his head to look you in the eye. “You mean…?” He asks gently, to which you nod, repeating your plea. Without much thinking, Miguel taps your thigh. This was it. Miguel didn’t hear you say the exact words, but he knew. He knew what you were saying yes to. You, much less thinking, instinctively raise your leg, allowing Miguel to prop you onto the desk. “I love you. So much, it’s crazy, Miguel. God, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” You mewl in his ear, and in return, Miguel, with softly knitted brows, lets out a pathetic groan. Miguel may be quiet in everyday life, but when it came to the two of you, alone, he wasn’t afraid of being vocal about what he liked, and right now, with what you’re saying plus your legs wrapping securely around his waist seemed to have both an audible and physical effect on him. A big physical effect.

Is this the right spot to do this right now? Couldn’t y’all get in trouble? Was this even a good time?

These are questions that a sane person would probably think of, but with the current circumstances, you simply couldn’t give a damn, let alone Miguel. Even if you tried, you don’t think you would’ve even had enough brain wattage to string a single thought with Miguel touching you like this. However, if you had the luxury of logic, you’d know that:

1. Getting in trouble isn’t of concern since faculty are either at home starting the Summer they’ve been so impatiently waiting for, and students are at home doing the same or at the stadium.

2. Given that the ceremony won’t start until another 2 hours from now, it’ll give you both plenty of time. The traffic would’ve been dreadful anyway, so might as well just show up at the last minute.

3. What better place than here… where you two met.

You breathe heavily along with Miguel, “Remember… the first meeting… I sat right in front of this desk,” Miguel makes an effort to listen, but he’s currently too occupied with straining his hard-on against your heat, “Mm-oh…now look at us.” your breathless voice and coquettish smirk goes straight to Miguel’s cock, the feeling of his pants shrinking in size making him hot all over. Trapping your lips between his over and over again. You're pretty much without oxygen at this point, but you don’t care, it feels amazing. His teeth on your lips, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass deeper against his length. Your fingers tugged onto his now disheveled curls and he whined. He whined.

“Mama, you don’t wanna know how many times I’ve imagined this moment. Fuck, am I dreaming again?” His words hit your skin like the thick air after a calm rain.

You cup his face in your hands, pulling him from your neck, and you’re met with a lust-drunken, devoted worshipper; a big man that’s been stricken of sex for far too long. In doing so, you notice the ribbon still in your hand, which knocks a bit of sobriety back into you. It’s almost like Miguel read your mind because the same alarm goes off in his head. With that, the two of you are quick to mend one tiny problem.

Miguel, still between your legs, reaches over to lower any pictures he has of Gabriella, faced down on the shelf. As for you, you stash the ribbon safely in a drawer right behind you. Gabriella shouldn’t be present for this.

Capturing you in a kiss again, your hand ends up untucking his shirt, resting on his stomach, your fingers caressing his skin. He huffs, slightly tickled by your soft touch along his belly. The corner of his lip curves into a dorky smirk as you sneak your hand into the waistband of his slacks and boxers, pushing past his dark happy trail. “Oh fuck. Haven’t been touched like this in so long,” The clank of his belt buckle rings in your ears, making you pulsate, “I need you. So fucking badly.”

“Keep talking. Please.” You murmur, unbuttoning his shirt, unveiling a plethora of chest hair covering a body fit to raise your future children.

“So lonely, honey… miss you every night when I come home. Miss you so much in the mornings, it hurts.”

Once his shirt is on the floor, with hands and eyes, you revel in all his glory: six feet and nine inches of caramel deliciousness, coated in equal parts of muscle and fluff. You could come undone just from this sight.

His hand holds your chin with a soft caress of his thumb, “I used to look a lot better back then. I’ll work on it.”

You pull him down by his neck to eye level in protest. “Don’t you dare change a single thing on this body. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Oh, that made his dick twitch. Your free hand wraps around his broad shoulders while the other is in his hair, smashing faces. Miguel, with no hesitation, swipes everything off the desk and instantly pushes you onto your back, his soft husky exterior pressing you against the cold wood. Tongues are down throats. He stutters as his dick twitches, “Tell me I can eat you out.” The question and tone of voice alone make your back arch. You kiss even deeper, tongues intertwining as he moans in your mouth.

“God, yes, please, Mig, please-”

He gives a vicious squeeze to your ass, reminding you of his pure strength, “That’s not what I want. Usa tus palabras, mamita.” Your begging makes his cock ache, but he needs to hear the words. He needs to know you want this as much as he does. He needs your permission.

Your top lip curls before you speak again through hooded eyes, “Professor,” the name catches him off guard, “please… fuck me with your mouth.”

You were playing a dangerous game. Before you was a sexually deprived middle-aged man who’d been silently pining for you since day one, and you were begging him to treat your cunt like a 5-star meal. Having a gorgeous girl like you pleading for him to tongue fuck you like you deserved, it was driving him crazy. He wasted no time going down to the most sacred corner of this divine body.

“Funny… I zipped this up not even half an hour ago.”

“Hey, hey, careful, I still have a ceremony to wear this to.”

You had a point. And as if you were a gift, he bunches the fabric high enough to reveal some panties he’d recently given you. If it wasn’t for him wanting to last for both hours until the ceremony, he would’ve came right then and there. He looks at you with darkened eyes, a gaze intense enough to strip the cockiness from you, your cheeks growing hot from the act, “What? I assumed this was gonna happen later-”

Miguel cuts your sentence short with a French kiss to your clit through the thin lace, the combination of his nose, tongue, and breath on your heat making your thighs shake. “ So wet… you always this wet during class? Fuck.” With how Miguel was moaning and groaning against your sensitive skin, you’d assume he got more pleasure in giving you head than you did receiving it. Your hand darts for his scalp, the other holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life once he hooks the panty with his finger to move it out of the way, pursuing even more thirstily now. The wood creaks with each buck of your hips, but with the way Miguel’s arms hold your weight on his wide shoulders effortlessly, it doesn’t phase you. Breathless prayers of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the table. You can feel the bundle in your core form as your whimpers turn to wails.

“Mig, s’good, feels so good. I’m close, pleasepleaseplease-”

Meanwhile, his eyes were practically to the back of his head, hips pathetically bucking to the matching rhythm of your hips as he took turns treating your clit like a lollipop and your entrance like a fleshlight. “M’gonna- aw fuck… voy a cuidarte, mamita, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” you hear through a whine before his tongue is back at it again. His hands take turns squeezing your thighs tighter around his head and occasionally using his forefingers to stimulate your sensitive bud. His glasses start to fog, and his eyes are covered by humid lenses. This was starting to obscure his perfect view of you and your euphoric expressions, and he just couldn’t have that. So, he pulled away for only a millisecond just to basically rip them off and he was right back to devouring your weeping cunt. There’s no way he was missing this.

You’re choked whines signify the peak, your body trembling uncontrollably. This will be the first of many, and he’s only getting started. When the man promises to take care of you, he’s gonna take care of you.

He spends the remainder of your climax lovingly rubbing his fingers up and down your pussy, making sure you ride it out all the way to the very end.

“Good, baby? You okay?” he purs back into your ear, tenderly caressing your thighs and planting gentle kisses of reassurance on your face. You nod with half-lidded eyes, catching your breath before replying ‘yes’.

“Tell me what you want, mama.”

“Fuck me, professor. Please?”

“Say that again.”

You look at him above you, your legs pulling his waist closer so that his aching length meets your pulsing core, “Please, I want you to fuck me, professor.” Whilst maintaining eye contact, Miguel reaches down to put your hand on the bulge. “Look what you do to me.” Your theory of his size is confirmed.

“This what you wanted?”

“Need it.”

“C’mere.”

Miguel sits you up, telling you to relax since ‘he’ll do all the work’. He carries you to his office couch. He plops onto the cushions with you straddled on his lap. While he has your tongue entwined with his, he releases his cock from the restraints of his boxers, the base erects against his lower belly. Not wanting to waste another second, although the view of it was mesmerizing, you sit up on your knees to line yourself up with him, but Miguel sits you back down, “No hay prisa, mamita, need to get you ready, but first,” His hand snakes to the back of the zipper, and the dress unveils, “Need to see all of you, beautiful.” you seem to knock the air out of him as he lets his hands explore you, your breasts the perfect hand full. “You’re so fucking hot.” He even looks up for a moment and thanks God for blessing him with someone like you, making you look down at the endearing gesture.

