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raymimomay · 7 months

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The Intern [2] | Miguel O'hara x M!Reader

#NSFW, Age Gap (mid 20s and mid 30s), reader's a homewrecker, Miguel's a cheater, mentions of toxic marriage, male!reader, bussy loading, porn with feelings, Miguel's a bit of a dickhead, top Miguel (for now), bottom reader (for now), blowjob, reader gets lectured and likes it, reader has daddy issues

Note: heheheheh

-- The Intern --

[ How it Started: 1/2 ] [2/2]

Miguel had to admit, he was surprised–he didn’t expect you to carry on like nothing happened.

Most people he’d fucked around with in the past, be it in school or during his tenacious dating life, would stomp their feet and quit whatever club, sport, or job they’d joined just to get close to Miguel, just to get a shot with him. He couldn’t blame them. He saw himself as a pretty good-looking guy, a smart man, one that took care of himself and could turn on the charm without even trying; he got what he wanted more often than not, and that included the people who threw themselves at him. He always wondered why they thought they’d somehow cement themselves into his life after just one night.

But then there was you. You, who still sat with Gabi when you had the time. You, who still helped her with her homework, who still listened to her long-winded rants about whatever movie she obsessed over that week, who still got the shy little thing to talk and smile and laugh. It made something weird and thick weigh down Miguel’s chest, like molasses found a way to suffocate him from the outside. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be fucked and forgotten like the rest.

And he found you there, still, on a day where Gabi was busy with a playdate at the Parker’s household. Maybe this was the best chance he’d get to talk to you again.

“Alone, huh?” Miguel asked before sitting across from you, a cup of coffee warming his hands. “Kinda sad.”

You sighed and looked out the window, filled to the brim with drama. “You’re tellin’ me. I got abandoned by a kid. This is worse than bein’ stood up, let me tell ya.”

Yikes. Was what Miguel did the same as standing you up? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it too much.

"Right, right." Miguel cleared his throat and leaned in a little. "About the other night–"

"What?" You asked, looking a little too dumb for your internship spot suddenly.

"Halloween." Miguel looked at you meaningfully and your lips pursed slowly, just like the day he first saw you. Miguel gave a tight-lipped smile.

You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. "I, uh, dunno if this is the right place to talk about that. Dunno if there is a right place to talk about that, if 'm bein' honest."

"Let's talk in my office," Miguel said, not offering room for argument or questions as he stood and started walking.

"Wh–now?"

"Yes, now."

–

Well, you were supposed to be talking, not blowing him under the desk. Thank god the department heads got their own private spaces.

One of Miguel's big hands fisted in your hair, holding back your soft locks so he could get a good look at your face as it twisted in concentration. You took him too easily for how big he was, each languid dip of your head welcoming him down your tight, hot throat until–until–

"Mierda–" Miguel pushed your head down to his base, forcing your nose flush up against his well-trimmed hair and blushing skin. You groaned and gagged as he bucked into your mouth and unloaded thick, sticky strands of cum down your throat. You swallowed around him, doing your best to take it all down.

A harsh bite from you had Miguel letting go and leaning back in his seat. He panted and rubbed his face, but his eyes snapped back to you as you took your time getting off of him. He expected you to pull off and make a mess while you snapped and scolded him, but you went slowly, not rushing.

Your tongue worked him through the aftershocks, rubbing under his length and thoughtfully tracing the thick veins and sensitive muscle still pulsing from your pampering. Miguel's fingers carded through your hair again as he watched you work; your hand slipped up and gripped his base once enough was out of your mouth to hold. You ran your tongue around him once, twice, thrice, before sucking on that thick, darkened head for much longer than necessary. Maybe you just wanted to be thorough. Maybe you just couldn't get enough of him.

"Gonna get me worked up again, 'f you keep doing shit like that," Miguel warned, something of an excited laugh fluttering through this soft panting.

You took a second to swallow (Oh, God, you were torturing him) before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Do you want me to get you all worked up again, Doc?"

That pesky hand around his shaft tightened before stroking him firmly and fully. Miguel sighed and melted into his chair. He could probably let you pamper him for hours, if his sex drive were to be trusted. Maybe he could–

"Kidding," you said with a mean wink. You kissed the tip of his cock before letting go and parking your ass on his desk. "So. About Halloween?"

Miguel blinked away the whiplash and scrambled to tuck himself away. "I, uh–yeah. Halloween." He nodded to himself in thought, definitely remembering what he wanted to discuss.

You stared at him, so expectant, before leaning in and resting your elbows on your knees. "N'awe, did I suck the brain cells right outta your pretty head, Doc?" You fake pouted, and Miguel scowled.

And he blushed. Just a little. "I just–I was just–y'know what? Maybe you deserved it."

"Pft. I deserved what?" You asked, leaning back onto your palms then. “Bein’ hit then quit?”

Miguel frowned. His brows drew together and his jaw set uncomfortably while he looked away. It seemed to make you a little uncomfortable by the way you moved to reach toward him before deciding against it. Your hand combed through your hair instead and you sighed, surrendering.

