#miguel o'hara x you

[danilights2021]

Holy Fuck fuck🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥

The Surrogate: Part III

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

You woke up barely able to feel your own body. It was like you were just a head floating in a cotton void, soft, numb, and still. You breathed in and out through your mouth, lightly drooling on the pillow as your body regained feeling inch by inch, minute by minute.

In that sweet space between waking and dreams you felt nothing. You were just drifting away, away—

“COME ON PAPA, HURRY UP!”

Your eyes shot open as a young girl’s voice echoed in from under your bedroom door.

God, you were so sore.

You were still Miguel and Peter’s spare room, or as they’d declared it, your room.

You barely remembered falling asleep. You remembered vaguely that at around 2am you’d hit your limit, having taken both men approximately 3 to 4 times each, and Peter had tenderly made sure you were comfortable and safe before they both left.

You moved your leg across the bed and flushed as you felt it hit a wet patch to your left. Huh. Peter must have shifted you out of it so you could sleep. You didn’t even want to think about how messy that side was.

You yawned and rubbed your face as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Well, it was done. Or at least, it was started. You’d officially had sex with them both, multiple times, unprotected, while ovulating. It hit you quite hard how serious this was, how serious it’d gotten. You’d had fun last night but now dawn was breaking, and you’d have to start planning your day, thinking about how every step you took their seed was in your womb right now, possibly creating some strange amalgamation baby.

It also hit you that… you wanted to do it again. You wanted them both, you wanted those two men on you, inside you, breaking the bed with their firm, aggressive thrusts, filling you until there was no more room.

Your face flushed violently. You’d hoped you’d at least enjoy the baby-making part, since it’d suck to just have to put up with it for the money, but… you hadn’t expected to enjoy yourself THIS much, right?

Right…?

Was it, wrong, to enjoy yourself this much? You were supposed to just be here as their surrogate, their support, but you could feel your gut tightening at the thought of both men. You felt a small pang of anxiety. You knew you were supposed to be professional, so why could you not stop your mind from wandering?

Your concentration was broken when you heard voices from behind your closed door.

‘Shh! Shh, look- you deal with the girls, I’ll go make sure they’re okay.’

That was Peter speaking, you thought. You could quite easily pick up his voice now. Wait, so both men were awake? Did they think you were still asleep? Then you heard something more.

‘PAPA!’

That was the girls. They must have been dropped home this morning at some point while you were blacked out. You instinctively ducked beneath the sheets.

‘Yes, mi amor! Just a minute, go put your shoes on!’ said another low male voice. Your heart fluttered a little; that was Miguel. He appeared to be calling to who you presumed must be Gabi, before he returned to whispering with Peter. ‘Ay Dios mio- I meant to talk to them though.’

‘I’ll relay the message, big guy. Okay?’

‘Mm... Okay. Fine. Just… Come here, just, quickly—’

You heard a soft, romantic moan as the two presumably kissed against the door. You couldn’t see them, but it sounded like just a quick peck.

‘Muy guapo’ you heard Miguel whisper, his voice just barely audible as it drifted under the door. ‘You know, I kind of hope the baby is yours, biologically.’

‘Oh, really?’

You heard them chuckling and awkwardly shuffled yourself deeper into the sheets. ‘Mhm,’ Miguel confirmed. ‘You make such cute babies. I want to see another one. Pedro’s bebito, eh?’

You felt like you shouldn’t be hearing this, but… It was kind of nice, even if it was a little voyeuristic, and perhaps a little melancholic. You’d been single so long yourself that to hear their soft, romantic platitudes in private was soothing on your own heart. Nobody got to see what they were like alone.

You heard them chuckling again, and this time the door creaked a little. They must be cuddling up against it. ‘But I want another one of you’ Peter whined softly. ‘The red eyes would be so cute. Little red-eyed baby? And the wittle tiny fangs—’

‘Oye, a tiny me will be a tiny nightmare’ Miguel chuckled in a whisper. ‘I’m just glad we’ve got their genes to balance it out, if that happens.’

You blinked. They? Were they talking about you now?

‘Oh, true. Very true. Ah- I hope they’re okay. I was SHOCKED they took as much as they did’ Peter whispered. You felt your face burn up a little as you shuffled down into the sheets, suddenly aware that they thought you were still asleep. You didn’t want to come into their home and look like an eavesdropper.

‘They did a good job, we picked right’ Miguel replied. He sounded happy, despite his professional sounding tone. ‘I agree, that uh- that’s the one issue with it being a friend. I do feel bad about pushing too hard.’

‘Oo, but they liked you though’ Peter said, practically purring as their whispers continued. ‘I could feel it. My big stud did such a good job, you better be careful. You’re gonna ruin them for anyone else.’

Miguel let out a slightly huskier chuckle. ‘What, you want us to keep ‘em?’

You felt your chest grow tight. Something about this whole thing was making you anxious. They were joking about, yes, but… Joking about keeping you? In what way? As the giggling died down, you finally heard Peter’s voice drifting beneath the door once more.

‘They’re pretty aren’t they?’ Peter whispered as low as he could.

‘Ay, Pedrito—’

‘NO, don’t make that face! You know I’m right!’

‘Mm… Yeah, yeah, I know, just- Don’t make me jealous’ Miguel grunted. You heard Peter scoff and felt your face get redder.

Wait, jealous?

‘Don’t make you jealous? You big dummy- You don’t get to look at them with those dark, brooding eyes and then get mad at me for it. You’re my man, and I am yours, heart, body, and soul, but we both know, very well, that our friend is hot, and it’s making the whole thing easier. Mm? Okay? Okay, Mr big soft baby?’

You heard Miguel chuckling again, his soft, dramatic tone now gone. It seems Peter was good at calming him. ‘Mm. Whatever. Maybe you have a point’ he whispered.

‘I always have a point, thank you. Hey, actually, speaking of, uh- I got some time before work if you’re taking the kids. If it’s an option, would you- like me to try and go with them again, or—’

‘No’ Miguel said firmly, quickly shutting Peter down. You tensed a little as you sank into the sheets. ‘No’ he repeated, ‘I want to… watch, if you do. It… mm.’

Your face went bright red as you heard Miguel let out a dark, deeply sensual chuckle, the door creaking as he pushed Peter into it again. ‘You both look, real pretty, when you’re moaning like that. Making me my precious little mjito. Eh? Lemme watch you make it. Don’t tease me.’

You felt your insides flutter and pulse as you listened to Miguel’s filthy little comments about your breeding process, and from the sounds Peter was making he felt the same way.

‘We can try again tonight if they’re willing. But remember, don’t push them. They need to rest’ Miguel said, and you heard him kiss Peter on the forehead. He must have noticed the time as he was suddenly talking much faster, eager to leave.

‘Excuse me, sir, you went four times last night, I only went three. I tapped out first. I’m not the one pushing them’ Peter quietly insisted. You heard Miguel chuckle again.

‘Mm. Okay, you got me there. I did a get a little… overzealous’ he admits, only for his words to be drowned out by the screams and shouts of their daughters. You could hear May and Gabi racing through the house. You felt a slight tug in your heart; you hadn’t considered how you were supposed to interact with them yet either. You just sank deeper into the sheets.

‘Okay, I gotta go. Hasta luego, mi amor’ you heard Miguel murmur, and after what sounded like one final kiss he was gone, calling to the girls to behave and follow. You listened to their voices growing distant until at last the apartment was silent, and only then did you let your guard down.

You collapsed into the sheets and grunted.

For a few minutes, you pondered the conversation you’d overheard in a bit of a daze. The way they talked about you was certainly flattering, which was nice, but, it made you feel weird inside too. It gave you a strange, almost bittersweet form of anxiety.

You buried your face into the pillows, unable to escape the way Miguel’s deep, sensual voice hung in your ears, or the way you remembered Peter’s breath on your back as he worked you, one hand on your neck and one on your hip, curving you like a bowstring.

‘Oh, fuck’ you mumbled to yourself. ‘I’m down so bad…’

‘Hi!’

You almost fell off the edge of the bed you flinched so hard. You spun and glared at the door, only to see Peter giving you that dorky half-smile with the bright, burning light of the sun at his back. You slowly forced yourself to relax.

‘My god… Ah- hey, Peter.’

Peter beamed down at you, his smile sincere. His hair was a mess and he was wearing pyjamas under a loose pink fluffy robe, both of which looked well worn at this point. The man liked the lounge.

‘Good morning, good morning’ he said, practically purring as he crept in and sank down onto the bed beside you. You gazed up at him with curious eyes, trying hard to seem like you just woke up and didn’t hear the two men’s intimate conversation.

‘Ah… ah, good morning Peter—’ you said, stopping to give a fake yawn to sell it further. His soft, sympathetic coos informed you that it worked.

‘Oh! Look at you, so sleepy. I’m sorry to wake you but I wanted to be sure you were okay and just, you know, go over some ground rules for today.’