Your body goes limp once he laps at your chest, sucking and pulling like it was his first meal in ages. The feeling of his tongue circulating your hardened buds made you clench around nothing. He has you in a bear hug, front sides pressed against each other. The small room seems to disappear around the two of you, totally forgetting where you are, in both space and time. It’s just you, Miguel, and the beautiful sounds of pure, raw pleasure.

“Mig, wanna make you feel good, too.”

Miguel unwillingly pulls away, only half-hearing what you said, and not given even a chance to process. You’ve already positioned yourself on your hands and knees next to him on the couch. Kitten licks and tender sucks to the tip send Miguel’s head falling against the back of the couch. You know he’s needing more when his hips buck upward, and you’re more than willing to give it to him. Occasionally, you’d rest your head against his stomach chub to give him a few rewarding strokes, admiring his size, just to let it sink back into your hollowed mouth. You managed to get Miguel growling, hoarse moans spilling from his bitten lips as you tend to his stiffened cock that you’ve daydreamed of tasting.

“Baby, please, slow down, not gonna last long.” But it was no use. You were relentless on his aching manhood. The only way to get you to go easy on him was to reach over your ass and pump his fingers into you, so that’s exactly what he did. You whine with his tip in the back of your throat, but you’re able to still keep him in. To Miguel’s hopes, you do slow down, the mutual pleasure putting both of you in sync.

“Let’s come together, mamita, hm? Can I put another one in, baby?”

He takes your eye contact as a cue to put in a third, thick finger, eliciting a high-pitched moan against his veiny shaft. Having both ends of you completely filled was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming, but it’s the best feeling you’ve ever felt. There’s no one else you would’ve rathered have you like this than your Mig.

His fingers get faster, and your strength to keep his cock inside is dwindling, but for him, you try, nonetheless.

“That’s it, mamita, that’s it…” His fingers are unbelievably fast at the point, droplets sent flying and falling onto the fabric of the couch. That’s something he’ll worry about later, but right now, his goal was to get you absolutely fucked out and coming all over his hand. Unable to hold it anymore, you free him from your mouth, letting yourself cry and whine freely as he finger fucks your second orgasm out of you. Still determined to have him come with you, you pump him with your hand as you ride off your high on his hand. Miguel wants to praise you, but his panting and mewling get in the way. You had this gentle giant making what would be considered embarrassing noises, but symphonic music to your ears. At the first sign of his juices, you place him back into your mouth, but this time, he holds your hair and fucks up into your mouth in short, fast, desperate thrusts until he’s finished.

You don’t even let him have a moment to breathe once you start kissing up his happy trail and to his stomach; what once was a pack of abs has given way to pudge. You kiss a little higher, giving his pec a gentle lick where it’s most sensitive, making him sharply inhale as a result. They proceed to the valley of his pecs, up his neck, to his jaw, and cheek. If Miguel still had doubts in the back of his mind about your love for his body, they’ve vanished now.

Your lips meet now, and various soft ‘I love you’s’ are exchanged.

“Just want you to sit back n’ relax now, mami. Wanna see that gorgeous face,” Holding onto your head and lower back, he carefully lays you on the couch, “Can I?” The gentle dominance this man radiated was good enough to make you already contemplate marriage. The expression on his face reflected utter devotion and praise. You thought his kind were only written in books.

“Of course, professor. Gotta repay you for all those private sessions.” Even after two orgasms, you still had to keep the cliche going. Miguel was unable to help a small chuckle. He had no problem playing right along, though. “You made it so hard to focus in class, you know that?” His voice is dark and low, a stark contrast to the noises he was making just a minute ago. He speaks while spreading your legs like precious artifacts, lining himself up. Finally.

“Sitting there all gorgeous n’ smart. Drove me insane.” He whispers into your ear, his leaking tip making a connection to your entrance. “And then having the audacity to help your classmates? How dare you have a heart just as beautiful.” He kisses you while sliding inside, muffling your gasp.

He tuts against your mouth, “Yo se, bebita, me too…mmnnshit,” His hand caresses your hair in an effort to soothe at least some tension, “I’ll go slow, mama, m’kay? Gonna take care of y- oh fuck,” His forehead presses against yours, his free hand holding onto yours as he slowly slides in and out, gauging how deep you can take him. The stretch induces a euphoric pain, causing you to squeeze his hand, but he squeezes right back, your cunt sucking him in all too well.

Miguel starts to go stupid once he’s halfway in. The sensation has him beginning to babble, choked words coming out in a gentle lull.“Que rico…Feel good, mamita? It’s okay mama, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you.” He talks delicately as he continues to go in and slowly draw out with only half of himself, just to be sure you're warmed up enough for all of him. Your eyes are closed, trying to focus on breathing, but it only makes it more difficult. It worries Miguel. “Too much, baby? I’ll stop.” And just as he’s about to pull out, you use your other hand that was clinging onto the arm of the chair to stop him, “Nonono, please,” He lowers himself, still connected, “Need you, Mig. Please, keep going, don’t stop.” You beg, the undeniable need in your voice making Miguel go weak. He puts all his weight on you, cautiously going all the way inside. When he gets as deep as he possibly can, his tip kissing you right in the perfect spot, he pecks your forehead before telling you, “You look so pretty taking it, beba.”

Miguel’s words are slurred as he begins fucking you, thick fingers playing at your clit as he does. He can’t help but prop himself on his elbow just to get a look of himself going in and out of you, the slick sounds and what looks like a bulge of his cock sending him into insanity, driving him to go desperately faster. He gets lost in the way every time he pumps in, he creates a hill in your stomach. You look down, too, seeing what he’s seeing, and it only makes his name fall from your mouth embarrassingly loud, as well as telling him how good he feels and how much you love him, every syllable coming out with pure verity.

Not now since you’re too busy getting amazingly fucked, but later on, you’ll surely think about how good of stamina Miguel has for his age. He should’ve been tired by now, but the man was rutting and there was no sign of him slowing down anytime soon. When his mouth wasn’t latched onto yours, he’d speak nonsense to you. He’d let out long, exasperated ‘Yes’s’ into your ear, unafraid to let his unfiltered noises fill the room. When he knew he was being too rough, he’d slow his thrusts until he was dragging his dick in and out of you, pumping ever so slowly and lovingly. It was then he’d be able to coherently form sweet words of nothings, “I’m obsessed with you. Wanna keep you like this forever.”

Whether he was going rabid or making sweet love, Miguel still made sure to hold your hand through it all.

He can feel himself coming soon. As if he needed to be deeper into you, he only stops for a nanosecond to bring your knees over you, pressing you even deeper into the couch, so as to better ram your already abused pussy. Your panting heightens in pitch. “Right there, sweetheart? Aww Fuck, there it is.” His big, strong hands hold your knees in place where they frame your head. Your bodies are sweaty, only enhancing the lewd sounds of his hips smacking your ass with each thrust. When your pussy flutters around him, it makes his eyes roll back. He’s already made you orgasm twice by now, getting his juices all over you, but he needs more. “I can’t stop.” He stammers through a slack jaw.

“Mig…dunno if I c-can… going-”

He slows down his rhythm, hands cupping your face to make eye contact, “Baby, please, gimme one more, just one more. Promise.”

With a nod of your head, he buries you in his arms, his face in your neck, body on body, leaving no space between you, and he rams into you like no tomorrow, luring one last orgasm from you. The way the curve of his belly and muscles rubbed against you was the icing on the cake. You feel Miguel getting closer with the way he moans into the crook of your neck. You are, too.

The dam breaks loose with an outcry of his name, to which Miguel lifts his head to kiss your tears as you peak, his own following right behind. Once it starts to descend, a rain of butterfly kisses fall on your face, “I’ve got you, sweetie,” he coos, “I love you so much… mamita,” he gently calls to get your attention, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You at least accomplish a weak smile, requiting the love with a kiss to his swollen lips.

There was no need to rush, so the two of you just lay there, embracing each other.

“Miguel,”

“Hm?” He hums against your skin.

“I feel like I’m in a fairytale.”

“Me too.”

6:49 PM.