“Look, I–if I seriously expected the royal treatment from a guy totin’ a wedding band on his pretty lil’ finger, I’d be a shockin’ moron, alright?" You sighed and rubbed your face with both hands. "I mean--it's just s'pposed to be sex, man. Sex ain't complicated like that."

Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. "I’m–what are you–sex is complicated." His palms landed on your thighs as he leaned in. “You don’t actually think–”

"Sex is busting and moving on with life,” You interrupted sharply. You grew tense for a moment, but forced a relaxed laugh. “I'm kinda surprised you didn't get me fired, if I'm being real."

The realization hit Miguel fast and hard, knocking the goddamn wind out of his stupid lungs--you were the type of guy left in the dust, the sort that shit heads like Miguel hit and quit, fucked and forgot. The sorry dregs of an exciting sex life filled with names he didn't care about and some he couldn't bother to remember. But Miguel knew your name. But did that even matter to you?

"But, uh…I should get goin', so. Yeah. Good talk." You made your move to shuffle off the desk, but Miguel's hands on your thighs didn't budge. "Oy, I gotta go, old man. You hard of hearing already? Should I call the nursing home or–"

"Santa Muerte, do you ever stop talking?" Miguel sighed and shook his head. "I haven't said my piece yet, kid."

You pursed your lips, probably holding back some cursed joke about giving him a blowie, and nodded. "Okay. Say your piece."

"I will. And you're gonna shut up while I talk, got it?"

"Got it."

"Good." Miguel took a deep breath to calm the storm in his chest. "First of all, you've got the wrong idea about sex. It matters. Even if you're just sleeping around, it's because you're looking for that connection. It's a good thing. A beautiful thing. So, I don't want to hear you say all this shit about sex not mattering. Especially when you're talking about sex with me." He looked you up and down, and the fond feeling curled up his chest stretched and lazed like a cat sunbathing. "Got it?"

You nodded, a vibrant dusting of red saturating your skin. That doe-eyed look was back on your face, just like the first time you'd hooked up with him in his office. He really did adore it. He maybe kinda adored you.

"Good." He fidgeted with your slacks, pulling on the crisp material with busy fingers as he thought about sentence structure and syntax and connotation and–and–

Just say it, Miguel. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween."

You laughed shyly. "I--what?" He watched you rub your cheek like you were trying to rid yourself of the scarlet blush staining your skin. Miguel had to admit, your reactions were doing wonders for his ego.

"I said," He started, leaning in a little, lowering his voice. "I shouldn't have left you on Halloween." After a pause, a beat to get you to say something, he continued, "I'm sorry, alright? It's not happening again."

Another laugh (more like a giggle) bubbled out of you, just as nervous and shy as the last. Your hands fussed with your hair and your tie, your lab coat and your cuffs, until your nerves calmed a bit, the slow circles rubbed into your thighs helping to ease you down from hysteria. It was embarrassing. You were embarrassed. But you were happy.

"Y-yeah, alright. Cool. Neat." You coughed. "Awesome. Uh, I just–you–I have to–" and you leaned down, almost tumbling off the desk, and kissed him.

Miguel hummed deep in his chest–a heartfelt welcome to your needs and wants. His chair shifted slightly as you haphazardly slipped off the desk and into his lap, expertly never breaking the kiss, and getting comfortable; your arms looped around his shoulders, your hands fisted and carded through his hair, your thighs rested on either side of his slim waist.

“You’re shockin’ hot when you’re bein’ nice t’ me,” you mumbled against his lips, maybe a bit into his mouth. “But in that, y’know, authoritative dad kinda way.” Your breath stuttered when a mischievous hand slipped into your slacks and cupped your toned ass with a firm squeeze.

Miguel smirked. “Daddy issues, huh?” Your small scoff and the firm tug of his hair answered him. His smirk warped into a grin. “Want me to scold you more, huh? You get off on that?”

“You keep talkin’ shit and I’m calling you papi in public, dickhead,” you mumbled as you fumbled with the zipper of his pants. You paused though, and looked up in thought. “But you could help me with my taxes. That’d be really sexy of you.”

Miguel blinked stupidly for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised you’re shit at taxes?” God, you were cute.

“Hey, hey, I’m not shit at them, I just hate them.” You shrugged before very casually slipping his hard-on out of his pants and giving it a few preparatory strokes. “Could use some tips.”

“Or an accountant,” Miguel offered. It was your turn to blink dumbly. “You think I handle my own money? I pay someone to do it.”

“Huh. You’re seriously in a different tax bracket.” You squeaked when Miguel somehow managed to rip down your slacks down to your mid-thigh. “Hey–”

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He helped the pants off of you while you half-stood to get the damn things off, letting them hang off one leg in your haste to get the party started. “And I’ll get my accountant to take care of your taxes.”

That had you beaming. “I think we’re entering sugar daddy territory, Doc.” You grinned between the sweet kisses you dotted along his jawline. Miguel felt the barest scraping of teeth against his skin, and his cock swelled more. What he wouldn’t give to let you bite and marr him as you wanted.

But he couldn’t, not with Dana’s skeptical eyes and Gabi’s naive glances watching him from every angle.