You blinked and instinctively went to repeat what he said. ‘The what? Ground rules for toda—’

‘OH! But first!’

Before you could even finish your question, Peter had sprung up and hurried back out into the main house, his robe flapping around him as he went. You just chuckled to yourself. What a sweet man.

A few minutes later he threw himself back through the door, now preoccupied with a plate and a glass in his hand he was trying very hard not to spill. He crept over and carefully laid them down on the bedside table. He’d brought you a very simple, plain bagel and coffee.

‘Here, ah- this is what I’d call, pre-breakfast’ he whispered. You blanched a little.

‘Pre, breakfast? What—’

‘Obviously I will feed you more!’ he insisted, both hands raised as he sank down to his knees beside the bed. ‘Or, you can uh- feed yourself more later. The fridge is open to you. I stocked up over the weekend, I had to keep wrestling May out of there because she wanted to eat it all.’

You nodded along slowly as you began taking small bites of the bagel he’d brought. It tasted good, really good, perhaps homemade?

‘Mm- You’re tryna feed me up, huh?’ you replied mid-bite. Peter beamed.

‘Mhm! Gotta make sure you’re well taken care of’ he said, his voice strangely affectionate. Seemingly unable to help himself his eyes roamed down to your belly beneath the sheets, his gaze darting a little, as if he could somehow see the process occurring inside you. It made you strangely shy.

You’d been fine with the arrangement, of course, but it was weird to feel yourself being looked at like a broodmare. You felt how differently Peter talked to you compared to Miguel.

But then his head shot up, and he grinned at you again. ‘Can I see?’

‘Can you see wha- AH!’

You squeaked as he pushed the sheets aside and physically threw himself onto your lower torso, burying himself into your stomach. He squished you hard, his hands grabbed fistfuls of fat and muscle to squeeze, as he held you taut to his face and lovingly smothered your bare skin.

‘MM! Mm! You did so good’ he hissed affectionately, the words flying from his lips as he raised his head. He found you utterly confused, frozen in surprise, with his hands still gripping you tight. ‘You did good’ he repeated in a whisper, his soft smile widening. ‘You did really well. I mean really. The first time I tried to sleep with Miggy I think I nearly passed out. He was ah- a little less restrained back then, to be fair, but—’

He paused mid-ramble as he realized you were still frozen in shock, and his smile turned lopsided.

‘Ah… Sorry. Am I being too much?’ he whispered. You instinctively shook your head, your eyes still unblinkingly fixed on his face. ‘N-No. No! No. it’s fine’ you stammered back. ‘Just- ah, thank you, I guess. I was a little nervous but it, went better than I expected?’

‘Much better! Much better’ Peter reiterated as he sank down beside you. ‘You did an excellent job.’

‘Mm..’ You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his gleeful expression as you took another bite. ‘Well, again, thanks. So uh, what did you wanna ask, Peter?’

‘OH!’ Peter cried as he clapped his hands, ‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay! And also ah- oh, yes, make sure you know general rules for living here.’

‘I know the rules Peter, I read the contract Miguel sent’ you scoffed a little.

‘You- you did? But- my god, it was almost 30 pages long’ Peter suddenly hissed, seemingly genuinely confused by the idea that you actually read the contract you’d been given. You rolled your eyes again.

‘Yes. I read it. I take my job seriously.’

‘Oh, I know you do’ Peter said, his voice still low but now taking on a slightly subdued flirty tone. ‘You took me very seriously last night.’

‘Peter!’

You gently slapped his thigh as he tried not to chuckle. ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s start again. So… How are you doing?’ Peter asked, holding his arms out as a gesture of goodwill. You huffed and gave him a tilted smile.

‘Hm. I’m fine, don’t worry. A little sore but not that bad, I’ll be better by this evening, I think. No bruises, no uh- lasting damage, you know.’

You noticed the way Peter’s eyes roamed a little as you mentioned the state of your body. They widened just a little when you mentioned being better this evening. ‘Mhm. Mhm. Okay! Well, that’s great then. So, I need to head off to work in a few minutes, but I wanted you to know the house is all yours. I can go wherever you want, you can use the kitchen to your heart's content, you can use the TV, the games console, we have a few books but uh- neither of us read as much as we should. Obviously, just, exercise the usual safety precautions you would with everything. We know you will, just- yanno.’

‘Peter come on, it’s still me’ you scoffed. ‘You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a total stranger.’

Peter pouted a little. ‘I KNOW, I know, but I rehearsed! Also if I don’t talk professionally I will get VERY inappropriate very fast, so—’

‘Okay! Okay. Gimme your prepared speech then, before you wind up balls deep in me again’ you teased, lightly punching his shoulder. The way his mischievous brown eyes narrowed in response made you just a little warm inside.

‘Mhm. Very funny. Like I said, you’re free to leave, obviously, I left you a spare set of keys on the kitchen counter by the fruit bowl. Everything in the fridge is available except the leftover empanadas and the big stack of unflavoured protein shakes, that’s Miguel’s, he won’t get mad if you touch ‘em but he WILL give you that sad little disappointed pout and talk very curtly for the rest of the day so PLEASE avoid them!’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Peter’s warning. ‘Oh, yeah, sounds about right. Don’t worry, I wasn’t exactly craving unflavoured protein shake.’

‘Good, because they’re disgusting’ Peter insisted, causing you to laugh again. He then gave you one final smile before noticing the time on the bedside alarm clock, and with a sigh, he pushed himself up. ‘Okay! Well, I gotta head out. You take care, okay? I’ll see you later!’

You raised your hand to say goodbye only for Peter to hurry off, leaving you alone in bed once more. You shifted a little awkwardly in the rich, silk sheets. ‘Ah, sure thing, Peter. See you later’ you said, your voice lingering in the empty air, and in the distance, you heard the front door slam shut.

…

You spent the rest of the day getting accustomed to their house. You had a few days off work to adjust, luckily Miguel had ensured that, but already you were finding it a little boring without your friends.

Their apartment was certainly plush. You could admire it properly now; it had huge window walls overlooking the city, giving a perfect view of the moon rocket, the distant skyrise buildings, and of course the Spider Society HQ standing tall in its center. The windows initially surprised you since Miguel’s eyes were slightly sensitive to sunlight, but as you explored you quickly realized they were tinted with an almost invisible holographic sheen to stop the light from getting through in the same way.

They had a big open-plan kitchen and living room in the same beautiful modern shades of white and black. Everything looks very organized spare for the children’s drawings and toys strewn about the walls and floor. It seemed despite his need for perfection Miguel couldn’t bring himself to impose the same thing on his and Peter’s daughters.

You kept having to jump over balls of webbing and plush spider toys to get to where you wanted to go. It was… almost endearing.

You were left to muse your position and slowly adjust. You made breakfast with the copious amounts of food in the fridge, and you made lunch in the same way. You dozed on the huge, plush couch with your legs up and a thick blanket covering you and caught up on your favorite shows.

As the day wound into the afternoon, a storm came over, blanketing the city in heavy rain and darkness.

You did what you’d usually do on a weekend day off, but… all with a slight niggling thought at the back of your mind. It was the thought reminding you of what you’d done, of what could be happening inside you right now. Miguel’s baby, or Peter’s baby, just- sitting inside you.

You had to wonder how your relationship would change when it happened. You’d been naively certain nothing would change between the three of you after doing this, or after getting pregnant, but you were realizing that just couldn’t be true. They were still your friends of course, without a doubt, but… You had a craving now. A craving for something new, something sweet. Something you’d eventually… have to give up.

Because you were their friend, here to do a job. Nothing more.

You didn’t even notice your body drifting to sleep on the couch. As your mind went wild with a million scenarios you drifted off on the plush cushions, lulled by the rain, white noise, and warmth surrounding you on all fronts.

You only woke to the sound of childish giggling, something that was very unusual in your day-to-day life.

‘Shh! Shh, don’t say anything!’

A strange, muffled voice filled your ears, forcing you to flutter your eyelids open.

You immediately yelped.

Mayday and Gabi were kneeling by the couch barely an inch from your face. The girls were grinning as they looked you up and down, and they giggled more when you tried to scramble backward.

‘HI!’ May squealed, waving her hand. You awkwardly raised your own. Oh god, what did you do? What did you say? You’d forgotten that you’d have to engage with these two.

‘I… H-Hi, there’ you stammered. The girls began pulling on the couch as if trying to get closer.

‘You’re daddy’s friend, right?! You’re here to give us a sibling, right?’ May said, bold and unbothered in a way only a child can be. You felt heat rising to your face.

‘I… Y-Yeah, I am. Your, dads told you about that, huh?’ you said awkwardly. You were forced to make room then as the two girls sat beside you, eyeing you up with curious gazes.

‘Yeah! Dad said they gotta get your help to make it. I hope it’s a girl again!’ May crowed. ‘You’re here carrying the baby for them, right?’ Gabi added, the slightly older of the two being more tactful with her response.

