#rich!Miguel O’Hara | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xbellaxcarolinax · 1 year ago

Text

Scent

Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.

Minors DNI.

Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.

...

Miguel was fucking losing it.

He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.

It started with a scent.

Light at first, a barely there whiff of something.

It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.

It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?

It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—

Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.

Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.

He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.

He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.

He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.

You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken.

And God, did he want to take it.

…

"Miguel."

He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.

It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.

You were ovulating.

He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.

"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.

He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.

"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."

He did shut up after that.

Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.

You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for.

"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.

You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge.

"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?"

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”

Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.

“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.

He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration.

"Mig."

“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.

“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”

One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.

He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring.

"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”

"M'fine."

"I don't think—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me."

"What—"

"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."

You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.

Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.

He was so fucked.

…

You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you.

While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.

He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch.

His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.

The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.

And...he missed you.

But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.

Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.

And still, he suffered.

...

Earth- 0708.

A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.

Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.

And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.

You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda.

“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.

“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.

“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.

He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.

You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.

“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.

He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.

“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.

“Shoot.”

“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”

“O…kay.”

Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.

“What?”

“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.”

“Miguel, what the fuck—”

“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.

“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.”

“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”

“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.

“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”

He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?”

“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.

“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.”

“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”

“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—

“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”

The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.

"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.

“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.

It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.

“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.

“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”

“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?”

Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.

“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”

“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.

“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?”

A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal.

“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count.

He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.

“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.

“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you.

“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.

“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side.

He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.

“Wanna taste?”

He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.

You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.

“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.

“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.

He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat.

"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.

"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste.

"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.

"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.

"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.

Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.

"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.

You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.

"M-miguel?"

"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.

Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.

"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.

"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core.

"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.

"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"

"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.

You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.

"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"

"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo."

He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass.

"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.

You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.

"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.

"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."

"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.

You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.

He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had.

"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.

"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.

"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."

#spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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cheonstapes · 8 months ago

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

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

SMUT

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

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

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

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

you loved your job, you really did.

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

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

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

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

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

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

oh…yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

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

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

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

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

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

sent 16:42

(y.n)

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

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

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

sent 16:50

(y.n)

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

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

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

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

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

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

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

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

“leaving already?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fucking christ…”

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

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

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

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

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

“here.”

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

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

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

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

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

“nngh..fuck..”

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

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no promises.”

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

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

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

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nova-amor · 1 year ago

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miguel o’hara’s nails scratched at your scalp, his fingers laced into your hair and grasping for dear life at the back of your head. his head was tilted back, his eyes barely fluttered shut and throat straining to conceal the deep groans emerging from his chest.

“just like that, nena— you like sucking cock, huh? that’s how you’re so good at this? like being a little cockslut?” miguel rambled, his crimson eyes flickering down to look at you. his cock was buried to the hilt down your throat, your watery eyes peering up at him from your kneeling position. he had to look away; if he didn’t he was surely going to burst at the seams. “gag on it, nena. get it messy. coat every inch of my cock with your spit.”

your head bobbed along his length at an incredible pace, throat spasming hard around his girth with each brush against your sensitive uvula. the filthy sounds of your mouth being fucked filled the room, the wet noise of skin hitting against skin echoing off the walls. your gags and whimpers were muffled by miguel’s cock jackhammering the aching cavern of your throat, your jaw growing more sore with each rough thrust.

thick globs of spit were smeared against miguel’s pelvis and your chin, his rich pre-cum coating every inch of space in your mouth. “oh fuck— gettin’ me so close, nena— fuck, i’mma cum— g’na cum all down your throat— you’d like that, wouldn’t you? my good little cockslut; want me breed this little throat, huh?” miguel’s sinful words were met by your hums in agreement, the vibrations around his cock making his eyes roll back and jaw clench. his body tingled and his balls tightened, “fuck— oh my fuckin’— sé mi buena chica y bebe cada gota que te doy— no seas despilfarrador.”

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aresdoll · 7 months ago

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˖౨ৎ ⋆｡˚﹒janitor a.i bot list update P.2

【 my janitor ai acc - @ Aresangell 】

【 my venus chub acc - @ Starangell 】

【 my cai acc - @ Angelstaar 】

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Liu Kang 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He didn't pay attention to you so you decided to record a spicy video for him, but you didn't expect him to react.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - the hot guy at your gym was flirting with you. 🏳️‍⚧️ 》 transmasc miguel au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Priest Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Miguel O'Hara chose to be a priest after a personal tragedy, he never faithfully believed in anything ── However, you soon changed that, and he had to fight not to give in to the sins of the flesh.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han /Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You and Bi Han were friends with benefits, but the two of you felt much more than just lust.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Tomas and you were friends for two years. It was obvious to everyone who looked at the way Vrbada spoke to you or looked at you that the ninja was completely in love with you; the less you saw it, whether because you ignored his feelings on purpose or simply couldn't see that there was much more than platonic love. However, with the arrival of your ex, he needed to act.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/ Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You couldn't become a ninja because you were too weak, but now, the grandmaster himself took care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You accidentally sent a nude to your university professor.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC, Needy Boyfriend - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Dmitry is your rich and needy boyfriend, who needs you 24/7, especially when he wakes up without you in his bed.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were caught by him masturbating.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You needed money and now you have a 'sugar daddy'.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tio Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Your non blood uncle is obsessed with you. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a family together, but apart.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Father Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You need to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He wants to ask you out with him.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - drinks

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Stepfather Albert Wesker - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you know him... V.3

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Cramps

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Wife Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your sub wife

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - boyfriend gifts

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Goth Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He liked you and your makeup. 🦇 》 gothic au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you get hurt

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were living in the house of a grumpy old man, but he os very cute... 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Professor Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He's your annoying chemistry professor. 📚 》 college au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Dracula - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - maybe he wants more than your blood. 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Count Dracula Count - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a teacher's assistant and help him with his classes. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】dirty secret🎀 》 DILF SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - teasing and punishment

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Ice God/Bi Han - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You are the servant of a grumpy ice god. ❄️ 》 ICE GOD/KING AU.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Mad Scientist/Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a wonderful experience of him. 🥼 》 MAD SCIENTIST AU

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Johnny Cage - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - aftercare

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - low self esteem | 🎀 》 daddykink version

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you got pregnant with him... 🕷️ 》 miguel o’hara x blackcat!user

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are the new hero of the seven and he has his eyes on you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - we never talked about ***** **** ┆ 🧼 》 fight club au, you are his tyler...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada- 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - new recruit

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- valentine's day

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Simon Riley 'Ghost' - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - slutty torture

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your father figure

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- lying between his legs

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC - Stepfather, Yan Jin - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - your new stepfather is rude but extremely handsome. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- he needs to take care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- arranged marriage...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】survivor.🕊️ 》TWD AU, He's Your Negan.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Titan Lord Raiden - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - reencounter

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Step!Brother, Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】breedtable ─ m!preg.🕊️ 》DARK SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere! Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a dark hero who is in love. 🕊️ 》 DARK SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere!Shang Tsung - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - obsession

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - fuck buddies

917 notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 1 year ago

Note

omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡

grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader

❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.

❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit

❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.

❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated

❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.

He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip.

“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you.

“What?”

“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.”

“Like I said she would."

Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”

That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.

“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just�� dramatic.”

“Not that big?”

You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.

He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time.

Then you fuck him!

His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.

“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.”

Oh. You made a mistake.

You don’t like it when Miguel is angry.

Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight.

He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen.

“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.

“Perdóname, papi.”

Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @?

She’s just his employee.

Need this.

Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup.

“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch.

“Ah. Sí.”

You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.

He takes the cup away.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind.

“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days.

“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled.

You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.

“You told me to make sure it sold.”

“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”

“You don’t like it?”

"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.

“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”

“Fuck me.”

“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.”

“Then do it. You have a camera.”

What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing.

“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”

“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.

“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls.

“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.”

When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.

“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?”

He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.

“I’m sorry--”

“Ya sé.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.

“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera?

“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?”

You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.

His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.

“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.”

“But Elena is on her w--”

“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.”

If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #atsv fic #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #miggy x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara smut

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just-a-fluffy-knight · 4 months ago

Text

Little Sass Factory

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: canon typical language, Logan being ruthless and Wade being a teasy asshole

A/N: LETS GOOO DEADPOOL AND WOLVIE FIC‼️‼️ I’ve been wanting to write for these guys ever since I saw the movie y’all have no idea I am so obsessed with them right now 😞 AND A PLUS BEING THIS DOESNT NECESSARILY SPOIL THE MOVIE SOOOO YALL CAN READ IT 🙌🏻🙌🏻

I really hope y’all like this bc I cannot stop thinking about them and yapping about them to my buddies 😭🙏🏻 Like as much as I’d love to wreck these two, I cannot stop thinking about them as a ler duo so have this :]

OKAY HAVE FUN READING YALL 🫂❤️

Tag List: @prairleedog (THANKS FOR THE TITLE INSPO POOKALOOKS 🙏🏻❤️) @kittenwhiskers @cherry-bomb-blush

“Y’know what? I’m actually real excited for this! Moony has been wanting to write a thing with us for a while now! Good on her for pushing through the writers block, that shit sucks ass.”

“…What the hell are you talking about?! We’re looking for the kid, remember!?”

And that they were. They’d been scouring the apartment for like… six minutes now trying to find you. But somehow, you’d been able to consistently switch hiding spots without them noticing.

How? They had no clue. The pair wouldn’t have been surprised discovering you were also some kind of mutant but with advanced sneakiness, if that was even a thing.

Wade was actually having a bit of fun with this, whereas Logan… he was getting pretty pissed. More so than usual.

“Kid, I swear to god, if you don’t show yourself in ten goddamn seconds, I WILL start tearing this fucking place down!”

Logan crouched, his claws instantly coming out, making Wade panic.

“Woaaah, woah, woah, woah! Easy, Peanut, we’re trying to find ‘em! Not kill them, which may sound a little rich coming from me-“

“I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to be angry. The kid decided to pull that shit on us and then split. And now we can’t find ‘em.” The older man growled, his claws retracting back into his hands.

“And this is the moment we start working together!” Wade announced, an arm slung around Logan’s shoulder that most likely would’ve been sliced if he hadn’t allowed the latter to shrug it off in annoyance.

However, Logan swiftly turned at the sound of a noise nearby, his eyebrow raising as he went to check it out, leaving Wade to keep rambling about nonsense he didn’t understand.

“God, where’s Peter Parker when you need him?? Actually, I don’t think I’d mind a lil bit of Miguel O’hara…” Wade let out a long whistle.

“…Ah wait, he doesn’t have that Spidey-Tingle , fUCK-!”

The merc suddenly yelped as he was grabbed by his collar, being yanked towards where Logan was moving.

Meanwhile, you were curled up, both hands over your mouth as you tried to shut yourself up, anxious titters threatening to give yourself away.

You mentally berated that stupid floorboard that just had to creak at the slightest bit of goddamn pressure.

“Ohhh, Y/NNNNN! Come on out now, we’re not gonna hurt ya!”

The sound of the merc’s goofy teasing made you snicker even more, but when you heard how close Logan’s voice was to the closet, you froze.

“Why the hell do you have to talk like that?”

“Whaaat? It turns up the fun knob a little bit! And I know they can hear meeeee!” Wade crooned in that same sing-song tone, followed by an unamused huff from Logan.

“We’re gonna getcha, we’re gonna getchaaaa!”

God, could they just get out the room?? You had to throw them off again and fast. During your panicked inner monologue, you were soon met with… silence.

You relaxed, knowing you must’ve had an opportunity.

…At least you did until you realised something. When the hell is it ever quiet when those two are together?

Then, you heard a hushed voice coming from outside the closet door.

“Ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for…”

…Oh, fuck.

Without warning, the closet doors were swung open by Wade, and the merc jokingly vocalised (very off-key too) while throwing his arms up with a flourish.