“It’s our little secret,” Miguel whispered with a kiss left against your cheek.

Your lips found his again, letting your impish smile sear his skin with sanguine intent, like a contract signed with the devil.

Miguel would do anything to keep extending that contract.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #raysmut

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raymimomay · 7 months

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baby-sitting for miguel o'hara. (part ii)

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part i.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, top!miguel, soft!miguel at times!!, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, thoughts of sex, fantasy!sex, masturbation, humping, kinda domestic idk.

notes: it's been a long time coming. 💀 i honestly was struggling to find like a plot for the second part, or just how to move forward. lmao. but i hope this turned out okay???

—never again, miguel promised himself that night.

—it had been a few weeks since he last jerked off to your briefs. the blue undergarment that he came into were thrown somewhere under his bed, far from his reach.

—and as tempting as it was to smell you again, he mustered up the courage to leave the stained fabric alone.

—for good.

—miguel despised what he had become.

—settling his sex life on a lone piece of fabric, it was pathetic.

—from dusk til dawn, you participated in a triathlon of his delirious state of mind and competed for several awards that would then be mediated by miguel.

—had it been a real competition, he would’ve been fired for exhibiting extreme favoritism because you’d win all the trophies and medals.

—a ‘helping hand’ award he would award you a few mornings ago, where he jerked off to the thought of you giving him a handjob during his lunch break.

—multiple ‘most improved’ awards for when you were able to throat his cock a little more than before.

—and another for when your ass was able to take miguel in without needing to pause or adjust for his size, even if the strain of your facial expressions told a different story.

—gagging in between moans, coughing out thick globs of spit, wincing in bittersweet pain when he pushed in, arching in complete pleasure when he pushed out.

—he loved the idea of watching and hearing you struggle because of his cock.

—though, it was only until recently when he began feeling a strong sense of guilt for portraying you in such a manner.

—it was a promotion at work that allowed his hours to be more flexible than before, and miguel utilized that to the fullest by spending every waking second with his daughter.

—and you.

—even when he came home early, he never sent you home.

—maybe it was the perfect opportunity to get one step closer into your pants.

—or maybe he wanted to get to know the babysitter that gabriella had taken an extreme liking to.

—get to know the babysitter that had somehow made miguel feel something more than simply lust.

—you hungry? you haven’t taken your eyes off of your thesis paper since i got here.

—hm...?

—that night, you’d look up at him with those bright eyes, that bright smile that latched onto miguel’s adam apple and made it hard for him to swallow.

—it was as radiant as the first time he saw you. one wouldn’t be able to tell that you’ve been pulling all-nighters for the past few weeks.

—oh! i guess i’m a little hungry. i haven’t eaten since breakfast—

—breakfast? i told you that you could rummage through the pantries, right? you practically live here at this point.

—i know, i know! once i get in the zone, i kind of forget about everything… except for gabriella! it’s funny. as loud as her cries are, they’re kind of my savior right now.

—hm...

—it’s getting late, so i’ll just whip up something at home—

—no, stay. i’ll cook something.

—sir, you don’t have to—

—miguel’s chest swelled. that word again.

—i’m cooking. stay, or i’m firing you for wasting my ingredients.

—hey, unfair! pretty sure that’s a violation of our contract or something!

—it didn’t take long for it to become a regular occurrence.

—miguel would cook a late dinner for two, and he’d join you on the couch with a plate of what the limit of his culinary skills could whip up.

—it wasn’t like this every day, but it was often, which was more than what miguel could ask for.

—he would use the little time he had with you to learn about you more. your interests, your background, your passions, your personality, and you’d do the same.

—on some nights, he’d proof-read your thesis paper and provide some feedback that you would immediately take in consideration and make the changes to your paper.

—on many nights, he’d simply close your laptop and force you to take a break because as alluring as those recent eye bags were, your health was a priority.

—stay for the night. it’s late.

—i’m almost done for the night! i just have a few more—

—nope, you’ve used up all your excuses. i’m confiscating this.

—where am i even supposed to sleep?!

—and on those many nights, you’d end up sleeping on miguel’s couch despite the persistent offers of his comfier bed.

—there would be times where you two would chat into the night while the tv played in the background.

—you’d ask each other about your day, tell stories about gabriella, bond over shared interests, fueled debates over a quality of a certain movie, until fatigue hit either you or miguel.

—usually you were the first one to fall asleep, and he would watch you silently.

—the flickering lights from the tv would accentuate your features in the night, and he never knew he could find you even more handsome.

—your complete vulnerability was enticing.

—you would curl into the blanket he’d given you, and miguel would take the time to count the seconds it would take for you to exhale your dreams.

—the longer it was, the deeper you were into your sleep.

—it wouldn’t be until thirty exhales more that miguel would send himself to bed.

—five seconds, miguel would find himself mimicking the pattern of your breath before he drifted off into the night.

—then there would be nights where the subject matter would be more personal, more than miguel would have liked.

—does it get lonely sometimes?

—i’d be lying if i said no. not all the time, though. i have gabriella.

—huh…

—is that why you’re a complete grump all the time?

—watch it.

—i’m kidding! good thing you have me too, right?