You slowly nodded again. ‘Y-Yeah… Yeah, I’m just- carrying the baby, since they can’t.’

‘So, are you gonna be our parent too?’ May asked loudly, already moving to braid and play with your hair. You grunted at the intrusion but felt too bad to make her stop.

‘Aha, ah- n-not quite, sweetheart’ you said with a nervous laugh. ‘I’m just—’

‘If you’re gonna be another parent then you have to take my side!’ May blurted, putting her chubby hands on her little hips. ‘Papa tells me, I can’t have sugar before bed, a-and daddy says I can’t either! So if I have YOUR vote, then maybe I can win next time!’

You made mental notes in your head as you dumbly nodded; Okay, papa must be Miguel, and daddy was Peter.

‘Papa won’t let you just out-vote them, Maymay, it's not how math works! There’s two of them and ONE of them, it doesn’t work!’ Gabi drawled, smugly folding her arms. May scowled and stuck out her tongue, something Gabi immediately returned. You awkwardly tried to butt in again.

‘Well, I—’

‘Will you watch Bluey with me?’ May garbled a little, gently slapping your arm as she sat down on your stomach without warning. You let out a soft oof, but couldn’t help laughing, especially as Gabi settled at your head in a calmer, cross-legged position.

‘Ah- well, I—’

‘If you watch Bluey with me, you can be my third parent’ May said, gently slapping your arm. Bit by bit, to your surprise, you smiled. Her energy and boundless joy were infectious. What a sweet kid.

‘Sure’ you said gently. ‘Sure, okay, I’ll watch Bluey with you.’  

May beamed at you, giving a gap-toothed grin with her big blue eyes and wild ginger hair covering her forehead. You smiled back.

‘Girls! Girls, girls, come here you!’

As you stammered with surprise Peter suddenly appeared, swooping in to your rescue as he lifted the girls into his arms. He held both as they squealed and waved their arms. For a moment, you felt bad that you’d been interrupted.

‘Mi amors! My little demons, mm—’ Peter chuckled as he kissed both girls on the cheek one after the other, going over and over until they squealed and begged him to stop.

‘What did I tell you about pestering our guest? Now, did you at least say HELLO to daddy’s friend?’ Peter said firmly, raising them both to look at you. May groaned while Gabi giggled.

‘Hi, daddy’s friend!’ they both said in unison.

‘Hi, papa’s friend.’

That dark, husky voice filled the apartment, and while the girls squealed you felt your body melt at the sound. You watched Miguel slip in and throw his work down on the kitchen counter so he could scoop up his girls as they ran toward him. His stoic face softened and melted as he pulled the girls towards him.

‘Mi amors, mis pollitos, cómo fue tu día?’ he whispered to them both, letting them tug on his hair and touch his cheeks with infinite patience.

You watched from the side as he talked to his daughters, feeling your heart melt even further at the sight. He looked so effortlessly calm here. While they vied for his attention though, he did shoot you one look. It was a glance only, but you swore you saw his lips tilt into another smile.

‘Pst, hey!’

You jumped and turned to see Peter leaning over you, a huge smile on his face.

‘Come by our bedroom later, once the girls are asleep’ Peter whispered into your ear, instinctively making you freeze. Your face flushed.

‘You- oh, uh… Okay, sure’ you said, but before you could ask why he’d run off to blow raspberries on May’s cheek, tenderly lifting her up and swinging her around the living room. You watched them with a mixture of endearment and confusion.

Come by later? Did… did they want to go again?

It felt like a full age passed as you made your way through the motions of the evening. You ate with the family slightly awkwardly, making small talk where you could. Miguel made an effort to include you, as did Peter, but you still felt like an outsider sitting here while this family chatted and laughed and talked about their day.

You spent the rest of the evening in your bedroom, waiting until it went quiet. Once the girls were asleep, and at least a half hour after that, you decided to sneak out and see what was going on exactly.

When you approached their bedroom door you heard soft laughter inside, which made you pause. It felt strangely intrusive entering their home like this, even though they’d asked for you. It felt… voyeuristic.

You paused for a second before forcing yourself to push it open.

‘Ah, there you are!’

The moment the door creaked open Peter looked over and beckoned for you to approach, his face spread into an eager grin. You took a moment to admire their room as you entered. It was gorgeous, a wide spread of blacks and reds and whites, with high ceilings and paneled walls and a walk-in closet with holographic attachments.

Their bed was huge too, one that was built for dual purpose. It was a bed built for a very large man who liked to move and get rough, who wanted space to throw his partners around, but also a bed with enough space for a whole family to cuddle in on a lazy morning.

Miguel and Peter were currently on the cough though.

You approached with a flushed face, surprised at how bold they were being. They’d clearly been messing around before you arrived, as Peter’s shirt was slightly torn at the hem and unbuttoned down to his pecs, and he had slightly bloody bite marks on his neck.

What you noticed the most though was Miguel’s very obvious erection beneath his pants, one that was throbbing a little beneath the fabric. You felt your body tense as his beautiful red eyes looked you up and down.

‘Sorry, ah- we weren’t sure you wanted to come in’ Peter said as you approached, gesturing to his neck with a dorky half-smile. ‘We didn’t mean to get started early.’

‘Oh. Ah- no, it’s fine’ you murmured. Miguel just grunted.

‘How did you hold up last night, and this morning? Are you in any pain at all?’ Miguel asked in that husky voice, putting Peter and his own arousal aside to lean forward and look you over. You flushed as his eyes undressed you in your pajamas, roaming up your legs, hips, and belly.

‘N-No, no I’m fine’ you insisted. He fixed you with a look to ensure you were telling the truth, then grunted his approval. ‘Did you settle in okay?’ he then asked.

‘Y-Yes, it was all fine. The kitchen was, easy to use.’

‘Were you comfortable?’

‘Y-Yes.’

‘I don’t mean for this to sound like an interrogation, hermosa/o, I’m making conversation’ Miguel said, now raising both brows. You went stiff.

You hadn’t realized how, after getting so stuck in your own head, you’d forgotten that you were friends. You knew Miguel and Peter. You used to talk so normally. You swallowed all of that down and let out a small, familiar chuckle.

‘Your house is a mess, my guy, you’re- clearly baby whipped, those girls run this place, but… I can see why. They’re really sweet’ you said. Miguel’s smile widened, flashing a full fang.

‘There, that’s better’ Miguel chuckled in that husky tone. ‘I want you talking like that when we’re done…’

‘So, you… Wait, you do want to try again? With me?’ you asked then, your eyes darting between the two. Miguel didn’t nod, instead raising both brows as he looked you up and down.

‘Try again?’ he murmured back at you. Despite feeling like it was a reasonable question, his presence always made you feel a little dumb. You swallowed hard. ‘Try for, the… baby.’

‘Oh’ he grunted back, his eyes roaming for a second time. You froze up for one agonizing second before noticing that his lips were tilting into a smile. ‘I mean I guess, yes, but… It was more, whether you want to just, have fun, while we can.’

You almost squeaked. Wait, they just wanted to have sex for the hell of it?

‘O-Only if you want to, of course!’ Peter added quickly. Miguel grunted at him. ‘That went without saying’ he murmured, his low, calm voice a total contrast to Peter’s.

‘No, I… I mean, I do’ you said, the words coming out of your mouth just a little too quickly. Miguel smirked, and you felt yourself sweating all over again.

‘Do you want me to make you cum again, hermosa/o?’ Miguel asked smoothly, almost politely, in a way that made your knees tremble. His unwavering eye contact made you feel so damn small.

‘Or… are you eager to get on?’

His slippery tongue whispering those last words sealed the deal. You felt your entrance clench as if tying itself in knots beneath the fiery gaze of his eyes, his faint smirk, the flash of a fang behind his lips. Peter watched with a hand covering his mouth to avoid showing his own smirk.

‘I… I-It’s up to you, Miguel’ you replied in a slightly stilted manner, stammering over your words. His eyes softened just a little.

‘No, hermosa/o. It’s up to you’ he said, his sweet voice dipping into something more soothing. ‘This isn’t just about us.

You swallowed hard and got to thinking. The more you thought about last night, and the more you thought about how it’d felt to be held, crushed, filled, fucked to the brim by that enormous man…

‘I- just, wanna get on’ you said, panting slightly with the confession. Miguel grinned.

‘Then get on, hermosa/o.’

Miguel lay back and let you and Peter jointly unbuckle and shift his pants down, letting his hefty cock spring forth with such force it almost scared you. Peter groaned at the sight, unable to stop himself from gently kissing Miguel’s neck like he was worshipping a God, and you were left to carefully strip your own clothes aside.

His eyes didn’t leave you, not once. He was locked on as you stripped, and Peter wasn’t much better.

‘Gorgeous’ he whispered, ‘you’re doing so good…’

You mounted Miguel’s lap slowly, like someone trying to saddle up a horse that was much too large. It was almost intimidating to shift your legs around his thick, muscular thighs and clamber on.

