#miguel x black fem

[bibiwrld]

The Sweet Babysitter🧁🎀| Miguel O’Hara

previous: –nine.

–ten.

KENEDI’S POV

Getting ready was a hassle, I already knew what I was wearing, but my hair, my God, how annoying it could be sometimes. I brushed it back once more, sleeking it down so it could be pulled into a large low puff. After bursting about 3 hair ties and what felt like an eternity, I succeeded in putting my hair into one.

My outfit was on, admiring myself while fixing my edges. I rarely wore fancy dresses, but Mommy always insisted on getting me them, because I don’t know when I’d be asked on a date. Before I even got ready, I was on the phone with Miguel. He had to visit his Mom, which meant he’d be running a bit late, so he told me to go by the house and wait on him as he got ready and we’d take his car to the restaurant.

Looking in the mirror once more to apply more clear gloss to my brown lip lined lips, I rubbed them together so the lip liner and gloss could mix into the beautiful cinnamon color. I put my things into my purse and texted Miguel while walking out my room.

Me

Leaving home now

My stomach fluttered after sending that text. This was my first date ever and it was with a sexy ass man. Walking towards my car, my phone went off. I knew it was Miguel.

I didn’t check my phone until I got into the car and started it.

Miguel <3

Just got out the shower. Drive safely <3

I imagined him standing in his room, a towel lazily hanging from his hip—oh God, I shouldn’t be thinking of things like this. Patting both of my cheeks lightly, I tried getting rid of my provocative thoughts and started my car.

🌸

“How’s it taste?” Miguel asked, removing the fork from my mouth. He gave me the last bite of his food, wanting both of us to enjoy each other’s meal.

I chewed slowly, savoring the taste of the salmon. “It’s very good, but not better than your cooking.”

That gained a low chuckle from him.

Our plates were now empty, but we weren’t ready to leave yet, so engrossed in our conversation. But I found it hard to keep up with Miguel.

Focus. Focus. Focus. I just can’t. I’m listening, but my eyes are focused on every inch of his perfectly crafted body.

I don’t know if it’s the mood of this restaurant, very gorgeous by the way, but he looked more handsome than ever.

His white button down, having a few buttons undone to showcase his hairy chest and gold cross chain— how can I be normal right now??

Then I looked up, his hair framed his face so nicely, it looked little a different, almost like he got a—

“Did you get a haircut?”

He stopped mid sentence and touched his hair, smiling shyly. “I did, you noticed.” He sounded so pleased. “Do you like it?”

“I do, y-you look very cute, Miguel.”

He smiled again. “Thank you. I wanted to compliment you the entire night, but I don’t even know what to say, you’re so out of this world, Kenedi.”

My back straightened up at his words. An uncontrollable smile crept up on my face, my teeth on full display for him.

“Dios mio..” I heard him mutter, with his eyes locked on me.

“Are you ready for the bill?” The waiter asked.

Miguel shifted his gaze to the waiter. “Uh.. yes.”

After he paid, which he didn’t hesitate to do, we walked out the restaurant hand in hand. Our conversation strung on even on our drive back to his house, but soon came to an end as we stood on his porch.

“I had a very amazing night with you, Miguel.” My voice came out softer than I wanted. I couldn’t even maintain eye contact with him, it was so intense.

The air felt thicker and hotter. Our bodies felt like they were getting closer.

“Thank you for allowing to me spend the night with you, I had lots of fun.” He took his hands out of his pockets. “We should do this again, yeah?”

Nodding quickly, I smiled. “We should.”

“Kenedi..” He breathed out, staring deeply into my eyes.

My heart quickened. “Yea—”

His phone blared in his pocket. He began mumbling under his breath, clearly pissed at whoever was calling, totally ruining the mood.

“I-I’m gonna get going, I’ve got work in the morning.” I said to him, excusing myself.

He looked up from his phone and clearly he didn’t like what I said. His lips formed a slight frown. “Oh..okay, just let me know when you’re home please?”

His phone rang again and he groaned.

“I will, good night.” I got into my car, heart racing as I started the engine and drove off.

Was he going to kiss me if his phone didn’t ring? What would’ve happened after that?

My thoughts continued until I made it home, even as I got undressed.

I should probably text him and let him know that I’m home, but my phone wasn’t the purse I used. It wasn’t even on my bed.

Maybe I left it at the restaurant? But I remember checking the time on my phone in my Miguel’s car.

I sighed, grabbing my keys and going back downstairs to my car.

Can’t believe I forgot my phone in his car.

For what like forever, I made it to his house. I stood outside his house, praying the spare key was under the flower pot, and thankfully it was. Quickly, I opened the door.

“Mi—”

“I’ve missed you.”

The woman’s voice sounded familiar.

“Lorelai..” I heard Miguel in the distance.

Lorelai. How is ex wife. Is that who called him?

I didn’t even notice her car in the driveway.

“Think about what Gabby would want, she’d want us back together, Migs. She misses us together.”

Footsteps began making their way closer to me, then a door opened.

“She said that? Gabby told you that?”

Instantly I panicked. What if they come down here? Should I hide?

“Yes Migs. Would I ever lie to you?”

I shouldn’t even be hearing this conversation right now. I feel sick, jealous, and maybe just a little bit betrayed.

I heard him sigh. “Lorelai, I need to go to bed right now, you should too.” His voice was now clearer.

“I still love you!” She shouted.

I stood there awkwardly, looking at the two.

They were now downstairs and didn’t even notice me standing there awkwardly until I stifled a cough.

The tension in the room was incredibly thick.

Miguel turned around in complete shock when he saw me, as if I wasn’t supposed to be there. “Kenedi.”

“Uh sorry for interrupting you guys, but I forgot my phone in your car.” I rubbed my shoulder awkwardly, ignoring the glares from Lorelai, who had one of Gabby’s plushies in her hand.

“Lorelai, please leave.”

Lorelai strutted out the house, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Kenedi—”

“My phone, Miguel.” I wasn’t in the mood to hear any type of explanation. I just wanted to go home and lay in my bed and cry a little bit.

He looked so hurt when I cut him off. “Right.”

I followed behind him and he unlocked the car. Lorelai was gone by then. I searched for my phone and found it underneath the passenger seat.

“Thanks.” I said quickly to Miguel and scurried away to my car before he could say anything.

I could see his silhouette standing on his porch, just watching me drive away.

🎀

next: –eleven.

[kentosblkgf]

Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf

Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.

Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.

Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.

His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.

He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”

Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.

“Hush baby, be patient.”

“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.

You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.

“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”

You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.

Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.

“Miguel please, more.”

You whined.

“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)

Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.

“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)

Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.

“Look at yourself.”

Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.

Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.

But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.

It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.

He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.

"You gonna take it?"

It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.

"Promise."

That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.

You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.

"Deeper."

Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.

"Mig- oh fuck wait."

"Don't be a liar baby."

letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.

Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.

Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.

He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.

He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.

Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.

"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.

He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.

"Hold your legs." Fuck.

He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.

"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.

"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.

"Better keep that promise."

Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.

You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.

"C'mon, baby."

he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.

Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.

He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"So good.."

It sounds like you are whining.

"You're fucking me so good."

Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.

He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.

"Open your eyes."

You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.

You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.

"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?

"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.

His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.

You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.

His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.

The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.

"Cum baby."

He's pleading for you to cum.

So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.

Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.

"Come back to me, c'mon."

He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.

"M'gonna move okay?"

You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.

He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.

"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.

You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.

This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

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

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Blue 🧼

[3hunnidstunt]

“ take this shit stop running ” he breathed yanking your tank top to stop you from crawling away, now you’re back at the edge of the bed. his thrust are getting harsh and meaner every second, his tip hitting your cervix. “ oh fucking god — i can’t take it ” you cried and tried to push him away to aleast get a breather. “ why you like bein’ mean t’ me so much mama? gotta teach you something everyday? ” his hand came to your braids, yanking on them to lift your face from the pillow. “ ‘said ‘m sorry, it’s too much - fuck ” you whined, your hand flying back to grab at his wrist but it was pushed away. he chuckled landing a smack on one cheek at a time. “ keep fuckin’ playin with me y/n - you know how i get ” he grumbled with one hair tangling your braids and the other on your hip. your legs started to shake, your eyes rolling backs and lips drooling. you let out a bunch of sorry’s and forgive me’s but he ignore you only focusing on the cum ring around his cock and how tight your pussy is. “ i know you not sorry, don’t lie t’ me. rub that pretty clit for me, you still not cumming ” you rub your clit slowly, the overwhelming feeling of having your orgasm filled your mind completely ignore what he said. “ feels so good daddy, please let me cum im sorry - im so sorry daddy please. ”

“ keep saying that shit, im still not done with you ”

[fizziedoodle]

dating miguel o'hara pt.2 ᯽

[vampireimiko]

pregnant reader x miguel o’hara: gabis first parent teacher conference and they’ve gotta explain why she keeps saying her dads gonna whoop the kids ass whenever they piss her off

parent teacher conference

warnings, none at all !! just like 1 cuss word or something 💀

note, THANK YEW FOR REQUESTING VENUS 🫶🏾🫶🏾, this is the longest oneshot ive ever made😭 anyway i hope you all enjoy !!

It's Parent Teacher Conference night, and Miguel finds himself sitting near the back of the auditorium to keep an eye on the meeting. There seems to be a bit of arguing between teachers and parents about the workload being too much for some students, when he senses a presence next to him and looks up to see that you, his wife, sits to his left, who is visibly pregnant and with her own plate filled with food.

"Oh my god- Miguel! This food is so good, do you want some?" You said, mouth full of a bit of everything on your plate. Miguel chuckled at your antics and shook his head no.

"As entertaining as this is" He says pointing towards the arguments in front of him, "I'm just ready to have our 1 on 1 with Gabriella's teacher."

You agreed with him, as you two had been sitting here for quite some time. But just like clockwork, Gabriella's teacher, Ms. Rose walked up to you and Miguel letting you know she was ready to have your conference.

Ms. Rose greeted you both with a warm smile, her eyes briefly glancing at your visibly pregnant belly before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you both for being here tonight! I appreciate your dedication to Gabriella's education."

You exchanged a nod and a smile, grateful for the teacher's acknowledgment. Miguel stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine interest. "We're looking forward to hearing about Gabriella's progress and any areas where we can support her better."

"Of course! Please if you could follow me to my classroom and we can get straight into discussing." With that being said, you and Miguel get up from the seats with him having to help you. It was getting hard for you stand up by yourself and you absolutely could not wait to have this baby out of you. Anyway enough of that, you and Miguel make your way too the classroom following behind Ms. Rose.

She opens the door and encourages you two to sit wherever. As you settled into the seats, she began sharing Gabriella's achievements and areas for improvement, providing a comprehensive overview of her academic journey.

The both of you listened to her intently, focusing on what Gabriella needed a bit more help on. You and Miguel took turns asking questions and clarification's on certain things. You could tell Ms. Rose genuinely cared about her students, taking the time to learn they're strengths and challenges.

"Now despite Gabriella being absolutely wonderful, there is one more thing I'd like to address." Ms Rose said switching her tone to a more serious one. You and Miguel looked at one another then back at her.

"Yes?"

"I've been overhearing Gabriella tell people that Mr. O'Hara here would come up to the school and in her words, 'whoop anybody who pisses me off'."