You don’t know how, but in one hour, Miguel and you were able to go back to your place, shower (separately. You two knew a joint shower would’ve most definitely led to other things.), redo your makeup, fix your and Miguel’s hair, and leave to the stadium with moderate traffic. You look in the passenger seat mirror for the last touch-ups.

“Praying I don’t trip on that stage. If I do, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll happily take the blame.” He gives your thigh a small squeeze, in which you glare at him in return. The shit-eating grin on his face still made you smile, though.

You sit in your assigned seat among a sea of students, dawning the traditional cap and gown, with numerous achieved stoles and ropes around your neck, but only one stands out from them all, and one that you consider your best achievement: Gabriella’s Blue Ribbon.

You look down at it, giving it a little tug to straighten it out. You look up to search for Miguel in the enormous mass of seats, but it isn’t too hard. All you had to do was find the freakishly tall man with glasses, and when you do, you smile at him. As subtly as possible, he mouths ‘I love you’, and you do it back. You think to blow him a kiss, but given the situation, you also think it better not to in public. You still don’t have that degree in your hand, and you can’t risk anything, especially not when you’re so close. But trust, the second that piece of paper is in your hand, Miguel is all yours, no shame attached.

You’re on the edge of your seat the entirety of waiting for your name to be called, and once it is, you feel you could cry. You walk across the stage, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment filling you to the brim. Miguel watches on, a prideful expression on his face. You shake hands with a few faculty members, some you grew to love and will cherish, some you secretly wished would accidentally fall through a manhole, before you get to the dean, who currently holds your degree in their hand. You’re congratulated once it’s in your hand, the feeling of two very difficult years weighing down on your hand. It feels good. Smiling ear-to-ear, you look out into the audience as you walk across, degree facing outward for the whole stadium to see because one thing for sure is that everyone in the establishment will know that you did that. Your smile shines like a thousand stars, at least to Miguel. His heart could explode with how much love and awe he feels for you. Heaven knows he tried to make a new life for himself by putting the Spider-Man title to rest, and though he was successful, he was still missing a piece of himself. In this moment, he’s thanking you for taking a chance on him; for letting a different man, a happy man, come out for a while, and hopefully, for the rest of his life.

And that’s where he sits now, in the car, waiting for you in the parking lot. Prior to the ceremony, it was agreed that Miguel would slip away just a couple of minutes early (basically skip the dean’s farewell speech) so that you and Miguel could beat the crowds and go celebrate wherever he had planned for you. Hoards of crying mothers and cheering students catch his attention. It must’ve ended. It only takes a moment for him to pick you out from the crowd, immediately exiting the car to open the passenger door for you.

“Congratulations, mi vida.” He calls out, leaning against the car.

Elated, you crash into him, arms around his neck, legs lifted in the air, and you kiss him. You pull away with a joyous mwah.

You both retreat into the car. “You helped, my cute lil geneticist.” Giddiness beams from your voice. You reach over the center console to cup his chin and squeeze it, puckering his lips to kiss him again and again. This makes him chuckle. He may be older and bigger in every sense of the word, but at the end of the day, he is and always will be your dork. Your teddy bear.

“I just taught you a few formulas. This was all you, mama,” he starts the car but glances at you for a second. “What?” You tilt your head.

“I wanna thank you.”

“For what?” Every time Miguel opens his mouth, you’re reminded of what a lottery win you’ve made. You grab his hand to hold it up to your heart; the same spot where Gabriella’s ribbon is pinned.

“For loving me. The way you do.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me.”

His brows furrowed, his lips curled into a soft smile. He notices the blue ribbon. He caresses one of its tails, and a few of his heartstrings pull at the sight. He knows that if Gabriella were there, she would’ve been the loudest in the stands. “Wish she could’ve been here.”

You press his hand against your heart.

“She is.”

Miguel has told you so much about her that at this point, she feels like yours, and you feel that she’s there. You know with your whole heart that she is.

You both share one more tender kiss before Miguel pulls out of the lot.

“Well, it’s official. I am no longer your student. How do you feel about that?” you smirk, relaxed in your assigned seat; your rightful throne as passenger princess.

“Speaking of which, I hope you know that that degree is for decoration purposes from this day forward.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re quite the comedian today, huh?”

“You think I’m kidding? I want you home 24/7, you hear me? In the kitchen, an apron and all. I’m dead serious.” The sarcastic tone in his voice sends you chuckling through the nose.

“I’ll stay home and be your housewife if you give me a perfect score, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Ok, no, but seriously, baby, please score my paper accurately.”

“Of course, beba. Just jokes. I’m kidding about the staying-home thing, too. You can do whatever you want,” He looks over at you at a red light, “Just as long as you always come back home to me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You two snuggle in Miguel’s bed after a nice dinner celebrating you. The sheets are warm and soft, but it doesn’t compare to the warmth and softness of Miguel’s body on yours; skin to skin. You’re both entangled and nude, having just had another (or a few) rounds of passionate love. Sleep looms over both you and Miguel, a little heavier on you. You’re quickly learning that Miguel does not have the endurance of an average man.

Knowing how much you loved his speaking voice, he decided to finish and read aloud to you Pride and Prejudice, a book you recommended to him and has become a new favorite of his. A king of aftercare. How more perfect can he be?

Miguel, seeing your eyes grow heavy, kisses your temple and smiles before starting again, “ ‘I love you. You have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.’” He recites the notorious line written by Austen, but not for the sake of reading aloud anymore, no. This line was directed to you. And only for you.

“And I love you.” You whisper back.

And for the first time in much more than just 5 years, Miguel didn’t have to go to bed alone. And he won’t have to ever again.

Miguel hasn’t thought about the canon theory in a very, very long time, but a fleeting thought went through his mind before drifting away:

If going through everything that he had to, may it be the day his genetic makeup was altered, the spider-verse, Gabriella, trading in the suit for a life of solitude, everything; Despite the pain, if it all had to happen in order to have met you.

Then it’ll all have been worth it.

<3 Tags <3

@mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni @shaquilles-0atmeal @nina-from-317 @exoticb-utters @sugurusyndrome @aphinthestars

A/N: Fav chapter I've ever written. It was made with love <3 Really hoped you guys enjoyed it <3 n thnx sm for sticking around even if I made y'all wait so long 😭 love youuuuuuuu‼️ MWAH!!!

[selfmessages]

Whipped Miguel who worships the ground you walk on—literally, this man is completely enamored by your existence. I mean, how could someone so perfect, so divine, even be real? Miguel constantly reminds you of how perfect he thinks you are. Praise for you is always at the tip of his tongue. Even if you don’t think you’re perfect, you could do absolutely no wrong in his eyes.

Whipped Miguel who vows to protect you til his very last breath. He doesn’t make any effort to hide how protective he is of you either. Pretty much all of Spider Society knows of his possessiveness over you. If so much as a hair on your head is out of place- (just imagine what he did to miles and times it by 10) Most of his free time is spent following you around under the guise of him needing to protect you. (It’s true, he wants to protect you from danger but he mostly just wants to spend time with you… and scare off any people who might try to take you from him.) You sometimes joke that he acts like a little puppy with separation anxiety. He’ll roll his eyes and cross his arms with a huff in a typical Miguel fashion, but we all know he doesn’t mind.

Whipped Miguel who stops at nothing to please you, including in bed. His favorite position is missionary. Simply because he loves seeing your face and all the expressions you make while he hits your sweet spot dead on, over and over again. He also loves hearing your sweet moans, maybe a little too much to the point where he constantly overstimulates you. He’ll have you shaking and twitching uncontrollably from the mind-bending orgasms he gives you. His aftercare is top tier so you don’t mind. He will clean you, change the bedsheets, get you food/water, and whatever else you need.

Whipped Miguel who loves having you in his arms. Fall asleep while he’s holding you and he could die a happy man right then and there. If you’re having any self-doubts he will plant you firmly in his lap with his arms around you while whispering sweet nothings and praises into your ear. He just loves you so much.