He must have noticed this, because his huge hand came down to cup your rear for stability, taking a soft little squeeze of your right ass cheek as you tried to settle. Your resulting squeak of surprise made his member twitch with excitement.

‘There, hermosa/o, down you go’ he murmured, gently easing your hips towards his shaft. You felt it pushing up, the tip twitching for a second time as it started to bury itself into your folds. Another squeak escaped your lips, followed by a low, dull moan.

‘Yeah… That’s it…’

Peter watched with his head on his fist, admiring how nervous you looked despite your arousal.

Miguel held you there, his red eyes darkening with arousal and amusement as he gently nudged his member at your clit, his claws digging into the soft fat of your rear as he gripped you in place. He let the smooth, velvety skin of his tip rub at that little swollen nub until you started to mewl.

‘Come on, mi amor, don’t tease’ Peter said, but he was purring the entire time he talked. He pressed a few soft kisses to Miguel’s neck, something that in the swirling chaos of emotions you were already feeling caused a little pang of jealousy.

‘Get me wet, then, and I’ll get to work’ Miguel grunted. You squeaked then as you were lifted up into the air by Miguel, almost like you weighed nothing despite your size, and Peter moved beneath you instead. To your private joy, he kissed your thigh before going down and eagerly swallowing as much of Miguel’s cock as he could.

His soft, breathy moans filled your ears and made you quiver, your cunt clenching with arousal at the sound, and especially at the look on Miguel’s face. That big man let his eyes roll, his tongue snaking out to lick at his lower lip and fangs only to let them quiver as he felt his thick, veiny shaft being sucked down.

‘Mmmfff—yeah’ he grunted hard, almost growling. Peter only took a few pumps before pulling back and coyly wiping his mouth, only to then use that same hand to give your right ass cheek a wet, firm slap.

‘Alright, go on, giddy up gorgeous’ he panted, and without giving you a chance to even offer a snide rebuttal you were dropped down and thrust into hard by Miguel.

You were in too much shock to even scream. You just felt your eyes roll as your soul ascended, as that perfect, meaty, veiny shaft pumped its hot way into your cunt, smooth and wet with saliva and pre-cum. Your lips parted into a silent scream of ecstasy, as Miguel bit his lip until it bled to avoid screaming with you. You squeezed that throbbing organ like a fist.

Despite thinking you’d be the one riding Miguel refused to give up control for long. He started throwing his hips as he leaned back on the sofa, his arms behind his head as he threw you about like you were riding a bull. He made you bounce, made every inch of you jiggle with the force, his thick member punching at your cervix until you begged for release.

But you couldn’t get too loud this time, so Peter was forced to tenderly cover your mouth and muffle your moans while checking to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

‘There, good, good, well done’ he purred in your ear, his breath hot and sweet as it stirred your nape. ‘Good.’

You were once again torn between Miguel’s violent, domineering thrusts, his thick pumps and sweaty, hairy thighs bucking up against you, his bared fangs and dark eyes, and Peter’s soft, kindly words in your ear as he nestled and soothed you.

It was when you felt your orgasm rising that you were once again met with something new. Miguel moved in too, kissing Peter’s lips before nestling into your cheek, as if the closeness aided in his arousal.

You could feel it yourself; his member twitching at your cervix, kissing your womb, closely followed by a full throb that rose up through the veins in his shaft and resulted in a little quiver. He was enjoying this too.

‘Mm… that’s it…’

You were in a total daze with both men on either side, nuzzling each other and then nuzzling you as you were jostled on Miguel’s lap. You could feel at that point that Peter was equally as erect, his own length twitching and making a mess of your thigh with his thick pre-cum.

As your glazed-over eyes met him, you saw his mischievous, hungry smile, his hot breath hitting your parted lips. You knew you’d be riding him next.

‘Make that baby for us, hermosa/o’ Miguel whispered.

‘Make us proud’ Peter moaned.

You knew, at that moment, that this was going to get messy. You also knew that, at this point, you didn’t care.

[olmstier]

Those things are *ancient* to him

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[wyvernest]

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

[moralesluvr]

miguel being your first <3

oh this is….oh.

when you tell him that you’re a virgin, he’s honestly shocked because how could someone so beautiful be so untouched? but his voice drips of honey when his hands are undoing the buttons on your jeans, telling you how gorgeous you are and if you’re comfortable and you just breathe out a yes because you’re so deep in your feelings.

miguel would be gentle with you, your bottoms and underwear discarded onto the floor as his head made its way in between your thighs, the same thighs his lips are clinging onto, subtle grunts leaving his lips as he feeds on your reactions.

he knows he’s gotta be gentle but he can’t help but relish in the fact that he’s taking you, for no one else to have— relishing in the fact that you’re so responsive to everything little things he does to you.

“so sensitive.” he’d whisper when his nose dipped onto your sex.

“so sensitive.” he’d coo as he’d spread your legs wiper, tongue exploring all the places that have remained untouched.

“so sensitive.” he’d mumble as he’d gently stretch you out with one of his thick fingers, holding you still with his free hand as his ears were filled with your cries and whimpers.

“miguel..” you’d barely whisper, biting your lip in order to conceal your tiny noises that threatened to leave your throat. but he’d shut you up as his fingers continued to move skillfully inside of you, curling upwards as a feeling of ecstasy washing over you.

“now c’mon, angel…” he’d tease you, “how’re you gonna possibly take all of me if you can’t even take a finger? my innocent girl…”

and although it feels like you can’t, you push through the overwhelming feeling as a sweet climax finds you, legs quivering under your lover’s touch. until his hands find your waist and he’s slowly pushing into you, your walls swallowing him whole, eyebrows furrowing as you seethe.

“oh, baby..” he’d coo as his thrusts started off slow, the tip of his length brushing up against your untouched cervix, “can’t believe you’re letting me be inside this pretty cunt of yours…feels so warm, so pure. all for me.”

and then he speaks honestly as he holds your hand, smirking,

“i’m gonna ruin you.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

idk if it’s weird but do you know that thing where you grab your boobs for comfort?? imagine doing that to miguel 😭😭

omg omg😭😭

you're laying in bed unable to fall asleep when it happens. your hand just creeps up his shirt.

miguel doesn't think much of it, you like the skin in skin contact- so does he.

it's when your hand hovers just under his pectorals that he turns to you and raises an eyebrow.

he's still working, hair tired back with one of your scrunchies and his tablet looks tiny in his massive hand. he'd been trying to hypothesise a re-calibration to his nano-bots all day.

"what do you want?" he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.

your eyes are barely even open, your face turned to face his bicep. "can't sleep," you murmur, planting your hand on his chest and squeezing.

"oye," he bats at your hand when you do it a second time. you groan when his hand removes yours from under his shirt.

"miguel," you whine, drawing the syllables of his name out long.

"amor," he mocks your exact tone. "why're you grabbing my chest?" he drops your hand and cups your face, guiding your tired eyes to rest on his face.

"'cos it's comforting," your words sludge together but miguel makes you out just fine. he cracks a smile, you narrow your barely open eyes; "it is. helps me sleep."

"yeah?" he teases, and you nod. your hand slinks back up his shirt and rests on his chest, for the most part it's just an added heat to miguel's chest. "if you don't fall asleep any faster i'm calling bullshit."

you let out a tired giggle and slobber a kiss to his bicep; miguel waits five minutes and in no time he feels your breathing change- deeper now as you fall asleep.

he can't believe it.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy

miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!

Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 

Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 

For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 

Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)

Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 

“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.

“No.“

“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 

“Jess.“

“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“

“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 

You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 

Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 

Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 

“Whipped.“

“Shut the fuck up.“

. . .

Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 

Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  

“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 

“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“

Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 

“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 

“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 

Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 

“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 

“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“

Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...

Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 

Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 

And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 

“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 

“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 

“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“

Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 

Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 

“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 

You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  

And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”

“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“

He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 

“Aw, crap.“

“Finally.“

You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 

“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“

“One of literally thousands!“

“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“

“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“

Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.

“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 

“When?“ You ask.

“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 

“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.

“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.

“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 

He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 

[honestsycrets]

mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it. 

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free. 

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.” 

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--” 

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--” 

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.” 

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face. 

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets. 

“She likes it.” 

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.” 

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar. 

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.” 

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.” 

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,” 

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face. 

“As many as will make you happy.” 

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.” 

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?” 

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for. 

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father. 

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.” 

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."  

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable. 

 Low sperm count his ass. 

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it. 

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.” 

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.” 

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel. 

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them. 

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.” 

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly. 

“Sí, Miggy?” 

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so. 

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that. 

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place. 

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder. 

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.  

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck. 

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone. 

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day. 

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is. 

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready. 

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall. 

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.” 

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.” 

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.” 

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck. 

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.” 

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest. 

“Who would come in?” 

“Peter,” you answer. 