“WOOOAAAAAH!”

As you yelped in fear and dashed out the closet, Wade laughed and made a glance towards… well, air.

“If ya know, ya know!”

You quickly slipped past Wade, also laughing as you ran out the door to the room you’d been hiding in.

“Yohou’ll never take me al- ACK-!”

You yelped again as two strong arms wrapped around your torso, hoisting you up and off the floor.

…Shit.

“And just where do you think you’re goin, bub?”

“Wait, wahahait! Logan, hohold on-“

“No no no no no, I’m not waiting for anything.” Logan interrupted, carrying you back into the bedroom. “Not after you pulled that shit.”

“Oh, whahat? A little bit of water?”

“I wouldn’t say the rubber band on the sink trick counts as a little bit of water, Y/N.” Wade snickered, crossing his arms and smiling proudly at the fact you’d been caught.

“Come ohon, it wasn’t that bahAD-!” You yelped again as you were tossed onto the bed, still giggling. “Whahat’s the matter? Couldn’t shake the water off, kitty cat?”

The older hero scowled threateningly at you, ignoring Wade who sniggered at the joking insult.

“What?”

“You heheard me!”

Just as Logan was about to full on lunge towards you, Wade grabbed him.

“Hey, hey! Easy now, boy.” The merc spoke like he was talking to a feral dog, making Logan glare at him and growl.

“God, what now?”

“We gotta approach slowly! It builds up anticipation…” As Wade spoke, he began slowly approaching, carefully clambering onto the bed. “And proves to this little prankster how royally fucked they are!”

And it was working. Your giggles soon turned nervous, and you curled up, attempting to shy away from Wade (but not actually putting a lot of effort into getting away, much to Logan’s surprise and Wade’s amusement).

“And theeeen I’m juuust gonnaaaaaa…”

Suddenly, the merc’s arms swiftly looped under your own, lifting and leaving your, well, everything pretty much exposed and unable to be protected.

“Go on, boy! Gettem! Gettem, boy!”

Logan’s fury was way too fuelled by Wade’s stupid comments to even allow you to get a word in edgeways, instantly lunging forwards before digging and vibrating his claw-shaped hands right into your ribs.

“OhoH SHIHIHIT-! L-Logan, gehet OHOHOFF-!” A squeal left your mouth as you burst into frantic giggles and tried to kick, only for the older man to firmly shove right back at your legs, rendering you unable to fight back.

“God, will you just- quit the kicking?” Logan growled, a surprising air of playfulness behind it as he shot his hands right down to your thighs, firmly kneading there.

Despite already squealing your ass off, you couldn’t help but make a quip.

“Mahahaking biscuits reheally isn’t gonna hehehelp you beat the kitty allegahations, buhud-!”

Another low grumble filled the room, before Logan turned his head to Wade.

“Shut the kid up.”

“Roger that!”

Wade did a dumb salute before unhooking his arms from under yours to wiggle his fingers right into your armpits.

“Getchagetchagetcha!”

“AAAAHHHHHAHA DAMMIHIHIT-!” You practically shrieked, your giggles instantly shifting into full blown laughter as you pinned your elbows to your ribs, trying to squirm away but failing thanks to that iron grip Logan had on your legs.

“Ooh! I think I got a killer spot here, Logan!”

“Hmph, that’s nothin. Watch this.”

Logan earned another screech by mercilessly drilling his thumbs into your hips, making you buck instinctively and cackle uncontrollably.

“Nuh-uh! Armpits are the killer!” Wade protested, the merc speeding up his tickles on your underarms.

“Fat chance! They’re like a banshee when you get ‘em here!”

You wanted to protest, but all you could focus on were those hands attacking your weak spots.

Eventually, you felt them thankfully let up.

…For now, anyway.

“Now, Y/N. There is a way we can squash this beef, y’know.”

Logan sighed at Wade’s words, never understanding this ridiculous slang he dropped into conversation like it was nothing.

“Maybe a simple phrase such as… ‘I’m sorry?’”

“I can do one better.” Logan interrupted. “How about ‘I’m sorry I was a jabbering little sass factory who had the audacity to pull a dumb fuckin prank on people who didn’t do jack?’”

While catching your breath, you sealed what was basically your death wish.

“Oh, yeheah, Captain Caveman? Wheheres your helicopter cluhub, you gonna hit mehe with it?”

Logan fell silent again… while Wade couldn’t help but let out a wheeze at the quip.

“Ohoh, my god! Baby’s first character comparison joke, I’ve taught you so well..!” Wade sniffed dramatically, wiping a fake tear of proudness from the corner of his eye.

However, he froze once he heard you mutter something else.

“Thahat’s right, Mr Clehean-“

A strong gasp of offence left the merc as he placed a hand on his chest, while Logan gave him a smug look at not being the only one who was insulted.

“I beg your finest fucking pardon?! You think that’s any way to talk to Marvel Jesus and his very hairy disciple here!?”

Logan gave Wade another unamused glare.

“Y’know what?”

Wade then swiftly grabbed you again.

“Give ‘em the whiskers, Peanut!”

“They’re not whiskers, they’re muttonchops, you dumb fuck.”

“Same thing! Or shall I pull the move and do a much better job as always?”

The older man snarled, lowering his head down.

“I’ll show you who does it better, asshole…”

“Okay, wait, wahait-! W-What mohove is thiHIHIS-?!”

You cut yourself off with yet another shriek as Logan suddenly blew a giant raspberry right against your stomach, the added sensations that his facial hair provided making you near silent laughter.

It was clear that Logan was basically taking out all his pent up annoyance at Wade on you, and good god it tickled super bad.

And Wade? He was being no help either, as usual.

“Awww, wook at the giggwy wittle baby! Are the Badger Berries making their tummy all tickly? And are they having the time of their life? Yes, they are! Yes, they aaare!”

…Asshole. (Even if he was right.)

You did pride yourself on lasting about five raspberries (Wade could only ever really handle two), but you eventually had to tap your hand against one of Wade’s arms that were still hooked under yours.

“Okahay, Logan. Give em a rest.”

Despite his annoyed hesitance, Logan leant back up, allowing you to get your breath back in shaky pants.

“Geheez… you twoho are juhuhust..!”

“We’re waiting, kid.”

The older man interrupted, giving you a playful but threatening look.

“Fihine… I-I’m sohorry..!” You sighed, your face red as anything as you blinked away little tears that had pricked in the corners of your eyes.

“There we go! That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Wade teased, resting his chin on your shoulder, in which you just rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, we better get ready for round two, huh?”

…Uh oh.

“WHAT?! B-Buhut I apologised!”

Wade did a pretend ‘apologetic asshole’ wince.

“Yeah… but this attack was more only to get you to apologise. This one is to actually teach you a lesson!”

“But thahat’s bullshit-!”

“Well, it’s a good thing we don’t give a fuck.”

Logan shared a look of pure mischief with Wade.

“Let’s gettem.”

And just like that, you were screaming and laughing the apartment down once more, as Logan nuzzled his furry face right into your belly again, pretending to eat it and growling playfully while Wade wrapped his arms around you and blew a raspberry right into the crook of your neck.

Yeah… you were gonna be here for a while.

#deadpool and wolverine tickles #ler!deadpool #ler!wadewilson #ler!wolverine #ler!loganhowlett #lee!reader #sfw tickling community #my writing 🌙✍️#THRGEGAHAHA ENJOY YOU GUYS

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spiderman2-99 · 22 days ago

Text

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration. When the dead return home, the day is filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

They’ve been extinct since 2095, actually. How hadn’t he known? That should've been something he'd figured out sooner, right? But no, he finds out a week before the day itself while he’s trying to make Gabriella’s ofrenda.

What does his beloved baby girl, who he would’ve given the world a thousand times over, get instead? Paper flowers.

Paper flowers instead of real ones, possessions that represented her instead of properly being hers, a half-done altar that was done in a manic, grief-fueled haze.

It’s paltry. Miguel knows it is. But it’s all he can give, and by God, he hates it. He tried to make it up in home-made pan de muerto and fresh fruit and her favorite dinners, in the carefully arranged papel picado garlands, in finding actual copal to burn… but it’s not enough. It could never be enough.

It’s been a long time since he’d last made an ofrenda, actually. He fell out of the tradition sometime when he was in college, when he was young and unburdened and selfish and so, so stupid, and had convinced himself he had much more important things to do with his time than honor traditions.

Sometimes, he wants to reach out to that little twerp and beat him senseless.

No, he wants to laugh, or scream, or pull his hair out. It’s a sick joke; a cruel jab at his expense, that he only started giving a shit about his own cultural holidays again after Gabi died, when he could no longer share the homemade food with her, help her learn about the significance.

It feels so wrong, being unable to share this with his daughter. Having the altar be dedicated to her, instead of her helping him set it up; teaching her how to make the banners and arrange flowers and bake bread, entertaining whatever thousands of questions she’d have about the holiday and her great-great-whoever’s they’d be celebrating. What would she have thought of the chicken and chile rellenos? Of the Calaveritas? The toys he left out?

Hijo de puta. A parent isn’t supposed to outlive their child.

It’s a pathetic altar too, as far as he’s concerned. Miguel hadn't done this in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how to; having to go on the internet just to remember the guidelines. Even then, there were so many conflicting answers that it left him confused and flying blind the whole damn time.

Did he do enough as a father to honor her? Did the ofrenda do her memory justice? Did he do anything right? Is there enough salt to purify her body? Enough water and food to provide for her long journey? Was the copal actually supposed to be incense, or did it have a different meaning? Are the purple candles placed correctly? Would tissue paper marigolds, devoid of scent and life, be enough guide her safely back home?

These worries swarm like vultures to a carcass, picking at and tormenting him to the point where he can barely stand to look at the stupid, thrown-together thing any longer. He should know how to do this— today is much more than just a holiday; Día de Muerto and all of its rich traditions should be a part of who he is, steeped in his identity, his culture. It should be more familiar than breathing.

But now it just makes him ache, seeing how he couldn’t even properly commemorate his own little girl.

In a brief moment of clarity, Miguel realizes he really just should’ve just taken more time to research and plan it out better. If only it weren’t for the constant high-stakes responsibilities, the needs of far too many all on his shoulders, the people, people, people.

Not like he didn’t try; Halloween and all day yesterday, Miguel had been rushing uncharacteristically through work, trying to get caught up enough to take time off. But of course, God had it out for him and practically half the damn Society wanted to barge into his office to badger him about something. He ended up with a shock-ton of random gifts and baked goods on his desk that he’d unceremoniously pawned off to Peter B. (save for a bottle of Don Julio, but the other man didn’t need to know that), enough sanguine well-wishes to last him a lifetime, and high blood pressure.

And the time and effort he scraped up still wasn’t enough to get it done right. It could never be good enough. He could never be good enough.

Miguel can’t stop second-guessing himself, can’t stop that all too familiar spiral of guilt and self-loathing that rots away at his insides like necrosis. He’s a scientist and an engineer, for shocksake— logic and reason should override his emotions, should stop them from clouding him at all. But all he can do is sit there, staring at the sorry excuse for an ofrenda with a lump in his throat and a throbbing headache that won’t go away.

Today couldn’t have gone any worse.

His joints pop viciously as he gets up from the floor just to prove him wrong. Cristo en el cielo.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that… well, no one is here. No one to see his embarrassment, or his failure; no one to question him, or ask him how he’s feeling, or try to give a hug, or any more goddamn food. It’s just him and his ever-spiraling thoughts and the grief that threatens to consume him whole.

Carefully, with a trembling hand, he lights the incense, then the candles, the golden glow dancing around his otherwise dark apartment. It… almost makes it look better. Less like a broken down man’s sorry attempt at repentance and more like a proper ofrenda.

Almost.