—yeah.

—good thing i have you too… miguel sighed heavily at the empty side of his bed, staring into the darkness until the shadows from the night had forged a shape of your body.

—he closed his eyes when he felt a whisper of your lips near his, barely ghosting over his pair, and stroke himself to the possible reality of you becoming his.

—fuck... he then lied on his stomach and began humping into the bed, against the bed sheets, and held the imagination of your body close to his own, protecting you like his life depended on it.

—i need you… miguel pressed his face into the pillow, inhaling the memory of your shampoo as he polished his hips further into the bed.

—his cock rubbed in between his body and the soft sheets as he’d imagine unsheathing himself in and out of you at a slow yet steady pace.

—because he needed to savor you.

—he would imagine how you’d respond with every thrust.

—your words would glue to your throat because you’d be too overwhelmed by his size, by the pleasure that miguel would finally be delivering to you, by the doting hold around you, and with the aid of his hips, your words would like crystallized honey.

—miguel would push his cock into you deeper, taking in the sound of your voice into his with a warm kiss. — i—

—you would draw out sounds from your throat until they were practically begs when miguel would pull out excruciatingly slow to tease, then a demand as he would doubt your confession by cautiously following the outline of your pucker with the tip of his cock.

— need—

—his hips would lift, then come down onto you like hail. hard and sudden as his cock would ram into your tight fill, knock your breath back into the tight of your throat.

— you—

—you need him.

—miguel could tell from the way you completed allowed him to invade your reserve until he was balls-deep inside of you.

—from the way he’d pull out once more and your hole would memorize the shape of his cock, down to his thick girth. puckering to the recollection of his throbbing veins.

—and he’d be the one to bridge the puzzle pieces together as he would press himself forward and bend your legs back before slamming his cock back into you with the delirious evocation of lust.

—you would stifle your moans into your forearm as the bed rocked to the strong rhythm of miguel’s thrusts, but he’d pull your arms away and hold your wrists above your head.

—he needed to hear you.

—hear how much you wanted him, how much you needed him.

— i’m going to come—

—you’d grunt in between the heavy and sticky sounds of your skin colliding against one another, into the thick air that you and miguel had mutually forged together.

—his other hand had been wrapped around your cock, jerking the throbbing muscle to every count of his balls bouncing off your bottom.

—he would squeeze and stroke, your pre-cum coming down in thick drips, and he would thumb at the slippery wet slip until the pad of his thumb was layered in your thick substance.

—until his fist was covered in a glorious amount of your warm cum, inking him deep with your devotion before feeding you of your own need.

—he would bring his hand up to you and slip two fingers inside of your mouth. your tongue would slowly roll over his cum-covered digits, sucking the bittersweetness off of him.

—it wouldn’t be long until it would be miguel’s turn.

—miguel would continue bringing the remaining fingers up to your mouth for you to cleanse him off, and it would be enough for him to have him in shambles.

—imagining you devour your own sweet lust until all five of his fingers were polished clean awakened him to another level of pure ecstasy, and miguel groaned, rocking desperately into his bed.

—your warm hands would all over his toned body, fueling the tension in his stomach as you would prioritize the center of his abdomen.

—fuck, come in me—

—miguel would his weight onto you, his large body practically devouring you in sheer size as the heat and sweat confined you to the parameters, and he’d hold you close once more by slipping his arms around you.

—a cycle of thrusts quickened every round and you held onto him. kissing at the side of his neck. suckling at the round of his shoulder.

—i’m coming… he muttered to himself, to no one but the wrinkled sheets beneath him, and fucked his cock harder into his bed.

—and when you heard a shudder coming from the depths of miguel’s strained throat, you licked a stripe at the center of his throat to pacify him, making your way to the plush of his lips, and kissed him at the pivot of his climax.

—miguel would exhale hard against your mouth before kissing you and spilling delirious moans into the captivity when he would begin flooding your insides with his thick and warm cum.

—heavy ropes would ricochet off your violated inside, but miguel would press into you closer, harder, and intimately so, until your foreheads were bruised into one another.

—in occurring reality, miguel painted his bed sheets in thick layers of warmth and musk. layers of cum wetting his bed as he desperately held onto his fantasies with sensitive rolls of his hips.

—his tongue would tangle into yours, practicing a slow, sensitive waltz as his softening cock would sink deep into your hole.

—and you would moan and suckle around him as you felt every drop of cum warm you from the inside and out, shielding you from the goosebumps that would frost your skin.

—the kiss would remain its passionate dance as you both relaxed into each other. your legs unwrapped to tangle into miguel’s, expertly lifting the blanket over your feet in the process.

—he would hold you tighter once he broke the kiss, turning you on your side as he lied flat on his back.

—your head would rest on his chest after pulling the remaining blanket up to your bodies and you would sigh, suddenly feeling drowsier with miguel’s warm caress aiding sleep against your back.

—for the remaining moment, he would gaze at the sheen of sweat that highlighted the flush of your skin.

—he would listen to the beat your heart, slowly coming to its resting pace as you succumb to sleep under the spell of his doting touch.