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see. 

“The balcony, then.” 

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?” 

“Maybe.” 

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter. 

“Bend over.” 

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now. 

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.” 

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”  

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth. 

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?” 

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again. 

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back. 

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability. 

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable. 

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach. 

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body. 

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs. 

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days.  “Like… not this.” 

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers. 

“I’m open to suggestions.” 

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.” 

“Don’t start.” 

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging. 

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--” 

“Let me guess. She told you.” 

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?” 

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”  

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe. 

“Are you sure? I know--” 

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.” 

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?” 

He leers. Peter scuttles away. 

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

[danilights2021]

Jesus🥵🔥🥵🔥🥵🔥🥵🔥🥵🔥🥵🔥

The Surrogate: Part IV

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Two Part three Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

- One month later-

‘Breakfast! Come on, wakey wakey!

You darted your head towards the door of your bedroom as Peter’s voice drifted through. Was everyone awake already?

You were standing half naked in your own little guest room, one you were very well acquainted with at this point. Your clothes filled the wardrobes and spilled out over the edge of the bathroom hamper, and the bed had your signature messy look to it. Your items were all over the bedside table, the bathroom smelled like your favorite body wash, and you could find your way to bed now even with the light fully off.

You also had been here long enough to know that call, and to know what the morning routine was.

You hurried to pull on some comfortable, lounging clothes before pushing your door open to join the rest of the household.

Peter was in the kitchen behind a smoky stove, busy cooking away for once. You were used to Miguel being the chef around here, at least for the girls. Neither of the boys were very accomplished cooks but they desperately wanted you to believe otherwise.

You could also see two little heads bouncing up and down beside him, heads which immediately homed in on you as you entered.

‘Y/N!’ May squealed, her little socks skidding on the floor as she hurried around the counter.

‘Good morning, ladies’ you said, gently holding out your hands as the girls rushed towards you. You’d gotten used to the way May would squeal and rush to latch onto your leg, and the way Gabriella would politely take your hand and jump up and down as she tried to tell you about her day.

This morning was no exception. The girls both cried for you from the kitchen where they were huddled around Peter, tugging on his trousers as he tried to finish loading up five plates worth of pancakes.

You could see he was sweating over the pan but he had the most infectious, patient smile on his face regardless, dressing in his loose shirt and pants with a tight pink apron around his waist.

As you approached Peter beamed and made a slight ‘oh’ face. ‘Oh, good morning! Hey, watch this’ he called, and without missing a beat he tossed a pancake nearly a meter into the air before catching it again.

‘Come on, am I getting good or am I getting good?’ Peter crowed. He relished in your polite, slightly amused clap and the girl's squeals of excitement.

‘You’re going to make a mess, that’s what you’re doing.’

Miguel’s gruff, smooth voice filled the kitchen as he entered from his and Peter’s bedroom. He was still in his pajamas a common sight for you now, with his hair messy and unkempt and a slight stubble on his jaw. It was a weekend, and he’d just returned from a long and vicious mission, so you understood his desire to relax a little. You knew Peter tried to enforce rest where he could.

‘My love- I made EVERYONE’S plates without spilling a single one!’ Peter protested. He pouted up a storm but still melted when Miguel came up to kiss his temple.

‘Mhm. You got very statistically lucky’ Miguel purred back. ‘Now I’d like you to stop being that luck runs out.’

‘Papa!’

Miguel paused his teasing to scoop up May and Gabriella in both arms, kissing them both on the cheek before carrying them over to the dining table.

‘Yes, good morning mi amors’ he said with a yawn, his face also endlessly patient as the girls patted at his worn, rough face. He even chuckled as May tried to trickle him, showing no response to her patting at his thick neck.

‘Alright, come on, behave. What will our guest think?’ Miguel added as he put the girls down in their chairs. May groaned.

‘They’re not a GUEST anymore! They’ve been here FOREVER!’ she whined.

‘A month isn’t forever’ Miguel said gently, ‘and even if it was forever, would that mean you can still be so rude in front of them?’

‘YEAH! It does! They’re like you and daddy, they have to put up with us’ May insisted.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle on the sidelines. The girls were so damn charming, it was so hard not to love them. Just like their dads.

‘Alright! Sit, sit down, come on! Chop, chop!’

Peter’s impatient yelling and clapping drove you to rush to your seat, and as you did you got a chance to say good morning to Miguel. He bumped against you as you moved past him to your seat, and you got to watch as his eyes softened and creased. They roamed from your face, to your chest, right down to your belly, and there they lingered before rolling back up.

You felt your heart skip as he smiled.

‘Mi compinche’ he whispered. You snorted at the little nickname he’d given you over the past month, which was mostly a stand-in since they couldn’t really think of what else to call you. ‘Good morning’ he added.

‘Good morning, Migs’ you replied, only to be shoved into your seat by a huffing Peter.

‘Sit DOWN! No respect in this place!’ he groaned while also shoving Miguel into his seat. The man could have overpowered him all too easily but he sank down just to appease his sulking lover.

‘I know, I know. I’m awful to you’ Miguel chuckled as he checked the news on a holographic tablet. Peter snorted and put on a pout.

‘You are! Anyway- good morning you lovely little thing, look at you.’ The moment Peter turned to you his attitude changed, turning into another dorky smile as he laid down the first few plates.

‘Good morning again, Peter’ you replied with a similar chuckle.

You ate breakfast with the family in relative peace. Miguel was quite quiet, busy checking the news and the Spider Society’s daily going-on's while Peter chatted to May about her dreams and to Gabriella about her upcoming soccer game.

Miguel would interject to take notice every so often, still clearly concerned about the girls, but you knew enough now to know he showed affection in a more subdued manner to Peter. You could tell he looked contented though. Surprisingly contented…

‘Alright! Come on, Gabi’s got practise, let's go!’

You were jolted from your daydreaming by Peter’s cry, as the man pushed back his chair and hurried to get the dishes in the sink before herding the girls away.

Ah, right. They’ve got soccer practice, you thought. I’ll be home alone today.

The girls rushed off to get dressed, and while you got up to do the same, you were stopped.

You felt a thick, firm hand on your wrist, which then gently moved down to your fingers as if the person realized they were being a little too aggressive. You turned already knowing who it was.

‘Hey, hermosa/o’ Miguel said, his voice low and sweet. You smiled up at him.

‘Hey! What’s up? Is it—’

Before you could finish speaking you felt him slip something into your open hand, forcing you to grasp it. It felt like… a little cardboard box?

You rolled it around in your hand, your face growing more and more confused. It was long and thin, you could feel the soft raised brail points on its edge…

‘It- what is this?’ you whispered after a few moments of confused pause.

Miguel met your gaze with glimmering, bright red eyes. They were overflowing with excitement.

‘Pregnancy test’ he whispered, like it was the most inane thing in the world. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to stop yourself from instinctively touching your belly.

‘You- wait, already?’ you whispered back.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he licked his fang, offering just a soft, almost amused grunt of confidence. ‘Mm, compinche, I already told you. The first time will have done it. You were ovulating then, it should have been enough time to show up. So, go on.’

You found your chest growing oddly tight. Already? You were already expected to be pregnant?

Miguel seemed to sense your insecurity, as his own brows went up, but before he could ask if you were okay, you smiled back and nodded.

‘Okay! Sure, no problem. I’ll um- I’ll check it this afternoon, whenever I need to pee, I guess. And- we’ll see’ you replied, quickly soothing his worries.

Miguel beamed down at you, and god it almost hurt. He looked so proud of you.

‘Mil gracias, mi compinche’ he purred back.

…

You stared down at the little test your hands, sitting alone in the en-suite to your temporary room in Miguel’s apartment. It was isolated here, and you’d hoped it would be quiet, but you could still hear May and Gabi playing in the living room just a few doors away.

One line. Just one line on the thin blue test in your grip. You let out a slight sigh of disappointment.

It had only been a month, that’s what you kept telling yourself, as your mind swirled.

It’d only been a month. Why, then, did it bother you so much?

You’d waited until the afternoon to take the test, as you’d somehow been too nervous to pee. You’d drunk nearly three gallons of water beforehand but only now had it worked, and only when the whole family happened to be home again after soccer practice.

You’d hoped to have time to prepare. Either to mentally prepare for this outcome or to prepare a surprise for the positive lines.

But now…

You crept out of the bathroom and peered into the living room. You could see Miguel and Peter were trying to teach May how to use her new web shooter to knock little plush toys off of the coffee table, while Gabi was mischievously throwing items in her way to distract her as she tried to web those instead.

You heard them laughing, and cheering.

Your stomach turned. Oh god. Were you about to ruin the good mood?

You slowly, shyly, closed the door, right as Miguel glanced at it.

You couldn’t stand to face them yet.

You lost track of time pacing in the bedroom, going back and forth over the fine wood flooring until it squeaked. How did you tell them? It wasn’t a big deal, right? It was normal, this was normal, but they’d made it seem like you SHOULD be pregnant right now.