We ❤️ whipped Miguel

[solurae]

four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) — PT.1

HELLO!!! okok the prologue received some good reception so i will!!! be continuing the series :3c THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE NICE COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND OHHHH MY GOD THE MOTHER OF NERD!MIGUEL @nymphomatique REBLOGGED MY PROLOGUE (i could die happy) ty for the food and the inspiration to start this series!!!

i’m still the process of setting up my tumblr because my ass made this my secondary blog (but idek if that changes anything… i don’t think) OH AND YES THERE IS NOW A TAG FOR THE SERIES! ALSO PLSPLSPLS DON’T BE AFRAID TO SEND THROUGH ASKS FOR DRABBLES OR REQUESTS OR ANYTHING REALLY!!! i’m more than happy to feed us both hehe

tw/cw: mmmm not any i can think of (FIXING ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS AFTER POSTING BECAUSE I’M COOL)

PROLOGUE?! < <

“sorry students, the projector is currently out of order so i’d like for all of you to just go through the powerpoint on your own. feel free to come up and ask questions.” the professor sighs as he closes his laptop and settles down onto his desk, the chatter of other students and laptop keyboards create the perfect white noise for your 8AM lecture.

you weren’t really that keen on studying this period anyway so you’ll just get it done later but god he looked so much better up close. why did miguel have to be so fucking dorky and hot and cool all at fucking once? it bothered you that miguel has never spoken to you. ever. but with that in mind, no one would ever think of the effect this nerd had on you, not even the nerd himself.

“oi mate, mandem depending on you to pass this class.” you shake your head after you’re slightly shoved to the side of your desk by none other than your best friend bad influence. hobie, hobie, hobie… you groan as you look his way, legs propped up on the desk as if he’s completely unaware that he’s in an lecture hall. next to him is peter, trying to shove hobie’s legs off the table for fear of accidentally hitting miguel who was seated right infront of you.

peter and hobie were the angel and devil on your shoulder that manifested into your closest friends. it was so hard to make friends (partially because you weren’t interested in anyone aside from miguel) and that everyone in your class were already in tight knit friend groups, and it was clear they all wanted to keep it that way with the silent treatment and one-sided conversations. but that didn’t matter. what did matter was that neither of them were taking this class seriously.

hobie - for god knows what reason - just took the class for fun. well, hobie took it out of spite. he said and you quote, “it is my take on deconstructing the stereotypes and preconceptions of particular social groups alongside us punks that dictate that we lack the desire and strive for academic feats”. and you know what? for someone who likes to laze around and count the panels of wood used on the ceiling for half the lecture, his high grades put his narrow-minded folks to shame. oh and peter? although he couldn’t afford to skip his classes, he did anyway. mary jane, MJ - the mother to his children, as he calls her - is in the humanities elective they both share. and peter might as well skip that class instead of looking at MJ as if she invented humanities. you don’t know how watching you and hobie bicker was a better investment of peter’s time but no one was complaining. someone had to remind the both of you of operation miguel mutation, or in other words, get his gaze out of his books and onto your face.

“so much for wanting to prove the world wrong when you’re relying on someone else to do it for you”, you scoffed at hobie, pretending to brush dust off your shoulders. he chuckled, “i just wanted to know how it feels to be those good for nothing, narcissistic capitalists, is all”. you shoved him so hard it rattled your seats and you didn’t even realise you accidentally kicked miguel’s seat until his cold hard gaze towards you even made hobie look like an art piece in the middle of rendering.

“can i help you?”, fuuuuuuck off. he sounds so fucking hot. insanely hot.

his large pitch black frames could never obstruct how chiseled miguel was, he had angular features such as his nose, his jawline and even his cupid’s bow. but these features were softened with warm red eyes and wisps of his hair coming down to frame his forehead. o’hara’s face overall was slightly scrunched, his hand gripped onto the fold away desk while he faced you, his casual attire in sweats could barely hide his build. his mouth was slightly open, the very tip of his fangs making themselves known. he was definitely a specimen, a gorgeous specimen for lack of better word. you didn’t even realise you were staring at miguel until he raised his eyebrow and glanced over at hobie, then over to peter who was just happily content watching your unplanned, unconventional first meeting.

“oh. um, no?”, you were still confused why miguel (the man you’ve been trying to get the attention of ever since the first inkling of a feeling), suddenly turned around and spoke to you—

“excuse me, may i ask that you don’t disrupt your peers during class? i’m watching you too, brown.” if your teacher scolding you like a wack ass boy in year 9 wasn’t enough to make you embarrassed, your quick descent into realising that you quite literally pushed yourself - pushed miguel, rather - to make the first move. in the worst fucking way possible. you ducked your head a bit in an attempt to avoid the gazes of your classmates only to find your shoe jammed between the gap next to miguel’s seat, missing his elbow by a mere few centimetres.

you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

so much for devising a plan to properly introduce yourself by actually trying in class by answering the lecturers questions, to the point miguel can’t help but wonder that there is in fact competition. aware of his competitive nature, miguel would try to get ahead of you or widen that gap but then realise he was all wrong from the moment you’d tap his shoulder for a question you pretend to not understand, to look as if you’re struggling so much miguel can ignore his own studies for a little while to help you. men are stupid after all. miguel doesn’t apply here but being an outcast adjacent of the entire university has its benefits, in a way where it benefits your elaborate plan from stroking miguel’s ego by helping you, to ever so slightly become more and more interested in you. once you slowly ease into getting out of pretending to be an academic victim and miguel finds the joy in being academically challenged by the one girl who braved the odds and approach the mysterious mutant, he’d ask to you to meet at the cafeteria or the library. it didn’t matter. you would then, finally then, be in miguel’s line of sight.

“if this is your way of trying to get into my pants, i’m not interested.”

papers were stuffed into bags and the squeaking of chairs reverberated the lecture theatre. people were making their way to their next class while peter, hobie and yourself shared looks of disbelief, disgust, along with hobie’s infamous expression that scream the words i fucking told you so.

what the fuck? what the actual fuck was that?

o’hara didn’t miss a beat and swivelled around to start packing his belongings, completely unaware of how his response alone completely changed and destroyed all prior preconceptions about this man - or boy as you would now call him - turns out being smart never stopped anyone from being dickhead.

you felt like you just failed a quiz you didn’t know that was happening, despite being prepared to ace it.

it wasn’t like you to fail, however. especially not to him.

[ 🩷 — TAGS! @angelicful @lilipads @zaunsin @m4dyy @okkotszn @rhythmloid @cosmicbarstardust @thespaceinbetweennothing @cu1tvenus @huniedeux @oharasfilipinawife @ilovemuppets @loonalockley ] feel free to comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[pinkhelados]

ty to all the people on discord who contributed to this :3

kitty!miguel who’s sense of smell is heightened. If you’re not home for whatever reason, he’ll naturally gravitate to the areas of the house where your scent lingers. His nose guides him to your bedroom and he plops down onto the bed. Big, hulking arms wrapping around your pillow as he takes a deep breath. It smells just like his beloved, he thinks. Miguel closes his eyes, purring contently with his tail flicking back and forth.

kitty!miguel who can help but grow aroused after a bit. He’s never been demanding with sex. You’re both busy people, often too tired to fuck so he’s fine with doting on each other. However, it’d been a while and even he knew he needed his release without having to be in heat. His cock twitched slightly as your smell began to smell more and more delectable. Miguel groaned, fangs barred against your pillow as his hips begun to move against it. He shouldn’t do this- you’d kill him if you found him rutting into your pillows like a…degenerate.

kitty!miguel who’s instincts drive him to please. He could cum from just imagining your teary eyes as he drags his girthy cock in and out of your cunt, cum being forced to dribble out when he pours his third load inside you. Miguel shivered, tail wagging and ears twitching. His claws had come out and torn into the pillow but his hips thrusted into it. This felt good but it wasn’t the same, he wanted to fuck you. Make you whine and groan with white-hot pleasure. Hell- he didn’t even need to be inside you, he thought as his hips sped up. He’d be content with just lapping at your weeping pussy with your hands scratching the ears on his head. He could envision your gentle praises of how good of a boy he was, how good he made you feel.

kitty!miguel who’s fluffy ears stood up at the sound of jingling keys. He discarded the pillow and rushed over to the door. “Hey,” you smiled, giving your big kitty a hug but…that’s odd. “You okay? You’re really warm….” Your hands gently brushed the brown curls sticking to his sweaty forhead. His hair was all messy and his chest heaved, pupils wide and blown now reduced to slits. Miguel’s fluffy tail enveloped your thigh, pulling you to his chest. You knew what was up. “Need help?” You offered gently, brushing his shirt upwards to stroke the trail of hair going down his tummy to which Miguel responded with a gentle purr. “Please.”

