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wyvernest · 8 months

Text

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

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

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

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

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

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're ovulating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

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

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messylustt · 10 months

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Going without a bra in your spider suit because you only need to report to Miguel and then your changing so why bother? Completely forgetting that you have your nipples pierced, meaning Miguel can see the barbells and your nipples through the skin tight suit. He’s going feral: both because of the image of them and that someone else would have had to see your naked breasts in order to pierce them.

you were pierced where? — miguel o’hara ( nsfw ). oml—hfndkkkdkkem.

miguel was busy, staying distracted with the nearing mission as he listened to lyla. but the moment you walked in, all suited up and ready, his hard gaze and body simultaneously tensed and widened. because what were wearing? your spider suit, yes. but it was what was poking through that caught miguel’s attention. his eyes grew fixated on your tits as you walked in alone, and oblivious. he quickly waved lyla away, jumping down and stepping closer to you.

“what are you wearing? or should I say…what aren’t you wearing?” miguel speaks slowly, and lowly. you glance down at yourself. he’s seeming to really focus in on the fact that your nipples look pierced — the metal bars poking through. you had chosen not to wear anything under your suit today. it was only going to be you and miguel. you glance back up at him. “what? it’s just you this mission.” you say, thinking it’s about the ‘no bra’ situation. but miguel isn’t focusing on the fact that anyone else could see you, because someone else has seen you.

he steps much closer, his gaze hardening again. “when did you get them pierced?” he asks, his teeth grinding. you look down again. “oh…” you drift off. “a few days ago.”

“a few days ago?” miguel reiterates harshly. “and you…what? didn’t think to tell me?”

“well i was gonna tell you. i am telling you. right now.” you smile, and miguel’s lips twitch in a snarl. “no no, you can’t just decide that.”

“what do you mean — ” but your words are dying off because miguel is now breathing over you. his towering position actually making you gulp. “who did it?” he asks.

and his almost calm tone is making your breathing increase. “uh…someone who does piercings…” you say, eyeing him. “look, miguel, it’s not that big of a de — ”

“who. did. them?” miguel interrupts, his red eyes nearly making you flinch. “i didn’t catch his name.” you mutter, moving to bypass miguel. “now, don’t we have a mission — ”

miguel’s hand is now tightly wrapped around your upper arm, halting your movement. “his?” he asks slowly, as you move to step away again, only earning miguel to yank you back into his chest, as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “a guy pierced them?” he double checks the fact that is making his claws itch to sink into something. “a professional did.” you point out, grabbing his wrist to remove his hold.

when he doesn’t shift you instead decide to quickly lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips as a small distraction. that gives you a moment of looseness in his wrist, for you to take his hand away, but then miguel is slipping his hand to the back of your neck, drawing you back in for a more heated kiss. his lips drawing you even closer as he nearly snarls past your teeth, tongues clashing.

but then you’re drawing back and miguel has the urge to sink his fangs into your bottom lip, because why were you moving away?“miguel, we’re working.” you quietly say, darting your gaze around as if you’d see gaping spider-people. but miguel is leading you back, the empty office exactly that. empty. his hands are now purchased around your waist, pulling your lower body against his.

“are you sure you can’t give me a name?” miguel has started placing sloppy kisses along your jaw, as your back hits the wall. “hm?” he’d ruin the guy who touched you. he needed something to sink his claws into with all this pent up jealousy. “i told you…i didn’t catch it…it’s not like we grew close — ”

“but that’s exactly what you were.” miguel interrupts, grabbing part of your neck and jaw again as his breath hits your slightly parted lips. “…close. he was especially close. touching you.” his fangs are now visible with how much he spat the words. “that’s what they do, miguel.” you try to console.

“he stayed professional — ” he keeps cutting you off, mouth now up close and open against your own. “but they’re mine, cariño…mine to touch, mine to play with…” his clawed hand moved to trace over your spider suit covered nipples, feeling the metal bar, as you flinch a fraction.

“aw…” he coos. “they feel hard, cariño…” then he’s leaning towards your ear. “were they hard for him?” you shake your head. but miguel persists. “of course they were. i know how sensitive you can be. and by someone touching them, you would have started to feel…hot…down here…” he runs two claws down your stomach and over your pussy, making your hips shift.

“…isn’t that right?” your breathing is shallow, as he goes to rub experimentally through your suit, his lips now re-attaching to your skin, drawing the edge of your suit down to lick at your neck, making your pulse quicken. “next time you want help involving things like this…” his claw dragged back across your nipples. “…you’ll come to me.” he grabs your chin again, forcing you to agree. “won’t you?”

you quickly nod, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. miguel’s lips finally curve up in a smile. “but since he got to see you all flushed and turned on…i get to see you writhing and spread open under me…that’s sounds about right, doesn’t it?…yeah.” miguel moves your head in a nod, before his hand is dropping back to your throbbing pussy. “there’s a good girl…”

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inkdrinkerworld · 8 months

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yes!!! miguel is so into dumbification!!! can we get a hc for that? i feel like he goes all crazy when you cry, like starts laughing and going faster! <33 tyty

you ofc can!!! 18+only MDNI cw: smut, dumbification, creampie, p in v penetration

miguel knows it’s mean, knows he’s messing with your head but you just look so fucking pretty like this that he can’t bring himself to feel bad.

your legs are on his shoulders, hands gripping the sheets as he leans down and fucks into you.

you gasp, eyes rolling back as you feel him move deeper. it should be illegal for anyone to fuck this good.

he’s already pulled four orgasms from you and you’re sure he’s going to try to pull more but you can’t fight it- it feels too good.

“miguel,” you groan, hands tugging the sheets as the man above you rolls his hips.

“qué amor?” he murmurs, sweat dribbling down his chest. when you don’t answer he rolls your clit and you scream making him laugh.

“please,” you beg and he smirks.

“please what? you know you have to use your words, princesa.” you can’t and he knows it, the extent of your vocabulary right now is his name and pleads.

his hips keep moving and the head of his cock keeps spearing against your cervix and you can’t think. not when his thumb continues rolling your clit.

your hands move from the sheets to his chest, nails digging into his skin as he speeds up.

“fuck,” you cry, body shaking as your fifth orgasm crests.

“you can take it baby,” miguel licks your neck, biting the tender skin there as he feels your cunt clench faster. “just let go for me.”

tears stream down your face as you come, hiccuping when miguel starts chasing his own release.

“look at you,” his hand reaches your face, thumb whisking away your tears. “feels good doesn’t it?” he’s mocking you now, but you can’t tell the difference so you nod anyway.

miguel chuckles a little just before he fills you up. his hand brushes away your hair, lips finding yours and then your cheek.

“you okay?” he whispers, hands stroking your thighs as he puts them down on the bed.

“yeah,” your voice is airy, eyes unfocused as you look at him. “need a minute.” you admit and he smiles, kissing your nose before flipping you both over.

“sorry,” he coos at your whimper, stroking your back to help you relax on top of him.

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madschiavelique · 8 months

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Hi Ily

Miguel who says he doesn’t want kids after gabriella but secretly tries to breed reader 🤭 breeding press, ass up head down, missionary but he holds knees up to readers chest afterwards for a minute? Anytime reader confronts this he denies it LOL lowkey gaslighting them

GN reader tyyy

aww ily too nony !! hope u like it hehehe

summary : miguel said he didn't want kids after gabriella... but sectrely tries to breed you content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, breeding kink, scent kink (miguel can smell reader's ovulating), gn!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 627 tag list : @fandom-ash

A moan washed through your hot breath against Miguel's cheek as he thrust into you once more, making you feel as if he were buried even deeper within you.

Your calves rested on his shoulders while your knees were on either side of your head, grazing your ears.

"Miguel-" you swallowed as your voice caught in your throat, "I'm too full."

But that was all he was looking for.

Miguel had raised your hips, pressed your legs against you to drive his cock even deeper into you. He had to touch you to the core, make sure his cum would fill you completely and guarantee that you would bear his children.

You were already full, but he had to go on and finish one more time, as much for his own pleasure as to make sure you'd end up pregnant.

He could already picture you, your rounded belly that he caressed and kissed as you carried the fruit of his success inside you.

His chest was pressed against the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers gripping one of them firmly as he moved down to kiss your neck before only pulling his head back to admire the view.

He had before him the most sublime vision of all, your gaze all hazy and dumb fucked, breasts pressed and cunt just taking him perfectly.

His pupils turned red, his rhythm quickening while he let out low grunts as he came to kiss you.

He couldn't think of anything else, his only thoughts all focused on breeding you. He had to make sure you were full enough so that, if he pressed down on your belly, hi cum would drip out of you excessively.

Your mouth whimpering his name, your nails tracing long lines down his back and leaving crescent moon marks in his arm, your smell...

You were ovulating, and that's what made it so uncontrollable. That plump, warm, irresistible smell - how could he control himself when you smelled like that? You were ready for him, your body itself caressing his deepest instincts.

Your walls were so warm, enveloping him to perfection.