Oh god, what if they were disappointed? What if they hated you? What if they thought you weren’t good enough for this?

You hated feeling this way about your friends, but you’d gotten so comfortable here, so happy, so content, and now… You remembered that you were here for a job. A serious job. And, it already felt like you’d failed…

‘Compinche?’

You jumped in place, your spine chilling at that familiar voice. You spun in place and found both Peter and Miguel in the doorway.

‘Heeyy, pretty thing, just- can we, come in?’ Peter said softly, his eyes as desperate as a puppy.

Your heart sank. You couldn’t exactly tell them no…

‘Ah- sorry, yeah, come in’ you murmured. The boys took the opportunity right away, swiftly shifting the door at their backs as they crossed the room towards you.

Miguel looked ecstatic but impatient. He seemed surprised you hadn’t told them the moment you came out of the bathroom, confused as to why you weren’t screaming and jumping for joy about his new baby.

Oh god, why, why, why…

‘Look, hey, we have to get ready for dinner, but… We wanted to ask first…’

Miguel approached with his hands outstretched, the softest smile spreading across his face as he implored you. Peter was beaming at his back.

‘It’s okay, the girls can find out later’ he added gently when you refused to say a word. Your heart sank. God, it hurt so bad. He was expecting it already, like he was so sure it’d worked. He assumed you must just be shy about these things.

You couldn’t get the words out. It was too hard. You paused, and then slowly you shook your head. You held up the little test to show the single line instead.

The way Miguel’s face changed was agony. The way his lips jittered, like he was forcing them to stay up. The way his body tensed and lowered. The way his shoulders just… deflated.

He was fixed on that line like it was his worst enemy, like it was a person who’d personally spat in his face. He paused and went silent for just a moment as he wiped a hand down his face, and God, the sigh he let out was like a knife to the chest.

‘Okay’ he whispered.

You pursed your lips into a thin line as you tried to stay calm. Why was this so hard? Why was he taking this so badly? It was just the first time. Still, you couldn’t say it out loud. ‘I… I’m sorry—’

To your surprise he then suddenly pulled you into an embrace, squeezing you tight to his huge chest. You felt so minuscule against his enormous form, tightly clutched in his giant biceps, feeling his pectorals heave as his heart thundered against your cheek.

His heart thundering… His breath a little ragged…

Oh god, he wasn’t mad. He was upset. But, was he upset with you?

‘It’s okay’ he murmured, his chin resting now on the top of your head. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll- try again, we’ll try again. We’ve got time.’

You could only nod awkwardly. This felt almost unfair. Almost nobody just got pregnant within a month of trying, it wasn’t this unusual. While Miguel’s confidence was fun and, in a way, sexy, the real pressure now mounting on you felt incredibly unnecessary.

But then he said something that really made you pause.

‘I can do this.’

I can do this. Not ‘you’ can do this, referring to you, or even ‘we’. I can do this.

He didn’t act mad, at least not towards you. Was he, angry at himself?

‘Hey, hey, it’s okay.’

Peter was the one who then rushed in and squeezed you so tight your ribs hurt, offering Miguel the same. Miguel was silent as he hugged him back.

‘It’s fine! It’s the first month, these things happen. It might even, just uh- show up next week, actually. Maybe it’s a little early. But either way, it’s normal. It’s fine. Nobody did anything wrong, YOU did nothing wrong mi amor, and neither did you pretty thing’ Peter said, softly tutting sympathetically as he saw the pain in your eyes.

Miguel remained silent.

‘We’ll try again tonight’ he repeated with a gruff tone, lightly rolling his shoulders as he forced that stoic, calm expression to fill his face. Peter’s smile faltered a little.

‘Is that, okay with you?’

As he turned to you, you nodded desperately. ‘Yeah! Of course, it—’

‘It is REALLY okay with you?’ Miguel said, his voice suddenly sounding oddly vulnerable and concerned. ‘I don’t- Ah, I’m sorry’ he said through gritted teeth, wiping a hand down his face. ‘I don’t- I know I’m, putting pressure on you, it’s not my intention. I’m sorry. I am. Just… are you really okay to try again tonight?’

You paused only for a moment in the face of his big, soft, puppy eyes, before nodding.

‘Yeah- yeah! Yeah. I am. I’m fine to go again. We’ll start again, I’ll- track my periods, I’ll take the injections, it- it’ll be fine.’

Peter’s sympathetic face turned into a grateful mess as his lip quivered, and Miguel too had his brows turn up with a look of what could only be pride.

‘… Thank you, compinche’ Miguel murmured. He put a hand on your head, ruffling your hair before pulling back with a melancholic huff. ‘Thank you.’

The two men left you as the girls started screaming for their attention. You watched Peter put a silent hand on Miguel’s back, as if propping him up when he barely had the strength to do so, before the two stepped out as if nothing had happened.

You remained, alone, in your room. This was going to be a long night. 

…

That evening you waited for Miguel and Peter to visit, and sure enough they appeared the moment the girls were asleep.

Miguel came in already half naked in just his pajama pants, while Peter was wearing his full loungewear. The two looked a lot less hopeful than they did the first night you’d been in this situation.

You gulped, trying not to show how nervous you were.

‘Peter, mi amor.’

Miguel addressed Peter first before you, his eyes glancing to his partner as you sat alone on the mattress. Peter glanced at you then at him.

‘Yes?’

‘Mm… We’ll, both do it, right?’ he said softly, a fang flashing beneath his lip as he licked his teeth. Peter nodded quickly. ‘Yes, if- they want that.’

‘Ah… guys?’

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up as they glanced at each other, but when they looked down at you in unison you felt the lump in your throat grow.

You were a mess of arousal and nerves, far worse than the last night. The sight of those huge men, powerful and relying on you, with those soft brown eyes and dark red eyes both peering at you like meat in the dim light, you felt your body stiffen.

‘Sorry, I—’

‘No, no don’t apologize.’ Miguel raised his hand and gently cut you off. He looked strained over something, but when he spoke to you, he was as gentle as ever. ‘You’re fine. It’s okay, just- We were saying, I wanted Peter to help with the, uh, foreplay first before getting into it, since…’

Miguel paused and glanced at Peter again, who gently nodded for him to continue. ‘He’s… agreed, I will be the only one having sex, with you, tonight’ Miguel said after a small pause, his voice dripping as it slipped from his lips.

You blinked in surprise at that. It’d just be Miguel tonight? Even after the bad news with the baby? Surely they’d both want to be taking turns even more now.

‘I… Oh, sure, no that’s- fine, that’s fine’ you murmured.

‘It’s not because I don’t want to’ Peter said, offering an awkward tease in the face of the weird tension filling the bedroom. ‘Trust me, I uh- would love to, but, papi here requested it.’

You glanced up at Miguel and saw that same look in his eye you’d seen before, that dark, red, glowering glare that seemed both so overly confident and so insecure at the same time. It was a look of desperation, a look of need. You felt his eyes on you like a drowning man swimming towards a pocket of air.

What had gotten into him?

You breathed in deeply and slowly nodded.

‘Yeah, of course. That’s fine. That’s, fine. I’m fine with that’ you reply slowly.

Miguel gave a curt nod, a contended, affectionate nod, and without another word, he crawled onto the bed.

As Miguel descended on you, he stank of hormones. He had a dark expression, one clouded with testosterone and primal need, and it was like that need was seeping through his pores, coating his rough, scarred skin in a light sheen of pure virility.

When he flexed his veins popped on his forearms, his biceps tight and round. He didn’t even need to speak for you to back down, cowering on your chest as he put his nose to your neck. He breathed in deep, and you shivered.

‘Mm… Okay, we’ll do your favorite, si?’ Miguel purred against your nape. You nodded.

‘Yeah, y-yeah—AH!’

You squeaked as Miguel lifted your hips without even moving his face or body. He spread your legs by slipping his muscled arm between your thighs and lifting you by the cunt, raising your hips about a foot from the mattress, allowing Peter to slide down beneath your pussy.

‘Good’ Miguel purred against your neck again. ‘Good, good.’

‘That’s it, pretty little thing, come down gently now. Don’t you worry about suffocating me either, if you do it’d be an honor’ Peter said as he carefully took over maneuvering your hips from Miguel. The larger man released your soft, wet vulva from his grip with a soft grunt, and Peter took the weight with both his hands.

He breathed on you a few times, teasing just a little as he blew hot air against your swollen clit, but he could only hold off for so long.

With a low moan, he dropped your pussy onto his face.

‘A-AH! Ahh, f-fuck’ you whimpered.

Peter moaned as he began swirling his tongue, eagerly sucking and slathering your clit with all the love he could muster, while Miguel moved his hand back down and carefully shifted it through the folds until he found your entrance.

He didn’t waste time on ceremony. He slipped one finger in, pumped, dragging the soft side of his finger right down your g-spot, then withdrew and replaced it with two fingers.