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration, filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

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improbable-outset · 9 months ago

Note

I hath a steamy scientist Miguel suggestion

Imagine he’s working on an aphrodisiac and is being as careful as he possibly can be. However he didn’t consider how his spider biology makes him immune in certain doses. So he keeps the cap on the bottle off for just a few moments. Enough for you to walk in and immediately get a whiff.

But you don’t notice at first and take it as some horniness, however the drug comes in waves. And as Miguel goes in to hug you. You can help but hump him. The rest you decide :3

I love this idea omg- I know I posted saying I was gonna post this on Friday but I got too impatient lol

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Wife!Reader, Aphrodisiac influences, dry humping, innuendos. Reader just being extra horny lmao

𝐀/𝐍: You know, in my two and a half years of writing smut, I’ve only written a dry humping fic once (forest sex lmao a clusterfuck bc I stepped out of my comfort zone for that one) so it’s not the best 😭 but I guess practice makes progress

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

You could see him through the big glass window that offered a wide view of his lab’s interior. He had his back facing you, perched on the swivel chair, but you noticed him tinkering with some test tubes on the bench in front of him.

Nothing new; he would always be working on something whenever you came here. He still hadn’t noticed you were just a few feet away from him, too engrossed in whatever it was he was working on.

You stepped towards the doors, clutching the paper bag in your hand with food you were planning to share with him. The lab doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, finally catching Miguel’s attention.

He craned his neck towards your direction. He held a hard gaze, obviously annoyed with whoever just barged into his lab, but that immediately morphed into a tender smile once he saw it was you.

As you stepped further into his lab, the sterile smell got stronger— a scent you were all too familiar with. But this time there was another faint underlying scent that you couldn’t fully capture.

It tingled your senses but you brushed it off as just another compound he was probably synthesising. Again, nothing new.

“Hey you…” he said, his voice rich like honey.

He peeled off his latex gloves and stood up from his chair abruptly in jubilant, the swivel chair squeaked from the sudden absence of his weight.

Your lips tugged up in a shy smile. “Hey there stranger,”

He had his lab coat on that shrouded the digital spider suit underneath. A testament of his dual life as a superhero and a scientist.

You’ve always seen him like this whenever you would visit him on the clock, but for some reason as he stepped closer towards you with long strides, you felt your heart rate increase and a sudden heat rushing to your core.

“Sorry about the mess, I didn’t expect you to come so early,” he finished his sentence by dumping the gloves in a nearby bin.

Your senses were tingling more prominently now and the new scent you smelt earlier was getting more apparent. There was a sudden alluring shift in the air and you couldn’t tell if it was the smell that was getting to your head or your husband's sudden accelerated sex appeal. Either way you could feel your mind slowly turn into mush.

“Are those for me?” Miguel asked, pointing to the bag. His question quickly forced you back into the present, away from your chain of thoughts.

You nodded quickly, too afraid to open your mouth. Instead you thrust your hand out with the bag for him to take.

He took the bag from you and peeked inside. “Tres leches cake?”

You could feel your heart almost leap out of your chest the way his face lit up. A sight you would forever burn into your psyche. He placed the bag down on the nearest bench and cupped your cheeks.

The coldness of the platinum from the wedding band brushed against your flushed skin as he held your face in his hands. His touches felt like fire to you, making you jolt ever so slightly.

“You're really spoiling me here, mi alma. Really helping me forget about how terrible today was going,” he uttered, slowly leaning his face closer to yours.

His words would’ve tugged your heartstrings but right now, you couldn’t fully focus on what he was saying. The tingling feeling was too strong for you to ignore now, and his gaze he had on you wasn’t helping either.

He kissed your lips, soft and tender, yet you felt like you were going to combust. Those few seconds his lips were on yours felt like a lifetime before he pulled away, but his broad arms now enveloped around your waist, keeping you in his warmth.

The close proximity between the two of you was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how his body was pressed against yours, and you could almost feel your clit brush over his crotch.

If you were to grind your hips right now, you could probably rub the sensitive bud just right.

You really didn’t want to ruin a sweet moment. He was just showing his appreciation to you but you couldn’t help yourself from rolling your hips against his crotch just once.

You weren’t surprised when you got no response. He probably just saw it as a mishap. Reluctantly, you did it again, a little rougher this time.

It definitely didn’t go unnoticed by him now because you heard a stifled groan against your neck. He pulled his face away just enough so you could see him.

“Mig…” you whispered. His eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going through your head. If only he knew.

There were several reasons why this wasn’t the best time to be doing this, in his workplace more specifically, but your mind was too hazy to even come up with one.

Your senses were thrown out the window and you started to grind against his lower half, desperate for some sort of friction.

“Easy…I’m-” Miguel's words were cut off when you felt a sudden jab between his legs. He was getting aroused just as you were. You angled yourself so you had better access to his hips, with your arms wrapped around his neck. His hardened dick gave the perfect pressure you needed.

“So, is this what you wanted? You missed me this much, hm?” The words escaped in a breathy tone, and you could see his fangs emerging from his canine as he opened his mouth to talk. You could sense the underlying teasing in his voice that had your wetness pool your panties.

You didn’t know where this sudden urge came from. You were actually fully intending on spending this time sharing the cake you made. But the euphoria was coming in strong waves and you couldn’t resist anymore.

Your clit was starting to throb as you felt his dick grind against your clothed cunt. Even if he only had a digital suit on that could easily disappear with a few taps of his watch, it still felt painfully restricted.

Your walls were clutching onto nothing, desperate to feel him inside you and reach every crevice.

You didn’t expect him to start grinding his hips onto you too. You had to bite back your desperate moan from the sudden shift in dynamics. The way he was rubbing on you made your panties press onto your slick folds as more of your wetness was spilling out of your cunt.

Your arms reached to his waist to pull his hips further against yours, a desperate attempt to get more friction out of him. Your knees were about to give in and you could only just about hold yourself up. A staggered moan was heard from him before he halted suddenly.

“The window.” He managed to spatter out. Your line of vision quickly turned to where he was looking.

The window, the first thing you would see before you would come into the lab. All the moisture dried up from your mouth and it was not just from your breathless moans.

There was a momentary pause in your arousal that was quickly replaced with frustration. You were so caught up in trying to chase your high, you weren’t focusing on your surroundings.

Any Spider Person could walk past here and catch you both. The last thing you wanted was your husband, a leader that had so many people relying on him, to be caught red handed in a predicament from something you initiated.

He withdrew himself away from you, taking all the warmth with him to pull up the sleeve of his lab coat. It was an easy fix, all he had to do was tap on his watch, turning the glass opaque and giving the privacy you both needed.

Just when he was about to pull you in again, he froze. Something else was on his mind. He turned his face to his bench where he was working before you came in. You frowned from his lack of attention.

“What now?” You huffed, your torment evident in your voice. Was he going to go back to work? Did he not want you here anymore? His sudden dismissal made you feel ill with unease.

“Shock, the aphrodisiac was uncapped.” He said as he swiftly moved to the bench. You blinked, trying to process if you heard him right.

“What?”

“The aphrodisiac, it was an oversight. Explains why you were acting so…needy just now,” he placed the cap back onto the vial, the scent from earlier slowly fading away. You cocked your brow inquisitively.

“Why are you messing around with an aphrodisiac in the first place?” You didn’t think he would need a sex enhancing substance as a geneticist.

Even after he secured the cap back onto the aphrodisiac, your clit was still throbbing and you were still desperate for some sort of release.

“It’s not what it looks like. I was working on an experimental chemical compound for a project. I guess I underestimated how strong the reaction could get,” he said sheepishly, turning back to face you again.

“My God, Miguel…” you sighed. It was all making sense now. You wouldn’t be feeling this turned on without some sort of stimuli.

“But we don’t have to stop. I could pause my work for a little longer for some ‘us-time’” he said before lifting you and placing you on a clearer bench. A smirk crept on his lips and you could see the lust swirling in his eyes.

Despite the air being charged along with your flared libido, you still didn’t forget the main reason you came in here.

“What about the cake?” You gestured to the bag that was still sitting on the other end of the bench.

“The cake can wait, we might as well finish what you started without any unintended side effects,” he ended his sentence with a tap on his watch, disengaging his suit.

Precum was already leaking from the tip…

Eager and pent up.

I hope I did you justice here lol. A wise women (one of my fave fic writers) once said, your clit throbbing is your second heartbeat ;)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @mybvalentine @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @monarchberrysblog @lazyjellyfish300 @miguelbaby @safixiovi @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @rosegnome @ghost-lantern @famouscattale @maomaimao @ultravioletrayz

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @club-danger-zone @lauraolar14 @beckberin-xo

Made it this far? Help families in 🍉 here!! (Might as well use my platform here for something good)

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teenidlegirl · 5 months ago

Text

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ౨౿ ׅ ۟ ֪ 𝓕eel 𝓨our 𝓗eartlines ۪ ׂ 𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀vaquero!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. your family bought a new ranch next door to the o’haras. both families grew acquainted with each other. you and the eldest o’hara brother grow an interesting bond which lead to something more but your father isn’t necessarily fond of.

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. rancho!au, neighbors/enemies to lovers, forbidden love, fluff, angst, drama, tension, arguments, jealousy, smut, protected sex (yessir), fingering, truck sex, swearing, pet names, happy ending, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

new start at a new home.

your parents bought a new ranch after selling the old one. it’s been in your family for generations but the time has come for a new home. however, there’s another ranch property next door.

the o’hara ranch.

rumored to be a woman and her two sons. according to your parents, they weren’t opposed to have another ranch near their property. in fact, thrilled to have neighbors. that ranch your parents bought hasn’t occupied in a few years.

the opportunity to meet them is the day you move.

the radiate sun was your enemy. the humid air made the move unbearable. a layer on sweat glistening over your skin from walking back and forth carrying boxes. summer is the worst time to move.

one particular box was a bit heavier than the previous ones you carried. your hand fails to grip it from underneath, causing it to slip out of your hands before another pair of hands catch it in time.

“i got it.”

a rich, baritone voice makes you look up to who it belongs to. your eyes dilate immensely.

a man who towers over you to a insane level. way too tall for the average male. thick brows with a pair of brown eyes. sharpest cheekbones you’ve ever seen on a man, so sharp you’ll get a paper cut if you drag your finger over it. and last, a set of very plump lips.

ay dios, he is handsome.

“cuiadado con eso.”

carlos, your older brother, walks by. “ay tonta, i told you i’ll get it pero no haces caso. gracias, miguel.” he turns to the man standing in from of you.

oh that’s his name.

you just roll your eyes at your brother. face turned to the said to conceal your embarrassment and frustration. cheeks slightly flushed.

“todo bien, carlos. i manage to catch it in time before miss manos de trapo here dropped it.” miguel chuckles, shooting a glance at you for emphasis.

your mouth dropped in offense and he smirks.

what an ass.

well yes, you were dumb to believe you could carry that damn box and should’ve waited for carlos to come get it. you were being stubborn but also trying to help as much as possible.

both men laugh at your reaction.

“cabrones.” you grumble, looking off to the side.

“cuiadao, hermana. don’t be mean to our neighbor.” carlos teases, nudging your shoulder.

you figured this man, miguel, is your neighbor. one of the o’hara brothers. one of the sons.

“well, i don’t think i’m the mean one when he’s talking shit about me with my brother.” you deadpan.

that elicits a chuckle from the said man. “ay chiquita, i’m not being mean. just stating the truth.” a teasing smirk graces his lips.

“no me llamas eso, cabrón.” you glare up at him.

the smirk grew wider. you want to slap it off.