"Take it all in," he growled as he felt himself coming, accelerating harder inside you.

He bit into your neck, licking the trail he'd left. His scent mingling with yours was just so exceptional, he couldn't get rid of it, and didn't want to : it felt like pure heaven.

He grunted with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, feeling his cum filling you all warm once more as you moaned at the sensation.

He came to press his forehead to yours, breathing open-mouthed before coming to kiss you, not moving from the position. He was still buried deep in you, making sure you stayed full and nothing came out.

"Are you... trying to get me pregnant?" you murmured against him, still breathless as Miguel nuzzled his head into your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

He bit his lip and wrinkled his nose. He knew well that you suspected his convictions about not wanting any more children were dubious.

"Don't you like being so full of me, mami?" he'd asked, hoping to deflect the conversation.

"I do, but-" he came to kiss you, cutting you off.

"But what?" his voice was calm, honeyed.

"You said-" but he interrupted you again.

"What I said didn't matter." he sighed as he kissed your cheek, grinning against it as he came back to face you. "But what matters more to me now is that you admitted to liking it."

He raised your hips a little higher even than before, bringing his fingers against your clit which drew a moan from you.

"Then you won't mind if I continue."

Good things can always be overindulged.

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winterzsurprise · 11 months

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A New Beginning || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: You tell Miguel that you're ready to have a child with him.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick Miguel, creampie, vaginal fingering, brief blowjob scene, soft sex that turned rough later on, Miguel kinda whimpered lol.

Period is gone and came the asexual lil shit who can't write smut anymore lmaooo. I have two other plots just waiting to be finished (something about being paralyzed by his venom and needy sex after a death scare) but aaaaaaaaaaa. This is so shit, I apologize lmao.

mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi cielo- my sky (correct me on this please)

“I think I’m ready.”

Miguel didn’t respond for the longest time, focused on frying the vegetables. Clearing your throat you tried again.

“Miguel? I think I’m ready.”

“For what exactly? What trouble are you brewing up again?”

Sensing his dedication towards completing his task, you grew doubtful of your decision of dropping the news to him.

Miguel, always tuned in to your moods even without seeing you, immediately turned off the stove and turned to face you with crossed arms at your prolonged silence.

“Alright, what is it?”

Now seeing the permanent frown in his face, you wondered if he’s even as ready as you are. Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider society and a chronic over-worker, you could see him putting his job first as the protector of spider people since he sometimes does it with you.

But you’ve seen how his eyes lingered a little too long on Mayday and Peter B whenever they visited. You’ve seen him replay clips of a future that doesn’t belong to him and watched him mourn over a child that never existed in this universe.

Having a kid with both of your features…

It doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.

“I’m just… thinking about kids you know?”

The twitch in his eyebrow betrayed his uninterested expression. “Oh? What about them?”

“I think I’m ready for one.”

Tensed silence immediately filled the room, locking your throat close as you waited for a change in his stance with bated breath. You saw the surprise flash in his eyes but he made no move to indicate his interest in the subject.

If it wasn’t for Mayday, you wouldn’t have thought about bringing a child into a world where she'd have parents from two separate dimensions, both superhuman and known as saviors of the world. Not to mention, while being an active crime fighter in your own universes which is not an ideal occupation for a pregnant woman.

Even then, you had your IUD removed a few days ago when you returned to your world for a visit and only today did you guys had the time to bond.

As you linger in the silence, regret starts to crawl up your throat. Maybe it's a stupid decision after all...

His sigh sliced through the thick atmosphere before his voice did. “Are you sure?”

Miguel, no matter how unsure his voice sounded, had a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it for so long and... I think I’m ready now.”

You swear you could hear the clock from the living room tick beside you as you wait in anticipation.

tik!

tok!

tik!

tok!

tik!

Miguel reached behind to remove his apron, crumpling them like a paper ball and tossing them to the side before crossing the distance between the two of you with one large step, hands surging to cup your cheeks to pull you in for a deep kiss.

You melted in the soft plushies of his lips, hands rising to tangle themselves into his hair.

His hands wandered down to your rear, tapping it rapidly and you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist before proceeding to walk blindly to the bedroom, relying solely on muscle memory.

Miguel’s lips melded with yours smoothly with years of experience, his taste familiar in your tongue. Your fingers combed through his hair, tugging him closer as the door opened behind you.

It didn't take long before you hit the softness of your bed. His body dwarfs yours in every way and the realization never fails to send jolts of pleasure down your spine.

There's greed and desperation in Miguel's hands as he tore through your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts that pebbled with goosebumps from the cold air. Despite the hunger and rush in his movements, his touch is the softest it has been in a long, long time since the needy sex from months ago after a death scare.

His fingers found your stiff nubs and pinched them, sending sparks crawling over your body, stirring your nerve endings awake. Miguel's lips parts from yours to pepper kisses down your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

You quickly made work of his top, pushing it over his head before he latched onto your skin once more like a bloodsucker.

"You're so pretty, mi cielo." He groaned, kneading your mounds together. "I lose my mind just thinking about your tits growing full with milk for our kid."

You couldn't suppress the shudder racking your body at the mention of having your own child, together. A low moan left your lips and Miguel's hand wandered lower to tug on the bands of your shorts and underwear.

"You don't mind this one, yeah?"

"Rip it off."

He didn't need to hear it twice, the sound of fabrics tearing off into two echoed in the room and plant both your legs on either side of him, leaving you bare for him to see. Sitting back on his heels, he admired his work as he caressed your inner thighs with small circles, a promise of what to come.

"As much as I want to eat you up, I want to see you falling apart my dick more."

You nod feverishly, sighing as deft fingers found your clit to roll in tight circles, occasionally scooping down to spread your wetness around your folds. Heat explodes from your abdomen, spreading across your body as pleasure slowly ricochets inside you.

His finger enters you, curling up to caress the spongy part of your walls and you moan. Miguel spared no time adding another digit inside you, picking up a fast pace and your body arched, hips twisting to follow his ministrations.

But before the pressure in your abdomen builds up, he pulls away to your distaste.

"Fuck…" You whined.

"Stop whining and get on top of me. I wanna see you bounce."

He slipped off of his pants and boxers, tossing it to the side before switching positions with you. You reached down to his hardened length, pumping him leisurely while he ran his calloused hands up and down the meat of your thighs.

You eyed the clear pre-cum erupting from his tip with every pump with fascination. Miguel's hands tensed on your thighs as a warning yet you bent down to lick off it off. A salty taste explodes in your mouth and Miguel grunts, nails digging into your flesh.

"Mi vida..."

"You're such a mood killer." You said, earning yourself a pinch in your thigh and you giggled.

You positioned his intimidatingly huge dick directly under you and with a deep breath, you let the tip sink into you. It's barely in and you're struggling with his girth stretching you wide open. Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel rubbed circles on your hips.

"You can do it, baby. You know you can take me in."

With the slight pushing from Miguel, you eased him in with a mewl. He feels deeper and fuller this way and you gasped at him, nudging more of him inside.

"Fuck..! You're so deep..! I c-can't—"

"You can and you will. I'll make sure you do."

"P-please... Ah!"

Surrendering your control to him momentarily, he gladly took up the mantle. Your mind grew fuzzy at how full he makes you feel and it pleased Miguel to no end to see you drunk on his cock. Reaching up to your neck, he pulls you down for a dizzying kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as he gained some speed, nudging the roof of your uterus, keeping your mouth hang ajar, spouting gibberish and noises of absolute ecstasy. His hands roamed your body with the greed of an explorer in a new land yet tender as if handling a feather whilst you tugged hard on his locks.

"You feel so tight around me. God, you feel heavenly." He grunts as he drives himself in your heat.

Your body grew feverish as your heart grew fuller from the softness of his touches and kisses. The knots in your abdomen twisted tighter, your impending climax arriving a little early.

"I-I'm close…"

"Give it to me, come all over my dick. I want it all."

Picking up speed, you cried onto his shoulders as he plummets into you hard. Your hips grew erratic as you followed the intensity of his thrusts, his hands grabbing the globes of your ass to guide your heat onto his.

"Come for me, cariño."

Your whimpered whispers of his name filled the room as you tip closer to the edge.

The knots in your abdomen unfurl and you come, trembling on top of him with a shout. He grunts as the tightness brought by your end, hugged his girth firmly. His hot pants fanned your ears as your climax encouraged him closer, the sound of his pleasure sent sparks throughout your body and swells your chest with pride.

"Take all of me, baby. You want it yeah? Want me to fill you up real bad? Want me to breed and knock you up?"

"Yes yes yes…! I want it please please please!"

Miguel protectively wrapped his arms around you as he came, exploding and painting your insides white with a deep groan. His arms only tightened around you, forbidding you from leaving.

Flipping you both, he sits up to stare at where you both connected with lust clouded eyes. Pulling out, you groaned at the feeling of his seed pulse out of you and Miguel clicked his tongue.

"You're wasting them."

Scooping them up, he plunged them into you and your thighs twitched from the intrusion. You let your eye close as your soul slowly settles back into your body, exhaustion weighing your eyelids shut.