—and he would strangely feel a need to hold you, shelter you inside of his arms because he feared something would happen to you.

—fuck.

—miguel quickly rolled back onto his back in the midst of catching his breath, the shadows that had formed the image of you unfurling into obscurity.

—he felt his heart race, bullets rebounding off the beating surface like a drum, and he placed a hand over his chest to pacify at the sudden swell of his chest. —i think i love you.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x male reader #miguel x male reader #raysmut

1K notes · View notes

raymimomay · 7 months

Text

baby-sitting for miguel o'hara.

miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.

part ii.

warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, stalker!miguel, top!miguel, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, weak!male reader, sir!kink, thoughts of sex, masturbation, fingering, spying, kinda dubcon (?), heavily focused on sweat and smelly musk (hehe).

notes: say hi to my first miguel story! i couldn't stop thinking about him ever since I rewatched the movie, tbh.

—at first, miguel was rather reluctant to hire you for babysitting.

—your experience was almost non-existent, if it hadn’t been for that one time you babysat your nephew… eight years ago. of course, you left that part of information out.

—but miguel deemed you trustworthy, concluded that so even before he ran a background check on you.

—and so far, he seemed correct.

—on the first day, he was just as nervous as you were, leaving his precious and sacred gift to the world with a complete stranger—it was frightening and if he had the choice, he wouldn’t have done this.

—he would tell you about the cameras installed throughout the house—mostly for the safety of gabriella’s, but your well-being was also a considerate factor in this choice.

—you were small, and if miguel said that you looked weak, you’d probably say a questionable thank you considering how quietly submissive you were towards him.

—later that first night, miguel knew he made the right choice in picking you (out of a measly three candidates, but still).

—you managed to get gabriella to sleep by her bedtime, one routine that miguel still hadn’t figured out yet.

—but to be fair, babies woke up and slept according to their own terms, so did they really have a bedtime other than day, afternoon, and night?

—like the first night of many, you bid him goodbye after being paid.

—goodnight, sir! i’m pretty much free all summer until my semester starts, so if you need me on stand by or something… go crazy!

—all right, I’ll keep that in mind.

—and… thank you.

—something ignited in him when you guys spoke. it must’ve been… what, your fourth interaction together?

—the first few have been more formal—interviewing you, introducing you to gabriella, and checking up on you with a phone call. it was limited, a thick barrier that miguel would put up between you and him because it was work—just work.

—even though he sent you off fairly quick, the interaction was long enough for him study you like he never did before.

—he never realized how handsome you were, optimism practically seeping from your smile to your voice. it was a stark contrast to his moodiness, strained by the constant amount of stress put on by work, and furthermore by an ongoing divorce case.

—but he liked you, more than he’d like to admit.

—miguel liked the way you would tuck your shirt into your pants. a younger version of him would’ve labelled you a nerd, church boy even.

—but he found it attractive when the fabric laid on your chest with the right amount of tightness—a slightest exposure that would have him staring for an embarrassing amount of time.

—he also found it attractive when the peak of summer closed in on you.

—one day, you would show up at his doorstep in shorts.

—you preferred walking.

—no wonder you were so radiant to him, you practically soaked in the sun every day before you two would meet.

—sorry if i look like a mess, sir- i look gross, don’t i?

—that feeling in him returned again, churned like butter as he would watch the sweat calmly roll down your aching legs.

—i’d be lying if i told you no, wouldn’t i?

—you were a mess, miguel would go on to agree to himself. not because of the way your hair sparkled in the sun as it latched onto sweat—but because of the way you were completely oblivious to how you made him feel.

—it only grew stronger with subsequent meetings.

—you can use my shower, you know. it’s gotta be uncomfortable to be sweaty in those clothes for—what—eight hours?

—no, no! I’m fine, sir. i don’t think it would be right of me to-

—well, just throwing it out there in case you needed to.

—next time, then!

—and the next time, you would carry an extra bag of clothes because you and miguel both knew the outcome.

—it was a proud moment when miguel could smell his body wash on you when you left that night.

—sure, he probably bought the most generic brand he could find. but he has never smelt that scent on you before, so it inflated his ego to know that you’d be walking home in his usual scent.

—sleeping in his scent.

—like every other night, a shower would mark the end of miguel’s day. it was his favorite pastime—all thoughts were left behind as soon as he stepped under the shower head, letting the warm spray of water wash him of stress.

—when he stepped out, something caught his eye in the corner of the tiled floor—something blue.

—your briefs.

—you forgot to take your briefs with you because you were rushing when you heard gabriella suddenly cry.

—it would’ve been off-putting by anyone else, but this was you.

—this was your briefs, miguel would then hold up like a trophy. a piece of fabric that would contain and cover you—touch your most vulnerable parts.

—with the current feelings miguel had for you, it would’ve been a missed opportunity if he simply threw it in the washer.

—so, he doesn’t.

—11 am. where miguel would usually find himself sleeping by this hour—he was inhaling the scent of your musk instead, scrunching your sweat-stained briefs to his face as he jerked off in bed.

—in all honestly, he was ashamed to admit that he loved the smell of your sweat.