“oh okay! lets get a move on, vale?” carlos clears his throat, sensing the tensions between you and miguel. clearly he didn’t expect this.

you walk away in a sassy manner, not sparing one last glance at your asshole neighbor. what you don’t see is him watching as you leave. brown eyes following your figure before he heads inside the house to put the big box away.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

it’s been a few weeks since you settled into the new ranch. you’ve grown to adore it. decorating your room was your favorite part. throughout those few weeks, you and your family quickly accustomed.

the only thing you weren’t accustomed to was the weekly visits from your neighbors. your dad, brother and the o’hara brothers been working together with both ranches. your mom and their mom, conchata, have grown to be friends. you don’t mind conchata or gabriel, the younger o’hara brother. the woman seems very nice and caring. she adores her two boys with all her heart. very determined and resilient woman. her husband died when the boys were young so she raised them on her own since. an admirable woman. gabriel is such a sweetheart, completely different from miguel. you first met him and he was very polite but also a big flirt. you like him more.

miguel, the o’hara sibling you dislike. ever since he started working with your dad and brother, you practically see him everyday. his large frame catching your eye form the window or porch. luckily, there hasn’t been many encounters other than quickly glances and smirks. he’s too busy working to talk to you and you prefer it that way.

however, you can’t deny observing him from afar as he worked outside. always wearing a pair of blue jeans con sus botas. switches between black, white or gray shirts that hug his muscles a little too tight. so tight you can see the outline of his abs. so tight on the sleeves his biceps are on display, those hairy muscular arms. flexing whenever he grabs or works on something. you’ve noticed la virgencita hanging around his neck when he passed by you at the ranch one day. he also wears either black or tan hat. when he takes it off, those messy brown curls are revealed. you bite your lip when he runs a hand through those curls then quietly curse to yourself when you catch yourself in the act. you hate him, not like him.

seeing that stupid smirk on his face when he notices you makes your body ignite on fire. brows furrowed and hands balled into fists while your heart beats like crazy. his entire existence makes your skin crawl. you’ve only met the guy for a few weeks and you despise him. he drives you fucking insane.

why do you wear the cutest outfits when he’s there? why do you apply extra perfume when he’s there? why do you check your breath a million times when he’s there? why do you keep doing these things?

he’s driving you fucking crazy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ �� ₊ ୧ 𓂃

as you exit your room and step foot into the kitchen, your mother asks if you’ll take fresh lemonade for the men. part of your wanted to rip your hair out because you know you’ll run into miguel. as the obedient girl you are and know not to argue with your mother, you make the lemonade and take it outside.

carrying the tray of four lemonades, you walk over to the ranch. as you approach the table, you notice miguel at the stables from across. you were lost in trance as he maneuvered with the horse he was dealing with. quickly blinking, you snap out of it and place down the tray of lemonade. the family dog lola, a german shepherd, comes to your side. you happily pet her, smiling her happy face and wagging tail.

“nice to see you again, chiquita.”

the smile on your face vanishes and is replaced with a irritated look. slowly turning around, you see miguel standing in the opposite side of the table.

damn how the fuck did he get here so fast? he was literally just at the stables a few seconds ago.

“i said don’t call me that, cabrón.” you scowl.

“ay no hagas asi, hermosa. you love it when i call you that.” the bastard smirks as he drinks his lemonade.

“you’re so fucking annoying.” you spit. “rude and never listens. i applaud your mother for putting up with your stupidity.” you look away, arms crossed.

you don’t see his smirk falters a little. “hermosa, i’m not being rude or trying to be. it’s just teasing.” he sound a bit serious but you don’t buy it.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes. “vamos, lola.” you tap your thigh to signal her to follow you back to the house, which she did with her tail wagging happily.

a pair of brown eyes follow you, watching you leave. you fail to see the slight slump on his shoulders. miguel sighs before taking a another sip of the delicious lemon then heads off to join the others.

you and miguel both fail to see a third set of eyes form afar. a light, skeptical frown settles on your dad’s face as he witnessed the interaction. he can sense the tension and it didn’t sit right with him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

one evening, your parents decide to host a carne asada for family and friends. that also means the o’haras were invited, meaning miguel was invited.

oh you wanted to die.

but family members and friends would be there so you’ll be distracted with them. as long as you stay away from miguel, you’ll be fine.

after a fresh long shower, you wear a cute gingham dress con tus botas blancos. you add a few small white bow clips in your hair as accessories to feel more cute. makeup and hair done.

the background is filled with people, relatives and friends. loud music playing from the speaker. food on the table ready to be served. oh the delicious smell consumes your senses, making your tummy growl. you grab yourself a plate of food then venture off to meet up with your cousins. it’s been a while since you’ve seen them so you wanna catch up.

after finishing your food, “la chona” starts playing and everyone goes berserk. once you throw away your empty plate, you and your cousins rush to the dance floor along with everyone else and dance.

while dancing, a young man approaches you with a gentle smile. he’s introduced as javier, son of one of your father’s friends. tall, dark brunette, quite fit but not too much, sweet and handsome. you two dance together as you talk and occasionally flirt. apparently, he’s a comedian because he’s been making you laugh every time he tells a joke or funny stories.

what you fail to notice from afar is a pair of brown angry eyes. watching your every move the entire evening. miguel never took his eyes off of you, only when someone was speaking directly to him. the minute you stepped foot into the backyard, his pupils dilated and heart raced in his chest. how gorgeous you look that cute dress and tus botas. watching you dance for a bit finally gave him the courage to join you until that idiot waltzed in. his grip on his moledo tightened when javier wraps an arm around your waist and pull you closer towards him. his grip was so tight, miguel almost broke it in his fucking hand. a sting of jealousy and slight possessiveness bubbles in his chest. a huge frown on his face. oh he is pissed the fuck off. he didn’t like this encounter one bit.

after drinking lots of water and jamaica (drink), nature calls. quickly telling javier you’ll be back, you make a beeline for the house then the bathroom upstairs. luckily, no one’s in the house so it’s empty inside. after doing your business and washing your hands, you fix your appearance. detangling your hair and patting down any creases on your dress.

a subtle knock on the door makes you jump a little. “just give me a minute!” you call out nervously.

it truly caught you off guard. there’s a bathroom downstairs but perhaps it’s occupied too. there’s the master bathroom but supposed people don’t want to invade your parents’ privacy.

you finish fixing your appearance so the next person doesn’t have to keep waiting. just as you unlock and open the door, a gasp left your lips.

“miguel? what the fuck?”

the man stands before you. however, his sour expression captures your attention. you don’t have time to say anything else when he silently enters the bathroom, causing you to step back. he close the door behind him, his gaze never leaves yours. anxiety consumes your body at the sudden proximity. the hallway bathroom is quite small, leaving barely any room left for you to step back.

“miguel, what the fuck are you doing?”

“you seem having fun tonight.”

your brows furrowed. “it’s a party, of course i’m having fun.” you cross your arms.

“a little too much fun.” he takes one step closer.

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“ese pinche huevón who’s been probably telling you shitty jokes or whatever.” he takes another step.

javier. why the hell is he talking about him?

“you’re spying on me?! what the fuck, miguel? what’s wrong with you? what’s your problem?”

“my problem?” miguel’s frown deepens. “that fucking idiot had the fucking nerve to come up to you, dance and flirt with you like that.” he takes a step closer with each phrase.

you flinch when your back hits the wall. now miguel stands right in front of you. bodies merely touching, barely any space between you two. his hot breath hitting your face, or forehead due to the height difference. you have to crane your neck all the way up just to meet his gazes. your heart pounds in anticipation, lashes fluttering.

holy shit, he’s jealous.

“so you’re telling you have a thing for me this entire and decided to wait until i was with another guy?” you were half assumed and surprised.

his pissed off demeanor falters a little, softening up a bit. “y-yes…” miguel admits shamelessly, broad shoulders slumped a little. “i wanted to tell you but you hate me so much and refused to talk to me so i didn’t really have the perfect chance.”

you huff, shaking your head. “of course i hate you because you’re a fucking asshole. always throwing smartass remarks or insults at me.”

“i wasn’t insulting you, or at least i wasn’t my intention.” miguel frowns. “i was teasing because i like you, chiquita.” he said softly.

oh your heart did a summersault.

“seriously?” you were surprised wholeheartedly.

miguel scoffs, rolling his eyes with a smile. “que si, tonta. i’ve liked you since the moment i met you, catching that big box you almost dropped.”

you cringe at the memory. if only you knew how stupid you looked carrying that big ass heavy box. if only you knew he was watching.

“and i know you like me too.” miguel leans closer.

“it’s a mixture of infatuation and hatred.”

“see, infatuation.” he smirks smugly.

“don’t push it, cabrón.” you glare at him.

miguel lowly chuckles, amused by your sassy attitude. his eyes drop to your lips. glossy and begging for his. “do you know how many times i wanted to kiss those pretty lips but knew i couldn’t?”

your heart flutter at that confession. you wanted to say the same about his lips or wished he did kiss you but you decide to tease him.

“that’s too bad you couldn’t.” you fake pout, tilting your head in a teasing manner. “i was thinking the same with javi.” a smirk graces your lips.

you watch his brows furrowed immediately. that seductive look replaced with a pissed off one. his jaw clenches at the name of that guy.

damn, jealous looks so good on him.

“he’s so sweet and very attractive. a great dancer and has very kissable lips.” your smirk grows smugly.

there was no time to reaction when miguel grabs the back of your head, pulls you against him and smashes his lips on yours. you can’t resist smiling at his eagerness as you both endure in a messy makeout session. his lips devour yours with such hunger, basically eating your face off.

your arms reach up to his shoulders and wrap around them, standing on your tippy toes due to the height difference. miguel’s back is slightly bent so he can reach you but doesn’t give a shit if it hurts. both his hands travel down to your waist and pull you closer so there isn’t any space left between you two.

broad hands roam over your back, groping each curve. you melt under his addictive touch, becoming putty in his hold. you gasp when he lifts you up in his arms, grabbing the back of your thighs. your grip on his shoulders tighten instinctively. miguel plants you on the sink and settles himself in between your legs.

his lips trail down to your jawline then in the crook of your neck. you dig your fingers into his brown curls while the other hand wrapped around his thick neck. your eyes closed, relishing those kisses on your neck. a gasp left your lips when you feel his lips sucking that sensitive spot on your neck.

his hands fiddle with the top strings of your dress that conceals your breasts. after leaving a mark on your neck, which he smiles satisfyingly at, miguel trails down to your chest. he quickly glances at you for approval and you eagerly nod. untying the strings, miguel dives into your cleavage. leaving hot open-mouth kisses on the soft skin. his hands cupping and kneading your breasts. a soft moan escapes your lips at the sensation. throwing your head back, resting against the mirror. you take off his hat so you can play with his hair, tossing it on the toilet seat. he kisses, licks, and kneads your covered breasts with such desire and affection. he lets out a muffled groan when your fingers tug on his hair.

miguel moves down your body, leaving a trail of adoring kisses on the fabric of your dress. grinning at how your body sweetly responds to him. just as he reaches down to the one place where you desperately want him, he moves away and stands up.

“aww…” miguel mischievously chuckles at your pout and pissed off expression. “you thought you’d get what you want, huh bebita?” he brings a hand to your chin and lightly tilts it upward to meet his eyes.

“asshole.” you scowl, swatting his hand away.

“ay bebita, no hagas asi.” he taunts with a head tilt. “you were drooling about that huevón a few seconds ago. don’t you want him?”

you glare at him and he laughs, completely unbothered by it. oh you want to slap that stupid smirk off his devilish handsome face.

“es la verdad, hermosa. don’t you want him here instead of me?” his fingers lightly brush against your exposed thigh, sending jolts of excitement through your body. the hem of your dress scrunched up a bit.

you know he knows the answer. of course he’s fucking teasing you about this.

“i’m going to rip your balls off.” you threaten.

the bastard chuckles. “i don’t think you wanna do that if you want me.” very slowly, his fingers trail up your thigh, more towards your inner thigh. he chuckles again when your legs twitch at his touch.

“fine, fuck this shit.” you move to jump off the counter but his hands firmly hold you in place.