[pxgeturner]

The manager at Gimnasio Dorado has just posted a peek at his file and boxing stats for double world champ “THE BEAR” O’HARA. here it is!:

[lymmsweb]

You call the shots babe, i just wanna be yours

🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader

🕷word count : 1199

🕷tags : mutual pining, makeout session, slight angst

🕷summary : Miguel needs a quick break, you’re the only one that can get him to get a breath of fresh air.

Miguel had been cooped up in his office at the Spider HQ reviewing reports on potential threats to the multiverse, he had a admirable work ethic that was near impossible to break him out of, that was one of the traits many respected him for. Bags were starting to form under his eyes as the silence of the night filled the air until Lyla would chime in a statistic or overview, he paid no mind to his slight fatigue and continued typing and swiping away at the holographic screens. Lost in thought he didn’t hear your soft footsteps become louder and close in on him, a warm coffee filled mug you had made him was slightly burning your fingertips as you held onto it.

“Miguel?” you called out to him, making him smile to himself at the sound of your voice. He stopped what he was reading, turning around to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” he questioned with concern, no malice laced in his tone “It’s so late.” He took you in, the way your hair was ruffled just the right amount, the way the moonlit night casted blue shadows on your best features and how you always greeted him with a smile.

You handed him the mug, his eyes lighting up as his fingers touched yours momentarily “You’ve been in here all day, I haven’t seen you at all!” A bittersweet feeling dried up his mouth, he was glad you thought of him but he felt like he should push you away as to avoid heartbreak, he knew that most of the time in every dimension Spiderman’s love life was a cruel joke.

“I’ve been working.” he brought the mug to his lips taking a sip of the coffee, not once breaking eye contact “Thanks.” He grimaced slightly, he hated coffee though he’d never tell you that.

“Take a break Mi-” you tried to reason

“I’ve got too much work.” he tried to make any excuse as to not give in

“Please?’ you leaned closer to him, inviting and tempting him. He stared hard. His heart beat in a frenzy, he heard how the pulse quickened in his ears yet his poker face wasn’t even slightly cracking. His mind raced from all the different outcomes that you could tangle him in or, all the situations he had to untangle in his work, his inhibition slowly crumbling away every second he felt your warmth radiating into him.

“Please.” you softly pleaded placing your hand on his wrist, sending electrical like shocks to him that make a shiver run down his spine. He finally felt how his eyes ached, his head hurt and his suit felt unbearingly uncomfortable.

“Fine, fine you win,” he took another sip of the drink, resisting the urge to gag “where do you want to go?”

You let him go and pondered for a bit, nothing would be open at these late hours and he desperately needed an escape from the stuffy air indoors. “We could climb to the roof?” you suggested, he simply gave you a curt nod and you two started walking through the long passageways of the HQ in a comfortable silence. Almost no one was there at the time, only a handful of Spider-people stayed to catch up with old friends.By the time you two made it outside he had already finished the drink you gave him, placing it on a random table you two passed by.

“See how good the air feels?” you exclaimed, sticking to the side of the building by your feet and started to walk up it as if gravity did not apply to you. He watched you, your hair drooped down exposing more of your features, the carefree way you carried yourself and how much his heart burned with passion. Once you were a couple meters above him he jumped up too, right alongside you. He straightened his back as he matched your pace, his eyes staring blankly at the moon and stars that shon brightly whilst the air started to freshen his mind up. All that could be heard was the sound of cars drifting by as if they were in no rush, the apartments surrounding the tall building had some rooms illuminated in bright colours, adding a sense of personality to the charming view.

“Thanks.” he glanced over to you, trying his best to be sneaky.

“For what?” you looked over to him, he was staring at you like he was star struck. Miguel’s eyes wandered to your lips, eyes and blushed cheeks as every syllable escaped your mouth.

“I never realized how beautiful…” he hesitated, unsure of what would spill out of his mouth “Nueva York is at night.” A disappointed sigh escaped his lips as he finished his statement, he couldn’t care less on what Nueva York looked like. Breaking away from his gaze you looked around, the ground looked so far away that cars looked like small insects passing by in an orderly line. All the stars illuminated you two and the building you were scaling, only a couple meters from the very top a rush of excitement passed over you. You responded to him with a small noise of agreement as you finally made it to the top. Sitting down as you looked at the city he fought so hard to protect, he sat down with you too, shoulders touching each other without either of you saying a word. His muscles relaxed into your touch. Each breath he took the fatigue was slowly catching up to him.

“Por dios it’s been ages since i’ve felt like this.” he shifted his leg so it was pressed up against yours whilst he fiddled with his fingers

“You need,” looking over to him your faces were mere inches apart, he never once stopped looking at you. His lips were parted showing just the tip of his fangs, his breath smelt like black coffee and his red eyes were mixing beautifully with the blue hues of the night. His suit retracted just so his bare hands were on display, bringing them to your lips and gently felt your lips “a break.” you breathlessly finished your sentence just before he closed the distance, his chapped lips gracefully glided against yours whilst his hands held your jaw in place. He turned his body to lean into the kiss more, effectively shielding you from the cool air as he covered you with his body. your hands roamed from his waist all the way up to his hair, slightly tugging it which drove him crazy. A sudden feeling of hunger took control over him, he roughly deepened the kiss as his hands started to push you into him from the nape of your neck. His fangs slightly nicked your tongue which resulted in a faint metallic taste mixed with your saliva. The lack of air was making your lungs scream for oxygen. Placing your hands on his chest you firmly pushed him signaling him to stop which he understood almost immediately, both of you were left breathless afterwards, panting and smiling as you two just looked at each other.

“Guess i should take more breaks?”

a/n: Por dios - For god’s sake. I got the title from this song! Any criticism is welcome and i didnt proofread too in depth:) Also huge brainrot for this himbo

[aesthetic-bbyg]

CHIQUITITA ~ Miguel O.

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

He’s your dads best friend, and he’s suppose to be nothing more then that, but you two can’t seem to get enough of eachother.

SMUT ~ oral (fem receiving), lots of smirking, Miguel be a lil perv nd watching the reader change, lots of flirting nd pet names!

Miguel O’hara your dads best friend, was staying with your family for a few weeks. You were already familiar with the man, he watched you grow up into the young adult you are today. He celebrated with you when you got into you’re dream college, he let you have you’re first sip of alcohol and never told you’re father, he always said that you were his favorite out of all your siblings.

The same man you’ve had around you’re whole life was also the same man you’d thought about at night when your fingers were shoved into your panties, rubbing desperately at the bundle of nerves. Miguel was the same man who stole sneaky glances at you, watching as you passed by him in a mini skirt, or eye fucking you whenever he could, all while thinking that you didn’t know.

You weren’t stupid, there was definitely a sexual tension that grew when the occasional joking comment turned a bit flirty. It was always a rush between the two of you whenever the commonly repeated words, what if someone catches us is chanted as he kisses your soft lips. Miguel was the man you’ve always dreamt of, but you knew that nobody could ever know of the actions that happened whenever you’re father was locked up in his office, working on some project.

There’s a sharp knock on your bedroom door, followed by that smooth, familiar voice you’ve grown fond of. Miguel’s tall frame caught your sight as he slowly opened the door. “Hola, chiquitita, I’m going down to the pool.” He stepped into the room already in his swim shorts, a towel and sunblock in his hand. “Do you want to come with me?”

You sat up and forgot about the phone in you’re hand, “You know I’d never turn down an offer to swim, Miggy.”

“Muy bien, then come here and help me put sunscreen on my back, mi vida.” Miguel smirked as he watched you stand from the bed.

You pulled him into your room, shutting the door and grabbing the bright bottle from his hand, you feigned a annoyed. “Siempre necesitando mi ayuda.”

Miguel chuckled as the door was shut, he didn’t protest you shutting it, he’d been waiting for a moment to be alone with you. “Well, are you gonna help me, chiquitita?” He moved close, his breath lightly caressing your neck. He always knew how to get you red as a cherry, it fed his ego whenever you cowered under his gaze.

“Turn around.”