You screamed. You could do nothing else. The walls were thankfully very soundproofed, so it wasn’t an issue, but even if it had been you weren’t sure you’d have had the strength to stop.

‘OH- O-OH MY, GOD, FUCK!’

Between Miguel’s thick, calloused fingers pumping in and out and Peter eagerly making out with your clit in the messiest way possible, you melted into absolute putty in their hands.

Miguel grinned. You felt it against your neck, his lips pulling back and his sharp teeth bumping your nape as he breathed. His breath was hot, potent, desperate.

He began to move his fingers harder. With each pump you got a little looser, a little wetter, and soon his fingers were squelching as they moved in and out.

‘Good, come on. That’s it, baby’ Miguel whispered against your ear. He was commanding you like a horse, like an animal to be trained, and it did something to you. ‘Go on, that’s it. Loosen up. It’ll make it easier.’

‘U-Uh, f-fucckkk, fuck—’

Your eyes rolled as Miguel pulled back a little and pulsated his fingers at about halfway, keeping the tips on your g-spot. Peter, sensing the movement, quickly moved to suck on your clit at exactly the right time.

With a dull, frantic cry you orgasmed for the both of them, your body shaking with the strain of every muscle slowly tightening and then releasing with that heavy wave of pleasure. Peter dragged your hips down until you were crushing him, cutting off all his air just so he could get his tongue right up into your cunt, tasting every inch of that orgasm as it quivered to a stop.

Miguel let his fingers stay just long enough to feel it, to help squish some of those precious juices down for Peter to taste, before abruptly pulling out.

Your body was limply rolled off of Peter’s face and onto the bed, still on your front, and after supplying a few soft, soothing pets and gruff praise Miguel moved to whisper at Peter.

‘I’m going now. Okay?’ he hissed.

Peter was barely lucid. His eyes were glazed over, his lips and face red and wet, and his cock was hard and throbbing in his loose pants to the point he had to half-heartedly adjust them, pawing at his own erection with a soft whine.

‘O-Okay, ah… I- can I—’

‘Yes, mi amor, you can watch and satisfy yourself. Or, you can wait for me to be done and—’

‘No. No, lemme- watch’ Peter whined, a dreamy smile spreading over his face. ‘Uh… I should take some pictures of this sometime…’

Miguel grunted, not even really focused on him anymore. All he could sense was you, all he could smell was you. His breedable friend, his baby machine, the foundation of all his pride.

He crawled over and pulled your hips up into doggy before mounting from behind.

‘Now… I’m going to fuck you’ Miguel said, his voice slow and thick. ‘You understand?’

‘Y-Yes’ you whimpered.

‘You want me to fuck you?’

‘Y-Yes…’

‘I’m going to fuck you multiple times. I will ejaculate into you, multiple times. I will not let you lose any of it. You understand this?’

‘Y-Yess…’

‘It’s going to be rough’ he groaned, pressing the tip of his erect cock right against your sodden entrance. ‘Very rough.’

‘Yes…’

‘I will stop. But if you can take it—’

‘I can… take it, please, just… uh… do it’ you moaned.

Miguel sneered with pleasure. His pride bristled, and without wasting another second he spread your cunt with his fingers and shoved his cock inside.

You were winded by the force, and winded a second time by his refusal to start slow. The moment his erection slid up and kissed your cervix he was pumping like mad, grunting like an animal as he thrust his hips back and forth.

You were forced to moan into the sheets as you struggled to maintain any control. He was slipping himself all the way out, so far that only his bulbous member was left to stretch your entrance, before slipping back in within barely a second, stretching you out over and over.

You felt the soft walls stretching, expanding, tensing, and quivering in response to his intrusion, as he made your body his, as he molded you for his purpose.

And he made that purpose clear.

‘Need to… cum… Mmm… need to, fill you… put my baby in here…’

Miguel’s barely coherent grunts filled your ears as he bent your spine and slapped his pelvis into your rear, making the skin hot and raw where he hit it.

‘My… baby…. Mine… m-mine… you’re…. mine…!’

His grunting got wilder, rougher, and between that and your own moaning there was a third voice filling the bedroom. You glanced over, and through the sweaty strands of hair covering your eyes, you saw him.

Peter was watching, as promised, lazily spread out as he stroked and fisted his own cock. It was a gorgeous side, with his pajama pants just down to his thighs and his hand eagerly massaging his member.

And his eyes were fixed on you.

You felt the heat rising in your belly from this, as you were held down and pumped by that enormous, grunting, red-eyed man while his partner watched and stroked himself.

You made eye contact with Peter just for a moment, as he watched your sweaty face taking his partner's load, and with a shuddered groan he came.

You watched his eyes roll back and his lips part as he ejaculated into his own palm. God, what a pretty sight. There was so much of it, thick and slick and glossy in the dim light, coating his fingers and belly. It made you involuntarily clench your cunt around Miguel.

‘Y-You, AH-!’

You squeaked as Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting harder as he also climaxed. You felt his claws digging into your hips as he humped that first load in as deep as he could, ensuring it filled every damn inch of your pussy, smothering the walls until they were practically stuck together.

As he rocked to a halt you took a moment to breathe. There. That was good, he’d done it. And he—

‘Uh- come on!’

You squeaked in shock as Miguel began to rock his hips again, barely a second after he was done ejaculating. He continued to pump just as hard, pushing you face-first into the mattress as sweat flew from his brow.

‘Come on…. Come on…’

It was like a mantra he hissed to himself, as he overrode his brain's desire to rest. There was no rest. There was only breeding. There was only you, and that womb, that he NEEDED to fill.

‘Come on- come on- come on-‘

Your soft cries were barely audible over the creaking of the bed, over the aggressive slap of his pelvis as it thrust and smacked into your rear until it went numb.

‘COME ON- UHN—’

You felt Miguel’s whole body stiffen and release as he pumped that second load in. The hot, thick fluid seeped out and put even more pressure on your insides, forcing those soft muscular walls to strain. You squirmed a little.

‘M-Mmm, mm…’

No, no, you could take it. You could take it.

Miguel paused to grunt, his face now dripping with sweat and his thighs trembling from the pleasure of two ejaculations so close together, but even then he refused to stop.

You could only respond with a squeak as Miguel started pumping you all over again, violently rocking his hips as he pushed through the overstimulation and went for loads three.

‘AH! A-Ah—’

You tugged on the sheets so hard they nearly ripped as he thrust from behind, the smack of his hips letting out a dull, heavy thump that ripped through the room. He was groaning so hard, spitting and hissing involuntarily, his claws digging into your hips as he dragged you back against his cock.

‘Uh- uh- uh- uh- UH- UH- UH- !”

Thrust, after thrust, after mind-numbing thrust, until—

‘ARGH! F-FUCK!’

Miguel cried out weakly as he orgasmed for the third time in a row. He moved primally as he did so, his body bucking despite his exhaustion as he tried to pump it deep. You could only whimper.

You felt this load just like the others, in all of its terrifying potency. That thick, wet, hot seed spilling out and coating you from the inside, pressed right to your cervix with no escape. He was holding you against his pelvis and refusing to pull out, almost like some kind of basic form of knotting.

‘Hey, hey, big guy.’

As Miguel knelt over you, sweating and heaving, his chest dripping and slick, Peter crept up and gently gripped his shoulders. 

‘Hey, it’s okay. Take a breather’ he whispered.

‘Need, to… need to, prove…’

Miguel continued slowly rocking his hips, pushing past the overstimulation until his muscles were tensed and aching. He kept moving inside you, squishing until his cum started to slip out, which only drove him more mad.

He moved his hand down and used it to squish the little white drops back inside, all with his fat shaft still impaling you in place. You whimpered at the sudden extra intrusion.

‘Need to… Impregnate.. God, damn it..’

‘Miggy, hey…’ Peter continued stroking Miguel’s forehead as he continued rocking back and forth, pushing you until you whined. The pressure was immense. His cock, three loads

‘Give them a break, then.’

That seemed to snap Miguel out of his trance. He glanced down with those hazy red eyes and he saw you spread out beneath him, trembling from the strain of being taken so many times so fast. He saw the sweat on your skin, the shimmering glow on your skin, and the wetness of your parted lips.

Almost immediately he released his grip.

‘I… Mierda, I’m so sorry—’

‘No, I’m… f-fine…’ you whimpered. ‘I’m, not hurt…’

‘No, but, you are clearly exhausted’ Peter cooed softly. ‘It’s okay. If we really want to try again, we can, just… let’s rest.’

‘But—’

‘I know’ Peter whispered softly, his own melancholy seeping through. ‘I know. You both want this baby. A lot. I know. I want it too. But this isn’t going to change anything. So let’s just, rest for a moment, and go again. Okay?’

At that moment, Peter was the gentle voice of reason for both of you.