The sound of wet squelch of his fluids mixed with yours burned your cheeks and you forced yourself to focus on the feeling of his fingers plunging his seed back in, pleasurable albeit a little painful.

Miguel halts, only to bring your legs up to your shoulders, stirring you awake from your momentary rest to meet the wicked gleam in his dilated eyes as he pinned your thighs down and loomed over you.

"Don't even think of sleeping tonight or tomorrow. We haven't even started."

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman fics #spiderman smut #marvel fics #marvel smut

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quaintii · 10 months

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A small drabble.. of Miguel having a breeding kink.

Warnings: MDNI !! 18+ choking, no plot just smut, spanking, breeding kink, Miguel x fem!reader, nipple play, more. enjoy <3 (I didn't revise this, pls send some requests)

Miguel has you bent over the kitchen table, pounding into your sweet pussy while making sloppy sounds echoing around you. He pushes deeper inside of your cunt every thrust he takes, which made you clench around him.

Prickled tears falling down your cheeks, his calloused hands around your throat, making you face the mirror infront of your kitchen. "Don't make a sound, bebé.. don't want to wake up the baby.."

"I want you to see how good you look while being fucked like a slut." Miguel whispered in your ears and bit your shoulders while kissing your back, leaving many marks for later.

You whined and pleaded for him to stop being so rough on you, in return he slaps your ass for speaking back at him. "You like a good fuck don't you? You fucking slut. Taking me so well, you keep sucking me in..good girl.." He groans

Miguel pushed his body weight onto you, the gasps and moans emanating into the air, making the atmosphere thicken. You cover your mouth to not wake up your newborn, quivering as you could feel Miguel pound into the sweet plushy soft deep in your cervix. He grabbed onto your holds, gripping tightly as he changed positions, holding you in a mating press position on the counter.

The new angle makes you twitch around him, clenching him harder as he was swirling his tongue around your nipples and sucking your breast milk. You tasted so good on his tongue.

Miguel loved seeing your fucked out face as you gasp for air and trying your best not to scream and cry when he pounded deeper into your wet, scorching, cunt. "You look so good with my babies inside you, Mami..." He kissed and flicked your nipples with his tongue to get more reaction out of you.

"Feel that? Feel how fucking hard I am?" He pants into your ear, nibbling on it. He pressed his calloused hands on your stomach, feeling himself deep inside you. "You feel so good, mami." His hands traveled where you two connected, rubbing your clit in circles. "You want it so badly, don't you amor?" He sneered. Your skin buzzing with pleasure. "I want to see your belly round and swollen from my cum, baby. I want to see you filled up from me." He moaned.

"Please M-miguel" you whined incoherently. "I'm gonna fill your pretty pussy full of my cum, baby." He groans and pants on your neck, leaving bite marks as he sunk his fangs deep. Your walls fluttered around him. The dam completely broke, leaving you seeing nothing by stars as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. "Oh m-miguel..p-plea..fuck im.." Your walls clench around him as he keeps chasing his orgasm, your throat choking out your moans as you fall into pure bliss. Tears running down your face with your mouth quivering. He cursed under his breath as you fell apart under him. His thrusting was frantic as he fucked you through your orgasm. He loved how each thrust made your breasts bounce back and forth.

Your orgasm completely blinding you, tumbling into ecstasy. Seeing your fucked out face, was enough to send Miguel over the edge. His jaw fell apart and his eyebrows furrowed together, savouring the delicious feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. The slapping of skin against skin drew him insane. He kept plummeting his cock deep inside your cervix, kissing that sweet soft you loved so much. His thick brown locks sticking on his forehead from the sweat. The atmosphere thickening as pants of your eachothers breaths fill the room. Clouding the kitchen windows.

Choked little moans keep escaping your lips, now in an almost unconscious state. Miguel comes with s loud grunt, filling your womb to the brim. Breathy pants were heard as he laid his head onto your shoulders, feeling your heartbeat and begins steadying his breathing. He pulls out slowly and pushed his thick fingers inside your cunt, making you jolt forward to his face. "Can't have any of this go to waste, mami," he says, pushing your combined fluids inside. Your swollen cunt overflowing with his cum.

Miguel carried you bridal style to the bathtub, running his hands through the water making sure it's warm for you. He goes in first and places you on top of him. Your back on his chest. He washed your body while giving caressing kisses along you back and neck. Grabbing your face and kissing you softly.

He massages your back and washed your hair. He placed kisses all over your body, warmth being left. As you both finish washing up, he placed clean sheets and brought you close to him. You snuggled underneath his head, cuddling him. "I love you Mig." You say softly. "I love you too, baby." He whispered. The sounds of the night put you both to sleep.

a/n: stayed up til 2 30 am writing this cuz I luv y'all sorry I haven't been online! Personal stuff going on a lot recently, but I'll be sure to feed you guys some more smut! Send me some requests!! I love u guys very much 🩷🩷

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel atsv #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderman

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cupcakeinat0r · 3 months

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Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…

Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)

[NSFW]

You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.

Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”

You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.

Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.

You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.

The thought still eats at him, though.

“Bebe…”

“hm?”

“Esta feliz conmigo?”

“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.

“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”

In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.

You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.

"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.

“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.

“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”

And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.

*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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queen-of-fanfics · 11 months

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Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.”

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in.

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie.

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving.

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie.

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.”

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders.

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises.

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.”

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out.

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.”

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else.

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off.

“Come up here and help me look at this.”

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances.

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras?

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.”

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues.

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now.

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones.

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!”

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.”

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber.

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings.

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening.

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.”

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home.

#fanfiction #fanfic #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman #spider man #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara one shot #hobie #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderman x reader #spider man 2099

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ronwestbreeze · 11 months

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too slow

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader

warnings: angst heheh. spoilers! small scenes of somewhat explicit nsfw. mentions of death!

summary: the both of you would come back from this. you would...right?

word count: 4.9k

author's note: did i come out of hiatus just to post a angsty miguel fic? yes. you know i had to as y'alls fav angst queen

part 2

No matter how far you left that spider life behind, he somehow managed to pull you back in.

And god you tried so desperately to stay away. To refuse him.

Miguel O’Hara just had a way with you. He always did.

Sometimes you wished you were stronger.

The moment you stepped into your apartment was when all of your senses struck your spine and made you freeze in your doorway.

No one else would have known to continue forward cautiously by leaping up to your ceiling and crawling the rest of the way into the apartment, high on alert. Then again, no one else was you. At least not in this universe.

Your spider senses got worse as you crawled toward your ajar bedroom door. When you were close enough, you dropped down as quietly as you could to the floor. One hand preparing a web to shoot and the other raising toward the door to push it further open.

Only you freeze all together.

A sharp tingle struck your back.

Behind you.

Of course, you were quick. Without turning toward the intruder entirely, you shot a web to grab a large vase sitting on a nearby table in the short hallway and swung it behind you. They dodged the vase just as fast and you instantly shot both of your webs toward the intruder. Only for them to be caught by them with both their hands.

“I’m disappointed, Domino.”

It was a mistake to let your guard down by only a little. It was a mistake to instantly recognize his voice.

“Miguel—AAARGH!”

A sudden yank from the webs caused you to fly forward until an iron grip wrapped around both your wrists. Until you were facing the scarlet and blue mask of the one Spider-Man you never expected to see again.

“Too slow.” Even with the mask, you could hear his smirk.

Now that you were aware of who you were dealing with, the tension in your muscles lessened. Just a little.

Some part of you wanted to say “You shouldn’t be here” but since you weren’t in the mood for a long and exhausting spout with the man, you took the more easy and straightforward route of the conversation.

“Why are you here, Miguel?”

His hold on your wrists loosened but he didn’t let go right away. Which was to your dismay as you really didn’t want to be this close to him. Not when you knew that both seeing him now and now having very little space between the both of you would compromise your senses, your steeled will.

And yet you didn’t pull away.

You watched quietly as his mask disappeared, trying your very best not to get too drawn into his features like you used to. Resisting the urge to run your fingers through his dark locks, tugging on some of them like the old days.

Stop.

That was a long time ago.

And it should remain that way.

Unfortunately, Miguel didn’t appear as strong or restrained. The way he hungrily looked at you wasn’t missed but it certainly wasn’t voiced. By either of them. That was something they wouldn’t touch right now. Probably not ever.

When his forehead gently brushed against yours, when his scent overwhelmed your nostrils was when you forced yourself back on solid ground.

“Miguel.”

Eventually, he also had to pull himself together. Eventually, he dropped his hold on your wrists and walked around you, putting a good distance between the two of you. Warily and curiously, you watched his movements.

He gestured toward the shattered pieces of what once was the vase, “I bought you that, you know. That was rude.”

“So is breaking into someone’s apartment.” You retorted dryly.

Miguel suddenly took out a small object that shone in the gentle light of the sunset, “I still have a key.”