Miguel turned around, his shirtless body always amazed you, he was a large, muscular man that liked to keep in shape. His skin was beautifully tanned, his body covered in tattoos, a few new scratches and bruises. You opened the bottle of sunscreen and gently smeared it on his muscly back, you were right where he wanted you, your touch against his skin causing him to shiver slightly. You neatly manicured fingers trailed throughout his back, making sure to get sunscreen all along his back, your hands even lingering occasionally as you subtly his massaged back.

Miguel’s breath caught in his throat, he resisted letting out a groan, your lingering fingers made his body tingle. The manicured hands that he paid for running up and down him made him squirm. He was powerless to your touch, even with all the muscles, his mind racing to imagine other scenarios. The smell of sunscreen filled the room as Miguel closed his eyes, forcing himself to not ask you to keep touching him. You could feel him tense up when you pulled your hands away, rubbing the access sunscreen on your arms.

“I need change into my bathing suit, but you’re returning the favor and helping me put on sunscreen too okay?” You pointed a finger at him as he turned around, smirking like a smug little shit.

“Buenos pues, chiquitita.” Miguel chuckled, trying to hide just how much your touch turned him on. “Gracias, by the way.“ he stepped out the room, but you left the door wide open, honestly not caring if he watched or not. He waited just outside, though from the angle he was standing at a mirror reflected all the was going on inside. He kept an eye on your as you undressed and put on the skimpy bikini, you knew what you were doing. His eyes glued to you in the reflection, his focus mainly on your body as you tied on the bikini top, tits beautiful displayed. When you finally came out of the room, he straightens up his posture and whistled. “You look good in that, chiquitita.”

You let out soft giggles, twirling swiftly to give him a full view, “Gracias, no soy la niñita que era.” You held out the bottle, a smirk on your face.

Miguel chuckled as he took the sunscreen from your hands and started applying it to your body.“No, you aren’t little anymore. You’re a woman that I’ve watched grow up, but you’ll always be mi hermosa chiquitita.” He was careful and gentle, making sure to take his time with it. The mix between his words and the movement of his hands made you flustered. Miguel knew what he was doing. Once he finally finished applying the sunscreen he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “Let’s go to the pool. We’ve already spent too much time inside.” He allowed you to step front of him, “Las chiquititas primero.”

You chuckled softly, “Gracias, papi.”

Miguel smirked but didn’t acknowledge the remark. Instead, he just laughed as he trailed behind you, your bikini accentuating your body. His eyes fell on your ass, you confident strides down the hallway and stairs making him hold back on reaching over to grab it. You could feel his eyes and it only made you smirk. “Enjoying the view, Miggy?”

Miguel laughed softly, his face flush. “How do you know it’s you that has me distracted?” Miguel shrugged as you opened the sliding door, his mind racing when you continued to walk in front of him.

“Don’t think I don’t see where your eyes are looking, plus you’ve got a little drool just right there.” You teased, pointing at the corner of his mouth with a smile. You put down the towel and sunglasses on one of the chaise lounge chairs.

He looked down at the pool and back at you, hiding his smile, he didn’t want to admit that you were completely right. He opted on teasing you back, “Little diablita. If you keep teasing me like that, I’ll have to do something about it.”

“Oh yeah, and what would that be.” You challenged, walking closer to him as you smirked.

Miguel copied the smirk on your lips, looking down at them, so plump and pink just for him. “Would it be wrong for me to kiss that smartass, teasing mouth of yours chiquitita?”Miguel moved closer, closing the little space between the two of you.

“Only if ya get caught, papi.”

Miguel’s smirk widened. He looked down at your face for a second, deciding whether he should care if he gets caught or not. He moved his head to your ear and whispered, knowing it was one of your weaknesses. “Well maybe I don’t care about getting caught right now.” Miguel’s breath was warm against you as his free hand gently pulling you towards him.

You grinned, he was right on the edge of the pool, in the perfect position, your hands were planted on his muscly chest. You had an idea. “Oh yeah?” Before he could come up with another teasing reposen you pushed his body and watched as he fell into the water, a splash of water followed after.

Miguel went from smug and proud, to confused and shocked in a matter of seconds. As he fell into the pool he hissed, cold water quickly soaking his body. You could see his annoyed expression when his head popped up from the water. “Maldita sea!” His face dripping in water, he turned to you as your giggling filled his ears. “Estas loca.” He chuckled, admiring you despite you’re cruel actions.

“Loosen up, papi, nomas es un poco de agua.” You made your way towards the steps of the pool, slowly dipping in one foot at a time. You understood why Miguel got so agitated, the water wasn’t the warmest, it made goosebumps spread throughout your body. Nonetheless you continued on in. You looked towards Miguel you watched your figure as the water reached your waist. His eyes trailed up to your hardened nipples that poked through the fabric of the bikini top.

You’d began to shiver, Miguel sighed and resisted the urge to hold you close. He looked down at your goosebump covered body as you made your way towards him. You reached a hand out towards him, attempting to conceal the slight tremble in your lip from the cold. Miguel took your hand and chuckled, kissing your knuckles. “Tienes frío?”

You nodded, “Y tu no?”

“You’ll get use to it, chiquitita.” You huffed and pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist, you hands coming up to grip his shoulders. Miguel’s eyes widened at your sudden action, it wasn’t what he expected, but he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest, he’d already melted at your touch and went back to o being smug. He wrapped his arm around you, the other one going down to grip your ass he’d been so desperately wanting to squeeze. His mind racing with so many thoughts. “What if someone sees us like this?”

“What happened to not caring if we get caught, hmm?” You smirked, leaning your head back and allowed the water to soak up into your hair, your neck exposed to his wandering eyes.

Miguel chuckled as you leaned back, his lips brushing against your neck briefly. “Well if we continue like this then we’re going to get caught doing more then just being in each others arms.“ He teased your ear with his hot breath, his arms still wrapped around your body. He was feeling bold and decided to press his bulge against your clothed core.

You gasp softly, the grip on his shoulders tightening, you rose your head back up and looked at him. “You’re so hot, y’know that, papi?

Miguel’s muscles tensed up again as he felt your grip tighten on his shoulders, smug smirk painted on his lips. “Gracias, chiquitita.” he chuckled, “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

His eyes were looking at you intensely, not being able to look away. They were locked on your lips, your body, every part of you had Miguel feeling things he was never ready for. You could see it in his fierce eyes, the way his bit his lip, the way he squeezed the soft flesh of your ass.

“Bésame, Miggy.” You wanted to sound confident, like you had control, but the way the fraise left your lips was like a plead. “I know you want to.”

Miguel’s face was flushed and his heart was pounding out of his chest. Hearing you say those words, he couldn’t say no. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to drown in your lips. He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything before. He knew it was wrong, it was filthy kissing the daughter of his longest friends, but it felt so good to have you in his arms. He smiled softly, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. Miguel’s lips gently touched yours, kissing you passionately. The water around you seemed to have warmed up suddenly, you no longer shivered but instead basked in the warmth. Your wet hand cupped his face as you leaned your head to the side, deepening the messy kiss, tongues intertwined in a battle for dominance.

Miguel was in a haze with your lips pressed against his, he was losing himself, every other thought leaving his mind except you. He felt your wet fingers running through his hair, tugging occasionally as you let out sweet sounds.

“I have a feeling that we’re going to end up doing more then just swimming today, papi.” You smirked teasingly, pulling away from the kiss, watching as a single string of salvia connected your lips. Miguel chuckled, biting his lip as his heart still pounded from the kiss. You were right, he already knew what else both of you would do and he knew would be dirty. It consumed his mind, the thought of your head stuffed into a pillow as he pounded from behind made the boner in his shorts so much more painful.

The pulled away from his arms, extending out your legs to swim across the pool. Dunked your head, letting your face meet the cool, chlorine filled water. You turned and caught Miguel looking at you, a smile on his face. “Are you going to make me chase you chiquitita?” He smirked. “Cause that is a game you won’t win.”You squealed as his quick figure swam towards, trapping you in the deep end of the pool, the part where not even the tip of your toes could reach. His strong arms reached to grip your waist, keeping you up, you huffed and rolled your eyes. “Gotcha, now, chiquitita.”

“That wasn’t a fair fight, Miggy, let me go.” You whined, pushing at his chest, though you knew that Miguel wouldn’t budge.