“ay bebita, you’re so stubborn.” miguel coos, gently tracing your cheek with the back of his index finger. “i’ll give you what you want—“

“ay no me jodas, miguel! just fucking touch me.” grabbing the back of his neck, you yank him towards you and smash your lips on his.

the movement caught him by surprise but indulges in it. his fingers trail up your inner thigh, sliding under your dress. you softly gasp when you feel his fingers gently rubbing your cunt through your panties.

“fuck— estas mojada, bebita.” miguel groans at the feeling of your soaked panties, all because of him. the pad of his fingers rubbing your covered pussy lips. he feels himself grow hard in his jeans.

his fingers slyly slide under your panties and play with your little cunt. a soft moan leaves your lips when he rubs your throbbing clit. fingers rubbing and flicking almost experimentally.

“you want me?” he whispers against your lips as his continues playing with your clit.

“fuck, yes~” you moan, cupping his face.

your lips collided again in a heated kiss as miguel slowly slides in two fingers in your pretty little pussy. you moan a bit louder in pitch at the sensitive before his other hand covers your mouth.

“as much as i want to hear those pretty sounds, can’t let anyone hear.” miguel whispers, a mix of seductiveness and sincerity. the last thing he wants is getting caught in your house.

he pumps his fingers at a slow pace. endless moans falling from your lips but muffled. fuck his fingers are so thick and long. they feel so fucking good.

“fuck, so tight, bebita.” he groans when your walls clench around his fingers. “driving me fucking insane, how you clench around my fingers like that.”

his fingers soon pick up pace. thrusting in and out of your tight cunt. instinctively, you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. desperate for more. miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck as he continues fingering you. you have one arm wrapped around his shoulders while leaning on the other, gripping the ledge of the counter for dear life.

you squeal when his thumb flickers your puffy clit as his two fingers continue pumping into you. your walls clench harder around his fingers.

“you’re gonna forget about that pinche huevón and think about me, si hermosa?” he asks, lips against your ear. “porque you want me, verdad? because i want you.” he states wholeheartedly.

you nod while being a babbling and moaning mess. miguel leaves kisses on your neck as he keeps pumping his fingers into you. with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a muffed moan. gushing over his fingers, coating them in your sweetness.

very slowly, he slides out his fingers from your now sensitive pussy. you lean back against the mirror as you try catching your breath and recover from your high but his hand on your waist prevents you from slumping completely. miguel examines his two fingers glistening in your sweet nectar. two clear strings connect between them as he spreads them apart. he brings them up to his lips, licking off your sweetness. a moan of satisfaction.

“sweet, just like i imagined.” he hums contently.

grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper, miguel gently cleans up the mess in between your thighs.

“you okay?” he asks sincerely, tossing the toilet paper in the trash while his free hand gently moves away strings of hair from your face.

“yeah, never better.” you let out a weak laugh.

miguel smiles at your cute little laugh then gently kisses you, which you happily reciprocate. one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your thigh.

a ding! from your phone breaks the kiss. grabbing it next to you and looking at the screen, you see a text from your mom asking your whereabouts.

“gotta go before my mom flips out.” you chuckle.

“understandable.” miguel chuckles with you as he gently lifts you off the counter by the waist and carefully sets you on your feet.

you quickly glance down at your phone then at the huge bulge in his jeans. “sorry…” you shoot him an apologetic look.

miguel shakes his head with a soft smile. “no te procupes, bebita. maybe next time.” he winks as he helps you fix your dress.

you swat his arm and he laughs as you both exit the bathroom to rejoin the party.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

a forbidden romance between you and miguel blossomed. however, there were suspicions. conchata knew the minute she caught miguel staring at you from afar numerous times. it makes her smile to see her son falling in love. she knows you’re a good woman and treats you like her own. you’re perfect for her son. gabriel knows as well, he has seen the intense encounters between you and miguel. arguing and brickering but also longing gazes when one isn’t looking. he would give miguel shit and tease him all the time. suppose all that teasing finally paid off.

your mom is like conchata and every other mother. adored to see her daughter falling in love despite the tension between you and miguel. carlos was skeptical at first but accepts it because he knows miguel is a good man. your father, on the other hand, isn’t too thrilled of the idea. it’s not that miguel isn’t a good person but because he’s a known womanizer. your dad has seen the various women swinging by miguel, flirting and battering their lashes at him. he doesn’t want you to fall victim into lies. that’s why he’s been a bit harsh towards miguel lately.

although you’re unaware of everyone’s suspicions, you and miguel keep it very secretive. sneaking off to secluded places like the stables. have heavy makeout sessions, miguel fingering you. unfortunately, things couldn’t get spicer without almost getting caught or someone calling your name.

one day when your parents were gone into town, miguel sneaked you into his truck. he parked in a secluded area on the outskirts of the ranch.

“miguel, we can’t do this. what if they’re looking for us?” you can’t resist giggling as his lips leave butterfly kisses along your neck. you sit on his lap, straddling him in the backseat of his truck. both of you shirtless, you remain in your bra.

“your parents are out and won’t be back for a while. besides, gabriel and carlos got us covered.” his large hands roam over your body.

“miguel!” you swat his shoulder, giggling.

“¿que paso, bebita? they’ll let us know when your parents come back, lo prometo.” he continues those kisses among your neck.

you sigh softly, trusting him with your heart. you grow putty in his hold like always. his large lands roaming your body. your lips meet in a passionate kiss. your hands cupping his face. the tips of his fingers fiddle with the hem of your white skirt. you assume he wants to do the usual but the pleading look in those browns eyes say otherwise.

“do you… do you wanna do this?” he asks anxiously, eyes boring into yours.

you know immediately what he’s asking.

“yes.” you nod sincerely, caressing his cheeks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna pressure you.”

your heart melts at his caring words. “si, bebito. i trust you and i want this.” you wrap your arms around his thick neck. “i want you.”

fuck. that’s all he needs to hear before worshipping the goddess you are. miguel captures your lips in another kiss. his fingers slide underneath your skirt not only to make you cum first but also to prep you.

after making you cum over his fingers twice, you were prepped enough. miguel hurriedly reaches a hand in his front pocket and pulls out a condom. he rips the tiny packet with his teeth. the sight makes you bite your lip. you follow suit by lifting up your skirt as he yanks out his aching cock from its confinements. the tip angry and red, desperate to be inside you. he rolls the condom over his cock. a shared moan mingles in the air as you slowly sink onto his cock. you grip tightly on his shoulders as support. his own gripping your hips.

“breathe, bebita.” he advises in a soft tone.

fuck he’s so big. when you first got a glimpse of it, you believed it was impossible for it to fit. of course it’ll be hard to take him. his soothing rubs on your thighs relaxes you a little as you try adjusting to his size. any “stop” or “wait” convinced him to pull out but you told him. just need time to adjust.

once you had time to adjust, you couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeing of being utterly full. he’s so deep inside, you can feel him in your tummy.

you both moan in unison as you slowly roll your hips. you move up and down in a slow pace, riding his cock. fuck he feels so amazing.

“fuck— asi, bebita. ride me.” he praises so sweetly.

you oblige, riding him. you didn’t save a horse but you’ll definitely ride a cowboy.

miguel soon picks up the pace due to your pleading for him to go faster. rolling his hips to meet yours. hands gripping your hips, your skirt brunched up in his fingers as his cock pounds into your tight little cunt. moans and groans mingles in the steamy air. the windows begin to fog up. miguel throws his head back against the seat, relishing the feeling of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. he’s practically going insane at the sensation.

self-resistance flies out the window as miguel quickly turns you both over. you lie down on the seat and he hovers above you as miguel continues thrusting into you. your hands grip onto his back, nails leaving scratch marks and crescent indents, eliciting a groan from the man above you. miguel doesn’t give a shit. in fact, he loves the idea of seeing your scratch marks when looking at his reflection. it’s a reminder of you and your love for him.

due to his rough thrusts, the truck shakes. luckily, the area is secluded. miguel groans when your fluttering walls clench around his thick length.

“shit— you clenching like that is driving me insane, bebita.” miguel moans.

you can’t even response since you’re a babbling mess underneath him. the bulbous tip of his cock repeatedly hits your cervix, making you arch your back off the seat like waves.

miguel can’t help but smirk at your trembling form. brows scrunched up and mouth letting out the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. a literal angel underneath him. one hand reaches down in between your bodies and flickers your puffy clit. you let out a squeal at the sudden sensation, arching your back off the seat for the millionth time.

“let go, mi vida. i got you.” he coos in your ear.

with a few more flicks to your clit, you come with a loud cry of his name. coating his condom covered cock with your sweetness. oh that sight is forever imbedded in his mind. how beautifully you sang out his name as you each the pinnacle of ecstasy.

miguel soon followed suit. his hips stutter before letting out a groan as he releases thick hot ropes of cum into the condom. secretly wishing it was your pussy but protection comes first. his thrusts slow down, riding out both your highs before stopping. he buries his face beside yours, panting against your ear as you both recover from your highs.

after a few minutes of recovery, miguel lifts up onto his elbows and looks down at you. “you okay? did i hurt you?” he voice his concerns, gently moving away strings of hair sticked to your forehead.

“no.” you shake your head. “i’m okay.”

he softly smiles at your answer. worries washed away. leaning closer, miguel captures your lips in soft, gentle kiss. “té quiero.”

“té quiero.” you softly smile at him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

your parents decide to head to town again to buy some stuff. carlos left to meet up with some chick he met at a bailé the other night. that means you’re left alone, which also means miguel comes over.

you both makeout on your bed. hands roaming each other’s bodies. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you feel his lips pepper your neck with kisses, playing with his hair. that’s going to be the hundredth hickey he has left on you. the amount of concealer you applied on the dark mark so your family doesn’t notice says a lot. neck, breasts, inner thighs. marking you endlessly and making you feel like a dalmatian.

“que linda eres.” miguel mumbled against your soft skin, lips peppering adoring kisses.

a gasp leaves your lips as you feel large hands squeezing your breasts. “miguel~ my parents will be back soon.” you whine then followed by a giggle, tugging on his curls to gain his attention.

“the marketplace is packed. they’ll be gone for a while so we have time.” he kisses your worries away.

you softly sigh as miguel travels down to your breasts and makes out with them. calloused hands kneading them through your dress.

“my favorite pillows.” miguel mumbled between kisses and licks on the soft mounds. his fingers spread the opening of the top of your dress to gain more access to your cleavage.

“you act like they don’t hurt because of your big ass head.” you deadpan, still playing with his hair.

“well, that’s why i massage them.”

you can’t see him from this angle but you know he has the biggest smirk on his face. the thought makes you lightly slap his head, earning a chuckle from him.

those adoring kisses trail down to your tummy then back up your body towards your face before your lips collide once again. as his hand slwoly trails down towards your inner thigh, scrunching up the hem of your dress, the sound of the door opening cause you both to jump in surprised. miguel hurriedly lifts off from the bed. your eyes land at the opened door to find your parents with shocked expressions. your father face is red of anger, profoundly pissed off.

“te mato.” he glares towards miguel. fists fidgeting at his sides but never makes a move.

“papá, pro favor—“

“no me hablas.” he points a finger at you, sending the same glare then looks back at miguel. “i trusted you with this ranch. with this home and you betrayed that with taking an advantage con mi hija.”

“papá, no! please—“

“señor, i’ve never took advantage of your daughter or your trust. i respect and love your daughter with everything.” miguel defends himself.

you watch your father’s eyes narrow at miguel’s words. “you don’t truly love my daughter if you allow other women to chase after you.”

both yours and miguel’s heart drop at that accusation. anxiety invades your body. you whip your head at miguel with a shocking expression. he meets your gaze with the same expression but also a look of hurt. your heart breaks at the sight. you know it isn’t true but your heart says otherwise.

miguel looks at you with remorseful eyes then looks back at your father. “pro favor, señor. none of those rumors are true. i walk away from those women, they never leave me alone. the only woman i want is your daughter.” he states sincerely.

a pregnant pause fills the room. the tension lingers in the air. you watch as your father exhales heavily then takes a step towards miguel.