You huffed, “Imma need that back.” You tried reaching for it, only for Miguel to quickly yank it out of your reach, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face. That’s when you grew annoyed.

“I thought you were never gonna come back to this universe again. Remember? You went on a whole tangent about it.”

“Mmm.” Was his response at first. You silently watched him tuck the extra key away into some invisible pocket in his suit. “That was only after you said you were never coming back to the team” You tensed at this as the memories came trickling back. “Or coming back to me—”

“So what’s changed?”

Miguel frowned, “I need you—”

“No.”

You reframed from smirking at the twitch in his jaw, at the way his trained mask momentarily slipped at your obvious stubbornness. You gestured in the direction of the front door, “If that’s all, the door’s over there—”

“It’s Electro.” That, of course—he knew it would—made you stop. It was your turn for your mask to fall, just enough for Miguel to notice as well. The intenseness in his features softened, “It’s your brother…he somehow made it into another universe—”

“When do we leave?” Miguel had the audacity to look surprised. You glared, “I’m not doing this for you, O’Hara. It’s like you said, he’s my brother. After that, I’m done for good, you hear me?”

With that, he schooled his face back to a controlled mask. One that meant business.

“Whatever you say, Domino.”

You wince and send him another glare before stalking toward your bedroom to change.

Ever since he started calling you that name, Domino, you’ve hated it. It originated from a mission gone bad—mostly for you—and he hadn’t stopped calling you Domino since. It was mostly because you had been knocked down into a bunch of trash cans that happened to be in a long line.

Hobie said you tumbled like a stack of dominos. Miguel never let that moment go.

Fuck him.

Yet despite your hatred for it, you never discouraged it. You just liked the way he said it. You liked the way his voice softened whenever—

No. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck. Him.

After this you wouldn’t ever have to see him again. You wouldn’t ever have to be wrapped up in his shadows, in his overwhelming way of showing…

Fuck him.

It was odd being back in your old suit. Frankly, it felt dated as you swung around in it. There was an itching part of you that wanted to update it, get new designs, and test them out of your suit. Self-restraint was a challenge during that mission. Especially around Miguel.

Thankfully, Jessica and Hobie showed up so it wasn’t just you and Miguel facing Electro—or in other words your estranged brother. It was already enough having to face family drama, but then you add a frustratingly unlabeled drama that kept interfering with your focus.

“Stay on your side, O’Hara!” You snapped when you dodged an electric zap sent your way.

“Don’t be a child!” Miguel shot back.

“I’m not! We agreed Hobie and I’d take left and you and Drew would take right! You are not holding your end of the agreement!” You landed on a nearby pylon. “Which is no surprise!”

Another blast came from Electro, this time aimed at Miguel and Hobie. Hobie was able to swing out of the way and land on the same tower with you while Miguel landed on the other side, “What the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

“She means you’re an asshole, bud.” Hobie added.

“Nobody asked you!”

“Hey!” Jessica shouted from below, steering her motorcycle toward Electro, “Less fighting like children and more getting this guy before he causes the entire city to go dark!”

The fight hadn’t gone on for long. Eventually, you were able to confront your brother up close despite Miguel’s protests against it. Yet you were the one that knew your brother the best, who was he or anyone else to tell you what to do when it came to him? Certainly not, Miguel. Leader of a secret society or not, this was your turf. He asked you here and you would complete the job the way you knew how.

There was a point where you managed to get Electro at a somewhat calm and the thrilled part of you was ready to prove Miguel right. But unfortunately, family bonds wouldn’t save you in this situation. It wouldn’t tie anything up in the neat bow you were expecting.

The blast nearly threw you entirely off the building if not for a bunch of webs catching you in mid air and bringing you back up. Miguel and Hobie managed to subdue Electro thanks to your unintentional distraction while Jessica was the one to pull you back to your feet.

“Damn, babes, that was a close one.” She gave an amused smirk. “Just how long have you been out of the game?”

“Shut up, Drew.” You grumbled despite the other woman’s grin.

Coming back to HQ was the very last thing you wanted to do. But you wanted to make sure your brother was properly dealt with. Even if that meant dealing with Miguel’s bullshit along the way.

As you entered the computer room, Miguel’s mask came off, “What the hell was that back there?”

“Domino doing Domino things.” You mutter dryly.

“Yeah you are.” Hobie held up his hand for a high five, which you reluctantly gave.

Miguel sent him a scathing scowl before turning back to you, “You think this is funny? You could’ve gotten yourself killed back there!”

“I had it handled.” You gritted out, removing your own mask. “He didn’t need everyone coming at him all at once. If you had given me a few more minutes with him—“

“But we didn’t have a few minutes, did we?” Miguel snapped quickly.

“No, of course not.” You crossed your arms, ignoring how he stood taller than you. Ignoring how he would’ve appeared menacing if not for your pissed off mood. “Because everything has to go O’Hara’s way, right? Fuck everybody else.”

Hobie smirked from the side of the room, his mask also removed, “I missed her. ‘ow come she’s not around often, Bossman?”

Miguel’s jaw twitched dangerously because they all knew Hobie never referred to him as “Bossman” unless to piss him off. because he knew that Hobie didn’t respect him as much, and didn't care for him as a leader. Bossman was just Hobie being a little shit, in Miguel’s words at least.

“It was fucking reckless.” Miguel seethed. “And as usual, you’re too immature to even realize what you did. What could’ve happened—“

“You brought me here!” You snapped back, as venomous as his fangs. “If you don’t like my way then you should’ve left me the fuck alone!”

“Guys, come on.” Jessica sighed, already used to the both of you like this.

Miguel was fuming and trying so desperately to hide the fact that you easily worked him up this way. And him failing at hiding it only made him pissed off even more.

He hissed, turning his back to you.“I was being considerate. For your sake. It was your brother after all…It was a mistake bringing you in. I should’ve known fucking better.”

A bitter laugh left your lips, “Finally! We can agree on something!” You stalked out of the room with Hobie trailing behind you—you were used to him following you around—as you muttered, “Let me know when you’ll be sending Max back.”

Just as you left the room, there was a loud crash and Jessica snapping at Miguel.

When your brother was finally sent back to your universe so that he could be sent to a cell powerful enough to hold him, you left HQ and didn’t look back when you did. Swearing to yourself that it would be the last time you would ever allow yourself to step back into that place. To allow yourself to set your eyes upon him again.

Unfortunately, that promise didn’t last too long.

Despite yourself, you started messing with your suit designs. Adding new stuff to make it look less dated than before. But that didn’t mean you were back to that spider life. No. Not one bit.

Hobie swung by your dimension and suggested that both of you went crime fighting for the day. And you only agreed just so your fighting techniques weren’t so rusty anymore. But you weren’t back in the game. Not one bit.

Then Jessica came to visit, claiming that she wanted you to see the progress in her pregnancy and catch up as friends. Which then led you to following her into another dimension to fight another Rhino, which was a great success.

Fuck, you missed this.

And you were tempted. You really were tempted to swing through your city as their Spider person again.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt after all. Didn’t mean you had to face Miguel. Yes. That was fine.

In the next month forward, you had started your crime fighting as the spider person of your dimension. A new suit and refreshed skills, you felt unstoppable. You even brought out your dimension traveling bracelet. Just to go and visit Hobie and Jessica whenever. Just that.

Soon, Jessica took on a new protege. Spider-Gwen. She was a nice kid and started coming over to your dimension with Hobie whenever they had the time. You liked her alot. She was like a little sister whenever she came around. Same as Hobie being like a younger brother to you.

At one point you found yourself back at HQ—you were honestly terrible at keeping your steeled will—but only to return a few bad guys to their respectful dimensions. You had fully planned on avoiding Miguel—at this point you hadn’t seen each other since your spat a month ago—and going back to your dimension.

That was the plan at least.

“How come you never go with us to see Miguel?” Gwen asked while the two of you watched one of the villains being sent back to their dimension. “You two don’t get along or…?”

Spider-Byte snorted and you sent the hologram a glare, “They have a special history, newbie. You’ll see someday.”

“Quiet, kid.” You mumbled, crossing your arms before addressing Gwen, “Yeah…we don’t get along. It’s best for the both of us that we aren’t in the same room together, right now.”

“Is it?”

You tried your very best not to allow your face to fall into shock at his voice coming from behind you and Gwen. Really, you should’ve expected that to happen.

Miguel approached the two of you, glancing briefly toward Gwen but his eyes remained glued to yours. “Drew’s asking for you. Says she needs your help on Level 4.”

It took you a few seconds to realize he had been talking to Gwen as the blonde nodded her head and disappeared out of the room. Spider-Byte threw on some headphones and continued with her work. In other words, it was just the two of you. The very opposite of what you had planned and wanted.

“I hear you’ve been coming around here a lot more often.” Miguel mused as he brushed past you, his arm grazing yours as he did. You watched him, a lot less hostile than you thought you would be. Instead, you only stared at his back muscles. “I didn’t know you’ve become quite the contradicting person.”

You shrugged, hugging your arms closer to you, “I’ve just been helping Jess and Hobie out. S’not a big deal.”