—but miguel would nonetheless take deep whiffs, desperate to smell you in your most vulnerable state.

—and he comes at the very last second when he can.

—it wasn’t enough for him though, so miguel doesn’t waste a single second to jerk himself off again—his cum lubing his sensitive cock up with a generous amount of stickiness and slick.

—good morning, sir!

—(m/n), i thought i said that you can call me miguel?

—oh… right! sorry, that completely slipped my mind. i must’ve forgotten.

—never stop forgetting, miguel muttered to himself, fucking his heavy cock into the depth of your briefs.

—he loved the way you called him sir. it made him feel authoriative and only fueled his want and need to protect you—you and your weak body.

—you’d be powerless if something were to happen to you, and the chances of that happening were well in your wits since you continued to insist on walking home.

—unbeknownst to you, every night miguel would follow you in the shadows—an undisclosed bodyguard of some sort—until you reached home.

—even then, he wasn’t fully relaxed because most crimes always took place domestically.

—he would watch you from below, through your window, for quite some time, making sure your parents’ house was a danger-free zone.

—and it wasn’t until you took your pants off and began stroking yourself through those same blue briefs, that he was finally at peace.

—fuck... miguel stopped fucking into your briefs to take another whiff of the fabric until his nostrils stung—a mixture of you and him together now.

—the fabric clung around miguel’s cock as his thick precum was the only glue that pieced him and the presence of you together.

—he would think back to how you would suck on two of your fingers as you stroked yourself to nothing but lewd thoughts—your eyes tightly closed to visualize your perverted mind into reality.

—what are you thinking about? who are you thinking about? is it me? are you thinking about my cock?

—the air in his bedroom has gotten heavier, thick with sex as he sweated under the cloud of you fingering yourself with the clumsiest yet neediest precision.

—he spat on his cock to slick it up again—because he could go on for hours—replaying back to the night where he watched you completely juxtapose with the innocent image he had of you prior.

—your hips were lifted up, legs awkwardly bent back as you dug into yourself, working your hole open deeper with one, then two, then three fingers because—miguel was right. like a spell, you were thinking of him and his cock.

—he had to be big, you were so sure of it. the fact that you strained your neck from looking up at him was a telling sign that he was, as ignorant as that was.

—and you were practically drooling at the thought of his cock stuffing you with the most fulfilling amount of pain and pleasure.

—you’d want him to be ruthless with you and show no mercy as he couldn’t care less about the way you whimpered and cried out for him to stop.

—fucking you from behind as his strong arms held you in a headlock, applying pressure that would frighten a choke out of you.

—because you were nothing but his fuck toy.

—it was all overwhelming for miguel on that night, almost too good to be true and he had to squeeze his cock through his sweats to make sure this was reality.

—you would confirm that it was, with the image of you coming all over your chest and stomach, all to the pathetic plunging of your fingers.

—and miguel does too, coming powerfully, to the point of shudders running down his broad back, into a part of your briefs where it would hold your own dick because he wants his smell to be imprinted on you, inked deep into your flesh.

—until you smelled like his.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #raysmut

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raymimomay · 9 months

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He is so hot!!! Episode 5 had a death grip on me!!! 💖💖💖😔

#clark kent #ray art #superman #dc comics #dc universe #lois lane #superman and lois #my adventures with superman #clark x lois

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raymimomay · 10 months

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THIS IS AMAZING😭💖

Sunny's Masterlist

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

Part I - "Web of Secrets"

Part II - "Webs of Fate"

Part III - "Web of Shadow and Light"

Part IV - "Webs of Redemption" (coming soon)

alternative universe Drabble requests:

fluff ☁️ smut 🌞 angst ⚡️

Playtime with Miguel O' Hara 🌞

A letter from the sun ⚡️

#rayrambles #rayfics

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raymimomay · 10 months

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CANT WAIT TO READ THIS!!! ILL DEFINITELY DRAW IT😭💖

𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 | miguel o'hara

series masterlist.

— cross posted to ao3

🎵 Gods & Monsters — Lana Del Rey

summary . . . You are a hunter trained to kill any vampire in sight. You took an oath swearing your life to defend humanity from these devils. So, why are you protecting him?

pairing . . . miguel o'hara x reader

contains . . . fem!reader, vampire!miguel, modern setting, legal age gap, no spidey powers, religious themes, fluff, angst (mostly angst), violence, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual smut

note from evyn <3 . . . i don't know anything about vampires so please excuse me as i will be making up vampire lore. i'm also still planning the rest of the chapters but just a warning, im very indecisive and can never stick to on conrete plan so please excuse any sudden changes. btw there will def be more than three chapters, thats just ahwta i have planned for now. posting the mastrlist in hopes it will hold me accountable to actually write lol - 7/23/23

index.

! = nsfw

chapter one

Set two years earlier, you and other hunters are on a stakeout when you're ambushed by vampires.

chapter two

Set a year earlier, it's a quiet day and you're enjoying some much needed relaxation when you have an unsuspected visitor at your door.

chapter three

Present day in the timeline, council members are starting to get suspicious of you harboring a fugitive.