“If I let you go you’ll drown, this is the six foot part of the pool.” Miguel smirked, knowing that he had you trapped and wouldn’t release you no matter how much you begged.

“I can swim.”

“Doggy paddling across the pool isn’t enough proof that you survive this deep.” He remarked, raising a brow as you rolled your eyes. “Drop the attitude, chiquitita.”

“Or what?”

Miguel pushed your bodies to the end of the pool, he propped you up on the ledge, your wet bottom soaking into concrete. You looked down, nervously watching as he pried your legs open, his face right where you always wanted him to be. “So quiet now, aren’t you diablita?”

You perched an eyebrow up, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Not afraid of getting caught, huh, Miggy?”

“I believe you should be the one that’s scared of being caught, Chiquitita, I mean look at you. Spreading your legs desperately like a dirty whore for your dads bestfriend?” Miguel smirked, shaking his disapprovingly, “I’ll have you begging me to eat this pretty cunt.”

You were far too stubborn to give in, “Why would I have to beg when I know you want to, you’re dying for it, aren’t you, papi?”

He let out a low chuckle, you weren’t sure if you were suppose to be terrified or relieved, either way, you were getting water by the moment and need something. Anything. “You caught me, chiquitita, but it doesn’t mean I’ll give in so easily. Even if I’m ‘dying’ for it.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, throwing your bed back as you heard Miguel’s chest vibrate in laughter at your antics. “Eres tan enfadoso, sabias? I might just have to leave and go fuck my fingers into this cunt since you’re being such an asshole about this.”

“Frustrated aren’t we?” Miguel rested his hands on you’re thighs, spreading them apart further to get a view of your pussy, despite it being covered by your floral bathing suit bottom. “You fuck yourself thinkin’ of me?”

You rested against one hand, behind you, the other one creeped towards you bottoms. “Mhmm, since such a whore I fuck myself nearly every night, imaging it was your cock.” He watched as you lowered your hand, you’re fingers teasing your clit for a few moments before it began to pump in and out of your wet hole. “Just like this.”

Miguel had to force back a moan, watching you writhe, him such inches away from you as your eyes such in pleasure. “Do you call out my name?”

“Fuck, yes—Miguel, yes.” As you moaned out his name he suddenly reached for your wrist, tightly squeezing it as an uncontrollable desire burned in his dark pupils.

“Enough.” He growled, forcing you to drag your fingers out of you, a quiet huff passing your lips. “It’s my turn, chiquitita.” His senses were fogged up with lust, he could feel his mouth watering already as he pushed the fabric of your bikini bottom to the side. The sight of your dripping pussy practically called his name, he glanced up at you awaiting approval.

“Por favor, papi.” You whined, lifting a hand to run through his wet hair, it didn’t take a him a second to dive in. His pink tongue already out and licking at your clit teasingly before his pretty lips sucked on it. He was getting pussy drunk at the taste of your juices, eating you out like a mad man. His hands coming up to hook around your thighs and squeeze them, also making sure that they were kept apart.

“Fucking hell, chiquitita, you taste so good.” He grumbled, the muffled vibrations of his voice barley processing in your brain as you let out a pathetic whine in response. “No boy can ever eat this cunt like I can.” You tugged in his hair tighter, eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung open. Miguel never removed his eyes off you, it was the part of his face you could see, his nose bumped into your clit while his tongue worked wonders, insetting itself into your dripping hole.

The sounds were filthy, you could hear a continuous squelch of your wet cunt already enough to expose you if anyone came home. If that wasn’t loud, then maybe your moans would definitely alert a neighbor or two. Yet, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything else then the piercing brown eyes that gazed up at you, so soft and loving despite his dirty actions. His mouth pushing more and more to the edge, your breathing was quick, someone could’ve assumed that you’d just ran a mile but it was just because of Miguel O’hara’s mouth.

“Asi, asi!” You moaned out, legs beginning to tighten around his head, you eyes breaking away from his as you threw your hand back once more. Your hips began to grind against his face, he chuckled at your desperation, the vibrations of the noise enough to make you cum. “Fuck, Miguel!” You let out one last, pornographic moan before you spilled into his inviting mouth, you twitched as he licked you up, making sure to get every last drop you had to offer before he pulled away. His whole chinned drenched in your cum and arousal, it made you blush, but he only smirked. He wiped it away with the back of his veiny hand before he leaned up to kiss you, his tongue tasted of you.

“Estas bien, chiquitita?” He muttered softly, pulling away from the kiss and trialing them down your from your cheek, to your jaw and then to your neck. You hummed in response, twisting the dark curls around your finger as pulled back to look at you. It was his favorite thing to do, especially after you came. You eyelids half open, a doopy smile unconsciously stretching on your lips, and how soft your voice was.

The sound of the sliding door opening caused you to jump, Miguel suddenly sinking himself into the water and sailing to the opposite side of the pool. Your father walked into the yard, a big grin on his face. “Mi amor, what are you doing out here?”

“Uh..j-just trying to get a tan.” You stuttered out, subtly adjusting your bottom as you stared up at your dad innocently.

“Be sure to wear lots of sunscreen, you don’t want to end up like me, old and wrinkly.” He let out a chuckle, glancing over at his best friend who was mindlessly swimming around, completely ignoring what just occurred moments ago. “Miguel, cómo está la alberca?”

“Perfecta.” Miguel replied, “We still on for that cookout tonight?”

“You know it, I actually just got back from el super y agarre la carne.” Your father was so clueless, you almost pitied him for be so blind of the tension between you two. “Be ready by six, mija, todas tus tías vienen a verte.”

You gave him a bright smile, nodding in response as he walked back into the home, sliding the door shut behind him. Your eyes drifted back to Miguel who’s already began to exit the pool, his toned body dripping of the chlorinated water. His pushed away the strands of hair that covered his eyes before reaching for his red and blue towel. It made you squeeze your legs together, a new wave of arousal hitting you once more. He came towards you, a bright pink towel in his hand and a smug smirk on his face.

As you stood he draped the material onto your shoulders, let it protect you from the slight breeze that blew over the city. “Gracias.” You mumbled, quietly walking back inside but before you could place a hand on the door handle Miguel gripped your elbow.

His tall figure leaned down, hot breath grazing over the shell of your ear. “If you ever need me to fuck your pretty pussy when your fingers can’t satisfy you, give me a call chiquitita.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, leaving you to process his words.

authors note: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN😍😍😍😍 btw I was too lazy to do the translation IM SORRY I love y’all tho🫶🏼

[oharamwah]

going to build a bear workshop with miggy !

♡ — day out : taking miguel out to spoil him quickly turns into miguel spoiling you. → 0.9k

boyfriend!miguel x gn!reader

contents : just fluffy boyfriend miguel not knowing how to enjoy himself

posted july 28th - to be edited !

© oharamwah, please do not steal my work.

“ooh ooh, let’s go here!” you exclaim, dragging your boyfriend by the hand towards your favourite store — the build-a-bear workshop.

miguel knows very well that he could stop you from leashing him around the mall like you have the entire day, but he doesn’t. the excitement on your face prevents him from resisting.

“another toy store?” he groans, “i just bought you 5 plushy cats.”

“i won’t be too long, i’ll just look.” you say glancing over your shoulder.

he looks at you with a sweet smile. he really does enjoy being out with you, it’s such a contrast to being cooped up in his office all day.

“besides, this store’s special.”

the two of you prance in (though it’s mainly you doing the prancing) and you immediately let go of his hand, too excited to even think. you feel like a child in those commercial candy stores — all the bright colours and joyful music makes your heart beat out of your chest. you’re elated to be here, gasping every time you turn your head.

miguel recognizes this, and any underlying annoyance in his heart is replaced with pure love. the sight of you and your inner child heals a certain part of his heart, and all he can think is ‘how could anyone not love this?’

“look!” you squeal, holding up a black cat toy, squeezing it right in front of his face.

miguel caresses the back of your head, his hand leading down to your waist. “another cat?”

“but loooook,” you whine, “it has your teeth!”

miguel was too busy looking at you to process the toy you were holding. the teeth really did resemble his fangs.

miguel rolls his eyes, “very funny, babe.”

“i want this one.”

he sighs, “you’re serious?”

you nod enthusiastically.