A sound came from his throat, similar to a chuckle, “I also hear that the White Spider is back on the news.”

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” You instead said, one of your brows raising slightly. “When did you start that up again?”

Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable, “Who says I ever stopped?”

You smirk, trying to hide how tight your chest felt at his words. At how soft his voice had gotten.

“Look who’s become contradicting now.”

Miguel was quiet at that.

You tried to continue your original goal after that frustratingly vague interaction. You weren’t really sure where you had stood with him after that. Sure, you still were hesitant to rejoin the society fully—mostly because of him—but now you were going on missions with some of the members and helping Jessica train her protégé. At this point, you were practically back, just without the official stuff.

And now you were on a mission with Miguel. You hadn’t been on one of these since your fight. Piece by piece you were just breaking your own promises, your stubbornness was weakening. Your spine had shaken.

Damn him.

No matter what you could never resist Miguel.

You could tell it was the same for him.

“You should go home.”

“Do you know how many times you’ve said that and I’ve still ended up staying?” You leaned on the doorway entrance to his quarters with a smug look on your face. “I think you should give it up by now.”

Miguel was topless. After a particularly long mission, a lot of the team had come out with some cuts and bruises, Miguel wasn’t exempt from that.

You watched as he was cleaning his wound on his left shoulder, only that put too much strain on his bruised side every time he reached his right hand over to tend to that shoulder. For a few more minutes you watched him keep going at it before you sighed and eventually stepped in.

“Stop.” You smacked his hand to the side gently and took the bloodied cloth from his hand.

Miguel tensed, “Domino—”

“I’ve got it.” You told him sternly. “We don’t need you reopening your stitches. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Your words had disarmed him and caused him to loosen the tension in his muscles at your gentle touch. The wound wasn’t too bad, at least not as bad as the one under his right arm. Once the blood was wiped away, there was just a bit of purple coloring. The blood must’ve been from someone else.

His breaths fanned against your own shoulder. You didn’t forget how close the two of you were in that moment. It was more like you were trying to distract yourself from the fact.

Instead, a small smile tugged at your lip, “It’s been a minute since you’ve been injured.” You noted the light scars on the other parts of his arm.

“Not really.” Miguel grunted, ducking his head down as he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got hit a couple months back. Only difference was that you weren’t there to lick my wounds clean.”

“Do you always need me to?” You joked halfheartedly.

A small tug upward in his lip made your heart skip, “I would prefer it better than being alone.”

“I thought you liked being a loner.”

“Not these days.”

You knew you were treading dangerous territory but the question left your lips before you could rethink it through.

“Did you really want me to go?”

Underneath your fingers, you felt him inhale, slowly.

“Honest?”

You scoffed, “I wouldn’t be asking if I wanted to hear a lie.”

Over his shoulder, he stared at you. A part of you wanted to shift under his intense gaze, a part of you wanted to look away sheepishly but you bravely held it. Though the change in your grip was probably a dead giveaway at your nervousness.

“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have ever left my sight.”

You tried not to feel too overwhelmed by his words, knowing it was your own fault for asking. For even bringing it up in the first place.

So instead you snorted, “Wow. Sounds awfully possessive—”

His other hand grasped the back of your neck and brought you toward him, your lips connecting. His desperation for you was clear. And your resolve had slowly fallen—no that was such a lie. It had quickly crumbled the moment you felt his touch, the moment his lips were on yours, the moment you felt his desperation sink into your skin just as easily as his fangs would.

When his larger body moved on top of you, you knew your resolve had fully broken. Completely gone. When his lips found your neck, you were gone. When his hips rutted against yours, your mind was gone. When you finally felt him sink into your being, when you felt him inside you—god you never realized how much you had wanted this until now.

No. You knew.

Miguel held your hands down to the bed sheets, only you managed to slip them from his grip and find them tugging and running through his hair, legs wrapped around his hips to pull him closer.

You felt him smirk against your neck, “My stubborn girl.”

And just like that you were back into a cycle in which you swore not to fall into again. Only, this time the two of you didn’t make it known to the others. It was a silent choice between the two of you to keep whatever this was to yourselves. It was better that way you realized.

But as time went by, you knew it would be a little more difficult to hide it. Miguel was touchy. It was fine on days where it was just the both of you, when the both of you were working on something together. Yet on the days where you are around others, such as missions, you know he can’t help himself. And neither can you.

The both of you were terrible at hiding it in the end.

Hobie was surprisingly observant.

“You’re lookin’ cozy now.”

You glanced up to find Hobie lounging about as you were looking at videos of different dimensions. “Let it go, B—”

“I ain’t sayin’ shit.” He shrugged. “Just noticed a few things is all.”

And the two of you left it at that. Never really spoke on it again. Hobie now knew. And Jessica had eyes and a brain, she probably already put two and two together. Especially with you coming to HQ a lot more often now. Even the newbie, Gwen, took double takes every now and then whenever she saw you and Miguel together.

“You seem particularly stressed tonight.” You hummed to him on another night—this time in your apartment, squirming as his cock twitched inside of you.

Miguel looked down at you, a brow raised in challenge, “Can’t take it tonight, baby? Usually you like it a little rough, hmm?” He buried his face into your neck, his thrusts slower than before. Gentle nips at your neck that would sure to leave bruises the next day. Just the way he liked it. The possessive shithead.

“And yet, you’re still stressed.” You whisper next to his ear, breathing out a sigh of pleasure.

Miguel grunted in reply and remained at your neck. Until he slowly pulled away to rest his forehead on yours. He sighed against your skin, “Just another anomaly. Nothing we can’t fix.”

You smiled with a soft hum, “You always do anyway.”

His lips were pressed into yours, a hint of a smile shaping his mouth, “Not just me.”

The anomaly problem never went away it seemed. Soon Miguel got buried deep into his work. You were fine with it, already used to his committed work habits. Besides, you had your own world to manage. You weren’t just waiting all night for him to come home like some girlfriend slowly practicing patience. No, instead you had your own thoughts to keep you busy. But you still managed to find time and visit HQ. To visit the others. To visit Miguel.

It wasn’t until the anomaly was formed into a single person. Another Spider-Man. A kid.

Miles Morales.

Gwen told you about him a few times. How he was the first friend she made after her Peter’s death. You remembered wanting to meet the boy with how much Gwen kept talking about him. And you told Gwen this as well. That they should plan a day to go visit him. Unfortunately, that day never came to fruition.

The unfortunate part was the why.

“What are you not telling me about this Miles guy?” You already knew the answer. You weren’t stupid. You just wanted to know if Miguel would tell you. Would trust you with the information.

Miguel had his back turned to you, facing the screens when you stalked into the room to ask him this. “He isn’t your concern.”

“Bullshit.” You cross your arms. “Clearly, you said something to Gwen. And Jess. Hell, even Hobie. What are you not telling me, Miguel? Why is Miles Morales so important?” You narrow your eyes challengingly, “Or rather, why does he make you so nervous—”

“Enough, Domino.” Miguel said through gritted teeth, trying desperately not to snap at you. “He isn’t your concern. Let it go.”

Hobie had already filled you in on the details before you had come to Miguel about it. The information in itself was troubling, yes. But what was even more troubling was why you were hearing it from someone else other than Miguel. Why did he want to keep you in the dark about this?

That’s when your eyes landed on the old video of him and his daughter. The daughter he lost on another Earth.

“Fine.” You frowned. “Don’t tell me.”

Miguel still had his back toward you. You scoffed and turned to leave. You would’ve been fine to leave it there. That was the one thing the two of you disagreed on the most. The canon stuff. Your sister had to die for it. That’s why Max had become what he had become. That’s why you had left the society, left him in the first place.

Restarting all of this. Thinking you could forgive.

But there was no way you could’ve ever forgotten.

You had to stand by and watch your sister die because it was a part of canon. Because Miguel cared for you and your world so much that he did not want to see it unravel like his did. A part of you wanted to believe that—maybe there was a small part that did—but that didn’t change the grief nor the terror. You just hoped.

Hoped. And hoped. And hoped….

Eventually, you did some research for yourself. Apparently, this Miles guy hadn’t lost his parents but his uncle. Apparently, he was supposed to lose his dad once he became captain. There was nothing you could do about it if it was supposed to happen. You certainly couldn’t tell him that was going to happen.

You couldn’t do anything….

Until you could.

Hobie appeared in the middle of your living room that night.

“I quit that place.” He shrugged, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “But I suggest you suit up, yeah?”

“Why?” You furrowed your brows, placing down your book you had been reading until he unexpectedly arrived.

“Because I ‘ave a good feelin’ you are the only person that wouldn’t like what’s about to happen. What’s currently happening.”

This time you frowned, an aching feeling tugging at your chest.

“Hobie. What’s going on?”

It wasn’t long until you were flying through the HQ, following all of the spider people as they chased after one thing. One person.

Nobody had known you were there. Nor what you were there for. You had blended into the crowd of spider people, flying around, swinging around until you spotted a blip of the boy that they were chasing. And you saw Miguel, Gwen, and Jessica going after him.