#rayrambles #ray art

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raymimomay · 10 months

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OHHHH I MIGHT DRAW THIS💖💖💖

Vampire!Miguel O’Hara Headcanons!

He has been living in my head RENT FREE ever since I saw the movie last week and rightfully so cause my lord does his fangs have me weak 😮‍💨 expect something more full-fledged written out on his fangs and the vampire AU- reader is gender neutral!

A/N: in this AU Lyla is a vampire instead of AI (but still his assistant somewhat) and this is kinda sorta based off of this post!

It’s been a tragic and lonely life for Miguel. The last time he truly felt at peace was when you were still by his side- his dear, sweet, human lover

Just the thought of you caused him unbearable pain- he remembers the good moments, the fleeting kisses and more- and then he remembers you dying in his arms, your blood coating his hands as you tried to comfort him. That’s how kind you were- spending your last moments alive choking out how much you love him before you passed on

He’s been an empty shell ever since, even after hundreds of years. The world continued to evolve, and it took a while for Miguel to adapt with it. Having Lyla helped him stay sane somewhat, but he would never be able to let go of the past- of you

He was bitter and angry- angry at your kind for your death, angry at himself for not being able to save you, angry that you’re not here. All it took was one glance at your portrait and his fury would boil over. It’s been nights where Lyla would have to leave him be as he tore apart his home, no way of calming him down. Those nights, while now very rare, were hard to witness

He was able to blend in with humans- somewhat. It wasn’t a secret that a lot of people were attracted to him, even if Miguel made it clear that he wasn’t interested (he would always tell you that if his heart did beat, it would beat solely for you). But he could deal with it if it meant getting a meal out of it (and getting rid of some of his annoyances and pent up frustration all at once)

But he does enjoy some of the modern inventions that came out of this time (as much as he hates to admit)- and it lead him to finding something he once lost years ago

It was only an accident- in a rush someone bumped into him outside on the way home. A minor inconvenience, one that he can scoff and glare at (he sometime forgets to be mindful of his fangs if he’s really irritated)-

Until he smelled it- the sweet, comforting scent that drove him wild, that made his fangs poke out in dire need for more. Your scent

He couldn’t believe it- has he finally gone mad? But as he whipped around, he saw you facing him. You- donned in this time period’s clothes, bright eyes gazing at him like all those years ago. It was you, it was you!

Miguel know that he looks like a fool, mouth agape while his eyes blown out. He wanted to take you in his arms so bad, hands outstretched with his a genuine smile that he hasn’t worn in years-

Until he sees your confusion and remembers that you don’t know nor remember him

He’s heartbroken as his hands return to his side- but then he gets an idea and newfound determination. You both were given another chance, and he has nothing but time to remind you of what was once before

He plays off his mistake well (always the charmer and gentleman) and it doesn’t take much before he’s taking your hand in his, introducing himself and vice versa. How long has it been since he’s heard your melodic voice? He had to repress his groan when his name left your lips, a shiver going down his spine. The same warmth he missed has finally returned, and all he wants to do is soak it all in

He already has Lyla finding all of your social media accounts and more when he walks away- wanting to know your interests/hobbies, where you work, if anyone is interested in you, where you live- everything

Outsiders wouldn’t be able to tell (but Lyla could after knowing him for literal hundreds of years), but Miguel’s attitude has improved after his encounter with you. He’s still uptight and stone face, but he’s gotten a bit softer with his approach to others and has a little more patience (if you squint). He’s also going to her more for “advice” (ie. tell me what to do to win (Y/N) back now)

This is probably the greatest moment in her life knowing Miguel actually wants her in his business for once lmao

Miguel’s delusional in a sense- he wants back what he lost so long ago that he’s willing to do anything to have you back. He’s already making a plan on what needs to be done before you can come home with him, setting up arrangements to make your arrival comfortable when the time comes

His appetite isn’t yet satisfied- if anything it’s grown more in anticipation. Miguel couldn’t let himself go feral and scare you off, so he needed to feed before he saw you. Just thinking about how sweet your blood smelled had his head spinning- you were too tempting to be around already, especially when he’s hungry

He couldn’t stop thinking about you before, but now he really can’t- he’s imagining all of the new memories you’ll make together once you’re with him. His love for you hasn’t changed, even if it pains him that you don’t remember any of it

He’s already lost you once, and he refuses to let it happen again

He’s made the mistake of not turning you the first time- he doesn’t plan on making it again

#rayrambles #ray art

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raymimomay · 10 months

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A big hug from Miguel!

"its big" - y/n

#miguel o'hara fanart #miguel o'hara #astv fanart #x y/n #y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #ray art #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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raymimomay · 10 months

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after hours Alchemax Miguel

What will he do next?