The both of your eyes widened. Miguel knew he said that, you know he said that, hell even the baby inside of you knew he said it! Not only did be say that, but he meant it aswell. Nobody is messing with his babygirl.

"Miguel!" You slapped his shoulder, putting on a serious front up in front of Ms. Rose, knowing damn well you wanted so badly to burst out laughing.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Ms. Rose observed the exchange between you, Miguel, and your shared reaction. Your attempt to maintain a serious demeanor in front of her was quickly crumbling as your suppressed laughter threatened to burst forth.

Miguel's face turned a shade of red, realizing the weight of his words and the potential consequences they might have had. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his eyes darting between you, Ms. Rose, and the floor.

"I-I apologize Ms. Rose. That was a misguided attempt at humor. I never intended for her to come to school and say something like that." He said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ms. Rose, her expression a mix of amusement and understanding, nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Miguel. It's essential to address such statements to ensure a safe and inclusive environment for everyone."

You struggled to contain your laughter, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Taking a deep breath, you managed to compose yourself enough to speak without bursting into giggles. "Yes, Ms. Rose, we apologize for any confusion caused. We'll make sure to have a conversation with Gabriella about appropriate language and the importance of respectful interactions."

Ms. Rose's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I understand that children can sometimes pick up on our words and interpret them in unexpected ways. It's important for us as adults to model the behavior we want to see in them."

Fast foward to being done with the conference, you and Miguel were walking too the car. He stopped the both of you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he leans down to your stomach.

"Just to let you know, that same statement in there goes for you too."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 !! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[slushycoookie]

Between Two Worlds ~ Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader (Pt.5)

★ Word Count: 3.9k

★ Content: Miguel is so smitten, it's serious. You two also go on a few more dates. The topic of the nature of your relationship comes up. Dana appears...again...

★ A/N: Hey, hey sorry this chapter took so long to come out. And is short! But I wanted to make sure I put this out before I start Kinktober. So enjoy!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩Prev | Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the date last night.

Even as he mindlessly scanned the row of paint cans, looking at his phone for the exact color his mother wanted. Eggshell white and Bahama blue. Yet, he was seeing none of those colors.

It didn't help that his mind kept lingering on you. Reminding himself about how pretty you looked last night. Your beautiful body hugging that dress. How soft you were when you kissed, taking in your full lips to sear it into his memory. It took Miguel almost a hour to convince himself to remove the trace of lipstick from his lips when he settled down last night.

He missed you. He wanted to see you again.

It was clear you did too when you sent him a voice message this morning, saying those words after the usual good morning. Your voice low as if you just woke up, but still sounding just as beautiful.

Miguel needed to focus. His mother wouldn't tolerate him messing around in the store, especially since the exact colors he was looking for were in front of his face the whole time.

He couldn't help but be grateful to his mother for giving him something to do. Otherwise, Miguel would be lying in bed thinking about you all day. He needed you to occupy his space day and night. Be close to you. Touch you.

It gets so bad he wonders what it would be like if you helped him shop.

Would you be able to tell the difference between the paint colors his mom wanted? Would you start looking at colors yourself to prepare for your house? Miguel would be on board to help you, making sure you don’t carry anything heavy. He didn’t want your nails to break. He’s sure you’d wear something on the verge of cute and comfortable during the shopping trip. And he’d try not to stare while he was picking out paintbrushes.

Miguel had to do another date with you soon, or else he’d do something drastic.

He dropped off the materials his mother needed, not wanting to be there longer than he had to. Miguel didn’t want to get into the reason why she was fixing up the house. He caulked it up as her wanting not to mourn for her abusive husband.

Conchata checked off the list as Miguel brought the items inside the house. He wasn’t listening when his phone vibrated. He wondered if it was you. He hoped it was you.

“What's going on with you?”

He freezes when placing the paint cans by the wall in the house.

“What? Nothing.”

“I could've sworn I saw you walk faster.”

“No, I didn't.” Miguel glances at all the materials, paint, caulk to patch up the walls, some roller brushes, etc. Enough to start the home improvement process. “Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so.”

His eyes land on the tarp on the floor, “You’re not planning to do all of this by yourself, right?”

“I’m not. I hired some people to do it for me. All I have to do is push them around.”

Miguel tries not to shake his head when she holds up swatches along the wall. “Call me if you need anything else.”

He gave her a gentle kiss against her head before taking his leave. When he did so, he checked his phone and felt disappointed when it was just a notification reminding him of the time he went to the museum with Dana. The picture showed both of them at a high-end event, with neutral smiles and dressed up.

When he dated Dana, there was a vast difference between you and her.

Although the incident with her wasn't fresh in his mind anymore, he still remembered what it was like being with her. When they were engaged, everything was relaxed and quiet despite them taking the next steps in their lives.

You were the opposite.

Not chaotic, but ecstatic about the newfound relationship status.

You'd send him messages while Miguel was at work, telling him to have a good day with a swarm of emojis. You'd send him more voice messages, which're filled with various topics. About your own day, what you saw while browsing social media, and he'd listen. You reciprocated too when inviting him to talk about his interests and his day.

Dana hardly did any of that. She'd settle on a good morning before not getting into much detail about her day. Almost bored about the topic. Her eyes were on the verge of disinterest whenever Miguel had a chance to talk about himself.

Then there were the dates.

Dana was more fond of high-end luxuries like five-star restaurants, museums, and theaters. The more expensive, the better. Miguel didn’t have problems with it; he was known to indulge in those pleasantries from time to time. But with you, it was the opposite.

The two of you went to the mall.

You insisted that hanging out for a few hours and window shop would be fun. Miguel figured you'd want to go into one of the luxury stores to browse. Only for you to hardly go into any of them.

He watches you point at a cute handbag on display or dazzling shoes that would fit with your aesthetic at the club. So imagine his surprise when you walk away to look at something else instead of buying it.

“I thought you liked it.”

“I do…” Your eyes skim across more pretty shoes, “But I don't need them.”

“You want them though.” You shrug, and he steps into your line of sight. “I can buy them for you.”

“No, don't do that. I'm good.”

You try to get out of the shoe aisle, but Miguel blocks your path. “I want to. I'm your boyfriend. I want to give you nice things.”

“Did you not see the price tag?” You return to the shoes and pick them up, the price of almost two hundred dollars. “I've rarely bought shoes for that price.”

“I got it.” Miguel takes the shoes, but you hold them close to your chest.

“Hold up. If you buy something for me, I'll buy something for you.”

“I don't need anything.” He tries to take your shoes again, but you turn away.

“You don't have to need anything. But if there's something you want, I'll get it.”

“No, really I'm good-”

“I'm not taking no for an answer, baby.”

Miguel sucks his teeth before agreeing with your proposal. You squeal, more excited to continue your trek around the mall, your new goal being to buy him something he wants.

Dana hardly offered to buy him anything the whole time they were together. She did go out of her away to buy him things, mainly chains or designer watches, but that's for his birthday or Christmas. Not during a random day of the week.

You pointed out multiple stores that fits Miguel’s aesthetic. He decided to go into one that had button down shirts he liked to wear for work. As he browsed through the shirt racks, eyes were on him. Yours were following his movements, ready to grab a shirt that caught his eye.

“How's this?” Miguel holds up a powder blue shirt and you inspect it.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let's get it!”

He can finally relax when satisfying you with his choice, but you notice the tag. “Wait, it's only thirty bucks.”

Miguel also glances at it, “Oh, is that too much? I can get something else-”

“Miguel.” You give him a look, “First off, don't insult me like that again. Secondly, you just spent two hundred dollars on me, which is not the same.”

“Oh.” He looks at the shirt and then back at you. “So, I can get a few more?”

“Yeah, you can.”

Miguel puts more effort into his search. He gets a few more shirts, but the total is still less than what he spent on you. You don't say anything as he thanks you with a bright smile.

Taking a quick break by eating at the food court, Miguel's phone vibrates from Gabriel's message. Without completely looking at it yet, his eyes roll at knowing what the message was going to say, asking the daily question of when he was going to meet you. Sure, it's been two months since he started dating you, but he didn't want to rush you.

Miguel tried to hide his disdain by so much as you were feeding him macaroons. His lips grazing your fingers while taking a bite. Your thumb wiping off the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. Your eyes connecting and you shoot him a wink, the action shooting down to his lower body. He gets a strong urge to pull you back to the car so he can kiss you all over.

He groans when the phone vibrates against the table again.

“Is there a fire somewhere?”

“The fire being my brother. He keeps texting me about wanting to meet you. I keep telling him it depends on when you want to.”

You take a sip from your Boba tea before outstretching your hand. “Gimme.”

As Miguel places his phone in your palm, you casually press video call.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm saying hi to your brother.” You hold up the phone, making sure you were decent for the camera. When the call connects, you flash the biggest smile on the planet. “Hi, Gabriel.”

“Hi? Uh, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

You purse your lips, “He’s munching on some macaroons. Say hi, Miguel.” You briefly turn the phone to Miguel, making him wave before turning the phone back to you.

“Oh. My. God. You're who my brother is dating? Do you know how many times I've been asking to meet you?”

Too many times.

“A lot. It's okay though I've been wanting to meet you too. You're the main one blowing up his phone.”

“Somebody’s gotta do it-Hey, babe!” Gabriel shouts through the phone, making you and Miguel snort. “Come here real quick and meet Miguel’s girl!”

You're laughing when Kasey approaches the phone, waving hello to her.

“Whoa, you're the woman who's dating Miguel? Damn, you're hot.”

Gabriel held his hands up. “My girlfriend said it, not me.”

“Okay, that's enough out of you two.” Miguel reaches for the phone, but is stopped by Gabriel's protest.

“No, wait not until Xina sees her! I know she's not busy. She just told me she was binging that zombie show.”

“Ooh is it the one where if you die, you come back as a zombie?” You ask and Gabriel snaps.

“Yes! That's the one.”

“I lost interest after season four.” Kasey inputs.

“I liked that season!” You add in, “In my opinion, it goes downhill after season eight.”

To Miguel’s surprise, Xina picks up, seeing a bunch of faces on the screen.

“Didn’t I tell you not to bother me because I'm vegging out on my couch?”

“Stop vegging out and meet Miguel’s girlfriend.”

You wave once more, “Hi! It's very nice to meet you.”

“Oh, likewise.” Xina sits up, angling herself to not subject you to her binging phase.

“I'm sorry they sprung this on you. I just wanted to say hi.”

“It's fine. Maybe this will get Gabri to shut up for a while.”

“It won't.” Gabriel interjected, “Because I'm not able to touch you yet. Give you one of my famous hugs.”

“You don't want that.” Miguel whispered over to you.

“Huh? What did he say?”

“Nothing!” You change the conversation: "I want to meet you guys too. It would be best if you all came to the club. Enjoy yourselves.”

Xina raises an eyebrow, “You'd invite us to your job?”

“Yeah. There's good drinks, food…”

“And half-naked dancers.”

“Well, that too.”

Xina lets out an unsure hum, and Miguel slots himself back into the conversation.

“Okay, we have to go now.”

“Aww no.” Gabriel pouts.

“Send me your number!” Kasey shouts. "We have to put you in the group chat!”