Miguel let out a soft grunt, but he did pull out slowly, making sure to keep his fingers and palm stuffed in the little swollen entrance between your thighs to keep his seed safely intact. You allowed your body to collapse into the sheets with a sigh.

His fingers made you jolt and whine on occasion, but, you could handle that.

The three of you lay back and moaned softly, trying to catch your breath, with Peter hugging both of you close.

As Peter held you, you couldn’t help but glance over at Miguel just a little, though you tried to keep your gaze hidden.

You were so confused by the insecurity you’d sensed in him. There was no other way to put it. Before he’d been so confident, so sure, so calm, like he was just messing around, but now… There was an urgency in his movement.

There was a need. That was the best word for it. But, it wasn’t just a need to get you pregnant. Not now.

There was a need to prove himself.

[miggyyyyohara]

ohshitohfuckohdamn

thank you for feeding us @exzeeve (twitter)

[tarjapearce]

~Imagine ~

Miguel kissing you everytime he actually does a push up.

You're underneath him, trying to keep up with his workout routine, but you're left breathless. He drags you by the ankle and hovers above as he gets in position to start his set.

You're caged underneath him, face flushed and somehow laughing at his antics, but you know he is serious when it comes to his training.

He'd kiss you as he lowered his body. And again, and again, until you trap him with your legs around his waist, and hands on his neck. To your little surprise, he lifts you without a sweat.

His lips twitch in a small smirk as you kept holding on him like a koala, until he collapses ontop of you, all air knocked out of you and that's the perfect moment he kisses you like he was intending.

Thighs on each side of his narrow slutty waist, one of his hands is enough to pin your arms above you as the other one roams the fullness of your hips, squeezing the plumpness of your ass. Tongue invading your mouth, dominating the little moist muscle effortlessly

He kisses until you squirm, begging for air, and when he breaks from you, enough to let you take deep breaths of needed air, his prongy fangs pull your bottom lip softly to then suckle at it; earning a whimper from you to then release you with a small pop

Face as stoic as usual, but eyes glinting with something you've grown to know too well. Need.

"¿Empezamos con el cardio?" (Shall we start on the cardio?)

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed

UPDATE: Part 2

I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:

DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.

It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.

You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.

He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?

Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.

Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.

You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.

Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.

[wyvernest]

mating szn

PART 2‼️ (part 1)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.

Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.

Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner. 

Too bad.

Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.

You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold. 

You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.

He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you. 

His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.

His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.

"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,

"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.

He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately. 

He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.

His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back. 

He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.

He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.

But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight. 

He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.

His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.

"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster. 

Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.

His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.

You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.

He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.  

"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.

"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.

"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.) 

You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.

"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.

He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.

Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.

You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.

Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.

The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.

As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.

His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.

He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his. 

Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.

He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.

The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers. 

Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.

Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties. 

He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)

Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.

You gasp, a little above a moan.

"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.

He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.

Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.

Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.

Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.

You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.

Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.

A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.

He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust. 

The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly. 

His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.

Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.

“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts. 

You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.

Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.

"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.

He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin. 

He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.

With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.

He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.

He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Dinner long forgotten.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing

TAGS

@thel0velykey190 @allysunny @weirdothatwritess @animechick93 @6thhokageswife @spookydragonsong @aisyakirmann @playmatenextdoor @skulfan1 @sat10 @2joos2cry @2099hitmylineyline @aiyaaayei @holographicang3l @heartfairy @cyberbugg @freehentai @acrazybiotch374 @theywhowriteandknowthings @shinyberry69 @pluviophilis @barely-thriving23 @realalpacorn @thekidscallmebosss @hrlzy @m4dyy @cringeycookies @tendoswifi @greatheartattacks @reborn-rekall @darksidescorner @yehet-moi-ohorat @poeticmoonspirit @kth137

[fettuccin-e]

Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[feralgirlfeelings]

miguel o'hara breeding kink smut cause i'm ovulating rn

pairing: miguel o'hara x female reader

tags: established relationship, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, little bit of dumbification, little bit of orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, female reader, afab anatomy, dom!miguel, oneshot

SO NSFW. minors dni!

spanish to english translations are at the bottom :)

word count: 992

he has you lying down with your ass up, pillow under your hips, and a firm grip on your hips. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and about how much he wants to fuck you.

miguel slides his thick, hard cock in between your folds, soaking in your wetness, before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly pushes into your tight cunt.

"fuuuck, i missed this," miguel groans, holding back the urge to plunge deep inside you. you bury your face into the sheets as you feel the mild ache of being stretched out. he continues to slide in until he reaches the hilt, his tip pushing against your cervix.

he pauses to give you a moment to adjust to his girth. you feel so full, you can barely breathe. "go slow miguel, you're too big," you whine.

he chuckles, "lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño." he starts to pump into you, straining to keep a slow pace. your heavy breaths and soft moans fill the room.

as he slowly thrusts his dick into your tight cunt, the previous sting of being stretched transforms into a throbbing pleasure.

you feel a coil start to form in your lower abdomen and your moans start to get louder, his gentle pace no longer being enough for you. "mm, fuck me harder, miguel," you plead.

"anything for you, my princesa." he tightens his grip on your hips as he drags his dick out until his tip is just slightly kissing your entrance. he then slams his hips against you, driving his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your stomach.

you weren't prepared for the sheer power that this man is fucking you with. he thrusts into you at a dizzying pace and you can barely choke out his name.

"te sientes tan bien." he slaps your ass, delivering a sharp sting that makes you inhale sharply, "fuck you're so tight." he grabs your asscheek, groaning at the site of himself sliding in and out of you.

you moan in response, barely comprehending what he was saying. you were so fucked out of your mind and could only focus on the orgasm that you were so close to having.

just as you feel yourself almost reach your peak, miguel pulls out, leaving you empty. your poor walls clench around nothing. "miguel!" you whine in protest, "put it back in!"

he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. "i want to see your pretty face when you cum." he separates your folds with his cock, rubbing against your sensitive clit. you wrap your arms and legs around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, before plugging you back up again.

all you can do is mumble his name over and over again as he continuously rams into you. every pump delivering mind-numbing pleasure. the orgasm you were robbed of had crept back, and once again you felt a tightness in your stomach.

"i'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you," he groaned in between the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your soft flesh.

his words drive you crazy. the thought of being stuffed full of miguel's hot, thick cum brought you closer to the edge. he knows you're close, so he pounds into you faster and harder, chasing your release.

pressure builds until you feel the tension wound in your stomach burst. you cry out his name as your walls contract and you cream around his cock. he groans at the feeling of the added slick and your pussy squeezing around his dick.

he doesn't stop after you come down from your high. "you did so good, mami," he whispers in your ear, "ahora es mi turno." he holds you in place by your hips and fucks his dick into you, driven by a primal desire to fill you with his seed.

you're overstimulated and fucked out, your body limp and your eyes rolled back. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to be bred by miguel. "m-miguel," you stutter, "breed me. p-please."

"te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada. you're gonna make such a pretty mommy. f-fuck—" his thrusts get more erratic as he inches closer to his peak. he groans out your name before slamming your hips down onto his dick. he shutters as he releases thick ropes of cum into your desperate cunt, flooding your velvety walls. all you manage to do is let out some strained moans. nothing mattered more in that moment than you taking his seed. he makes sure to stuff his cum deep inside you, his tip jamming the entrance to your fertile womb. he pauses for second to catch his breath, before slowly rolling his hips, just to make sure he gave you every last drop.

he stops thrusting and collapses on top of you, but keeps you plugged up with his dick. his excess seed starts to dribble out of you. you're both panting, sweaty, and exhausted. he moves the hair out of your face and meets your lips with his for a gentle kiss. "look what you do to me. me vuelves loco, cariño,"

you let out a weak giggle, "you want my babies?" you ask playfully. you tangle your fingers in his hair, lazily combing through his messy locks.

"yeah," he returns a chuckle, "you're too pretty to not breed." he starts peppering your face and neck with pecks. "eres mi bonita esposa."

"i think you'd make a great father," you smile warmly and interlock your fingers with his. "you know...usually it takes a few tries before it takes."

"oh?" he asks amusingly, "well, i guess i'll have to fill you up again."

you feel his dick start to harden again inside of you. you brace yourself for another round.

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translations: ("lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño" -> "you're doing so good, sweetheart") ("te sientes tan bien" -> "you feel so good") ("ahora es mi turno" -> "it's my turn now") ("te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada" -> "i'm gonna fill you up with my cum, fuck you till you're pregnant") ("me vuelves loco, cariño" -> "you drive me crazy, sweetheart") ("eres mi bonita esposa" -> you're my pretty wife")

hope you enjoy!!! >:0 btw this is my first time writing a fic that included dialogue in spanish, so idk if things are all well-written or gramatically correct. i tried to take some tips from spanish-speaking miguel o'hara enjoyers, but if anyone wants to correct anything or give me tips, i'm super super open to it!