“you’re banned from this house and ranch.” he states through gritted teeth. “and you’re banned from speaking to my daughter. if i ever catch you near her, té mato. entiendes?”

miguel briefly looks down with a frown. shoulders slumped in defeat and frustration. much to your and his dismay, he agrees with a nod. your heart breaks, tears swelling in your eyes. grabbing his hat from the bed, miguel shoots a brief sad glance at you before exiting your bedroom, walking past your parents.

“y tú…” your father turns to you. “you don’t leave this house.” and with that, he walks away.

you collapse on the floor and break down into tears. the wall broke and the waterfall fell. your mother swiftly comes to your aid and pulls you into a tight, comforting embrace. you weep into her shoulder as you cry out your broken heart.

two hearts broke that day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

she knew something happened.

the minute her eldest stepped foot into the house and stomped his way upstairs to his room without greeting her meant something was wrong. conchata knows her children well like most mothers do. she has her assumptions but rather know the truth.

with a sigh, she placed down the knife and heads upstairs to consult with her eldest son. she leaves a subtle knock on the door.

“mijo? estas bien?” she knew he wasn’t but she hopes he’ll allow her entry.

no answer.

she frowns but her concern increases. “mijo, if there’s something wrong, you can tell me.”

footsteps past by behind her. turning around, she sees her youngest walking by.

“do you know what’s wrong con tú hermano?”

he shakes his head. “no, he walked passed me at the ranch without saying anything.”

she frowns once again as gabriel heads towards the bathroom. glancing back at the door, she lets out another sad sigh before walking away.

later that evening, miguel finally makes his appearance. as she prepares the table with food, conchata noticed her son walking in.

“mijo, qué paso? did something happen?”

he remains silent but helps her with preparing the table. his face lacks of emotion, or at least lacks of his normal content self. mouth flat and tired eyes.

“miguel, por favor, dijeme.” the woman pleads. “is this about her?”

now he finally speaks.

“i’m banned from their ranch.”

conchata’s heart stops for a moment. “banned? como?” she sounds in disbelief but also concern.

his head hangs low, refusing to meet her gaze. “su papá doesn’t approve of me.”

now she feels heart drop. “doesn’t approve you? como que he doesn’t approve my son? you’ve worked so hard helping him at his ranch. he has lost his damn mind ese pinche cabrón.”

“he doesn’t approve me para su hija!”

now conchata is speechless but still in disbelief. “pero… you like each other…”

“pues el no le gusta porque he thinks i flirt with lots of women and believes i took an advantage of his daughter. believes i don’t love her.”

fury boils in her blood for your father to say such vile things about her son. but also heartbroken to see miguel so upset. she’s aware of his unpleasant encounters with idiot women so throw themselves at him, making him feel uncomfortable. it makes her want to give putasos con la chancla for bothering her son. she also feels for you too. understanding the dealing with heartbreak. of course someone gets in the way of true love. always a misunderstanding.

“ese cabrón knows nothing of my son.” she states firmly. “i know my own son and he’s nothing like those pinches mentiras. you’re a good man and have a good heart. i know you love her and she loves you. as much as i want to go beat that man con la chancla,” that elicits a chuckle from miguel. “i don’t want bloodshed between families because they’re good people and have been kind to us.”

the tension eases a bit on his shoulders. pleased to hear his mother’s supportive words.

“i know heartbreak isn’t easy, mijo… pero she’s a smart girl and she, and su mamá, will talk some sense into that man. it may take some time but don’t give up hope, her.” she gently takes his hands in hers.

the corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile. “yo sé, gracias mamá.” he pulls her into an embrace.

“siempre, mijo.” she hugs him back.

miguel wasn’t giving up on you. no, never. all he wants in his life is you. he’s willing to do whatever it takes to show his love for you. hoping it’ll change your father’s mind about your relationship.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

you don’t even know what day it is. you’ve been cooped up in your room since you’re not allow to leave the house. each day has been filled with tears and anger. tears stains on your pillows are proof of the heartbreak. your mom had to change them twice because of your mascara stains on them. anger boiling in your veins. pissed off at your father’s insane behavior about this shitshow. your mom and carlos have been comforting you. your mom soothing your broken heart with hugs and forehead kisses. carlos also gives hugs and tells his stupid ass jokes.

your father hasn’t spared a glance at you since the argument, as if you don’t exist. it hurts since you’ve always been his little girl. it hurts he disrespected miguel with those hurtful lies. it hurts he stripped your experience of love away from you.

besides moping and crying, the only things keeping you occupied is watching tv, scroll on your phone, draw or paint, listen to music, and sleep. your dad really meant not leaving the house because you can’t even visit the stables to greet the horses. your only source of happiness during this period of misery and imprisonment is lola. she’ll join you on the bed when you take naps. play with her, tossing toys at her.

it’s just been so fucking miserable.

the only chance you’ll get to see miguel is whenever he’s outside. you sit by your window and observe him working on his family ranch. you know he knows you’re watching him. god you miss him so fucking much. his kisses, his hugs, his voice, his hands.

you can’t text or call him since your dad deleted his contact off your phone when you left your phone in room behind when you visited the kitchen one day. at least he didn’t delete gabriel’s so you had some type of method to keep in contact with miguel. you’ll text gabriel, asking how his brother is doing. upset and frustrated were what you were expecting.

the love of your life stripped away from your heart by the hands of your father. how fucking sad that is.

you want to make him understand but the man is stubborn as hell and believes his opinion is the only relevant opinion. you understand your mom’s frustration with your dad after years of marriage.

you need to make him understand.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

your growling tummy sends you downstairs to retrieve a snack. heading for the kitchen, you see your parents talking. your mom preparing for tonight’s dinner while your dad drinks a glass of water. he must’ve returned from the ranch.

a wave of determination courses through your veins. you’re fed up with this nonsense and imprisonment. he has to respect your wishes and life. although you’re his youngest and only daughter, you’re a grown woman. you have your own goals, wishes, desires for your life. he can’t strip that away from you. this is your life and he needs to understand.

“papá.” you stand near the kitchen island.

the man turns around and sees you. a frown settles on his face. “¿qué quieres?”

your fists tightened. “this needs to stop.”

his frown deepens. “ya te dije que no.”

“this is ridiculous!” you exclaim with your hands in the air. “you can’t ground me for falling in love! especially with someone who’s a good person!”

“he is not a good person.” he sets the now empty glass of water down on the counter with a bit of aggressiveness. luckily it didn’t break. “ese huevón flirts with a bunch of women behind your back. you can’t love someone if they lie to you.”

“he doesn’t flirt with them, papá! those women flirt with him!” you cry, making him go silent. “they throw themselves at him and it makes him uncomfortable. women twice his age! he tries to be polite and tell them he’s not interested. he already told me about this.” a thin layer of tears forms up in your eyes. “he said he’ll never betray me, never break my heart because he loves me, papí.”

your father only remained speechless. your mother too, who stopped cooking since you spoke.

“being with miguel, i’ve never been so happy. he makes me so happy.” you smile sadly. “yours and mom’s relationship is what i’ve been seeking for. being together for many years, spending the rest of your lives together. i found that with miguel. he’s the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.”

a sorrowful look in his eyes. your mom is on the verge of tears, happy tears of course. she couldn’t be more proud of you, defending yourself and miguel.

“please don’t take that away from me.”

the crack in your voice makes him wince. the anger now vanished, replaced with sorrow and regret. seeing his little girl on the verge of tears breaks his heart into a million pieces like any other parent.

“i… lo siento, mi cielo.” he covers his mouth with a hand. sighing as regret plagues his body. “i’m so sorry… i didn’t mean…” the next few words died when he feels you arms around his body, embracing him.

“yo sé, papí. yo sé.” you whisper.

he accepts your embrace, not wasting a second. “i was just protecting you from heartbreak. i couldn’t bare to you see like that.”

“i know.” you sniffed, smiling a little.

“but i was wrong about him… ay dios, all those things i said. now what you told me…”

“he’ll forgive you.” you pull away, softly smiling. “miguel knows you were protecting me.”

he nods sadly. “still, i need to apologize to him. lo siento mucho, mija.”

“it’s okay, papí. thank you.” you hug him one last time before your mothers joins you both.

it was going to be okay.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ 𓂃 ₊ ୧ 𓂃

your father apologized to miguel. he immediately accepted because he understood your father’s reasons. the apology concluded with a hand shake before your dad pulls miguel into an embrace. everyone was pleased the shitshow was over. conchata also accepted your father’s apology. no bloodshed was made. just two happy families.

the words “son-in-law” accidentally slipped through your dad’s lips and it made you and miguel flustered a little. it was pleasing to know your dad was envisioning a future of the family including miguel.

afterwards, you and miguel finally pursue this relationship without fear. opened to the world.

riding in his truck, you drive to the beach. windows down and the hot summer breeze flowing through your hair. parked in the same secluded spot from previous times, you and miguel share a little intimate moment. lips connected in a passionate kiss.

with one final kiss, miguel sucking your bottom lip, he slowly pulls away to admire you. eyes filled with adoration, simply and only for you.

“té quiero tanto, mi alma.”

you softly smile. “té quiero tanto, mi vaquero.”

little did you know five years later you and miguel would have a ranch and family of your own. a daughter who’s an exact replica of her father. like your parents, you and miguel spend the rest of your lives together. like true soulmates.

◟ ࣪⠀ׅ ♱⠀𝓝ote. this is probably one of best fics i’ve written imo. holy shit the creative flow was flowing with this, lowkey proud of it. this is most definitely one of my favorites.

#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀𝒪𝑛𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑡⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #across the spiderverse

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cheonstapes · 1 year ago

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Can we get nerdy!Miguel x reader who doesn't treat him badly? Cause I read you fics and know for a fact I could not be that mean to miggy! How submissive he is and then reader is so rude to him!!

miguel o’hara stars in… “SILK N’ SATIN” ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

a/n ~ hi, i’m back!!!!! tysm for your request 🩷🩷 i love writing soft things so this was so cute🤗 it’s a little short but it’s sweet!

summary; soft lovin with your nerdy boyfie. 🩷

pairing; nerd!miguel o’hara x rich!fem!reader

wc; 400+

cw; SMUT!! FLUFF!!, soft sex, vanilla, breeding (hehehe), cute, they’re in love your honour!, aftercare, nawt proofread - this boy left me on delivered for like a week now im gonna kms.

(also, please lmk if putting the desc in superscript is hard to read! i will change it back for you.)

“You doing ok, baby? Think you can keep going for me?”

Miguel’s body was decorated with sweat, tanned skin reddening from the heat between the two of you. His hips stuttered into your slick heat as he coated your walls with another bucketload of his thick cum. “Y-Yeah…yeah, ‘m fine — not done yet, mommy.”

Pulling back and slamming back into you again, stringing out whiny moans and grunts from his lips and breathy pants from your own. Your precious baby was always so persistent, so eager to please — even when he feels like he’s about to be shooting blanks, he still makes sure his gorgeous mommy is squirting and coating his cock.

“So, so good, baby — my pretty boy.” And you were just so sweet, he could do no wrong in your eyes. Your arms wrapped around his neck to have better access to his ear, kissing the skin around it softly as you whispered sweet praises to him. The soft hands that caressed the taut muscles of his back made him arch into your touch, forcing his leaky tip deeper into you.

The garbled noises coming from Miguel were uncontrollable, the words dripped from his lips as he fucked himself stupid — hands shyly making their way up to your soft hips, squeezing the fat as he felt your gummy walls clench tightly around him. “Fuuuckkk — I love you…love you so much!” Miguel’s hips were pulled tightly against yours, him cum spurting out in thick streams — a creamy ring forming at his base.