“Okay.” You say goodbye to them all before hanging up and giving him back his phone. “They seem nice.”

“They act worse than this.”

“But they love you. That’s always nice to have.”

Miguel couldn’t hold back his smile when you slip your fingers through his across the table, creating small circles on the back of his hand.

The anxiety he never knew he had lessened after you took the initiative to meet his family. And he wasn’t worried about the face-to-face meeting after the positive reception you received from everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

“She seems nice.” Xina said through the phone call.

Miguel nods as if she can see him, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel after dropping you off, “She is. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

“Me too…” He notices her trailing off, and anxiety starts pooling in his stomach.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Not that serious.”

“Well, I’m suspecting it as the way you trailed off.”

Xina hums and he hears movement on the other line. “I’m just wondering, how is your relationship going to work?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and your dancer. You two are dating now. And you blow a lot of money when you go over there.”

“It’s not a lot of money.” Miguel mumbles, “Well, we’re acting like everything is normal. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything.”

When Miguel steps foot in the club, he tries to act like his usual self. A customer who wasn’t dating one of the dancers. It was for the best since you didn’t want anyone to find out. Especially Jess.

“I get that, but you know your relationship can be seen as…odd.”

“Odd? What do you mean by that?”

Xina remains silent. How convenient when he’s at a stop light, hanging on to every word she said to him so far. His hands getting clammy against the wheel.

“Miguel, you have a fairly decent, well, almost powerful position at a huge company. And you’re dating someone who shakes their ass at a popular nightclub. You also give them a lot of money in exchange for what, a private dance? Please tell me you’re catching on to what I’m saying.”

He almost crashed into a car at the realization. After swerving into the right lane and reassuring Xina, who panicked, Miguel pulled over to gather his thoughts. He didn’t pick up on the slight power imbalance you two had when you started dating. Miguel thought it was harmless.

“I-I’m not taking advantage of her or using her. Does it look that way? Oh god, it does look that way.”

“It can also appear that she’s using you or taking advantage with you. Because of your money. I brought this up with you before. When you told me Dana was buying a bunch of expensive stuff when you got that head geneticist job-”

“I told you Dana isn’t like that. And neither is she.” During your first meeting, you weren’t adamant on taking more of his money. Sure, he knows about you wanting to save up for a house, and part of his money is being contributed to said house. Miguel didn’t think like that.

“Okay, fine. You know her more than me. I still think it’s best to clear up any confusion by having a conversation. So you two are on the same page.”

Xina was right. Having a conversation would help you two in the long run, especially when your relationship starts to get serious.

He tried to call you when he got home, but you didn’t pick up. You were probably still too busy at the club. That was for the best since the conversation was better to have face-to-face.

The next time, Miguel’s stomach twisted when he sat down in the private room.

You greeted him with a wave, closing the door behind you. The click from your heels matched the pounding in his head. He rubbed the sweat from his palms against his pants, holding in the urge to throw up. As you picked up the remote to decide a song, he grabbed your hand.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah. Let me pick a song first-”

“No, no song.”

You squint, “What do you mean ‘no song’? What’s wrong?”

“Am I taking advantage of you?” Miguel blurted out. He didn’t give you a chance to speak as he continued, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize my position would make our relationship odd. And I’m realizing that I’ve still been paying you a bunch of money since we started dating and I know you’re trying to buy a house, but I don’t want anyone to suspect you’re using me to help you buy one, which I know is not your intention-”

You silence him with a kiss. He accepts, his shoulders relaxing when he tastes your mango-scented lip gloss. You look directly into his deep eyes when you pull an inch away.

“Calm down.”

“Okay.”

You toss the remote to the side. “You’re not taking advantage of me and I’m not taking advantage of you.”

“But I give you almost a thousand every week.”

“You do, but I didn’t ask you to do that. That’s all you.”

“Because I want to support you. Now, I realize that throwing money for you to give me dances isn’t the best look. And we’re dating so…”

“I don’t care.” You say, hand on your hip. “Our positions don’t matter. I like you. You like me. What’s the problem?”

“I’m giving you money every time I come here.”

“So stop coming here if you have a problem with it.”

“I…”

He can’t. Seeing you in your element is one of the highlights of his week. What else was he supposed to do if he didn’t see you as much with your job? Miguel loves the dates he goes on with you, but he also enjoys watching you dance.

“I’m sorry.” You run your hand through his hair. Miguel leans into your touch, soothing the impending vomit in his throat. “I don’t want you to stop coming, but I don’t know what to do if you’re struggling like this. You know how Jess is about people not spending money in here.”

Miguel lights up.

“Can I speak to Jess?”

Your face twists with confusion, “Why?”

“I have an idea.”

Jess was in her office, in the back of The Weave, right near the locker rooms for the dancers. When you knocked, the door opened to Kaine, another of Jess’s security. Miguel always thought he was more intimidating due to the scar on his face and the buzz cut. He pays both of you no mind when he brushes aside you two.

“Jess? Your favorite customer wants to speak to you.”

“Which one?” Jess peers up from her computer, lighting up when Miguel comes into view, “Oh, Mr. Science Guy! What you need?” Miguel glances over at you and you give him the ok sign, leaving to return to the floor. “You finally gonna tell me that you’re dating one of my dancers?”

His eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know that?”

“You and Silk be giving cute glances at each other every five minutes. And don’t forget the private rooms have cameras.”

Miguel cleared his throat, not expecting to get hit what that. Now, he wasn’t sure if the idea he came up with was going to work.

“I really like her.”

“And that’s fine. As long as y’all don’t fuck in the club, I don’t care what you two do.” He nods at her words. “I will say this though. If you hurt my girl and you decide to show your sorry ass in the club, I will ban you for life and kick you to the curb.”

He gulped, fixing the collar on his shirt. “I understand.”

“Good.” Jess's tough demeanor returns to relaxed. "Now, what did you want to talk about?”

Miguel pulls out a grand and places it on the table. “Is it okay if I pay you this amount weekly? This is the same amount I give to Silk when I come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Jess inspects the money, letting the bills fly across her thumb. “What’s the deal?”

“I want to keep coming here, but I don’t feel comfortable handing money directly to Silk since we are…an item. I still want to support your business and the dancers so, would that be enough?”

“Did you two fuck yet?”

“Huh? N-No! No, we didn’t…”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you weren’t pussy whipped.” She places the money to the side, “That’s fine, but what do you get out of this?”

Miguel plays with the ends of his shirt, “I still want those forty-five minutes with her.”

“…that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jess stares at him, inspecting his frame. The silence between them lingers as the pulsing beat from the club bangs against the walls. Miguel’s palms start to coat with sweat again, and he casually rubs them against his pants.

“Okay. You got a deal.”

He shifts with his feet. “O-Oh okay. Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” She shakes his hand as if this was the start of a profitable business deal.

Now, everything was perfect.

You two have stabilized the foundation of your relationship. Miguel just arranged plans for his family, excluding his mother to meet you at The Weave for an official meet and greet. And he was going to ask you if you wanted to go to the Banquet with him.

A brief doubt occurred that maybe it was too soon since the relationship was new. You could always say no. He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable.

He wishes you could see the smile on his face when you text him saying yes. Your messages are filled with excited GIFs and reaction pictures.

“You're very happy today.” Dana interrupts and Miguel quickly puts his phone away.

“I-It's a good day today. Got a decent amount of work done…”

“Because Tyler stopped messing with you. I told him to lay off on you since you do so much.”

Miguel was too busy being happy about his relationship to realize that Tyler hasn’t bothered him lately.

“Really?”

Her nod and smug face said it all. “Even after everything, I'm still looking after you.”

“Thanks…” He moved over, letting her pour enough coffee into her mug. While passing her the usual cream and sugars, their hands brushed together. Miguel's muscles tensed while Dana giggled at the sudden contact.

“You excited about the banquet? Sure, it's about a month away, but…”

“I am. Even though it's work-related, it'd be nice to get away for the weekend.”

Dana nods, taking a sip of her coffee while Miguel pours himself another cup.

“Are you going to be okay?” His brows furrow at her question. “I mean, we usually go together every year since you started working here. I know it's going to be a change.”

Miguel holds back a grin, “Yeah, yeah I'll be okay.”

Tags: @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings

@bajbr @freehentai @chubbybyunnie

@ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour

@imamexican @tatatida @aphinthestars

@bluesidez @saintdiior @prettygirleli

@twinkdrakez @vicravluv @brown-eyed-thang

@peachipeachy @sonicbutbutter @mermaidian02

@celi-xxmoon @roserfz27 @hellokittyloverrxox

@sweeetas @avengersinitiative2012

[blond3ang3l]

“Please baby can’t take no moree”

Of course Miguel didn’t care how much whined and pleaded he wasn’t done with your punishment at all. You decided to pull a little stunt by being to touchy with Hobie while at a meeting with the rest of the spidermen.

He gripped your thigh pushing your leg up by your ear and thrusting impossibly deeper. Groans and moans filled the room as he quickened his pace. Between Miguel and the vibrator he held onto your clit/tip you felt you could barely breath. It had been almost two whole hours and he still hadn’t let you cum yet. All over a little joke.

“Wanted to keep fucking around right, I told you the consequences but no you like to be a damn brat and couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. That’s alright you just need daddy to teach you how to be a good little slut and show you your fucking place.”

He bent down and leaned close to your ear

“And that’s right under me~”

[1800classiccherries]

Spider-cat!

⚘ Miguel x fem!reader

⚘ fluff

⚘ I don’t think there are any warnings?

⚘ summary: Y/n spends all her time with Spidercat, causing Miguel to feel little jelous.

⚘ wc: 960

“Sorry, Miguel, Spider-cat is back from a mission. Gotta go!” Y/n states, giving Miguel a quick peck on the cheek before swigging off the monitor platform and out of the room.

Recently Y/n had made a new friend amongst the spider crowd, Spider-cat, and this cat had her wrapped around his furry paw. Miguel sighs, not wanting to admit to himself that his girlfriend is spending more time with a cat than him and that he is jealous.

As Y/n roams around looking for her furry friend, she spots him down the hall, and she quickens her pace. “My baby!” she calls out, holding her arms open for the cat to jump into, “how was the mission?” Y/n inquires, getting a content meow in response. “I’m glad to hear it,” she nods, setting down Spider-cat so he can walk beside her.

~

Y/n and Spider-cat step out of the orange portal, now on Y/n’s earth. In their downtime, the two would go for swings around their Earths for as long as they could before having to go on a mission. Today was no different.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asks, looking down at the cat, who replies with a happy meow.

With that, the two swing off the fire escape they were previously on and begin their swing around the city. They were showing off their tricks and finding interesting new locations around the city. A while into their adventure, Y/n notices a hologram of a certain someone show up on her watch, causing her to pull over to the roof of the nearest building. Spider-cat follows suit, making himself comfortable, and begins making biscuits on Y/n’s lap once she sits down.

“Yes, Miguel?” she prompts, not too happy about her time with Spider-cat getting cut short.

“Are you busy?” Miguel asks, knowing she’s probably with the cat.

“Kinda off...” Y/n trails off, holding Spider-cat up for him to see. 

“I-” he starts, almost at a loss for words, “I’ll just get someone else to do it.”