#spiderman #across the spiderverse #astv fanart #miguel o'hara fanart #miguel o'hara #spiderverse fanart #Spiderverse #digital art

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raymimomay · 11 months

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#ray art #rayrandoms #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanart #spiderman 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #Spiderman #Spiderverse #lego spiderman #digital art

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raymimomay · 11 months

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i need u all to hear me out on this pls pls pls pls pls pls pls

dad's bsf! miguel who always calls you kiddie names like 'little bug' and 'niñita' whenever you greet him at the door, only to be met with big pouts and crossed arms while you yell '''m not a kid anymore, miguel! 'm twenty one now!' he never takes you seriously despite this. just pats your head with a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.

dad's bsf! miguel who insists on driving you home after your classes end. you tell him 'it's okay! i live on campus!' but no matter how much you try to convince him you were okay with walking, he ends up taking you any because 'little bugs like you can't walk out here alone', though a part of him knows that's an excuse.

dad's bsf! miguel who can't put a tie on correctly for the life of him. you always get irritated when you see his messy tie before he leaves with your dad for a night of partying. 'you're just like dad!' you tell him. you always tug him down by his tie, your cute chubby hands working on the tie while miguel looked down at you with a smile, ignoring your annoyed grumbles.

dad's bsf! miguel who always insists that your father should go easy on you when you two get into a small fight. 'she's still a baby girl, compa. be easy on her'. he says with kind eyes as he watches you sniffle in the hallway. 'she's twenty one with car payments due, miguel, my god'. despite your father's scolding, you know you can always count on mr. o'hara to comfort you.

dad's bsf! miguel who can't say no to you. his best friend tells him that you're older now, he doesn't need to approve everything you do. miguel tells his best friend that he knows and he'll do better, but he can't help it when you bat your eyelashes so prettily at him and ask him for things in your sweet, honey voice. 'please, mr. o'hara?'

dad's bsf! miguel who takes spoils you. and i mean spoils you. you want a new phone? you got it, just don't tell your dad. you need a ride to sneak out somewhere? okay, just don't tell your dad. you want that new bathing suit at the mall? sure, just show mister o'hara what it looks like first. that's not weird! he wants to make sure it's a material good enough for you.

dad's bsf! miguel who always scolds you when you wear revealing clothing. 'it's just not appropriate' he tells you as he gazes a bit too long at your tummy sticking out from the cropped long sleeve you were wearing. 'why do you care?' you roll your eyes. the words 'you're not my dad' fly out of your mouth as you shove him aside to leave with your friends. he always watches your hips sway as you walk out.

dad's bsf! miguel who comforts you after a big breakup. fat tears roll down your cheeks as you sobbed in miguel's chest, him holding you up on his lap with a sympathetic look in his eye. 'i loved him s'much!' you cried as you shifted in miguel's lap to hold onto him better. he winces, and you think it's because his leg fell asleep, but you couldn't be more wrong. miguel bumped his leg up 'n' down as he soothed you. 'he's stupid, doesn't know what he's missing out on, niñita'.

dad's bsf! miguel who spends days with you after the fact to make you feel better. he's around every day with the excuse of helping around the house to your father when in reality he sneaks away into your room comforting you and laughing at stupid movies while you were cuddled up against his chest.

dad's bsf! miguel who finds you dancing around on the streets drunk with your friends. you’re crying and laughing at the same time while your friends tried to calm you down, concerning miguel, so he decided to let the other poor girls go home while he dealt with you. he laid a warm, comforting hand on the chub of your thigh as you cried, not knowing how hot it made you feel.

dad's bsf! miguel who gets whiplash when you confess that you like him. like, like him. you're drunk and your words are slurred but he can still make out your shaky-voiced confession of 'always imagined you when he fucked me, mr. o'hara'. even though he felt the same, you were still his best friend's daughter, plus you were drunk. he takes you to his house and tucks you into his bed while he lies awake on his couch contemplating what the hell just happened.

dad's bsf! miguel who wakes up to you in one of his shirts, one he had left out for you the night before. you stood in front of his place on the couch, twiddling your fingers and muttering a small, slightly teary-eyed apology.

dad's bsf! miguel who consoles you with an embrace as you embarrassingly admit everything you said was true. he tells you 'it's okay, little bug' and 'there's nothing to be embarrassed about'. when you cry and tell him that you were sorry and that you know he didn't feel the same, his heart aches a bit. of course he feels the same, don't feel bad! he doesn't know what possesses him to do so, but he leans in and kisses you. it's sweet and short, but you return it.

dad's bsf! miguel who holds you tight while he kisses you, his hips snapping as he drills into your cunt, his eyes shut tight in bliss. 'love you, love you so much, niñita. love you 'n' this pussy'. he muttered into your ear. you sniffled and nodded in a daze as you held him tighter, your breasts pressed up against him. he held your soft sides and groaned as he felt the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

'been wantin' you for so long, little bug. wanting to give mi niña what she deserves'. he sucked in air through his teeth as he felt your soft hand against his cheek. he opened his eyes, making eye contact with you through the small tears in his eyes forming. you gave him a shaky smile, giving him a small peck with a giggle.

the moment was so intimate it made miguel feel warm. he returned the smile and watched as you bit your lip. 'i love you, mr. o'hara'. you whispered to him, your walls tightening around his cock. miguel let out a broken moan, his eyes still focused on you.

'i love you too, little bug'.

this was a bit much but i hope u enjoyed!! i wrote this during class while stressing about a test so i apologize if this lacked but yea <3

#rayfandoms #rayfics

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