All that you knew was that he was alone. The boy was alone. He needed at least one person at his side. One person who understood what he was going through right then.

By the time you had gotten to the speeding trains, Miguel had Miles pinned down to the top of the train. He had yet to see you. But there was no doubt he would sense you. There was no doubt that he would see your flashing figure, zipping toward him. There was no doubt that in the corner of his eye, he would see you flying at him with a kick and landing it just perfectly, and in time before he could prepare to block you.

Now you stood in front of Miles as Miguel rolled away before clawing his hand into the top of the train to keep him on it.

You removed your mask and grinned, “Too slow, O’Hara!”

“Y/N!” Gwen stared at you in shock.

“Who’s that?!” One Spider-Man with a pink robe—and a baby—attached to him questioned in confusion.

Miguel crawled to his feet. In the corner of your eye Miles jumped off the train and disappeared in seconds. “What have you done?!”

You shrugged, “Nothing yet. That depends on you.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Jessica shouted. “You can’t beat him!”

Miguel’s face was twisted into a scowl, mixed with both betrayal and anger, “She’s right, Domino. You can’t win. You’re on the wrong side!”

You pulled your mask back on and melted into a fighting stance, “I don’t have to win. I just have to give the kid more time.”

For a brief second, the scowl was gone. This look was only for you to see. The same look he wore when you first quit the society.

They were back to where it all began. This was the cycle. It was bound to happen. You knew this. He knew this.

“I don’t want to fight you.” He gritted out. “Stand down, Domino. I’ll only ask this once.”

Not once did you budge.

“I hope we come back from this, Miguel.”

You dashed forward.

Miguel let out a roar of anger and dashed toward you.

The two of you would meet in the middle. And for a second, you really wondered…

Would you?

Would you come back from this?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara one shot #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara across the spider-verse #spiderman atsv #marvel #hobie brown #jessica drew #gwen stacy #miles morales

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tarjapearce · 5 months

Text

Poppy Blue

Blue Jones! Miguel x Baby Doll! Reader.

Art by @marbipa on x

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Power play, choking kink, rough sex, mentions of abuse, preying, toxic and perverted behavior, implicit clandestine and illegal activities, lobotomy, dissociation, implicit depersonalization, objectification, hate sex, manhandling, violence, sub space. No Proofread.

Summary: Messy things ~ (I guess?) Miguel as Blue Jones from Sucker Punch.

A/N: Watched Sucker Punch last night and... yeah. Had to get this out of my system. ~ Another one for the Miguelverse ~

Masterlist

All it took was a bullet. Aimed at your assailant with no intentions of missing. Yet you did. You missed, failed terribly so. His chest was your goal, instead it went directly to his shoulder.

Projectile ripping and scorching skin, tissue and muscle in the go, earning a shaky and pained yelp. But it was the least he deserved after trying to be sneaky on your sister, that laid cold and bled out in the floor. She was no match for his knife and his blood thirst of the night. The rest was a blur.

And now, you were dragged down to the wet and dull greys walls of your future home. Lennox House. Or rather Lennox Asylum for the Mentally Ill.

Everything about the place screamed danger, everything about the people working in the monstrosity of place yelled I'm no better.

Barefoot, soaked in rain, holding your new uniform and gazing at the biggest man you've seen in you life, holding a bunch of keys while his eyes bore into you.

The way he stared made your skin crawl and it didn't help your clothes clung to your body. Arms braced the uniform closer to your chest, trying to cover it up. His eyes wandered to the man behind you, a police officer with three scratched lines into his face. You hadn't left him unscathed. Not when he tried to play rough with you back at your old home.

The man showed you around, place was as depressing as it was from the outside, but The Theater took the prize.

Girls your age dressed in gray, socializing in the area. And by socializing it'd mean to watch them either receive therapy with a polish beautiful woman named Vera Gorski, or watch them fight over the stupidest things. But who could blame them?

Some probably had enough time inside that had memorized the cracks in the wall, the scratches on the floor, the number of chewed gums underneath the table or how many dust particles were accumulated in the windows. Gray. Everything was gray and dull.

Even the voice of the men behind you talking about a price for your silence were tiresome and dry. Two thousand. That's what your memories were valued as. A number you now hated.

Corrupt pigs

The police officer gave you a gentle push forward as a nurse came to fetch you. The simple touch of that man made your skin revolt and slapped him hard across his wilting face, a scowl on your grimace that slowly turned into a smirk as the police officer tried to catch you, but you were being dragged away by two nurses into a life that would turn your head upside down and backwards, the many times it saw fit until you'd understand that you weren't in charge.

Until you'd understand your purpose.

Dance.

"If you don't dance, you have no purpose."

Madam Gorski murmured to you. Pretty, dangerous and aware of the many many situations revolving in the brothel. Cause in truth, the asylum was just an alibi and a frontage for the real deal. House Lennox. A house of pleasure.

Bets, drinks, sex, meds and a hell of a show to anyone that filled Miguel's pockets.

The main attraction? Girls that society deemed unfit to keep within her picky guts. Too into messy situations to keep the pretense around relatives. Too fucked up to function properly but good enough to mold and shape into something useful, and too tempting to break even further.

She mumbled while circling you, her dark eyes scrutinized you unabashedly, taking in everything her sight could reach. Pursing her pouty lips upon your body.

Pretty, scared, still holding a grip on reality while trying to swallow a really hard to deglute pill, and oh so perfect for a new purpose.

"We do not keep things in here that serve no purpose."

The collide of her cane on the floor was like a metronome, setting the pace to enter a forbidden place, somewhere that none could reach but you. Mind splitting in two, dissociating soul from conscience, leaving an empty, moving vessel behind. You were free for a moment. And now you wanted more, more of that place where your imagination ran rampant.

Where Gorski's words meant nothing, where the guards had no power, where you were allowed to break down and feel without second intentions or being frowned upon. But mainly, without Miguel’s preying gaze licking you raw while undressing your form with it.

But the clapping and praising brought you back to this reality. Red eyes fell upon you, studying, raking over your body upside down, stopping at your thighs to then go back to your flushed and breathless face.

Mr. O'Hara. Miguel 'Blue' O'Hara. The asylum guard, the key bearer, perverted pimp, and your new shadow.

Ever since that dance many things changed.

Even though you danced, duties in the asylum weren't to be neglected. If you said no, you'd get a visit to the hole.

If you didn't dance, you'd get a visit to the hole.

But if you didn't do things Miguel's way, you'd get a personal talk with him, and then a visit to the hole.

And those talks, surely weren't words.

Scrubbing the floors gave you the chance to listen a bit of everything. Girl's derangements, psychotic outbreaks, mumblings that were filled in with regret and many more flourishing emotions; the ever loud music from the cook, and the unceasing mewls and obscene noises coming from Miguel's office.

Some girls misbehaved on purpose, just to get a taste of him. Others did anything to draw his attention to them, specially in the dance floor. But you knew better to anger him.

Sure, pleasure came in hand with a high price. He wasn't good, he wasn't nice nor gentle, matter-of-factly some girls cried during their one on one sessions and the degradation only enhanced the tears.

Sick fuck.

Gorski's alarms flared up upon seeing belt marks on their legs and ass, bites in their inner thighs and bruises on their hips. Eyes a bit too gone and tired to actually work in anything. They might have spread the gossip around of Miguel fucking them, and even enjoyed it.

But the aftermath of it, said otherwise. And it was enough to keep you on check, but even so he was pulled to you like a magnet so strong you could see the refrain in his eyes every time he approached you.

Hands shaky, tongue rubbing and wetting his plump lips, a soft flush on his cheeks and pleading eyes. A silent 'Let me play too' cause he wasn't allowed to touch, or taste you. Instead, he'd use the girls willing to please him to take his anger out. Their bodies meant nothing, they meant nothing cause they weren't you.

They didn't have your body, they didn't have your sweet voice that distorted into moans and gasps that he'd kill to induce every time you danced, but above all, they didn't have your spark.

That little interaction with the police when you first arrived, had him folding on a bathroom, stroking himself to oblivion at the mere sound of your slaps.

Unbeknownst to you, you held so much power over him. Power he was set to dull, because he was the only one in control. Not even Gorski and her stupid polish methods to get in the rest's head. He ran the place and had it under control.

For how long though?

You wanted out. His little Poppy wanted out and surely would get everything to be free and leave him, forsake him in this damned place.

Anger flowed within his veins like molten lava upon remembering how other men looked at you, how other men wanted you. They'd possibly been imagining how good and tight your insides would feel cause the way you moved when you were up in the stage, was surreal. It was like another person took over.

But he, a sick fuck through and through, would want both. No. He'd have both. He craved and needed both, even better when you were dressed in such things that only added more dry bones to his needy fire.

Fucking lucky of them to feel you and be a your second skin. Even that stupid and everything but innocent uniform you were to dress every day, stirring up enough to let him take a peek of your panties, or the stockings underneath that remained etched on your supple thighs he'd often fantasize in getting lost between.