Your pretty eyes were rolled back, the feeling of being filled up sending flutters in your tummy. “Thank…fuck — Mm, thank you, Miggy.” Gently pulling him out of you, earning a soft hiss from his lips, you laid him down on his back. Miguel couldn’t move, his legs feeling like jelly as his spent cock twitched and jerked against his thighs. He was so cute like this. “You hungry? I’ll make you your favourite, sweetie.” You came back into the room with a warm rag and a glass of water, handing him the glass as you ran the damp cloth over his body.

Miguel’s body relaxed, letting out soft sighs as you cleaned him up. “Nah, I just… I just want you.” The cloth was left on the bedside table as you crawled back on top of him, pulling the covers over your sweaty bodies — wrapping yourself around him from behind. Pressing soft kisses along the back of his neck, hands playing with the matching rings you bought on his finger — “You have me then. Always.” Resting his head on your bare chest, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

The love you two felt for each other ascended the dynamic you shared in bed, the pure connection beyond comprehension for the ones around you. You loved your little nerd, and he loved you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

-9024 kick that drum, MY EGOS IN THIS SHOW!! (hip thrust)

#cheonstapes #cheonsshowreals 🤍#miguel ohara x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #astv miguel #nerd miguel #nerd miguel smut #miguel o hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x you

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miguelswifey04 · 1 year ago

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~•C.AI ATSV BOTS LIST•~

c.ai bot request google form

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

ミ★ miguel o’hara likes you for awhile now and he can’t help himself around you. he comes to terms with his feelings for and he’ll make it known that he likes you. it is up to you if you’ll accept his feelings or reject him!

✧🜚 miguel o’hara tries to save you from you falling off a building from your demise as you were knocked unconscious by an anomaly. you quite literally pulled a gwen stacy on him.the mission goes south…will he be able to save you? it is up to you

𖨆𒊹︎ miguel o’hara is a very famous basketball player who plays for the webber’s for nueva york! you’re in a secret relationship with him as he keeps you away from the spotlight. you’re fed up with being kept as a secret so you talk to him about making the relationship exclusive. will he listen to you or not?

ఌꨄ miguel o’hara is a rich geneticist who works for alchemax and also a sugar daddy. he’s a billionaire so he’s loaded with $$$, and you’re just a broke college student desperate for money. miguel wants to spoil the perfect sugar baby as he’s very wealthy yet lonely. you come across his profile and both miguel and you click. you both decide to meet each other at a restaurant in NYC. what will happen next? will he make you his sugar baby?

☹︎㋛ miguel o’hara and you just lost your precious daughter, gabriella. miguel became cold and bitter even angrier and you became a recluse, a homebody. your marriage may be in thin ice…both of you heartbroken over the lost of your daughter. will miguel be able to open up to you or not?

🜸🜚 miguel o’hara is a famous actor where the whole world has his eyes on him. he’s an a-list celebrity and well you are an aspiring and upcoming actor. you debuted in your first ever movie with miguel o’hara. you’re his co-star. luckily to you, the movie did numbers and made you become quite famous. the lines of acting and reality blur, and you and him seem to actually fall for each other! what happens next? who makes the move first?

ミ★ hobie brown as your boyfriend! you’re the only non-spider person who knows about his secret, him being spider punk.

✫彡 pavitr prabhakar had saved you from a building collapsing on top of you and ever since then you and him have stayed connected. after awhile that friendship blossomed into a relationship where now you and him are dating.

ミ★ miles morales and you are childhood besties! you both share everything together even your silly little secrets. you both attend the same high school together, but one day you go to visit him at his dorm room. you knocked waiting for him to open up but you didn’t hear anything so you opened the door…unbeknownst to you-you find out he’s spider-man?!?! how will he react?? how will you react?!

✫彡 spider-man noir is a private investigator and well a spider-man. you’re his personal assistant who assists him in all his cases and missions during the 1930s. his goal is to fight the bad guys and the n*zis. will you get even closer to him over time or not??

ミ★ the spot had taken you hostage taking you to god knows where!? he may look like a fool but don’t underestimate him. he’s a super villain and sadistic in a way. he torments you and such. you try your best to escape him, as your mission failed. what will you do? what will he do to you? will you be able to evade him and defeat him once and for all??

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

a/n: i take requests <3 much love 💗

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runa-falls · 1 year ago

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scratches and bites - 3

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, use of demeaning names, biting/marking/scratching, use of venom, a small amount of blood, unprotected sex, creampie (whoops), cumplay (whoops 2x), slight size kink (whoops 3x), bondage (0-0), feelings (bleh), needy wittle miguel :P

a/n: uhhh, this may have gotten away from me -- went from 1k to 4k real fast (or slow bc i'm a slow writer hehe)

summary: miguel o'hara is a grumpy man and you make him grumpy. you regularly go against his orders, create chaos, and invite danger. this is what happens when he's had enough.

w/c: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

“Clean-up crew is on the way. You,” He points sharply in your direction, “come with me.” He roughly passes by you, purposely clipping the edge of your shoulder.

You sulk slightly and follow him into the portal, mood effectively ruined.

Everything worked perfectly in your eyes. You were able to save the family and a few people inside the building. You even had time to pick up a free hotdog.

“It’s on the house for you, Spider-Woman! Thanks for saving the day!”

“Aw, thanks, dude.”

Of course, before you could take a bite of your well-earned lunch, O’Hara’s hulking figure was standing over you. He’s angry.

Gwen wisely scurried off before you all got to the portal and Jess had better things to do than deal with whatever was going on between the two of you. So you’re effectively alone now. Great.

“The fuck did you think you were doing out there?” Miguel’s voice booms off the high ceilings of his office as he leads you toward his desk. He has this pretentiously slow platform that he loves to use to look down on people. You feel like a student that got called to the principal's office. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed–or worse, gotten someone else pulled into your fucking mess.”

You roll your eyes as soon as he passes, “Oh, come on O’Hara, you were about to bail on a car full of people and left a bunch of workers in the crumbling building because nothing is more important than your dumbass box of scraps and wires!”

He turns stiffly, jaw clenching at your words, but his eyes roam to anything else in the room but you. Like always. “You know we’ve been looking for that equipment for months. If we have any chance to hold back this multiverse annihilator even a few days, we’re gonna take it.” Miguel is as curt as ever, stance stiff as he tries to pretend he’s unaffected. Like he’s convincing himself he’s doing the right thing. And what you did was wrong.

“There were four of us out there, Miguel,” His eyes briefly meet yours at the sound of his given name. Something he has rarely heard you say since you’ve been in Nueva York. “The package was barely a struggle for one of us! You’re telling me we needed four hands to locate and retrieve that shit?” You gesture over to the crate resting on his computer platform.

He sighs like he’s tired of hearing your voice. Tired of being in the same room as you. His hand smooths over his face, “That’s not the point, Kid.” You could feel warmth blooming inside of your chest at his choice of words. It’s demeaning, and he knows it. As much as you hate him right now, you’re also loving this. You’re finally getting the chance to express all the frustration he’s inspired in you. And it’s satisfying to watch him get all wound up because you actually made the right move. He just can’t admit it.“What you did was beyond idiotic. You could’ve–”

“Well, I didn’t. And I’m not a fucking kid.” You spit out the words. His eyes immediately darken as you raise your voice. Bright cherry to rich blood.

Miguel rolls his shoulders back from annoyance and briefly closes his eyes. Irritated. You seem to always irritate him. His jaw is tight, and right under his full top lip you can almost make out– “What did I say about interrupting me?” He’s seething, head tilted slightly as pushes away from his desk and off the platform to you.

His deep voice is so low that you swear you can feel it surrounding you, vibrating the warm air that clings to the thin treads of your suit. “You’re so…” His fists clenched tightly and tension rolls off of him, crashing into you like a wave. “Difficult.” You try to stay brave and hold your head up, unwilling to cower under his superficial anger. “So fucking irritating.”

This is getting nowhere.

“So that’s why you called me in, hm?” Your voice comes out more breathless than you intended, but really, it’s his fault. This whole time he’s been inching closer and closer to you, taking up all your space. “To call me petty names? Tell me all the things that are wrong with me?” You have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him, he’s so close.

“No.” He drawls the word, his voice deep and muffled. Then you realize. His fangs. The stark change of the air in the room was enough to make your breath hitch. You suddenly feel trapped.

“I brought you here,” There are only a couple of inches separating your chest from touching his and you swear you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, almost simmering under his suit. “To teach you a lesson.” He leans down slightly, closing in the height distance between the two of you. You haven’t been this close to him since that night.

“W-what kind of lesson?”

“The kind that’ll persuade you to follow the rules.” Your knees nearly buckle as each word is lightly whispered next to your ear. He keeps his hands to himself, but it still feels like he’s wrapping himself around you. “To listen to me. Like a good girl.” Just as your body begins to mirror his and lean into his space, he backs up and strolls back to his desk.

Your eyes instantly lower and stay locked onto his spotless steel floors as you listen to him slowly walk away. You feel your face heat in embarrassment as you become more self-aware of the way your body reacted to him. He hadn’t even touched you.

“Come here.” Your head tilts up slightly at the sound of his voice. He’s sitting back on his desk chair, legs spread confident and inviting as he watches you watch him through hungry eyes. He can tell your mind is brimming with overlapping thoughts as you decide whether to listen to him or not.

Some part of you worries you’re being lured into a trap. That O’Hara, one of the least genuine people you know, is playing with you. But your body doesn’t really seem to care, already moving until your ankles meet the edge of the barely floating platform. The air around you is cool and empty without his presence. Your body craves more of Miguel’s natural heat.

“...Closer.” You shuffle over until you’re a couple of feet away, fingers twisting together with uncertainty. He’s looking at you, leering at you. Virtually devouring you with that scarlet stare of his. If he wanted, he could reach over and pull you closer, eliminating the space between you, but he decidedly doesn’t, clearly wanting you to come to him.

“Don’t worry, honey, I don’t bite – oh wait,” He grins at his own joke, fangs proudly poking out from under his plump lips. You don’t realize how hard you're biting your lip until it starts to seriously sting. Your teeth release your aching lip and his gaze follows the action before meeting your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.” You haven’t uttered a word in a while and you don’t really want to. You’re completely content to continue to soak in the words that slip from his tongue. “Do you?”

Yes.

“Do I…”

“...want me to bite you.” He openly runs his soft tongue over the contours of his fangs.

Yes.

“B-bite…?”

“Mhm. Make you all numb and pliant for me?” He finally reaches over and gently tugs you closer by your arm. You let him. “That what you want, hermosa?” Your body slots seamlessly in the space between his thighs. His face cradles perfectly into the crook of your neck. You sigh, subconsciously leaning closer as his tender lips hover sweetly over your covered throat.

He whispers, barely audible against your skin, “Promise it’ll only hurt for a second.”

Yes.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t waste any time.

A hand drifts up your arm to the flexible collar of your suit. He tugs it down lightly, revealing your bare skin to the cool air. It’s not enough for him. With a hushed tear, he uses a claw to split the fabric down to the top of your shoulder, giving him more access to your body. He pushes your hair back and nudges himself closer to you, nose nestling where your neck meets your shoulder. He breathes you in. “Sweet.” His voice barely carries with how soft he says it.

The balmy heat of his breath sweeps along the side of your neck before his lips finally connect. His hands trail against your waist, slowly caressing you as he slowly presses kisses into your skin, trailing his lips down until he finds the spot. You tilt your head to the side as you feel the light scratch of his fangs.

“Hold on to me, baby.” Your gloved hands grip his thick forearms. He bites down.

It hurts in the beginning like you thought it would. Like he said it would. You try to disguise your wince, but you can’t stop the way your body flinches at the sensation. It’s intense, the sharp pain, and it spreads, traveling down from your neck to your toes.