Before Y/n could even say anything, the hologram disappeared. With a sigh, she looks down at the cat, who’s looking back up at her. 

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” she gets a disappointed meow in response.

“Yeah, I wanted to keep swinging too. But I have to spend some time with my boyfriend now,” she explains, standing up and opening a portal for her and Spider-cat to go back to headquarters.

~

Now back at headquarters, Y/n makes her way to Miguel’s locations thinking as to how she can smooth things over. It’ll be fine; she says to herself as she arrives at the room.

“Heyy, spider-bae~,” Y/n says, dragging out her words as she walks toward the (painfully) slowly descending platform.

Miguel raises an eyebrow as he turns around to face Y/n, clearly unamused. She opens her mouth to defend herself but promptly stops. She opens her mouth once more to try again, but she stops. ”I have nothing to say.”

“Typical,” he deadpans, shaking his head and returning to his work.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she pouts, taking a little swing onto the platform to stand next to him.

Y/n tunnels her way under Miguel’s arm so that his arm is over her shoulder. She leans into him, looking up with apologetic eyes, hoping he looks down at her. 

“Y’know you my boo thang, right, Miguel?” she says with a slowly spreading smile.

“Boo thang?” Miguel repeats, slightly amused, looking at Y/n.

“You heard me.”

Y/n moves from under his arm to in front of him, taking hold of his hand and leaning slightly against the control panel under the monitors. Looking up at him with a look that says, ‘I’m sorry.’

“I’ve missed you, mi amor,” Miguel voices, resting a hand on the side of Y/n’s face.

Leaning into his touch, the corner of her lips turns up slightly, “I’m sorry about ditching you for spider-cat.”

Miguel shakes his head a bit, chuckling softly, “It’s not your fault; he is pretty cute.”

“Yeah, but you’re cuter,” Y/n flirts tilting her head.

“I don’t know how I feel about getting called cute...”

Thanks for reading!

[hanwiore]

dominant men who are super dominant and super whiney

Like actually pussydrunk.

Tells you to stop moving everytime his fat dick scrapes against all your sweet spots, hands on the back of your neck to push you in the pillows to quiet your complaints so his hips can slap faster against you ass all while he whines because his brain is filled with the thought of your tightness and wetness.

“H-ha shut t-that shit up. Unghhhh fuck, feel so good baby, nghh i-i can’t i-imma cum s-shit!” Hips moving sloppily, grinding in your juicy cunt harsher like he hated you.

[bibiwrld]

SIMILAR!|Miguel O’Hara

★ Miguel O’Hara x Black fem anti-hero! [OC]

★ Before reading: I don’t speak Spanish, sorry for any mistakes made.

—Synopsis: A new face suddenly arrives at Nueva York, working at Alchemax, catching Miguel O’Hara’s eye and helping the Spider Society with catching villains and anomalies..well sort of.

–one.

THIRD PERSON POV

Alchemax was better, much better than what it used to be. They were actually helping the city, not stealing and hiding things from the citizens.

Miguel O’Hara, Alchemax’s best geneticist sat behind his desk, typing up data from his last experiment. He couldn’t lie, this was stressing him out. A mysterious virus was infecting Nueva York like wild fire, and he’s spent sleepless nights looking for a cure. He even had to put Jessica in charge of the Spider Society because of how dedicated he was to his work.

He groaned, sitting back in his seat, eyeing the computer screen with intensity.

A knock on his door broke the stare. “Come in.”

“And this is Miguel O’Hara.” A male geneticist opened the door, revealing himself and a woman Miguel was not familiar with.

She stood at 5’5”, but her heels made her 5’10”. Her skin was deep brown, with a golden glow, her hair was long, black and coily, with a small streak of white in the center of her head, almost like a skunk.

She was attractive, very attractive.

“He’s who you’ll be working with. He’s head of the the Genetics Department.”

The woman took small steps into the lab, looking around with a smirk on her face.

Miguel had no idea what was going on, darting his tired eyes between the unknown woman and his colleague.

He saw Miguel’s confusion. “Didn’t you hear Miguel? We’ve provided you with a partner.”

Partner? He didn’t need a partner.

“Wrenley Myers.” She stood on the other side of his desk, her skirt hiking up underneath her long lab coat.

Her skirt was way too short and that top was rather thin.

Miguel’s eyes loomed over her.

“Pharmacologist, but I’m very skilled in other sciences.” Her voice was smooth. “Maybe better than you, but I hope we can get along.”

Who did she think she was?

Miguel didn’t respond, adjusting his glasses and continued typing on his computer.

She scoffed and strutted off. Who did he think he was?

Wrenley, now situated at her desk, that Miguel had no part in helping with, watched him running an experiment.

He didn’t ask for help, not once.

She got up, strutting towards him, heels clicking in a fast rhythm. Her eyes carefully watched what he was doing, then loomed over to papers he had on the table.

They were very important papers— every single experiment he’s ever done was on those papers.

She picked them up, scanning through them with a smirk on her face.

“Can you put those down?” Miguel asked calmly, inserting a substance into the petri dish.

She ignored him, flipping through the pages and chuckling.

Miguel grew irritated. He removed his goggles and whipped his head towards her. “What’s so funny?”

She rested his papers back down and look up at him with a cocky grin. “If you needed my help, you should’ve just asked, O’Hara. Everything on that paper is pure rubbish, clever, but rubbish.”

And with that, she looked at her watch, then strutted to her desk for her handbag, then walked pass Miguel, but not without saying something smart to him.

“It seems that I’m not needed here, it’s time to go home and I’ll take my leave first. Good luck in your research, O’ Hara.” Her pink plump lips gave him a taunting smile, and her fox like eyes squinted at him, before she left the lab.

Miguel clenched his jaw.

Who the fuck did she think she was?

“Miguel, your heart rating is spiking.” Lyla, his AI, appeared by his shoulder.

“Notify Jessica that I’ll be at HQ in 20 minutes.” Miguel walked to his desk.

“Okay.” She responded. “You know, she’s pretty.”

He shut down his computer. “Who?”

“Wrenley, your new partner.”

Miguel groaned. “She’s not my partner, she’s just a cocky little shit who bullshitted her way here.”

Lyla laughed. “You sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Whatever Miguel.” Her eyes rolled. “I counted 3 beauty spots on her face, on her chin, under her left and on her right cheek.”

Miguel looked at her oddly.

“She has a scar on the left side of her forehead, it doesn’t look self inflicted, and that white hair is a birthmar–”

“Can you stop talking about her?” He switched the lights off.

Lyla frowned, teleporting to Miguel’s side as he moved. “Why? You were looking at her a lot, I thought you liked h–”

“I do not like her, now stop.”

“You’re no fun.”

Next part: –two.

[kentosblkgf]

Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara

Cw: size kink, mask kink, masked sex, spit, reader doesn’t know it’s Miguel …picture taking?? and choking. One sentence in Spanish. You can obviously tell I got lazy I just wanted to post something really quick <333

You had decided to have a small get together at your house. Inviting a few known friends, ofc they invited more but you had told them to come masked. It was like a little mystery, you loved mysteries. You had already known who Peter was because of his loud rambling.

He was dressed as Leatherface. A bad one at that, he looked nothing like Leatherface, he was literally wearing the green trench jacket that he wears everywhere. It was horrible.

Everyone had revealed themselves. All except the Ghostface.

His build was strong, tough even. Looked like he was made out of solid iron. The way he stood had you hypnotized. His arms crossed against his protruding chest, head tilting to the side under his mask.

He was just too good to look at. His arms were just bulging with veins. It almost made you fantasize about them having you in a head lock.

You still didn’t know who it was, but jesus fucking Christ were they strong. The way he had his fist balled into your hair and both of his knees touching the wooden floor on each side of you almost made you die.

He was manhandling you so good. The way he fucked into you made you see stars, you were in such a heavy daze. you didn’t even see the flash of the picture he took.

His cock was so thick, your walls struggled to take him with each thrust. It was crazy how one could have so much power behind them. He was enjoying this all too well. Tightening his fist in your hair, pulling your head back and using his other hand to pull the bottom part of his mask up. Just enough for you to see his puckered lips. Your mouth opened like the greedy slut you were.

He spit into your mouth, it sounded so dirty. So, vile. He’s fucking you so so so good, covering up your moans with his huge hands.

The groans he’s letting out sound heavenly, his deep grunts making shivers go down your spine. You try to get him to sit up a little to lessen the pressure of his thrust he is just not letting up.

It feels too good for him to stop. He isn’t focused on your pleasure anymore, it’s all about him. The sound of his hips connecting with yours covered in your slickness is deafening, if anyone had walked by they would most definitely hear and know what was going on.

“Fuck.” It was small very faint, you wouldn’t even have been able to tell it was him if you weren’t the one getting their brains fucked out.

You heard it as clear as day, yet you still didn’t know who it was that was fucking you so good.

His hand started gripping your hair harder before moving it down to your throat squeezing it softly. You feel a slight tug on your costume, He’s ripping the top part open and gripping a hand full of your tits.

You felt disgusted as he laughed when drool started running down the side of your mouth.

“Please please please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore. He starts to slow down his thrusts and grips your side before flipping you over onto your back.

You could see his build so much better. His neck dripping with sweat.

His whole hand covered you face as he pushed you more into the floor, making your head turn to the side. Your face smushed into the floorboards.

Everything was feeling so good. Pink lips peaking from under his mask.

“No.” Just a small grunt

You wanted to see his face so bad. It was painful not really. You were squirming under his weight, his heavy large palms practically suffocating you.

“F-fuck, hold on just g-give me-.”

You could barely breathe, barely even speak because of the way he was practically pounding you into the wooded floor. His thrusts so heavy and full of vigor.

Tears forming at your eyes, you can feel yourself about to cum you just need.. you just need

“P-please slow,”

Your words are so slurred it sounds like you’re drunk. He’s not even letting up, not a bit. He’s too heavy, you’re gonna make a mess it’s not like you didn’t try to warn him. You begged him to slow down.

White noise is all you hear as he hits just the right spot

“Wait wait wait, p-please.”

Your hands bunching up next to your head, having nothing to grip onto for support. You can hear your mess splashing onto the wooden floor.

“So fuckin messy.”

He’s chuckling? He’s.. laughing.

Your pussy couldn’t even push him out with the force of your orgasm. He’s just too heavy and thick inside of you.

He’s heavy breathing in your ear, grunting and groan as he plows into you like he owns you. At this point he does. Fucking you like he’s possessed by something.

His thrusts become more sloppy as you can tell that he is nearing his end, he thighs smacking against the back of yours. His hips are stuttering debating if he wants to cum on you, or in you. He of course chooses the latter pushing so deep into you, you can feel and hear cogs falling out of your head and onto the floor.

He’s so deep, his thighs tensing as he releases inside of you.

Your cunt is just so warm why would he want to leave it? Well of course to see what he’s left behind. He slowly pulls out and the pearly beads of cum quickly follow, he’s using his thumb to spread you open as he watches your pussy clench around nothing.

“Absolutamente hermosa, nena.” (Absolutely beautiful, baby)

The voice. The slightest accent that you couldn’t hear before.

He pulls you so you’re face upwards and uses your hand to put you into a sitting position.