He just had to wait for you to misbehave. But sadly you didn't seem keen into breaking the rules. He'd wait.

---

"Stormy, come."

Vera called another girl. Whoever gave their names either knew them too well or picked random words in a go. Gorski too engrossed into her lessons to notice you had been dragged away by other guards under Miguel's petition.

Had you forgotten about something? No. Surely not. Last week's chores were fulfilled completely, the bathrooms were clean, the kitchen's dishes turn were washed up, and so were the floors. Your wrists sore, a reminder to ask for a new brush.

And-

Shit.

Fuck.

The laundry.

Some dancers had ran out of stockings, lingerie, and some sheets from the brothel needed to be replaced ASAP.

But you, Poppy, as Vera had called you and it stuck with the rest ever since, had trouble. Just cause you had forgotten about the damn laundry.

Miguel's formidable frame came into view, he was on a call, lying on how well someone's daughter was doing after a lobotomy. How they didn't have to worry about her anymore.

Your stomach felt sick and your heart leaped on your chest once he ended up the call. The guards had been long gone, leaving you with your shadow alone.

If honest, you knew Miguel either followed or kept you watched under hawk's eyes. Time stopped as soon as he turned to face you.

Pupils wide blown as soon as you came into his sight.

"My sweet, sweet Poppy."

He inhaled deeply and clasped his hands together before his face. An uncontainable smirk morphed into a light titter.

"You've been a bad girl, princesa."

His hands slamming on the table before him made you jolt and blink at his sudden mood shift.

"We..." He wetted his lips as he came behind you, "We were counting on you, Mi cielo. But... you failed us. Failed me."

A gulp as his breath fanned over the crook of your neck.

"You see..." His big and long fingers brushing your hair away from the right side of your head joint, "Now I gotta improvise something for the next show. "

"I'm sorry, I forgot-"

His hand took a hold of your neck and the contact made him growl. Warm, smooth, feeling every heartbeat underneath his big and calloused palms.

Lips dangerously close to your ear, breathing and panting as he pulled you closer to him, your back colliding against his torso and abdomen.

"Shh"

He hushed while taking a big whiff off you. A mix of soap, perfume and cigarettes. His hand squeezed tighter, earning a lovely and sweet yelp from you as he pushed you against his desk.

Your eyes widened in surprise upon feeling the hardening cock in between the slot of your thighs, poking, begging to be released and finally take you.

"You remind me of someone. Too bad she lost her spark."

His hand riled the skirt of your uniform up, passing up some layers of extra clothing, your underwear and stockings. Hand plunged inside to finally allowing his fingers to have a sample of your flesh.

"But I'm keeping yours alight, sweetheart."

His cock twitched when he found your clit. Fingers dexterous and peeling the outer folds away to give a gentle rub before you closed your legs almost instantly. A little delaid reaction, your brain was still processing it.

You went completely still when he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. He sucked them off with hunger, groaning and trembling at the taste.

"Por Dios, preciosa..."

You tried to pry his hand out of your neck but the struggle made his breathings more labored and needy as he humped and ground against you from behind. Letting his tip to speak volumes at how hard and wanton he was. How bad you made him react. How much power you had over him.

Of course.

The idea of having him subdued to you assaulted your mind. Pressuring you into pleading, just like your clit that clenched and twitched upon having his tip rubbing in a slow yet firm strokes.

His hands went back inside your panties, searching for the nub of nerves that had you melting. Tongue skimming at the tender skin of your neck.

Just as he was about to bury a finger knuckle deep, the ever annoying voice of Vera urging Miguel from outside the door, asking for you. Her dear and lovely Poppy.

"Chingada madre" (Fucking shit)

He sighed with an exasperated growl and looked at the door.

"The fuck you want?!"

"I need Poppy on the practice. Now."

Where was the shocking baton when he needed it the most?

For once, you were relieved to know that you didn't go unnoticed under Gorski's watch. She protected the girls in her own way.

Knees trembled as he kept the hand inside. A little miscalculation had you whimpering while his fingers remained trapped in your flesh. His eyes snapped back on you with a smirk.

A hand clasped on top of your mouth, suffocating any moans as he worked his fingers between your pussy. Touching and prodding at the forbidden flesh, a moan vibrated through his hand with a high pitched Hmm

"I'll get her to you right away!"

Miguel yelled while working his fingers harder and faster, alternating between rubbing and fucking your hole with them.

"Spread your legs wider, pretty baby" The husk of his voice made you close your eyes and hips hump ever shyly at his hands. Gaining as much friction as possible.

"Miguel, I need her now."

He grumbled under his breath while moving his hands faster. The wet smooch and sucking squelch had him humping against your panties, breaths agitated, muttering something you could only decipher as filth in spanish, your hands clenched onto him, tightly fisted on his clothes.

Just a bit more

He heard Vera cursing in her native tongue as he prodded his fingers inside, toying with your opening. Stretching and fucking it at his likings.

"You fucking little slut"

He tittered while rubbing furiously in your clit. A bit too rough that had you bucking and trembling in his arms. If his hands made you quiver and melt he couldn't wait to see what his cock could do. You drenched his fingers.

Said fingers were cleaned up again by his mouth with a droopy and pleasure drunk face.

Despite having your legs shaky, he held you by the hips, and forced you to grab onto his desk. His hands quickly fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling his cock out.

He stroked a couple of times, tip susceptible to stimulation. He pulled the panties aside, your stockings the only barrier between you and his erection. The flimsy layer of clothes instantly adhered to your soaked skin, He pushed in between your thighs, rubbing his cock back and forth with slow thrust against your pussy. His hot length brushed against the already engorged and sensitive nub.

The tightness of your warm thighs smooshed together created the perfect friction hole for him without actually penetrating you. So close and yet so far of that forbidden territory. Soft mewls and whimpers came out your mouth, too enraptured in feeling than verbalizing your pleasure.

He also needed his toys. Specially his favorite. Stockings were thoroughly soaked the more he pushed his cock in and out. Labia clothed and slicked parted to feel his shallow moves. He used you as his fleshlight, his hips smacking yours. His chest rumbled with animalistic and low growls.

His hands were clumsy as the pleasure turned overwhelming, you could see the flushed tip of him peeking out your thighs, the urge of tasting him turned bigger the faster he went. You were trying so hard to keep it as quiet as possible.

"Wished I was inside you, don't you?"

You gasped as he purposely angled his tip in your dripping hole. A shivering breath was all he received.

He took you by your chin and squeezed

"Don't you?!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Yes, what?!"

"Yes, sir."

Jesus fucking Christ.

He pushed in deeper in your cunt, his cock pushed a bit of the stockings inside as he doused it with his cum, unable to hold back any longer, marking you.

You had never heard a man pant and wheeze like that before. So deep, raspy, needy, cradling you tighter, anchoring to you as he shook his orgasm out.

"Fuck- Ay Dios, fuckfuck-"

He slurred while engulfing your frame against the table. Breathings matching his erratic ones.

Your skin between supple thighs felt clammy and sticky. Black stockings ruined completely by the white and wet patch of his scent.

Hot breath fanned over your neck.

"Can't wait to feel the real de-"

The door banged.

"Boss! We need you!"

The guards and Vera had proposed to fuck around with him cause his patience had been tested many times.

Your steps marching away from him snapped him out of his thoughts, He blinked and held you by the wrist, pulling you once more to him to kiss you.

Your first kiss in years. Soft but needy and filled in with a promise to fulfill later.

Now that he had a taste, there was none to stop him. He'd take his favorite toy and go home.

----

Freedom was taken away from you, right before your eyes. Forsaken by your so called friends, marooned by the crew you had gathered within the depths of despair. Your hope had given them a chance at surviving, your courage had transformed you into a fucked up sisterhood, but it was their greed that made you the ultimate sacrifice to their success.

You could only watch while thrashing your way out, but the more you fought, the more guards came to you, but one in particular pulled you out of the mess like a feather. But you didn't stop fighting. Not even when your tabs were in absolute zero probabilities of winning, not when Miguel dragged you inside manhandling your crying form like a ragdoll.

Scratches, fists and other punches didn't move him in the slightest. His grip tightened once you both were locked up in his office once more. He tossed you on the floor.

"Why... Why did you want to leave?"

His tone menacing yet hurt.

The idea of you almost slipping away from him had sent him in a berserk mode that unleashed hellbent through the asylum. Just to find you and when he did, he wanted nothing but hurt you, just the way you've hurt him.

Wasn't his attention enough? , wasn't him being lenient on you and your chores enough? Wasn't he enough?

"WHY?!"

You were too dumbfounded to process his question. Too marked with shame at your failure and rage to pay him attention, and that alone sent him grabbing you by the neck and crash you against a vanity. Tossing everything above it to the floor.

Your back collided against the now shattered mirror, you yelped but still managed to slap him and that made him groan and nod frantically.

Yes

One of his hands was more than enough to hold your both arms as he positioned between your thighs, pressing further against you.