“but you barely looked at the other options.”

“but this one reminds me of you!”

miguel chuckles, “i guess i can’t argue with that.”

you spend an entire half hour wandering the store and picking out accessories, miguel trailing behind you with a basket full of baby sized clothes.

miguel starts to think that maybe this isn’t so bad — he’s grown fond of this shop, mainly because it’s almost like a window into your future together, having your own children and all. he feels so fond of the moments you’re spending in a kid’s store.

##

by the time you reach the stuffing stage, miguel’s hands are full. you’ve picked out a multitude of cute clothing, hats, and silly glasses for the cat. ‘this can’t be that expensive can it?’ he thinks.

“hi there,” the worker greets you with a smile.

“hello!” you cheer, and miguel just smiles.

“i’d like to stuff this one, please.” you hand her the cat toy.

“sure thing, hun.”

the two of you watch as the lady stuffs the cat with the stuffing machine. you’re hand is firmly squeezing miguel’s forearm, smiling as if watching your actual child being made. miguel laughs.

“did they have to use the most phallic machine to stuff these things..” he mutters and you slap his arm. “miggy.” you scold, laughing with him.

the lady finishes up and gestures you to come closer.

“here, sweetie, now pick out a heart.”

you let go of miguel’s arm and look at the small basket full of red and pink stuffed hearts, a small gasp escaping your mouth.

“can i pick two?” you ask. the lady glances at you, then at miguel, and then grins.

“of course, go ahead.”

you step toward miguel and grab his hand, bringing him over to the heart basket. “here miggy, pick one.” you say. he follows your orders with a small smile on his face.

miguel takes a second before picking up a small red heart and handing it to you.

“no no, you have to kiss it first.” you explain.

“kiss it?”

“uh huh,” you say, kissing the heart you picked out, “like that.”

miguel scoffs, ‘i can’t believe i’m doing this.’ he thinks. but does he do it? of course he does.

he presses the heart to his lips, his eyes locked on yours, then he smiles at you. “like that?”

you nod. miguel hands you the heart and you place both hearts inside the cat. the lady begins to seal it.

miguel can’t take his eyes off of you. he’s got this terribly smitten look on his face; his gaze is so soft and his cheeks are starting to ache from smiling at you all day.

the worker finishes up the cat and hands it to you, guiding you to the birth certificate station.

you find a seat on the child-sized chairs and begin typing out the certificate, and miguel who is too big for the chairs is kneeling right beside you.

“what are you gonna name it, angel?” he asks, his chin rested on his hand, that same lovely look in his eyes.

you think, then you realize,

“awww, angel would be perfect. or princess miguel?”

he looks unimpressed, “your options are angel and princess miguel?”

“mhm, but i like princess miguel better.” you nod, already halfway through typing it out. all miguel can do is sigh and shake his head.

now all that’s left for you to do is pay.

you already had your wallet out and ready to sacrifice a fraction of your recent pay check, but miguel refuses.

“i got it, sweetheart.” he says, slightly egotistical. but all colour washes from his face the cash register reads $104.

“you still got it?” you ask, and miguel looks at you, then closes his eyes before tapping his card.

##

miguel spends the rest of your trip at the mall a little poutier than usual, but the delighted smile on your face as you cuddled “princess miguel” close to your chest was all he needed to know that any price is worth paying for his favourite person.

a/n : thank u anon for this absolutely adorable request, i rly enjoyed writing it !!! ♡ and once again, if there are any issues with the gendering or racial descriptions (though i try to avoid those) pls let me know ! hope u guys likeeee

[lalah-cupcake]

bite bite

[tvgals]

plumber husband! miguel who you met seven years ago when he’d came over to fix your sink. you were a cute and impressionable 21 year old, biting your nails in anxiety of the cost.

plumber husband! miguel who only shook his head and chuckled at the sight of you, in a pair of booty shorts and a tank top. miguel watched as you poured him a glass of pink lemonade into a mug and handed it to him.

plumber husband! miguel who married you and now you get free plumbing services.

plumber husband! miguel who always gets a reward from you when he does a good job on fixing the sink or the toilet. the reward either being your pussy, mouth, or ass.

plumber husband! miguel who often breaks appliances on purpose, just so he can fix it and get his much needed reward.

[cupcakeinat0r]

Miguel who doesn’t use any social media but downloads it just to follow you and like n comment on ur pictures. He only follows one person and has one follower: you <3

[iiovserii]

miguel o’hara au where he replaces another version of him but this time he has a wife. unfortunately for him though, his little gabriella seems to like her mama slightly more then him and he can’t seem to grasp the idea of going from a single father who makes the rules to having a sweet, devoted wife who would do anything for their daughter and for him, running the house like the military 🤔

[solurae]

four eyes (more to love underneath the frames) : prologue

nerd!miguel o’hara is the talk of the town and i wanna put my own spin on it :D sooo expect a little bit of everything hehe :DDD - HAHA AS I WAS WRITING THIS I REALISED I GOT TOO INVESTED SETTING THE SCENE SO I MIGHT MAKE THIS A SERIES! i’ll just say this is a prologue hooray

IF YOU WOULD LIKE A SERIES PLS INTERACT!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK TOO TO SHARE YOUR MIGGY THOUGHTS AND I WILL HAPPILY INDULGE US BOTH :3

a distinct pair of black, rectangular glasses were adjusted by miguel’s middle finger before it glided across the pages of notes he wrote from the lecture for his genetics class. a class that you both happen to share, but neither of you knew that yet.

miguel o’hara - a man so deep in his books that he might as well be the dean of the dean’s list - payed no heed to anyone or anything that could hinder his focus. the furrowing of brows indicated further analysis rather than the annoyance towards second year business majors. no, he wasn’t the annoying, stuck-up person who would ask more questions than give answers. he thinks they’re wasting their time anyway. he was always the last person to leave the lecture theatre. miguel would be huddled by the professor, covering the whiteboard with punnett squares or outlining control variables for the next lab.

he was only person in your genetics class that had a real chance of passing the course, the scowls of your peers and your friends could attest to that.

you wouldn’t say you were on the same boat as everyone though, your friends were always nagging you to help them but you couldn’t even figure out how you understood some of the content. this specific course was an integral part of your degree and the best chance of impressing the school, you had to give it your all.

you would be lying if genetic sequences and chromosomes weren’t the only things you had memorised. you loved the hue of brown locks that would shine from the tall windows of the theatre, the curls which your eyes would follow forever if he happened to sit in front of you. the pout of his lips as he’d scratch his hair in response to a lab practical that didn’t make sense, only for him to make sense of it hours later.

his eyes were red. it was his most defining feature, and a key factor to why - to your advantage, if you really think about it - people steer clear of o’hara. as much as it increases your chances of befriending him, let alone being with him, your classmates and other students weren’t so quiet about their dislike for the irish-mexican spectacle.

he’s so quiet. too quiet.

he looks like a freak! look at his eyes, bro. what is he some fucking vampire or something?

no wonder he’s on the dean’s list because he isn’t on anyone else’s for sure.

god he’s just so…

weird.

miguel was extremely fit, which was what confused a lot of people when they found out he wasn’t a copy-paste jock that still thinks they’re in highschool like most men of his stature were. his build put them to shame regardless. after being bombarded by women and men of every cohort - only for miguel to ignore them or coldly decline - word spread like wildfire and soon enough people were disappointed that the former heart-throb of first and second year turned out to be a major loser. some people would go out of their way to show how much they don’t like him, and these are people miguel’s never even spoken to. they would “crash” into him walking across campus, try and trip him over and even go as far as sitting on the other side of the room if it wasn’t so clear already.

but he didn’t mind. he was always at the library, the lab or the cafeteria closest to the lab anyway. it bothered you to see him alone and quiet unless he had a question or an answer, you genuinely wanted to be friends with him.

but as the story goes, it’s always these type of men that have a part of themselves they keep under wraps. you just know that there’s more to his brooding and stoic nature, the carnelian shades of his eyes lured you closer as opposed to keeping you away.

you decided to do honours for two reasons: a better resume and the fact that miguel unsurprisingly decided to do it too. you had a thesis in your head and you had all year to test it out.

miguel o’hara was more than just some nerd and you were gonna need more than glasses to prove it.

🩷 — PART ONE!