Just as you start to blink away the fucking he gave you. He’s pulling his mask off with a grin.

Miguel, your best friend.

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

[Is It Warm?]

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Reader

summary: A stressed-out man deserves a stress-free encounter.

content warning: another PWP but it actually has plot...I should stop calling these PWPs, an uncomfortable scene at the beginning that involves a form of harassment, 18+ so MDNI, body worship (m receiving), thorough body massages, freeform? pegging, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), cum as lube, creampie

word count: 4.6k, halfway proofread

a/n: This is partially a birthday gift to myself and partially a part of the array of fics I wanted to get out before October was over for like...an all-month birthday celebration? School is getting in my way and October is over today, so.....that plan is soiled. But still! Enjoy this!

Here’s the Part 1 of this story! It’s not necessary to read, but it’ll add a bit of context.

“Did you find it yet?”

“No, it’s still the same thing.”

You pout as Miguel digs further into bottom shelf, baskets rattling against him.

One of the stores you frequented was selling a new round of character-themed merchandise and, of course, they were quick to sell out.

This time around, Nueva York’s one and only Spider-Man’s suit would be worn by the different characters adorning the jars, cups, and blankets.

Nueva York’s one and only Spider-Man was also on all fours searching for the basket that your friend hid those multiple things in.

You had work in the morning, so you couldn’t camp outside and grab it as soon as the doors opened. You didn’t want to bother Miguel with something so small either.

However, he picked you up from work as a surprise with a bouquet of roses in one hand which led to the current predicament.

He saw how low the shelf was and didn’t want anyone to look under your skirt, so now you’re stuck staring at his ass filling out his jeans.

“Any warmer?” you ask.

“Maybe?” he mumbled, arch in his back deepening.

You fought the urge to rub your leg along the curve lest he bang his head and knock the entire shelf down. Instead, you folded your arms under your chest and shifted in your heels.

Since you ever so delicately brought him to new horizons, he’s been extra sensitive about your hands fondling that entire zone. He hasn’t really asked you to do it again.

It’s ok. He’s an extremely busy man and the last time, he was conked out and in a daze for a while.

Still, you were obsessed with how he looked from behind.

He starts to back up, pulling a woven basket out from behind the others. He places it on the ground. Once it’s opened, it’s as if the colorful world of cute, lovingly drawn characters was brought to you.

You clap your hands in excitement as Miguel stands up and places the basket in the small cart you’ve been pushing.

“The things I do for my girlfriend,” Miguel sighs as he dusts off his knees.

You wait until he stands straight and pull your arms around his neck to plead for a kiss. He pecks them twice and rubs your waist.

“Thank you, boyfriend,” you whisper with a smile.

Miguel purses his lips and nods, bashful.

You turn and drag the cart down the aisle, Miguel following behind with his warm hand nearly folded over your hips. You hum and comment about the things that you see, turning to look at him with big eyes when you really wanted something.

He’d give the occasional “You don’t need that,” but then there were the silent head-tilts when you described the use of a product so energetically.

“But baby, we could cuddle under this when we watch our shows! And these,” you pointed to some snail mucin you found, “we have to have this for our spa days.”

“That’s,” Miguel folded his arms, “correct. We need to keep our skin clear. And we need to keep warm.”

Errand days always turned to you to Miguel pulling items down and convincing you to get things that you didn’t need but absolutely wanted.

“What about this?” Miguel takes a bra from the rack, head turned toward the piece but eyes looking over at you.

“It’s cute, but I think I could find a cuter one somewhere else.”

“You’re right. I’ll just rip it off.”

“On second thought, add it to the cart.”

It’s about an hour before you both make it to the line for the register.

You’re trying not to add to the “annoying couple” demographic, but Miguel’s arms are holding onto the cart, enveloping you against his chest. You turn and look up at him and smile, giddy that he joined you on this errand run.

He kisses your head and hums along to the song playing through the store speakers. You lay on his chest and read along the products on the shelves next to you.

A man peeks at you over the shelf, eyes cutting into you before he smirks and walks away.

You shudder like you’re cold and make a disgusted sound before you turn your head.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel asks, guiding you and the cart further in line.

“Creepy guy,” you mumble into his chest.

Miguel frowns and turns, squinting around the store. He was definitely hiding now.

“I’ll handle it,” Miguel grunts.

You stay silent, knowing that once he’s set to do something, he won’t change his mind.

One day he quietly asked you “What use would having a boyfriend with superhuman powers be if I don’t use them to protect you?”

You’ve long stopped telling him to ignore things like this.

Another inch further in line and it’s almost time to pay. The guy lingers again by the entrance of the store. You lean your weight on Miguel, feet tired of your heels and anxious of how the next few minutes could play out.

Trying to understand his motive was nearly impossible: you were clearly with someone else with a large physique, clinging to him like a lifeline. That should have been a huge hint.

When it’s time to place your items on the counter, Miguel shifts his body so you don’t see the stranger. The two of you work chat to the cashier, joking about the many things you’ve bought.

With swift movements, Miguel pays for your items and carries your bag before you can even think to pay. He turns and waits for you to lock your arms through his, a habit grown from his need to be near you.

The entrance was empty, other people scattered throughout the store.

Maybe it was just a strange incident.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you mind helping me with something?” the guy asks behind you just when you think you’re in the clear.

“She’s good,” Miguel tells him, face stern.

“What, so she can’t answer for herself?”

You ball a fist up around the back of Miguel’s shirt, steadying yourself, “I can answer for myself, but we’re in a bit of a hurry. So, if you don’t mind, we’ll be out of-“

“I-It’s just that my daughter’s birthday is coming up,” the man holds his hands up frantically. “I have no clue what 10-year-olds like nowadays. I was wondering if you could help me choose something.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. This guy could be lying completely, but the thought of a little girl out there smiling as she ripped the paper off a present tugged at you.

Looking at Miguel, you could tell he was on the same wavelength.

“There is one thing that’s all the craze,” you say.

Back in the store, you were sifting through the aisles again with your attentive boyfriend not too far behind. He was carrying all of your bags in his hands and on his shoulders so you could really make an honest effort to help.

Ten was that turning point where you either really loved imaginary toys or wanted nothing to do with then, perhaps a mix of both.

“She used to love these when she was younger,” the man pulls out a baby doll from the lower shelf.

There’s been about five things he’s mentioned all of which were geared towards a younger audience. He was so insistent that it made you wonder of he’s even talked with his daughter in the past five years.

“I’m not sure she would like this one. What about that?” you point to a popular plushie. It’s not the baby doll, but you’re sure his daughter would love it.

“Oh I don’t know…”

This back-and-forth continues for longer than you want it to. You could have been wrapped around your boyfriend like a koala while he talked about his day and instead you were stuck here.

“Sir, we really have to go,” Miguel intervenes, “I’m sure whatever you get your daughter, she’ll love it.”

The older man sneers, “You wouldn’t know a thing about that.”

“Excuse me?” your face changes, disturbed.

“Such a beautiful thing on his arm and no ring, no child. He’s slacking up,” he slides a hand down your arm. “My daughter could use someone like you-“

Miguel snatches his hand up from your arm, eyes almost glowing under the bright lights of the store.

“Are you insane?”

“Let go of me!”

The man tries to fight against Miguel but falls short as he keeps his cool. He’s only released when his body flashes in an array of blue and pink squares, knees hitting the ground.

Faster than you can comprehend what’s going on, Miguel drags him out of the door. You follow afterwards, apologetic to the confused employees.

“Do you just like to touch women for fun or is it exclusive to people that try to help you?” you can hear Miguel bark at him.

“I’ll have you reported to the authorities!”

“Yeah, yeah. Try and call the rent-a-cops,” Miguel’s lip never unfurled. He whipped out a phone. “Lyla?”

In a series of events, you watched the man go from Miguel’s grip to the stringy webs of Spider Scarlet.

“I see that this fellow is giving you trouble and sorrow,” Ben’s stunted tone crowded the stranger’s cries. “I’ll remove him quickly, no, swiftly. So that you both can have a wonderful night. Together.”

You can almost see the tension build in Miguel’s temple.

“Thank you. It’s much appreciated,” Miguel grunts. “I would like to move on with my night, please.”

“Of course, Bo- I mean hard-working citizen.”

He grabs the glitching stranger to swing back to HQ, a quiet wave to you before he left.

You laugh, feeling Miguel’s shoulders fall a bit.

“You ok, baby?” he takes your hands in his, bags lining his arms,

You nod your head, “I’ve had worst things happen. Could use some comfort, though.”

He gives a sympathetic smile and rubs a thumb across your cheek.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Small, pesky incidents like this kept popping up.

An occurrence of a clown that stood in the gray parks holding a single balloon but doing nothing else, women with pixie cuts complaining about the prices of clothes, balding men with beer bellies and baseball caps: all of these people from different eras were spread across Nueva York.

While you’ve been going into work, keeping your schedule relatively normal, Miguel has been in and out.

It wasn’t a rare sight to come home to his empty penthouse, only the city lights and a talkative Lyla to keep you company.

Sometimes, you were woken up by his arms sliding around your middle and a kiss to the back of your neck, but by the time you woke up, he was gone again.

The life of a superhero’s girlfriend was a bit isolating, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Especially not the shocked look on Miguel’s face as he enters the living room one evening.

“What’s all this?” he asks, looking at the dimly lit lights and taking in the smell of something sweet in the air.

Music is playing from the speakers and Miguel is noticing how smooth the skin of your legs look from in between your silk gown. Taking advantage of his focus, you bend and remove the cloth from the table behind you.

“Ta-da!”

You stand there with your hands out, shaking them. It takes a lot to not jump like a star in excitement.

Miguel looks from you to the table.

“What is it?”

“What does it look like?”

“I meant, what is it for, honey.”

You lean on the massage table with your hip and hold your fingers up to count off, “Well, it’s for you. To relax. To unwind. To let me try out the skills I learned from that class my coworker gifted to me.”

Within the pause, you twirl four fingers in the air.

Miguel sits near the back on the couch with an exhausted look on his face, “Baby, thank you for the gesture, but I don’t know if-”

“Please! I think you’ll really, really love it. I can massage you right now while you’re not super busy,” you say as Miguel stands again. You bounce over in front of him, puppy-dog eyes on full display. “I only rented it for a few days!”

He looked to the ceiling and sighed, weak to the look on your face.

“Fine.”

“Where is your robe at?” a freshly showered Miguel asks with an eyebrow raised. He still pans up and down your body, like he hasn’t explored it a million times over.

A few steps forward and his gaze is stuck on the way your sheer and short gown molds around your body.

There’s nothing underneath but your perfumed skin.

“That’s the perk of having your girlfriend give you a massage,” you say watching him stare at your chest. You take his chin in your hand and guide his face back to your eyes. “Right?”

“Mm hm.”

You snort and tell him to lay down

“Take your towel off, silly.”

Miguel obeys, white fabric pulled from under him with a blink of an eye. He lays it just above his behind.

“This is going to feel so good. I just know it,” you say, giving his back a light rub.

“Thank you in advance,” Miguel replies. He’s lying with his head on his arms, stress from work evident.

You’re really glad he’s letting you help him indulge in this break.

Grabbing the oil from the end table you pulled over, you pour some right on his back, fingers spreading along the pivots of his neck. You. stand in front of the head of the table and press your thumbs into his nape, earning a stunted noise from him.

A smile grows on your face, “I haven’t even really started, Miguel.” Your thumbs start to circle and he turns his face into the open hole.

“Stiff there. Too many screens to watch,” he says. “It smells good.”

“Give those pretty eyes a rest then,” you tut, adding your other fingers to the ones along his neck in an upwards motion.

Shea butter never fails you.

His neck slowly heats up and you giggle to yourself. One compliment and he turned into mush.

“What about here, hm?” shifting down to the tops of his shoulders. The muscles there pulled as tight as a rope. Adding pressure to them makes Miguel groan.

“’S good.”

“I bet,” you work into a knot, warm hands pushing into his skin. “There’s no telling how long this has been here.”

Miguel silently notes that maybe he should wind himself up more if he could end up like this again: pampered by his pretty girlfriend.

As quiet as he kept his running thoughts, his throat involuntary gave you real-time reviews.

Every slide of your knuckles nearly had him purring and your fingertips warmed him through to his bones.

His shoulders feel like air once you’re moving down his spine.

“I’m going to do something different,” your voice is lower so as to not disturb the atmosphere.

You hike one of your knees up on the edge of the table and climb over him, hovering as you asses his back.

Two hands cover his waist with thumbs almost touching each other on his spine. You let go of some of your weight and press your thumbs up his back.

Miguel’s voice vibrates through the room, an arch in his spine forming.

You repeat the action, earning an even louder response.

Moving to stroking in outwards motions from his spine to the sides, you wanted to pat yourself on the back. Miguel was so relaxed under you.

Though, you wanted to smack yourself for getting excited so early, the effect of his sounds making itself evident with how cold the air felt on your exposed lower half.

Switching to move your hands down his arms to hefty muscle of his shoulder blades, you hoped to distract yourself.

“Se siente tan bien,” Miguel sighed, airy and relieved. “I’ve been climbing a lot more this past week.” (That feels so good.)

The praise went straight to your clit.

“I’m glad, Miggy. I’ll work out some more tightness in your back and move down to your legs. Sound good?” you were trying your best to control your tone.

Miguel starts to answer but a stunted sound comes from his lips instead as you start to knead his back in small places.

Back and forth, you move across his skin, heart thumping in your chest.

By the time you got to his lower back, you awkwardly sat on the towel separating the two of you. You were sure it was dampening, but you hoped Miguel was too far gone to notice.

Your thumbs circle in the dips of his skin, his hips lifting up, making you brace yourself.

“Babe, you’re going to push me off,” you say as Miguel tries to glue his waist to your fingers.

“S-sorry,” hips stutter against the table before he lays down completely.

You pat his side as a form of forgiveness and inch off of the table. The towel over his ass was wrinkled, brown skin peeking from under it.

You grab more oil to start on the back of his thighs, a place that you know could carry his tension. With both of your hands focusing on his right thigh, you add pressure to your palms.

Miguel immediately jerked, grunting through his teeth.

“Woah, there,” you rub his leg softly. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

He’s softly pushing out air as you continue back.

“It’s embarrassing. And rude,” he mumbles after a while.

You move down to his calf, his voice rising as you envelop his skin.

“What is?”

He huffs, turning his head, “I’m hard.”

Switching legs, you try not to show your giddiness.

“Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s a normal reaction.”

“Is it?” he shifts again when you massage the inside of his thigh, so close to the problem area. “The last time I got massaged was before…everything. It was never like this.”

You try to envision a younger, scrawny Miguel laid out on the table before you and giggle.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not,” you say in between a quiet grin.

Miguel lifts his head a bit, “I can hear you smiling, amor.”

“Ok, how about this,” you remove the towel and softly cover his behind with your hands. “Can I massage here?”

Miguel looks back at you, eyes darker under these lights.

“Isn’t this a full-body massage?”

You bite your cheek to try and stop your face from lighting up, but it fails.

“Then, continue to relax, Mr. Spider-Man.”

“I prefer Mr. Boyfriend, actually.”

Humming, you push into the plushest parts of him, repeating the motion circle after circle.

You try to ignore his hole peering out every time you knead.

Miguel is breathing deeply, back rising and falling.

Looking down, you can tell that his earlier words were true. Poor thing was barely rutting against the table.

You slide a thumb on his taint, marveling at how he lets out a sharp gasp. The feeling makes him grind harder into the soft material.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Please, what, Mr. Boyfriend? Anything I can do to make your experience better?”

“I want,” you brush your finger over his hole and he groans. “Want more.”

You stop and grab the lone tile, wiping the oil from your hands.

Walking near his face, you lean down and kiss his ear, the skin heated, “This requires more facilities. One momento!”

Luckily for him, the dildo from the last time was already clean.

Coincidentally.

You grab it and some lube from the bedroom and rush back to Miguel who is sprawled out on the table.

“Sorry for the wait,” you say. “Let’s start back.”

With lube on your fingers, you rub a thumb over his hole, pressing until you breach past.

Miguel sighs, “Shock. I missed this.”

That surprises you, “Really?”

“Yes,” he moaned as you reach in further. “You make me feel good. I just didn’t have the time to enjoy it.”

Your heart soars, switching from your thumb to two fingers. The way his hips rise shows a beautiful line in his silhouette. When tell him such, he shudders.

“You always compliment me on the things I couldn’t care less for.”

“There’s beauty in all of you though, Miguel,” your words contrast how you’re digging into him, adding another finger and brushing past the ball of fire.

Miguel tightens his fists, pushing back against your hand, “Put it in me.”

“Do you like it when I praise you?” you ask, ignoring his request.

“You already know the answer. Por favor, bebé.”

He was getting whiny and you remembered that this whole endeavor was supposed to be for him, about him.

You climbed back over him, a palm pressed into his back, “I know, I know. I got you.”

“So needy,” you say as you lube up the pink plastic.

Miguel gears up to respond but you shush him when you glide the tip in.

Your name is on his lips, singing along with the melody of the instrumental playing in the background.

You pull your gown up a little, fur on the trim riding up your skin. You moan with him as you let the dildo go deeper.

From here, you can see the glow of his back, glistening under the candlelight from the oil that drives him crazy on you. The nape of his neck is starting to shine with sweat and his fingers are pressing into his palm so as to not puncture the table.

Continuing your movement, you move your wrist continuously, pushing into him and cupping your breasts to stop them from moving.

You’re drenched and when you slide your heat over his cheeks, the end of the dildo feels amazing against your clit. You hold the end of it close and move your hips along every thrust.

“Keep going,” Miguel says, reveling in the way you were getting off on top of him. “Don’t stop.”

Your hips move faster, hand on your chest moving to his back, nails digging into his skin. Your body leans over him, skin-to-skin separated by your thin gown.

No words can be formed as you listen to Miguel let out satisfied grunts, the sound of him covering and uncovering the dildo aligning with him.

You angle it so that it can slide along your folds before it enters him, keening into his skin every time.

“I love you so much, Miggy,” your nails scratch against him, your body tensing like he was the one pinning you into the table.

Miguel jerks, panting out, “Love you, too. Te amo mucho, ángel.”

You continue, Miguel’s words blending from begs for more to confessions of love.

When he reveals that he’s close, arching into you, you suck a kiss into his back, working your dildo past his prostate.

He groans, cum spreading under him. You pepper kisses across his back.

“Hm,” you got up and switch the dildo for a plug, squeezing a cheek for good luck. “I didn’t finish the massage.”

Miguel turns his body around, careful not to knock you off.

“You’re always up to something.”

He smiled, looking at your ruined gown, oil making it cling to you. He’s still hard, cum smeared across his lower abdomen.

You bring your face to his, kissing his lips while his hands slide up your hips.

“I’m just a little crazy when it comes to you,” you reply, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

Miguel moves his chin up, a hand coming to cover your neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You smiled into his lips, rubbing your nose against his. He laughed at the gesture and rubbed down your back.

“Shall I continue, Mr. Boyfriend?”

“I’m at your command, Ms. Girlfriend.”

You lean up and slowly pull your gown off of you. Miguel watches you, not missing a single moment.

“While I did have ideas of exactly how this massage was going to go,” you reach back and scoop up the milky liquid on his stomach. You take him in your hand and pump once, twice. “I think I’ll end it with a bang.”

When his tip goes past your entrance, his eyes roll back and his hands grab your hips instinctively.

Your head dips past your shoulders as you sit further, the feeling of him familiar but still overwhelming.

Your hips stutter as you try not to let the greedy feeling of chasing your orgasm come back so quickly. To fight it, you place your hands on his pecs.

“Usually, the chest massage is done in the opposite direction,” Miguel hikes his hips up as you try to get back into masseur mode, earning a high moan from you. “B-but you get special privileges today.”

You focus on applying pressure to his collar bones, working over a fading love mark.

Miguel isn’t having it as he holds your hips and snaps up.

“I think I have a more severe problem area,” he says as you push the skin of his chest towards his armpits. He wasn’t even tense there.

“And I’ll get to it-“

“You don’t understand,” Miguel says, locking his arms around you. “It’s serious.”

He thrusts up, delving into you like he was always meant to do so. You grip his shoulders and hold on, mind hazy at the shift.

“The prettiest masseuse in the world,” he breathes out. His eyebrows are scrunching up, ever so expressive. “My private one.”

“Yes,” you sigh, close from before. You’re turning into putty in his arms.

Arousal builds as he continues to work into you. Your mouth parts, unsure as to what was coming from your mouth.

“C’mon, baby. I know you’re there,” Miguel moves one hand to grip your shoulder. “‘M ready to pay you.”

You convulse around him, core swimming with his words.

He follows right after, hips attaching to you as he fills you up. The table creaks as he pumps a few more times into your lifted body.

When you both come down, your muscles feel like they’ve been reconstructed. Miguel lifts you off of his length, keeping you in the air for a bit just to watch him drip out of you.

“That’s a pretty steep payment,” you say once you’re lying on his chest.

Miguel snickers, “I’ll help you manage it later.”

“But before that,” you wave a hand in the air making a holographic screen with blue squares appear before you both. “Leave a tip?”

Miguel wipes it away as you cackle.

“You’ve ruined me for all future massages in a normal setting and you want a tip?”

“I’m just kidding,” you kiss his pout away.

“Besides,” you reach down and graze your fingers over him. “This tip is pretty good.”

“Only ‘pretty good’? Do you need another one?”

You put your eyes to the sky, thinking, “Let’s eat dinner and get away from the nearly ruined, rented table first.”

Miguel smiles softly, “Good idea.”

dividers by: @/adornedwithlight @/inklore

a/n: I think I would like to consider this story, Is It Tight?, and Wash Day all in the same universe.

Sorry to the people in my taglist who don’t really rock with pegging. It probably won’t happen again. 😭

taglist: @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003 @slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern

@tatatida @haveclayeveryday @corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae

@maiyart @feegrh32 @darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vmpz8sauceee

@leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @madeofstar-dust @leoeloo @just-simpins-blog

@poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhideout @aly29a2001 @mimi-sanisanidiot

@tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @av3da @prettygirleli @koikohib

@jaykookies @snails-doodles22 @xo-zeze @plantxella @thedevax

@f1-hoff @stressed-cherry @mozzella @appledressing @abbbbbysvt-17

@woahhajime @vicravluv @xodeity @somniasworld @obsessgurlll

@starboygf @undf-stuff @bmoplanet @alexxavicry @ladysimp

[s-sugustar]

Drown me in your tears, kiss my bloody lips —

ℳ．𝖮’𝖧𝖺𝗋𝖺

{ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 } : dark, dub-con, aphrodistic, stalking, peeping tom, yandere!miguel o’hara, miguel is a total pervert, not proofread!

{𝐰𝐜} : 4.3k

At the age of 15, you saved shops from being destroyed, catching culprits and webbing them to the wall for the police to throw in jail. You were having fun, you enjoyed being your friendly neighbourhood spider woman. At the age of 19, you told your mother who you were. At the age of 23, you lost her. 

There was some villain attack, an army of four men, with weapons holding some extra-terrestrial energy. Their leader, the Falcon, a man with metal wings caused terror throughout the city. Two buildings started to collapse, and time wasn’t really on your side; so, with all that you had in you, you pushed past everything and swung through the air, wind rushing past you as you webbed others to safety.  You were jumping from two buildings, webbing people to safety, and pulling others out of the way from falling objects. 

Until you heard a scream, you swiftly looked to where the scream came from. A woman falling from a building and not just any random woman. The bright yellow coat, with black polka dots, gave her away; but it could’ve been anyone with a bright yellow coat with black polka dots. Yet, her screaming didn’t stop and the low rasp from her yelling shot adrenaline through you.

You heard that voice before, when your father had been around, it was late in their marriage but it was still there. Day and night, their voices raised through the roof. Often you hid in the closet, fearing that the yelling would take another turn. Fortunately, it never did, but the arguments did leave an imprint on you as a small child. 

As you pushed off the street, soaring through the air, your hand outstretched towards her while the other angled towards a stable building to which your web shot towards her. You called out to her, hand outstretched as you were so close to grabbing ahold of her.

“MA!” you yelled, immediately diving for her, a web shot out towards her. The ground seemed closer, a bit too close so you pushed yourself just a little bit more. Everything around you slowed as your mother reached out to you, eyes filled with tears. The web reached but she had already touched the floor, her body bouncing back up from the impact. 

“No.” you landed next to her, hands trembling as you moved the hair from her face. You pulled the mask away from your face, as it felt suffocating to be in. “Ma?” you shook her, eyes not believing that she was gone. “Mom, come on. Wake up.” You shook her again, your fingers finding her wrist to feel for a pulse but there was none. The weather had a weird connection to how we feel at this moment, as your tears socked the red shirt of your mothers, so did the rain. 

It had been 4 years since your mother passed and you were in your apartment with your cat, Cloud, relaxing on the couch as the TV played some sort of old cartoon you watched as a child. Suddenly, your hand stretched out to a vase that was nearby, webs latching onto the glass before pulling it back to you. Placing your cat quietly into the chair, you stalked towards your bedroom, after your spider senses went off.

Swiftly kicking the door open, you threw the vase without much aim, expecting to break on impact yet no breaking of glass was heard; just you with your hands webbed together with webs that were crimson red, a flow of electricity flowing through them. You look at both of the perpetrators, eyes squinted with your teeth sharp in the night light. 

“She’s got fangs just like you.” you heard, a woman’s voice to be exact. In all fairness, you barged into the room, not bothering to turn any lights on to startle the perpetrators but at this point, you realized it was needed. As you reached into the room, you patted the wall in search of the light switch, upon finding it, you flicked the switch on to reveal two people.

A very tall man with an abnormally slim waist that somehow complimented his broad shoulders and bright red irises that glowered down at you. The lady next to him was not as tall, although she had height, she was not as tall as the man next to her. What did shock you was not the eerily similar suits they had on but the fact that the woman had been pregnant. 

“Who are you?” you asked, standing firm as you looked up and down the two people who stood in front of you. You had no idea how they arrived here since, number one, your building was three stories up; but by the looks of their suits that were very similar to yours, they didn’t seem to have much of a problem for that aspect.

Number 2 was that, your windows were locked, well the one in your bedroom was, when you were at home. The much taller man spoke, “We need to talk to you.”

That discussion between you, Miguel and Jessica had been around 3 years ago. Around the same time they allowed you to work alongside the Spider Society. You had been curious about the Spider Society but you liked to work alone, another trait that Jessica teased you about, that both you and Miguel had in common; so you only joined 7 months after you were given the opportunity. The Spider Society wasn’t as bad as you thought it would’ve been.

Many of the spiders treated you well, Peter B and Jessica were the ones who you had been close with you. In many of the missions you had, you were either with Peter B or Jessica, to your contentment. You were close to Gwen and Hobbie, the two growing on you after Peter B and Jessica: the feeling of younger siblings to you.

One thing you all had in common was that you all lost someone close. It seemed to be ‘the canon event’ that all spiders had to go through; not a pleasant thing to experience. 

Miguel O’Hara. A stoic man with no emotion shown on his face, other than irritation. The relationship you had with Miguel wasn’t to a title of some sort. You acknowledged each other, he praised you for your efficiency and work and you respected him. Although some of his values were questionable you kept those questions to yourself.

You hardly ever had missions with him but when you did, they were quick with little to no words spoken between the two of you. He gave you an order and you followed, no buts, no ifs or maybes; not that he would hear you voice. 

At this time, you were called in to go on a mission with Miguel; neither Peter B nor Jessica had been available so you were the next best option. On this particular mission, the anomaly had more power and endurance than all the others, you encountered and it was also much stronger than Miguel anticipated, making this job go on a bit longer than necessary which caused Miguel to be more irritated than usual.

"On my call, you go from behind, Do you understand me?" Miguel declared, moving his neck from side to side to relieve the tension that had been stuck within it. You grunted in response, ready to get this mission over with so you could go back home and spend some time with the Persian cat you named Cloud. You were perched on top of a roof, lying in wait for Miguel's signal.

Although quite close to the fight, you weren't exactly able to see Miguel and the anomaly, so you webbed over to another building where just as you looked down, you saw that damage that had been done, not only to both Miguel and the anomaly but to the city as well.

Though it wasn't your concern, you still felt bad for the people who lived on this earth. Your focus on the damage to the city was pulled away when you saw the said anomaly smash Miguel into a nearby building.

"Miguel!" you scrambled out, unsure of his current state; still perched on top of the building but unfortunately God hadn't been on your side today. Upon calling out to Miguel, the said anomaly snapped its head to where you were, a snarl forming on its lips as it stood from its place before shooting up, barreling towards your figure. "Shit." you moved from your position, dodging oncoming attacks from the anomaly.

You hadn't seen when Miguel returned to the fight but one thing you did notice was that he wasn't himself. That meant he was more ferocious than normal. His eyes were darker than usual, you were no longer able to see his irises; everything was covered in red.

The fangs were no different to the menacing look he had in his eyes. They seemed sharper, pointer and the tip and the snarling that fell from his lips seemed way more sinister.You had no idea what had happened to him, but you knew that he wasn't himself.

The fight was long and tasking but you two were able to fight the anomaly off before imprisoning it and sending it back to HQ. Miguel stood in front of Jess who had a strong hold on the anomaly. The conversation went unheard to you as you observed Miguel's behaviour. Gruff, hunched over, stiff and stoic, although it was the usual, it seemed more rushed as if he was in some sort of hurry.

After his conversation with Jess, you walked over to where he stood, your body facing his as you took in his features, head tilting slowly as you looked up to him. His breathing was shallow, fists tightly closed, you swore you saw some bit of blood dripping from his hands. You looked back up to him, locking eyes in the process before he turned away, stopping you from looking at him.

"Go home," he said, a second passed by before he continued. "I'll finish up here." It sounded forced but you didn't pry. "You alright?" you asked, taking light steps towards the man.

To which were stopped, when a low growl emitted from him. you asked again, "Miguel, what did that anomaly do to you?" He whispered something under his breath, the first few words you weren't able to catch but the last few you barely caught. ".... you need to leave." He started to walk away but you insisted on staying; you wanted to figure out what was happening with him.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what it did to you, maybe I can help y-" You weren't able to continue talking when Miguel spun around, nose flared and claws showing. His canines were longer, dripping with drool as he stalked towards you.

To say you were scared was an understatement. You had seen the way he dealt with Miles a few months back and you wished that you were never on the receiving side of things, but God wasn’t on your side once again. The grabbing of your jaw wasn't what startled you but it was his claws that sunk into the fat of your jaws causing you to wince.

You wouldn't be surprised if a little bit of blood had started to ooze from within. Once Miguel saw that his grip on you was way too harsh, he pulled away.

A sour look on his face as he turned away from you. A sigh fell from his lips, he truly didn't want your help with his 'problem' but knew you would pester him until he broke so he decided to speak. "It's some sort of substance under the anomaly's claws, it caught me by the rib and it's uh-. You know how I'm different to all the spiders, yes?" The topic being switched didn't go unnoticed by you, but you kept quiet; nodding in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

"Whatever it is, it has affected my body, causing me to go into pre-rut." He trailed off, clearly not wanting you to hear the ending but you caught on; much to his dismay.

It was quiet for a while, Miguel felt ashamed, and you were unsure as to how to feel. "Oh." The only word you could formulate at that moment. He knew you wouldn't have taken what he said, plain as day and he knew rejection was close and, on the rise, so in hopes of keeping his peace, he mentally prepared himself for you to either be disgusted or to simply walk away. While Miguel felt this way, you on the other hand, had been mentally weighing the pros and cons of A, leaving him, B, calling for back up or, C, letting him take his anger out on you in his moment of weakness. 

You weren't sure as to what would happen after if you chose A, B or C but one thing was for certain, if you chose C, the dynamic between the two of you would change drastically. Whether you both pay attention to it or not. But you wanted to him help and not from the point of view that you could say you had sex with him but so that he wouldn't have to go back and find some random woman to take his anger out on.

After a few moments of internally weighing the pros and cons of all three, you quietly made your decision. "I can help you," you spoke rather confident with your decision. Miguel on the other hand, wasn't so pleased. "No no, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, hand pinching the crease between his eyebrows; he was stressed. It was an odd little thing you picked up on from time to time. You still stood your ground, not bothering to listen to his worries or reasons.

Once he saw your posture, he knew you had no plans of leaving just yet. "Y/n, I'm not myself when it happens, I don't know what will happen to you if I let you do this." You lightly shrugged, not necessarily caring about what the outcomes were; you just knew you couldn’t let him go back to headquarters right now. “I’m not taking no for an answer so let’s go back to my place.” You slowly coaxed the stressed man into going back to your earth. Once you made it back, the both of you swung into your apartment via a window that you normally keep open for when you are on Spider woman duties. 

Miguel took note of such but said nothing. Making it into the bedroom was the easiest part but the tension that came after was unnerving. You were about to break the silence but Miguel, strangely enough, was quick to speak, immediately shutting you up. “Don’t talk,” he murmured, his lips flush against yours, his hands groping the flesh of your hips.

You whined against his lips, hands flat against his chest as he pushed you back to the end of your bed. “Off. Take everything off.” Miguel pleaded, struggling against the burning pit that was brewing in his stomach. You hurriedly took off your suit, and as soon as your shoes were off, your back was met with the sheets of your bed. 

Miguel paused as he looked down at you, his eyes were no longer chocolate brown but a deep crimson red, peering into your soul. His stare was unnerving, chills running down the back of your spine and your stomach churning; it was like an unsaid command, you couldn’t look away, for you thought it felt foreign. The stare-down the two of you had didn’t last long as Miguel pushed you right against the headboard, both hands pulling part of your thighs as he leveled himself with your pussy.

He looked down at your panties, not bothering about the wet spot that had been there before he ripped them off. “Hey, those were my favourite,” you whined, causing him to blast a web against your mouth and hands. “Quiet,” he ordered, his eyes shifting from yours back to your pussy. 

The amount of restraint that forced Miguel not to pounce on you as hard as it was already but he hadn’t put into thought the amount of aphrodisiac that the anomaly would’ve used. The moment he had gripped your jaw, he could smell the desire that reeked from your body. It was disgusting but not hard for him to fall for and relish. Without anyone stopping him, he could finally take what is rightfully his, what was always rightfully his.

His nose bumped against your clit as his tongue slipped inside of you, eyes closing in peace as he heard the muffled moans that fell from your lips. Desire ran through his body as he continued to lap up your juices, one hand gripping tightly onto the side of your thigh while the other rubbed circles against your clit. 

If that was enough for you, his fangs grazing against your lips caused a tingling sensation to bubble within your stomach. You needed something to hold onto or to grab but with your hands bound, you couldn’t do much other than to wrap your legs around Miguel’s neck, evidently pushing the man further into you.

The feeling was too good, your mind started to fog, too caught up in the pleasure that you were receiving. Miguel could smell that you were close, the way your eyes squeezed shut, tighter than they already were;  your legs tightening their hold on his neck, and the sultry way you moved on the body. 

“Mi-Miggy. Need more,” you whined, tears forming at the sides of your eyes as you looked down at him; his ruby eyes piercing yours. Although the webbing muffled your words, because of the aphrodisiac, his senses had increased somewhat. To him, it seemed like you were begging for it. But, you weren’t going to get what you wanted just yet.

Miguel pulled away with a pop, saliva dripping down his chin as he came back up. A cry left your lips at the sudden movement, causing the man above you to smile. Your pussy had been puffy with your clit swollen, a light flick to your clit caused you to cry out. Shaking his head, Miguel pulled down his boxers, exposing the tip of it to you. It was pink and swollen, pre cum dripping from the tip. 

With one hand, he held one of your thighs in the air so that he could have better access. God, did he struggle; the way both his cum and your juices were pooling out onto the bed and he hadn’t even put it inside you. How he had webbed your mouth shut but still wanted to hear you scream. It surely was conflicting.

Yet you were here, whining and crying over two of his fingers and his tongue. How pathetic. Lining up with your entrance, he pushed into you slowly, still aware that you may be a bit sensitive from before. This time, he pulled the webbing from off your mouth, he wanted to hear you. Better yet, he needed to hear you. 

His teeth snagged away at the flesh of his bottom lip, causing blood to seep through.  Your back arched at the stretch, not feeling much in ages. Now, the stretch wasn’t what had concerned you, to be far it felt good but it was the coldness from his dick or at the sides of them that make you ponder; only coming to the realisation of what it could truly be.

“Miguel, do you have a Jacob’s Ladder?” you gasped, feeling the metal rub against your insides. Miguel was silent, pausing in slight shock at your question. He looked away from you, slightly embarrassed, “Got in college when I was younger.” He admitted, causing you to giggle at his embarrassment. He growled in return, “Let’s not forget where you are right now, yea?” 

“Or what Miguel?” You snipped, a smirk bright on your face as you stared back up at the man. To your surprise, he smirked back at you, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “Keep that same energy princess,” he replied, no longer keeping eye contact with you as his eyes drifted to where the two of you were connected.

You were about to put in another snide remark when Miguel’s thumb found your mouth, his finger shoved inside as he gave you a look. “Suck.” You did as you were told, letting your tongue explore all around his finger. 

“Do they bother you? The piercings I mean?” he asked, with one hand on your jaw whilst the other traced your hips. You shook your head, still sucking on his thumb that had been in your mouth for quite some time. Determining that his finger was wet enough, he pulled away from your lips, wiping away the drool that fell from your mouth.

“Good,” he murmured, hands gripping onto your hips as he thrusts inside of you. You cried out, not expecting the stretch from him. Your hands found his biceps, pleasure spreading all over you as you squeezed his flesh, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had crescent-shaped marks in his skin. 

“Ay. You feel good y’know that?” Miguel asked, hips adjusting to thrust deeper; his hand finding its way alongside your jaw before gripping at your throat. Not hard enough to stop your airflow but just enough pressure to make you whine in desperation. Miguel tried hard enough not to sink his teeth into you; his fangs had already been lowered, teeth glowering in the night light, eyes ruby red as he stared down at you.

Unfortunately, enough for you, tears clouded your vision, so you weren’t able to see Miguel’s eyes glow red or the cloud-nine feeling that you were currently experiencing to feel the way he gripped your waist a tad bit tighter than before. 

To say the least, you were far gone in pleasure, head nowhere near the current situation. Miguel on the other hand, was not so well. Just like you, he got a bit too caught up in pleasure, how warm you felt around him and the pleas and moans that fell from your lips didn’t help his case either. Miguel started to babble, words falling from the pitiful man’s lips; oh, did he start to spiral. “A-always knew y-you were gonna b-be good f’me.”

He uttered, eyes staring down hopelessly at you. Hips stuttered as he felt you tighten around him. You were close, he could smell it dripping off of you. Stuffing his nose deep into your shoulder blades didn’t soothe his overpowering need to fill you up. Your scent suffocated Miguel, his delusions pulling him deeper into the abyss of darkness. His mind is no longer in control of his movements, they now work on their own. Feeding into the massive hole that his heart created after his wife and daughter died.

It wasn’t right, they shouldn’t have died but canon was canon. Until his monitors picked up you on the servers. You weren’t a new spider since it took Miguel years to develop such software but the anomaly that entered your dimension brought up your earth on the monitors for the first time.

Locking in, Miguel watched, his eyes shifting over each computer as you fought off the anomaly, eyes never leaving your figure until the anomaly was down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Many days Miguel found himself focusing on your Earth or well more on you; your movements, your fighting style, the way you would nuzzle your nose against your cat’s fur early in the morning when you came back from your late shifts. 

The more he watched, the more obsessed he became. It wasn’t supposed to get this far, Miguel was supposed to watch you and how you work but he let his mind wander. He let his heartache again and his mind followed in pursuit. Miguel hated himself for the man he was becoming, a hopeless fool, wanting to nothing but security and peace. Someone to hold him late at night, kiss all his scars away and bear his children in years to come and you, you fit the profile.

You were everything that he needed and so much more. “A-all mine.” Miguel was down and under, suffocating from the spirals and delusions he suffered. His hips thrusted harder into you with every growing minute, fangs dripping with venom as his got closer to your neck. You could feel the tip of his fangs, the sharpness the entail. 

“Gonna m-make -shit- you my w-wife, and fill y-you -christ- will all my kids. J-just you and me.” he whispered into your ear. Oddly enough, you hadn’t been too far gone as he thought you would have been. Your clouded eyes came back to full vision when Miguel finished his sentence. Eye bulging wide open as you looked toward the man in fear. He kept murmuring, unaware of your fixed state.

“Mi-Miguel stop.” you pleaded, arms hitting at his shoulders as a sign that you didn’t like it anymore. The said man shook his head in response. “No, no. Al-almost there.” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes as he looked down at you. “Our little family y’know.” He whispered, a sliver of a smile on his face, ruby eyes staring down at you while you shook under him. Tears filling your eyes as you looked up to the man who hovered over you. “What?” you cried, arms pushing against his chest but his dead body weight kept you in one place, so your pushing was pointless. “I’ve -mmph- w-waited so long for you.” 

Sweat beaded against his forehead as he rutted into you; hips stuttering slight. You figured he was close, the way his thrusts slowed, his breathing slowed. There wasn’t any way for you to get out of this, so you accepted it. Accepted whatever this thing was. Finally, squirts of cum filled your insides, securing your fate. “I can’t wait to see your stomach big and round y’know. I’m glad you decided to help me. Letting that anomaly run wild and do its thing on me really set my plan into motion.” 

[fizziedoodle]

dating miguel o'hara ᯽

[vampireimiko]

omg! could you make a miguel fic were like him and reader are like mom and dad to hobie pav miles and gwen. miguel being the like strict dad n reader being the mom that defends her kids with her life n yells at him when he’s being to mean😭

protective mom mode: activate!

warnings, none !! just the reader being protective over her kids 🦭

note, AGHHH i actually love this request sm but it's been sitting in my inbox for a while so i wanted to get it out, HOWEVER. i might add on more to this scenario and make it sillier :3

If there was one thing everybody around Spider-Society knew, it's that Miguel was super strict and almost always being serious. He was known for being harder on younger spider people. While you were the polar opposite, you were nice and understanding, and loved to joke around from time to time. You were known for being someone younger spider people could come too.

So with that being said, the younger spider people, as in Miles, Pav, Hobie, and Gwen could always come to you for safety whenever Miguel was about to scold them. For example, just yesterday Miguel was about to get on all four of them for almost jeopardizing a mission.

"Miguel we understand what you're saying but-" Gwen started only get cutoff by Miguel who has his hands on his hips and a frustrated look on his face.

"No! You clearly don't understand! You 4 show me time after time again that you can't be trusted going on a mission together because all you do is-!" Miguel is then interrupted by YOU this time. Except this time, he goes quiet by himself. Your presence was enough to shut him up whenever he got to talking crazy. Cause if there was one thing about you, you did not play about those kids.

"Miguel, leave them babies alone! They ain't did nothing wrong!" You intervened, not letting him get in another word of scolding in. Miles and Hobie couldn't help but stifile a laugh at your intrusion which caused Gwen and Pav to bump shoulders with the two while also trying to stop themselves from laughing.

Miguel's eyes narrowed at your interruption, a mix of frustration and resignation evident in his expression. He knew better than to argue with you when you adopted that protective stance towards the 4 younger spider kids.

You stepped forward, placing a hand on Miguel's arm in a gesture of both reassurance and defiance. "Look, I get it, Miguel. You want to keep them safe, and that's admirable. But they're still learning, and they need room to make mistakes and grow. We were all in their shoes once."

Miguel let out a sigh, his initial frustration giving way to a more measured contemplation. He glanced at the group of 4 once more before finally nodding, acknowledging the truth in your words.

"You're right," he admitted, his tone softer now. "They do need both sides of the coin. I'll work on finding a better balance."

A collective sigh of relief escaped from the younger spider people as they realized they had been spared from a severe scolding. They exchanged grateful glances and offered you appreciative smiles.

"I know I'm right, now watch your mouth when you speaking my kids like that." You playfully said rolling your eyes. You then turned towards the group of four, "How about we go get some ice cream? My treat!"

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; FINALLY GOT ALL FIVE OF MY REQUESTS DONE 🫶🏾 opening requests up tonight methinks

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