And then, something clicks. It vanishes. That ache gets replaced with an endless warmth that relaxes every muscle in your body. Your hands, once clenched around Miguel, begin to loosen so the only thing that’s holding you up is him.

Everything touching your skin feels amazing. The heat of his hands. The suit that's starting to slowly fall down your shoulder.

Your eyes glaze over with pleasure as you watch him pull away from your body to look at you. His tongue pokes out, swiping over his bottom lip to collect the mixture of residual venom and your blood. Are you bleeding? You lean closer and your hands reach out for his shoulders.

“That good, hm?” Even his voice feels good.

You use his solid form to keep you steady as you boldly crawl onto his lap, “Really, really, good.” He hums and you feel his chest vibrate against yours. His arms easily wrap around your form as he waits patiently for you to get comfortable on top of him.

In this moment you realize how this will change everything. And you’re not talking about the bit.-- Ok, not just the bite.

It’s seeing him like this that flips your world. Feeling his touch. The gentle way he holds you against him and the patient way he lets your fingers trail down his strong chest until you’ve decided you’ve had enough. He makes you feel special. Wanted. Everything that you’ve craved since you followed him here. The same thing he offered you before taking it away.

So you’re scared. You don’t know if you could ever let this go because you know you’ll always yearn for moments like this. If he pushes you away again…

The fog in your head dissipates and it’s like you’re waking up. You catch his eye and his brows furrow. He senses something’s wrong. His hand cradles yours and gives you a comforting squeeze.

“What is it?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“What do you mean?” His eyes are sincere as they try to read your crestfallen expression.

“Just…” You exhale slowly and rest your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t do this then walk away, Miguel.” Your words hang in the air for a few seconds as he takes them in.

Great, you ruined the mood. “Look, Miguel, I–” He softly lifts your head and leans in to press his forehead against yours. You’re so close he could probably feel your eyelashes brush against his cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He draws you in and kisses you deeply, taking your breath away with his tender touch. It feels like a promise like he’s signing the dotted line of your heart. “I’m yours.” It’s whispered against your lips when he pulls back and you can help the grin that sprouts from his words. He matches it.

“Yeah?”

You’re pulled back in, “Mhm…” Muffled, but absolute.

Kissing Miguel is exactly how you imagined it to be: addictive.

Maybe it’s the residual venom left on his tongue, but the way he moves against you, mouth and body, makes your legs tremble. Makes you ache for him.

You melt against him, drunk on his taste and leaning in for more. His hands go from cradling your face and delicately tracing your neck to massaging your thighs, hands practically draping over you with the size difference.

He delicately licks into your mouth, greedily taking in every aspect of your taste. Your lips vibrate excitingly when his tongue brushes against them, they’re super sensitive from how long he’s been working them.

You feel him under you, nestled achingly against your ass. He throbs eagerly every time you let out a breathless sigh or a muffled moan. You’re no better. You swear you already have a wet spot ruining your suit from all the times he ‘accidentally’ grips his claws into the curve of your hips.

You whimper quietly when you feel the sharp point of his fang drags ever so slightly across your bottom lip. As he moves downwards, it delicately tugs at it, briefly revealing the bottom row of your teeth before releasing it. He moves his mouth along the line of your jaw and then focuses on the sensitive bite he left to bloom red and purple on your neck.

With his hands back on your waist, he starts to lick up the small droplets of blood that were staining trails down your shoulder. It stings wonderfully as he laves against it, cleaning the red off your smooth skin. You can’t help but to cry out as he begins to suck at your sensitive skin, it’s a bit more intense than you were expecting, but it feels really good. He blows cool air on it when he releases your skin, soothing the new mark he’s left on you.

His mouth is back on yours, letting you taste your own blood as your tongues intermingle with fervor. Fingers tug at the front of your suit to pull you impossibly closer as your teeth nash against one another. You hear a faint rip between you as his grip tightens and pulls at the stretchy material. Your skin quickly reacts as the cool air wraps around you, arms prickling with goosebumps and nipples tightening into hard buds.

You both pull back and look down at the damage. Your suit is split down the middle of your torso, revealing everything from your heaving chest to your belly button. Your body ignites with heat when you notice how his crimson eyes drink you in. A soft growl vibrates from his chest.

“Miguel, this is the only suit I have.”

“My bad.” Zero remorse in his voice. Asshole.

He abruptly grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind you with one hand causing you to arch your back, inevitably giving him a better look. “God, you’re sexy.” His other hand slowly molds over your waist and smooths it upwards to grasp your tit with a playful squeeze. Using his gloved thumb, he teases the soft peak of your nipple, flicking it once just to hear you gasp. He does it once more, grinning (with his fangs cutely poking out) when you react the same way.

“Miguel…” You whine out, pouting at his teasing.

He idly drags his claws down your stomach, enjoying the way your breath hitches when he gets closer to your center. “You always go without a bra under there?”

“It’s a tight suit.”

“It is…” His hand trails down to your inner thigh and you shift slightly, leaning back so he can touch exactly where you need him. He gets the hint and gently cups you over your damp suit. “And here…?”

Your bottom lip tucks into your mouth as you look up at him, nodding softly. “And there.”

You’re suddenly being carried by Miguel, weight supported by his strong arms. You have to quickly wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward. He hurriedly takes you over to his desk and sets you down at the edge of the waist-level table.

He is so tall that you struggle a bit to keep your hold around his neck so you settle your hands back on his chest. You push at his firm figure and sit back to fully take him in. “And how about you?”

“Me?”

“Do you wear anything under that unbearably tight suit?”

“I do, actually. Wanna see?”

You’ve heard the rumors of Miguel’s nano-suit, but you’re still perplexed when he grabs his interdimensional watch from the desk next to you. He clicks a couple of holographic buttons and you watch in awe as his suit seems to dissolve off of him, one particle at a time, like it never existed in the first place. The fading red and navy reveal his perfectly muscled body, somehow making him look even bigger in front of you.

He did, in fact, have some briefs on under the suit, but it’s what’s under it that catches your attention. Your thighs clench together as you watch him set down the timepiece, his arm unintentionally flexing under the dim lighting.

Miguel returns to you and you spread your legs slightly so he can stand directly in front of you. You slowly reach out to him, palm to the skin, and soak in the natural heat of his body. You can feel his heart beating under his chest, slow and steady.

“You’re hot.”

He has that teasing grin back on his face, “Am I?”

“I mean…warm.”

He shrugs, “Us Spiders run hot.”

Miguel moves your hand off of him and sets it on the table before pushing his body closer to you, making your legs push out further. He leans in so close that you have to slowly tilt your body back with him. “Bet you’re warmer.”

He shifts your body further onto the table and then starts working on the rest of your suit. It tears easily from your body, scraps falling to the floor until you’re fully bare in front of him. You pant as you watch him and feel your center pulse in reaction to his rough handling. “There we are.” His voice is soothing, but his eyes flash dangerously. You arch your back slightly as his claws scrape lightly over your stomach to your most sensitive area. You don’t even have to look down to know you’re dripping, you can feel it all over your inner thighs.

His fingers glide over your glistening lips, spreading your eager wetness leisurely. His claws are gone. You watch his face as he stares at his actions, his hungry eyes dark with lust. You both groan when one finger dips in, pushing gently against your entrance. You’re practically gushing around him as he starts to move, wet sounds accompanying each thrust. A string of slick follow his hand as he pulls away and it drips carelessly on your flushed thigh. With hooded eyes, Miguel holds up his dripping finger, “Open.” You suck on him enthusiastically, holding his gaze as it’s slipped into your mouth. “Fuck.”

His briefs are shoved down his muscular thighs before you can look down and you’re shoved roughly onto your back. You feel his claws dig into your thighs as he spreads you out for him, pushing them back until they're next to your waist. His warm hardness slides against your weeping pussy, covering him in slick as he prepares himself.

Your breath hitches as his cock pushes inside of you, nearly stretching you to your limit. You try your best to take deep breaths, but it’s hard when you can literally feel each inch sinking into your body. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest as he feels you involuntarily clench around him, invariably sucking him in further. His eyes are almost glowing with how bright red they are. “Relax for me baby, I’m almost in.”

Your thighs tremble under his hands as he continues to plunge in deeper, unable to keep up with all the stimulants surrounding you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls is exquisite and you can barely hold yourself back from cumming right there.

Then he starts moving.

His hips drag back, pulling almost all the way out before he buries himself back inside of you. Your head tilts back with pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut, you can’t even tell what you’re holding on to. He keeps this slow pace, body nearly engulfing you as he hovers above. A moan follows each thrust as he fucks you into his desk.

When your eyes are finally able to flutter back open, you meet his stare. You quickly attempt to hide your face with your arm, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with him while he’s using your body like this. He doesn’t like that.

Your wrists are forced above you and then expertly webbed together to hold them there. His red webs pulse hot around your wrists. Unlike the traditional webs that tend to feel like cool lace, his are warm, like fingers wrapping tightly around your wrists, almost thrumming with soft heat in a way that makes them feel alive.

You yelp when his hand tugs sharply at the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your gaze as he moves over you. “Look at me, baby.” You listen. He begins to aim his thrusts upwards into you, nudging against that special spot inside of you. And as hard as you try to keep looking at him, your eyes inevitably roll back as he hits it so precisely. You faintly see stars.

You cry out as heat blooms your center and your thighs close around his hips, tightening as a spark swarms in your lower belly. “That’s it, baby,” He speeds up, feeling you start to clench around him, “let go.”

Your vision blurs when your climax blasts through your body. Hot tears spill from the intensity of the feeling, creating hot trails of wetness over your cheeks. “Such a pretty little thing." He wipes them away lovingly. Your body jerks with pleasure and Miguel has to hold your waist down as your back starts to arch off the desk.

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he starts fucking you harder, letting his body weight hold you in place as he chases his own high. You whine against his neck, skin sticky with sweat, as he roughly ruts into you. “Be mine, baby, and I’ll take care of you forever.” His claws dig into your web-pasted wrists as he works himself into you, post-orgasm slick smothered carelessly over the both of you. “I promise.” He whispers breathlessly next to your ear.

“Please.” The word is nearly stuck in your throat as he continues to take everything your body is willing to give him. He’s basically grinding his cock into you now, wanting you as close as possible for these last moments. You barely hear it but he whimpers against your shoulder as he starts to draw closer to his climax, desperately rutting his hips against you.

With a choked-out groan, his movements grow sloppy and he thrusts deep inside of you a few more times. You feel the warmth of him as he spills inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He’s panting above you, body weight nearly smothering yours. You love it.

He slowly pulls out once he’s calmed down, eyes locked onto your leaking center that’s full of a mixture of you and him. His fingers lovingly spread his cum over your pussy and you flinch as he slides against your sensitive clit. You give him a look of disapproval which he ignores as he pushes his mess back inside of you.

“Will you let me out of these now?” You pull at the webs, still holding your arms above you.

“Hm…I think I’ll keep you there for a little bit longer.”

–

His office is like a bat cave when you’re barely dressed. There’s a slight breeze in the office (you have no clue where it’s coming from) that’s making it particularly drafty. You force Miguel to huddle over you like some oversized puffer jacket as it was his fault the only clothes you came with are lying on the floor in scraps.

“How am I supposed to leave when my suit is in tatters?”

His arms hold you tighter, “You aren’t. You’re staying with me.”

“Miguel, people are probably looking for us by now.”

“I don’t care.”

“Miguel.”

“Alright, fine. You can borrow one of my nano-suits, but we’re going to my place.”

“Dude, you’re like 6’3”, how am I supposed to fit into one of those?”

He tsks, “Really? You’re calling me ‘dude’ after all of this?” He grabs his watch again, scrolling through some settings. “It’s nano-tech, sweetheart, it fits what I want it to fit.” He dials the size down, letting you watch as the hologram shrinks to display your general size. “And I’m 6’7.”

-----

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