"You don't like me, Poppy? Why?"

"Let me go!"

His hand squeezed your neck tightly, cutting all air for a minute while he kissed you. Sloppy, angry and so full with lust and rage. It gave you no time to react while his other hand tore the panties from underneath your skirt.

You kept slapping him, but that only enticed him to spread you further

"Love that fucking spark on you, preciosa."

He then thrashed you against the table sending a painful jolt through your body, It made you still for a moment.

"No! No! Don't-" his eyes widened in panic, "Don't lose it. Please-"

"No" You panted, "Just found it" A flower vase was smashed in his forehead. And that granted you freedom from his hands as you fell on the floor, gasping for air and crawling away from him.

Heavy steps echoed, trailing dangerously after you. Miguel took you by the ankle and dragged you towards him.

"No!"

He hissed and pulled you upwards, like a statuette, and slammed your torso against the desk you had been clenching onto. All air knocked out your lungs.

A hand passed over his buckle and removed in a swift motion his belt in one go. The sight of your pussy peeking underneath the ruffles of your skirt made a smile that didn't reach his eyes to appear.

He quickly got the belt around your neck, your hands instantly pried, or at least tried to pry it away, scratching yourself in the process. The smell of copper filled in the air, the vase had broke the skin of his forehead.

"You fucking ungrateful bitch!"

He secured the belt tighter and you wheezed, hands flailed to get a hold of him. Fingers already prodding and toying with your cunt, to his surprise, the struggle and fight turned you on, knowing that a man wanted you so badly that would do anything to have you, and you denying such power had you soaked.

Specially when the man in question was this 6'9" cell guard that wanted nothing but to wreck you, destroy you the way you had destroyed his fucked up illusions.

"All I did for you, everything I did meant shit for you-"

He rasped before slapping your butt with such force it stung and left a red imprint on the now reddening flesh.

"I didn't... a-ask you for shit!"

He grunted at your broken words as he pulled the makeshift leash backwards, separated your legs and pulled out his cock once more.

"There we go, baby"

"Y-You're so pathetic-"

Words died in your throat as he slid inch by inch inside. The intrusion made you sob a feeble whimper, it burned and hurt, but in a way you weren't expecting and you liked it.

"Me? Pathetic? Ay muñeca, is not me whose gonna beg me to stop" He pulled your face towards him and kissed you once more, "You won't even remember your name once I'm done with you."

He buried to the hilt as he watched your expression. Troubled yet blissful. A little grip was loosened as he felt you were about to speak again.

"You talk too much shit-."

Part of you regretted said words, cause he smashed your head in the desk and dug his fingers around your hips.

"Is that so?"

Nothing had you prepared for the assailing onslaught of his hips. Fucking was a measly word compared to what he actually was doing to your poor and snug cunt.

It wasn't slapping, his hips thwacked yours with such force you were sure your cervix would be bruised and your legs wouldn't walk properly for the next few days, but as it hurt, it felt good. Too good for your own comfort. Specially when propped a leg ontop of a stool for more leverage to ruin you deeper.

A garbled moan came out your lips, before gritting your teeth together and shaking your head vehemently. He laughed in between deep growls and moans.

"Am I dulling that spark, muñeca?"

Your body lurched forwards, pussy drenched him with every remorseless push he delivered. Eyes struggling to keep on the front, but it was unavoidable to have them rolling back as your jaw slacked open.

High pitched wails rumbled out of your gaping mouth, permeating the once silent room. Two of his fingers slid in your mouth, hot breath colliding against them. They hooked forcing your mouth to keep open.

The desk shook under your weight, the room filled in with moans so sweet and delicious, unlike the many that had been under him.

You were experiencing first hand the danger. Miguel wasn't nice, he wasn't gentle. The latter made an emphasis on its own as he pulled the belt impossibly tighter. A gurgling and rasping noise came from your throat. He wasn't squeezing anymore, he was choking you.

And Dios mio, you were sure you'd die. But dying sounded way too much of a reward than staying in this awful place.

"Yes"

You hissed in between butchered pants and wheezing mewls. Mind set in welcoming the reaper as air was still cut out of your lungs. Legs too weak to keep on their own. Dizziness fogging your mind, fire engulfing your body, Your cunt slurped him in, wetness no longer an issue since he slid and out so easily.

The only indicator you still had consciousness was the little pathetic cries you did as his hips plowed you with a new intensity you didn't know possible.

He had been whispering the filthiest things into your ear, a couple of degrading words you couldn't quite hear, too busy being cock drunk and slipping in and out of consciousness.

Your torso and arms laid in between his arms and the desk, his upper body keeping you still as his hips did the whole assault. His face too snatched in a myriad of things.

Pride cause he finally got to have you and proved you wrong, lust cause you felt just like he had imagined, anger because of your previous words. He was the one that was rawing you into oblivion, had your brain turned upside down, not Gorski, and had you cumming with such an intensity it was overwhelming and too much for your brain to digest.

Too much.

The choking had your brain's fuse in a shortcut, shutting itself off for what it felt like forever, until he spilled himself inside. Renovating your walls white.

Hot cum spurted and not a single drop was wasted as he made sure you kept it inside.

His hulking figure trembled, torn in between subtle and violent spasms that shook him to his very core and raged pants that sent a shiver down your sore spine.

He finally had you and you were his. He wasn't letting you go. Not when he was about to give you a new purpose.

Being his.

---

Everything that he thought good and right blurred. Eyes filled in with tears at your state. Gone. Gone from this world, gone from him, the spark had vanished.

How this happened?

His mind raked through the memories, trying to find the right moment everything went to shit.

He signed a paper. A lobotomy authorization in your behalf.

No!, no!.

"Come back" He pleaded while kissing you and squeezing his hands on the joint of your head and shoulders, to pry something out of you. But nothing came.

The spark had been lost.

And so were you.

"Please, muñeca"

He sobbed and cradled you in his arms, but there was no push, no retaliation, nothing. Only a lovely vessel of his love.

You were gone. For real.

He had been so naive to believe that fucking you senseless meant to have you. He had been such a fool to fall for such a simple thing as that.

And now he had lost you. His own hand brought his demise. Guards and Gorski dragged him out, his hand latched on to you, but even your skin felt different.

"Poppy!"

He yelled but you didn't answer. Just watched him with a look that shattered his heart.

You were free. Free and far far away.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel smut #spiderman 2099 smut #sucker punch #t writes✨#one shot #Miguelverse

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 1 year

Text

Anger- Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Characters: Peter Parker

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 407

Author: Aaron

“I’m sure, come on. You aren’t going to hurt me I just want to get a little bit of practice in.” Peter stood in the alley, he jumped on the spot, shaking his arms as he did to ensure he was nice and loose as you stood surrounded by various chunks of debris you had found. “I do this all the time don’t sweat it.” You reeled your arm back, a small chunk of crumbled cinderblock in your hand. “Yeah come on y/n. Get some frustration out, let me have it.” You launched your arm forward, releasing the debris and sending it hurtling towards Peter, it hurtled towards his head but with a quick sidestep he easily removed himself from its path. “That was nothing. Get angry with it, get angry with me!”

“How am I supposed to get angry with you Peter, I love you, come on.” He shrugged deeply and pulled his mask from his face. “I couldn’t possibly get angry with you.”

“There must be something I do that pisses you off. Even if it’s just a little thing… I leave my clothes all over the floor instead of putting them in the wash basket.”

“Yeah, so do I but we take turns picking it all up.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I always leave everything to the last minute, and I don’t always take my shoes off when I walk into the apartment.” Well, he was right, that did annoy you sure, but what’s a little bit of procrastination and a little scuff on the carpet between two lovers… There was just nothing you could think of to be angry at him for. “You know your grandma’s spaghetti and meatball recipe that you make all the time and I tell you is really good?” He turned to you with fear and anxiety in his eyes as he stood against the wall. “I don’t really like it; I think the frozen stuff we used to get is better.”

Your hand clenched around the rock, and it flew straight and true at Peter’s head, he narrowly avoided it as it turned into a cloud of dust beside him, you reached down to grab another.

“y/n… y/n… I’m joking. I love your food. I only told you that to get you angry, so… I love the food, but can we keep that same energy, thanks!”

#Anger #Peter Parker #Peter Parker Imagine #Peter Parker One Shot #Spiderman #Spiderman Imagine #Spiderman One Shot #Avengers #Avengers Imagine #Avengers One Shot #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Marvel One Shot #Aaron

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wyvernest · 8 months

Text

mating szn

PART 2‼️ (part 1)

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

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

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

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

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

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

Too bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.

"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.)

You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.

"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.

He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.

Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.

You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.

Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.

The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.

As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.

His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.

He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his.

Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.

He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.

The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers.

Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.

Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties.

He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)

Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.

You gasp, a little above a moan.

"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.

He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.

Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.

Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.

Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.

You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.

Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.

A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.

He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust.

The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly.

His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.

Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.

“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts.

You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.

Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.

"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.

He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin.

He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.

With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.

He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.

He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

Dinner long forgotten.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing