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#Oscar Isaac smut
bit-dodgy-innit · 3 days
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We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders
Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.
Set in between ITSV and ATSV.
Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader
For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.
Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!
CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.
A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!
Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!
I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING
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“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 
The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”
Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 
“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”
You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 
“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 
“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 
“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”
“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 
“Me? No, it's my day off.”
“Then why are you here?” 
“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 
“You and me both,” he huffed. 
“That being said, anything I can help you with?”
“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 
Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 
Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  
“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“
“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 
No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 
Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 
“Sí. Follow me.”
You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 
It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 
It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 
Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 
“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 
If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 
Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 
Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 
“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 
Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”
“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 
“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”
“Quantitatively?” 
“Preferably.” 
“That’s impossible.” 
“Qualitatively, then.” 
“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 
“When did your dad first hear it?” 
“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 
“Checks out. And how old was he?” 
“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 
Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 
“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”
“Yeah.” 
Miguel nodded again. 
“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 
Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 
The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 
Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 
“Qué?” 
“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”
Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”
“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 
He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 
“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 
“But we just got started.” 
“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”
“Won’t he under–”
You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 
He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 
“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”
And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 
You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 
“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 
“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”
The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 
“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 
Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 
“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”
You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 
“How can it not be strange to care for–”
“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 
Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 
“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”
“Why?”
“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 
Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 
You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 
When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 
It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 
“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 
“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.
The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 
Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 
“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 
But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 
You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 
It was Miguel. 
Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 
He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”
“We work together,” you said quietly. 
“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 
“No, at my other job.” 
“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 
“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 
“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”
Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 
You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 
“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 
“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 
“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 
“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 
“You too, Dr. Parker.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 
“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 
Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 
“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 
“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 
Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 
Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”
“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 
Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 
“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 
Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 
“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 
“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”
“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”
Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 
“Sorry about them,” you began. 
He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 
“My family. Embarrassing.” 
“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 
“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”
You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”
“What do you mean?” 
“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 
“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 
You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 
Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 
At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”
“No!”
“You getting dicked down by him?” 
“No!” 
“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 
“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 
Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”
“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”
“That’s my girl!” 
In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.
“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 
“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 
“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 
“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 
He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 
You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 
“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 
“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 
“I’m sorry, what?” 
“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”
“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 
Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 
“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”
Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 
“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 
“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean then?” 
“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 
“Why?” 
“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 
“We are having a conversation.” 
“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 
“Ah.” 
“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”
“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 
“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 
Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 
“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”
“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 
“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”
Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”
You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 
You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 
“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 
“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”
Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”
You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’
“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”
Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 
“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 
“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 
“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 
“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 
Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 
“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 
“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”
He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”
“You know, it might help with the stress.”
“What?”
“Letting someone climb on top of you.”
Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”
“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”
“No.”
“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 
Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 
“Sorry,” you said softly. 
He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 
“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 
“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 
“Right,” you hedged. 
Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 
“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  
“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.
“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 
You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 
Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 
“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”
Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 
“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 
You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 
Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 
And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 
When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 
He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 
“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”
“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 
“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 
“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 
You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 
“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 
“I’m good for now.”
THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”
Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 
“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 
He shrugged, “I should, but–”
“But what?” 
“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 
You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”
“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 
“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 
His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 
The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 
“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 
Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 
He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.
Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 
“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 
You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 
His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 
Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 
“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 
“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 
You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 
Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 
He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”
You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 
“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 
Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 
The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 
“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”
At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 
“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”
Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 
“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”
This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 
“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  
He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 
Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.
He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.
You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 
You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 
He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 
This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 
“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 
“Finally,” you bantered back. 
A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 
“Do you have protection?” 
You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 
“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 
“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 
He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 
You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 
“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 
Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 
“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 
You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”
“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”
Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 
“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 
“You sure?” 
You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 
Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 
His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 
Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 
His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 
The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?
“Want me to back off?” 
Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 
You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.
“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 
You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 
Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”
He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”
“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 
A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”
You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 
You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 
“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”
He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 
“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  
“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”
You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 
“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”
The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 
A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 
You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.
“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”
Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 
Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.
Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 
Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”
You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 
You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 
The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 
“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”
Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”
You frowned at him.  
“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.
“Do your thing.”
“Can…can I get you anything?” 
Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 
You nodded. “Say no more.” 
You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 
The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 
You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 
“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 
“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 
His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”
“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 
“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 
“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 
“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 
“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 
Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 
Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 
“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 
“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 
You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”
“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 
You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 
You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 
Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 
“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 
***
You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 
The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 
Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 
Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 
Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 
“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 
Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 
“Good. You’re here.”
“Yep.” 
Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”
Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 
***
Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 
You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 
Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 
You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 
“Hey.” 
“Is this a booty call?”
“No.” 
“Don’t bullshit me–”
“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“Why not?”
“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 
“May–”
Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”
Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 
Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 
“You missed me?”
“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”
“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 
He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”
“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”
Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”
“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 
“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”
“Hey! We broke the bed–”
“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”
Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 
You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 
“Sounds good.” 
“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”
“No.” 
You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 
“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 
A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)
Translations:
Mierda - Shit 
cariño - dear
bebita - baby
Gracias a Dios - Thank God
Ven aquí - Come here
¡Coño! - Damnit!
¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!
Hermosa - beautiful
Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby
Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099
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unwantedtomost · 10 months
Text
so dirty — miguel o’hara
dbf!miguel o’hara x fem!reader
word count: 888
summary: miguel, who just so happens to be your dad’s best friend, fucks you in a bthroom
warnings: dirty talk, degradation, unprotected sex (i’m back to my old ways)
a/n: hehe two in like a day? look at me go. send me requests because i need more ideas.
“We shouldn’t do this,” came out of your voice in a tired tone. You tried to fight it but it got harder every time. How could you fight something that felt so right?
“I know, amor.”
Then he kissed you and you stopped fighting. 
Things got dirtier every time he touched you. The first time he kissed you he was so soft, so delicate. He touched you like he thought you could fall apart in his hands. Now he was bending you over the bathroom sink with the whole neighborhood in the backyard—not to mention your father, his best friend. He still loved you all the same, you never doubted it for a moment. Something about the switch felt right. This was a dirty little secret, not a Romeo and Juliet love affair. It was meant to be dirty.
He used to kiss every inch of your naked body, muttering how much he loved you every time his lips left your skin. It was a harsh comparison to how he shoved your panties to the side and rubbed his rough fingers up and down your slit.
“You’re soaking,” he stated with pride. “This all for me, honey?”
“‘Course it is, Miguel.” Sometimes you try to be soft in times like this. He’d give you a small smile then it would leave. His eyes were hungry, you almost felt like prey.
“‘Course it is,” he repeated before bending you forward.
He spit on his hand, pumping himself a few times. He rubbed the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to shutter. So dirty.
“Beg for it.” Your brows knitted together, giving him a confused look in the mirror. “You heard me. Beg for it.”
“Give it to me,” you demanded, standing your ground.
His large chest was flush against your back, his chin grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes. His lips brushed against your ear and his other hand gripped your hip like a vice. “I said beg. Or we’re going back downstairs right now.”
It wasn’t the worst threat in the world but at some point these little hookups became something you needed. He knew that. He felt the same way too.
“Please, Miguel,” you whined. “I love you so much. Need to feel ya inside me so badly. I promise to be such a good girl. I promise. I’ll be such a good girl.”
The tiniest smile came to his lips as he saw the tears lightly brewing in your eyes. God, how he loved you. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. “Such a good girl, only for me, yeah?”
“Only for you.”
Suddenly, the head of his member entered your entrance. You gasped, causing his hand to clasp over your mouth. “Got to be quiet, amor, yeah? We can’t have anyone find out what a dirty little whore you are for me.” He quickly pushed the rest of his length inside of you. You screamed into the palm of his hand, gripping down on the countertop.
“Fuck, princess. Best damn pussy I’ve ever had. Such a good fucking girl.”
His thrusts were brutal and you loved every second of it. Something about the strange circumstances made something dormant in Miguel come out. He said the dirtiest things. His mouth sputtering whatever came to mind as he pounded into you like both of your lives depended on it.
“Letting me fuck you while half the neighborhood is in the backyard. You wanted me that bad. You’d let me fuck you anywhere, wouldn’t you, honey? Want to be my little fuckdoll. Let me take you wherever I want. As long as we don’t get caught, right?”
You nodded vigorously as your eyes screwed shut, your head resting on Miguel’s shoulder. He let you stay like that for a while until his fingers started to rub your clit.
“Look at me,” he cooed. You had no choice but to pry your eyes open and look at the disheveled state of the man you were falling in love with. “Keep looking at me when I make you cum on my dick. Look so fucking beautiful.”
You had to use your last amount of strength to keep your eyes open, losing all control of the noises coming out of your mouth. Both of you were glad that his hand was clamped over your mouth. You tried to hold back your orgasm just a little bit, something you did often in these scenarios, you wanted to hold on just a little bit longer.
But it was always impossible. As soon as he figured out what you were doing, his fingers worked quicker.
“Please, cum for me baby,” he begged. And how could you refuse him? Quickly the coil snapped and you turned to absolute putty in his hands. “I love you, honey. I love you so much.” He whispered in your ear as he came inside of you. “Love you so fucking much.”
Slumped there, panting, you had that terrible wave of realization of the predicament you were in. Doomed to be in love with a man you could never really be with. Banished to a life of dirty secret hookups in bathrooms. But you didn’t need to worry about that now. Not when he was smiling at you.
“I love you too.” 
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lockleysfav · 9 months
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My Little Flower
Miguel O’Hara x AFAB virgin!Reader
summary: You had just met the spider society and Miguel a few days ago, You and Miguel had been quite chatty with eachother for a while before be was called out to a mission. A few hours later when you’re asleep in the lab, a high Miguel stumbles in.
warnings: NSFW, sex pollen, drugged Miguel, loss of virginity, rough sex, non con, somnophilia, creampie, reader soon loves it.
A/N: From the last post, the poll, i will be doing the top 3 voted smut ideas. If you want to be in a taglist just comment on this post ❤️. Enjoy!!
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To say you were tired was an understatement, you had been working on your new costume a few minutes after Miguel was called out to a mission. It was lonely sometimes without him despite the hundreds of spider people around. You knew that you and Miguel were a little closer than others, and his company had always lightened your mood.
You begged him to let you come with him on this mission but he immediately shut you down, rushing off after telling you it’s too dangerous, plus, your suit isnt finished. It was whatever, you scoffed and sat back down to carry on with the designs. “Asshole” you muttered to yourself, mimicking his facial expressions only to make yourself laugh but once you calmed down and looked to the clock and saw it was 10:34pm, you decided to work a little on your laptop in miguels chair (he had the comfiest chair of course).
The door and slammed wide open and yet you didnt flinch for a second, Miguel stumbled in onto his knees, panting and clawing at his neck “fuck what is this” he heaved as he continued to squirm. His fangs had retracted and he felt his body growing warmer and warmer at a certain smell, he didnt realise that smell was you until he forced himself up onto his feet and saw you asleep in his chair, your body hunched over on the desk with your laptop still open, the white light lighting up your face. Miguel almost purred at the sight of you drooling on his desk.
“te necesito” he muttered breathlessly before scrunching up his face in frustration. He couldnt do that to you? right? You were new, still young. You’d hate him but god he couldnt stop his legs from moving towards you. He growled and so desperately tried to hold himself back, his cock straining against his suit.
You were whining ever so slightly in your sleep, Miguel wasnt aware if you were having a nightmare but its what he assumed and it only drove him even crazier “poor bebita” he whispered as he ran his long fingers through your hair before letting the bottom half of his suit fade away, his cock resting against your cheek. His tip was almost gushing with precum, he gripped the back of your hair and growled before pushing the tip into your drooling mouth “oh fuck, thats it good girl” he whimpered as his body grew hotter, his hips suddenly bucking harder into your mouth. Your head twitched and pulled back a little but Miguel gripped your hair tighter holding you in place “im sorry bebita im so sorr- f-fuck” his dick hit the back of your throat and he doubled over emptying his cum on your tongue.
He pulled out panting, he stared down at you expecting you to jolt awake but you were still fast asleep. You were more of a deep sleeper than he thought. Initially he thought he was okay, but the sight of his warm cum dribbling out of your mouth only hardened his cock again. He didnt waste another second, he lifted you up from the desk, the cum from his mouth smearing onto his shoulder causing him to groan. He carried you to his bed and layed you on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulled down your leggings along with your socks and shirt, you stirred for a moment and Miguel stopped, looking at your face until it relaxed again “so good for me, you love it dont you? you want me just as much as i want you” his eyes had turned a deep red, he felt feral.
He straddled your thighs and ran his fingers down your spine before gripping your ass cheeks tight, putting his weight down and spreading you wide open, your puffy pussy exposed to him. He heaved again, saliva spitting from his mouth before spitting directly onto your pussy. This time, you jolted.
“M-Miguel?” you lifted your head realising it was planted down on soft sheets. You feel a pair of large hands on your ass and you quickly realised the situation, the head of his cock pressed against your hole and you immediately thrashed against him to get away “no no! stay!” Miguel had tears in his eyes he was so desperate. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. “Miguel stop! Im a virgin please please dont do this” you were almost sobbing and Miguel let go of your hands.
“Virgin?” he asked as he looked down again, spreading your pussy lips before looking at the back of your head. “I wont…i wont hurt you okay? please bebita” he leaned down, his body weight completely pinning you down as he kissed behind your ear. “need you so bad, just don’t fight it and it wont hurt i promise” you were panting and whining, you were so scared but also full of adrenaline. You were crushing on Miguel the minute you laid eyes on him. But you were just scared.
Miguel nipped your earlobe making you yelp, he growled and sat back up on his knees, he let you have control over your arms as he started rubbing his thick tip along your slit. He used his thighs to pin your legs together, making sure you wouldnt be able to squirm so much. He pushed in a little and sighed in relief at your loud whining “it hurts! miguel w-wait” but he didnt, he forced himself deeper and deeper, he knew it wouldve been easier for you if his dick was any smaller. He felt guilty in his gut as he continued and struggled to force his cock all the way inside you “shh relax, take me all in baby come on” he pulled back before pushing in again and this time your pussy opened up for him, letting him slide right in making you cry out loudly “miguel!” you were frantic, trying to get away from the pain but Miguel only held you in place, hushing you and kissing your shoulder as he refused to stop his movements.
“Shh it’s alright, dont be scared it’s over j…just stay still and oh- everything will be fine!” he stuttered as sweat dripped from his face. His gut was burning with desire and he couldnt stop, he so desperately wanted to pull out and hold you, tell you hes sorry but he couldn’t.
Miguel had shown a little mercy by flipping you onto your back and spreading your legs before slipping his hands behind your knees and pinning your legs to your chest, folding you together. He saw the fear in your face when you looked down at the size of him “no dont look mi amor, look at me thats it…you’re okay this is gonna feel so good trust me” you shook your head but he only nodded his before sliding his dick back into your pussy. You gasped and pressed your palm’s against his chest a poor attempt to keep him from going any further, he moaned and only slid deeper, hitting your cervix. “too deep” you told him shakily and he ignored you, lifting your legs higher onto his shoulders and pounding into you “fuck you’re so tight, leaking everywhere you little slut you love it, stop being so fucking dramatic and take it” the moment he said this, he slammed against your g-spot and your eyes rolled back “o-oh my god” you bucked your hips up and he smiled against your neck “good girl there we go…” he pulled away to look at you, taking in your beautiful features while pounding you.
You were moaning at each thrust, it was music to Miguels ears and as soon as you started panicking, unknown to what was coming he almost exploded. “mmm fuck dont fight it, let it happen bebita come on let it all out” his encouragement had you crying, your pussy squeezing his cock as you came, making it difficult for him to keep thrusting but it didnt matter, he grabbed your throat tightly and kissed you, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth as he rammed his warm sticky cum into your womb.
Miguel laid his head on your chest, he felt a weight lift off him and he came back to his senses when he heard you crying. He immediately shot up and looked down at you with a frown “oh no…oh im so sorry i..i didnt..i dont know what to say” he cupped your cheeks desperate to hear you say something.
You shook your head in his hands “please dont leave” Miguel was stunned for a moment at your plea, your body was shaking and his heart broke “hey..hey look at me im not going anywhere” he looked into your reddening eyes “im not going anywhere…im so sorry this wasnt how i wanted this to go” he sighed and laid his head back onto your chest “i was hit with some powder i dont know what came over me when i saw you, please babygirl believe me when i say i didnt wanna hurt you i-i never want to hurt you” you were looking up at him, smiling weakly “it’s okay Miguel..i understand” you nuzzle into him and he clung to you tightly “i wont let anyone hurt you..you’re mine” he was gentle with words, it almost felt normal.
You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
A/N: Thank you for reading! 💕
likes and reposts are so appreciated <3
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purple-1995 · 4 months
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Imagine that boyfriend that is always the hornier one in the relationship. Imagine him always wanting to kiss, to touch, to fuck. You are changing after getting home from running some errands and he sees your tits? Please, let him feel them, kiss them, bury his face between them 🥺🙏 You are going to shower? Please, let him join you, he can help you wash your back... and maybe you can let him jerk off while you make your body all wet and soapy in front of him 😇 You are going to sleep in his bed? Please, please, please. He knows you are tired, baby, but you won't have to do anything, just lay down and look pretty, he will do all the work 🥰
Just imagine that 🥵
#Horny!Boyfriend
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fayesia · 6 months
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Dress Code — boss!miguel o’hara x secretary!reader 
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~Prompts~
“I want to hear you beg.”
“Arch your back for me.”
Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, dom!miguel, brat taming, sir kink, praise kink, creampie, dirty talk, size difference, lmk if i missed anything!! 
Rough hands bend you over the hard mahogany desk, yanking your skirt down and spreading your legs. 
“You fucking slut parading your ass for everyone to see, is this what you wanted?” 
Hard slaps rained down on your ass as you moaned completely overdriven with lust. 
“Please mig-sir fuck me” 
“oh no i don’t think you deserve that, thinking you get this cock while walking around with no panties—are you even wearing a bra?” Your boss’ hands pull you back up against his front, moving towards your sheer white shirt, groping at your breasts, and ripping the silky material in two with his own bare hands. 
The buttons go flying around the room clattering across the floor as his hands roam your breast, skilled fingers tugging at your hardening nipples, his mouth ghosting over the side of your neck whispering filthy things. 
“Exactly what i thought, you’re just a fucking whore coming into my office acting like you need something…all you need is my cock to fill your bratty mouth up”. You uncontrollably moan at his words and touch, feeling your own wetness drip down your inner thighs. 
Your certainly not the only one who notices, “oh would you look at that what a slut, absolutely dripping for me…did you want me to help with that?” 
“yes sir please touch me” 
“i want to hear you beg” 
“hmm please sir i need you touch me, fuck me, anything please sir I’ll be a good girl for you” he growls hearing such lewd words leave your mouth. “Mm yes thats what i like to hear baby”. Miguel removes one of his hands from your tits and slowly traces his way down to your inner thighs. He collects your leaking juices and rubs them around your pussy taking his time to trace circular motions over your clit. You’re unsure of what to grab onto, pulling at his brown locks once styled to perfection but now in disarray just like his perfectly tailored suit. 
You feel yourself almost getting to the edge until he stops, immediately noises leave your mouth at the loss of contact. “Fuck i cant take this anymore” you hear him breathe out behind you. Unzipping his pants, he strokes his thick and long erect cock and rubs it against your drenched pussy. “Oh my god you feel so good baby nice and warm…mm so wet for me”. His praise immediately causes you to react, as the thick head of his cock enters your vagina stretching you out in a way you’ll never get used to. 
He thrust in and out at a ferocious pace needing you as much as you did him. His balls smacking against your pussy as the thrusts enter deeper and deeper into you each time. Slowly he readjust you to be bent over his large desk again, brushing aside pens and stacks of papers as you hear them fall to the floor. He grabs your hair into one clenched fist while the other reaches down to rub your clit, "Arch your back for me." 
You’re moaning as loud as possible not caring if any of the other employees can hear you, pushing your ass back up against him and arching as best as you can with the hopes of pleasing his demands. “Mmm yes such a good girl, perfect pussy wrapping around my cock, fuck, fits just like a glove huh”. 
“Ah im gonna come..please let me come sir” you ask through short breaths, feelings of overwhelming pleasure fog up your brain. “Yes baby come for me, drench my cock”. With hard quick thrusts and two fingers working tirelessly against your clit you let out one more moan, more pornographic sounding than ever and cum all over Miguel’s cock, all over your bosses cock. He quickly follows after, lowering himself to lie against your back and with one final thrust he lets out a deep guttural groan as he fills you up with his cum, leaving your lower belly feeling warm and full. 
After a few seconds of the two of you laying there to recover from the absolute earth shattering orgasms given to one another, Miguel removes his now flaccid cock and quickly replaces it with two of his fingers to stop any of the mixed cum from dripping out. You mewl and stretch at the overstimulation from his thick fingers as he removes them and pulls your skirt back up, while leaving soft kisses against your neck and gently rubbing his thumbs against your hips. 
“You were such a bad girl today huh baby”, you nod knowing every decision you made was in the hopes of this happening…for you to get fucked in you boss’ office like many times before. “So for the rest of today you can walk around with my cum dripping out from your pussy”.
“if we get home and i see you’ve cleaned up..lets just say you don’t wanna know what punishment I’ll have in store for you tonight.” 
“Yes sir” you reply completely out of breath as you reach to grab one of your spare white button ups from his desk drawer, you stand back up and try to make yourself look as presentable as possible. Like you weren't just bent over your boss’ desks and fucked into having one of the best orgasms of your life. The thick gooey substance drips down your thigh and slowly reaches your ankle causing an immediate stutter in your breathe. 
‘Fuck’ you think as you exit Miguel’s office avoiding any eye contact with other workers, ‘I’m not gonna get any work done for the next 2 hours’.
~thanks to anyone who supported my first post, hopefully u guys like this one as well!!~
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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months
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Ctenizidae
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…
Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel
WC: ~1k
AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.
MDNI
“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.
Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.
Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.
This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:
“Miguel, I think I should—“
“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“
“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”
“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”
You see how frustrating this man is?
So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.
“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”
“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.
You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”
He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.
“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”
You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.
Later
“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.
“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”
“Seriously—“
“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”
“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.
“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”
You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.
“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“
The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.
First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.
With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.
It is you.
And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.
Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.
He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.
His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.
“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”
His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.
“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.
“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.
He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.
He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
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anchoeritic · 11 months
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♥︎ — WANTS & NEEDS
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miguel o'hara having you pushed up on his desk with his hand deep between the locks of your hair, tugging at the very roots so your back arches perfectly against his front. the tips of his fangs are tickling the skin of your neck, leaving soft love bites along your throat.
his cock being nestled pretty inside of you, stretching out your folds. “look at you,” his voice was raspy, almost whispering into your ear. “such a pretty, pretty girl.” if it wasn’t for him pulling at your hair, your face would’ve been pressed to the surface.
“came all dolled up f’me, just to get all messy ‘nd ruined.” it was true. tears streamed down your cheeks while his cock slid in and out of you in a slow pace, letting your pussy get used to his bigger size. “what did i do to deserve you, mm?”
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celebh0ttie · 6 months
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OSCAR ISAAC
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faetreides · 29 days
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summary: leto atreides x afab concubine!reader
cw: daddy kink, pregnancy, power imbalance, dark fic coded, implication that the other concubines “disappeared”, overstimulation, body worship, i would do anything to be in reader’s position here i’m being so real, not included but got reader pregnant in the full nelson position, the smut is in a flashback, mention of the reader having hip dips, mention of leto with others but he realizes you’re the one after lmao, probably dune world/lore inaccuracies, reader’s a member of the duke’s breeding program, mention of choking, intended age gap but you can read it as otherwise
wc: 1k+
block & move on if uncomfortable !!!
do not repost, translate, or give ai my work
kinktober masterlist
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“It’s to wake up, my love.”
Your eyes flutter open to see Duke Leto Atreides standing over your bed, one of his hands brushing back some of your hair away from your face. He smiles warmly when you tiredly meet his gaze, and holds out an open palm. You take it and let him help you sit up, though that’s as far as he’s willing to let you go. Leto hovers his hands over your baby bump, borderline paranoid about you doing anything that could jeopardize the health of the baby.
“I thought my appointment with the doctor wasn’t until next week, my lord…” You yawn, resting your hands on your belly as you fight off sleep. Being heavily pregnant was no easy task, and most days it feels like you have as much energy as a corpse.
“It is, I simply wanted to see you.” Leto answers, petting your hair and curling one arm around your lower back to support it. “When we’re alone, get rid of the ‘my lord’, what we have is more than the results of an obligation.”
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You sigh, leaning into his touch as you consider his words. Months ago, you were just another member of the Duke’s harem. One of many meant to produce heirs until your body shriveled up. Your family was noteworthy but not noble enough to stay afloat, you heard that the Duke was looking for breeders and you left without looking back. Though you will admit that Leto Atreides is not the worst man you could’ve taken inside you. He was gentle and the way he kissed you suggested that he felt more than just gratitude.
You pretended to not mind the sounds and stories you heard from the other concubines in the beginning. You knew perfectly well what you were signing up for, the feelings came from nowhere, you swear.
Leto’s mannerisms during sex were impossibly adoring and intimate, and he would tell you were special every time in the midst of the afterglow. You stopped hearing heart dropping noises and nauseating stories, and the day after you found out you were pregnant you heard nothing at all. The Duke took longer than usual to meet with you that night.
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“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Leto calls out, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you get ready for bed.
You finish tying the strings of your nightgown and turn around to face him. There are strange little flecks of red in the wrinkles on his face, but they could be a trick of the light so you brush the curiosity off.
“I am always waiting for you, my lord.” You repeat the same thing you say everyday, noting the way the corners of his smile flatten in displeasure.
He cups your face and walks the both of you backwards towards the bed, shooting his hands out to keep himself from crushing you when you inevitably fall on it.
Time passes by in a blur, every moment filled with cries of “Daddy” and overzealous movement from him that punches the breath of your lungs. He’s not incredibly rough, just passionate enough to have tears dot your lashes and his thumb buried in your mouth. Every kiss is a hot swirling mess of saliva and tongues colliding that gets you so wet, you really believe it could kill you.
“Mm, your tongue feels amazing, clumsily chasing after mine.” Leto grunts at some point, rutting and slamming his balls against your ass with no rhyme or reason. “The tightest cunt i’ve ever had, fuck-“
You hum around his thumb, suckling on it like he’s your god and his thick fingers in your mouth are your only reason to live. He grinds his teeth together when you make eye contact, and you struggle to keep it up as you hollow out your cheeks around his coarse digits.
“Wanna make you proud, Daddy, gonna be so good for you.” The words are muffled past the point of comprehension, but your eyes allow him to get the gist.
If you were not already pregnant, the flood of fresh cum in your pussy would’ve done the trick. You clench around your lord’s fat cock and let yourself break, squirting all over yourself.
When you come to, Leto’s busying himself with latching onto your tits like a leech and bullying your battered pussy.
“These are already so sensitive, aren’t they? And to think that I made them that way…” Leto trails off, licking a broad stripe over your nipple and pinching your clit.
You jolt and throw your head back, “Yes, Daddy, you did.”
He groans at the frequently used name, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers in deeper. You’ve had more orgasms than you ever thought possible in the last hour alone, but your lord was insatiable like this. His head is too high in the clouds with visions of his future family to calm down.
Your legs shake but he takes his hand away from your clit and smooths his palm over your thigh to steady you.
“It’s alright, you know i won’t be too rough honey, you can take it. You’ve already taken my seed beautifully, growing my son in your womb.”
You know there’s no chance of stopping until Leto’s sure that he’s kissed and lavished every inch of your delectable body in Daddy’s attention. He gives each of your buds a ‘Goodbye for now’ kiss and wipes down the dips in your hips with his tongue, soothing the love bites and caressing the necklace of bruises around your neck he left when he lost control.
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The bed sinks with Leto’s added weight, and your cheeks warm as you come back to the present. You look down at your joined hands to see a box clenched tightly in his free one. Like he’s scared of dropping it. You gaze up at him questioningly and he smiles once again before softly kissing the skin between your eyes.
Next thing you know, Duke Leto Atreides is kneeling before you and opening the box to reveal a large ring. It’s magnificently crafted and all the details align with your taste perfectly.
“Will you marry me?”
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cupid-whisprs · 8 months
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i think i creamed ngl
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moonknightyws · 3 months
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I need to bring this gif back oh my goddd
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winniethewife · 3 months
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Puzzle cube (Steven Grant x F!reader)
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A/n: Requested by @summonthesoups A while ago, Finally got it how I wanted it. Hope you enjoy!
Warning: Smut under the cut Cock warming, Orgasm denial, edging, PinV Praise kink, sub!Steven,
Words: 522
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“Come on Baby, you can do it.” She softly coos as she sat straddled on his lap, His cock buried deep inside her as she stayed absolutely still, Holding him hostage as he whines softly trying to focus on the puzzle.
“Lovie….Please this…Ngh…Its…bloody hell” Steven babbles as he tried desperately to solve the colorful cube, he turns the cube and grunts, his cock twitches inside her, he lets out another whine as he figures out that the next step was right in front of him. “Damn cube. Just…ah. That’s…oh gods” Steven couldn’t help but mumble out loud. She looks at him with a devilish smile on his her face, Just as He was starting to figure out the puzzle she started to rock back and forth, drawing a soft moan from Steven.
“Look at you baby. Such a mess. You wanna fuck me baby? You want this? Yeah?” She teases and taunts him as she moves on his cock. Rolling her hips into his. Steven can’t resist, he thrusts up in to her as he whimpers and moans. She stops moving and pulls away slightly hovering over him as she tuts disapprovingly. “Ah, finish the puzzle baby.”
“P-please, Love I-I can’t its…I need you please.” Steven whines and tried desperately to move back into her, frustrated as she pulls away.  
“C’mon Steven I know you can do it, Look you’ve almost got it already.” She comforts him, reaching over to touch his face, tracing his pouty lips with the tip of her finger. He looks at her with those dark eyes, letting out a frustrated moan.
“A’right. I can do it, just, can you sit on my cock again. want to feel you ‘round me love.” He pleads with her. She gives him a smile and sinks back down on him. He sighs, slightly more satisfied and focuses back on the cube in his hands, a few more twists and… “There! I got it! look!” Steven shows her the solved cube with glee. She gives him a smile.
“Good boy.” She starts to move and Steven sighs in relief, putting the cube aside and grabbing her hips as he starts to thrust in to her, moaning as he chases his release inside her. after nearly an hour of teasing and holding back it doesn’t take long at all for him to coat her insides with his spend, his mouth open in a silent cry as he sakes slightly. She leans over and leaves a trail of kisses on his jaw, all the while praises leave her lips in a whisper soft voice “That’s my good boy, So good for me, you waited so long, so good Baby. So fucking good.” He couldn’t help but feel excited as she praised him, his cock starts to harden again. He looks into her eyes and whimpers slightly, he starts to buck up into her again, eager to go again.
“Please, Lovie. I want you again. Want to cum again, Please.” He begged. She sat up and gave him a mischievous look. Grabbing the cube and mixing it up again before handing it to him. “Again”
~
Masterlist
Tags: @silver-night-m
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wriitingwoes79 · 11 months
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Careful, He Bites
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Miguel O’Hara x Hispanic!Reader
Summary: You’re FWB with the ever-elusive vigilante Spider-Man (2099) who unfortunately, for you, is not too fond of being ghosted.
Content Warnings: dom!Miguel, sub!reader, face sitting, biting, overstimulation, webfluid!bondage, dirty talk (and in español también !!🤭)
WC: 645 (ik ik it’s short my bad lol)
AN: heavily unedited and my Spanish is rusty (gotta love being a no sabo puerto rican ) so I apologize for that!! part 2 maybe? who knows lol
MDNI!!!
Your phone buzzed on the bedside table, your roommate’s photo and caller ID popping up. In your current state, you would just have to let the call go to voicemail—it’s not like you would be able to answer now or any time soon, anyways.
Especially since your thighs were bound by thick muscular arms (and ropes of webfluid) while Miguel’s tongue and lips flicked and sucked over your clit hungrily. The obscenely wet sounds emanating from your thighs held much more sway than the buzzing phone to your right.
Wave after wave of pleasure lapped over you as Miguel forced orgasm after orgasm from you. Your thighs shook around his head, and you squirmed as you felt the familiar rise of arousal leading towards another release.
“Ah!” You cried as you felt Miguel’s teeth lightly rake over your clit, quivering from the sensation. It was a warning from him: take it.
Sit there and take it.
Dios mío, you absolutely couldn’t take another orgasm—your clit was beyond sensitive, overly aware of every rough flick and wet swirl of his tongue as he licked up everything that dripped from between your thighs. His soft groans didn’t help the situation either, soft vibrations from his lips and throat running along your now-aching pussy.
Miguel’s hand tightened on your thighs, hard enough that you were sure the marks would be there by the time you made it back to your apartment.
This had to be a punishment, you thought. How orgasms could even be considered a punishment you didn’t know but you knew the roughness, the little care for how much you ached (despite the overflow of pleasure) had to be some sort of retaliation.
Sure, you hadn’t talked to Miguel in over a week, and sure, you had a blind date with a coworker of your roommate’s but that was nothing! Miguel was just a nice little friends with benefits.
Well…a vigilante friend with benefits.
A vigilante who swung you into his apartment, tearing your panties off with his fanged teeth and trapped you over his face without even taking his suit off—he’d merely lifted the mask up to free his lips and tongue for your torment. You hated how much it turned you on to see his lips and the tip of his nose peeking out from the blue and red suit material.
The orgasm rising in you once more was enough cause for you to squirm more, trying to ease off the side of his face. Miguel’s grip tightened and his lips left from your clit to trace your inner thigh. In seconds, his teeth—his fangs specifically, gripped the soft fleshy part of your inner thighs and pain sparked there. He bit, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to keep you as still as you could manage.
Hard enough to leave marks for you to find later.
“No te muevas,” he growled against you, his lips finding your clit once more, “you can take it, amor.” You whined at the sensation, his lips and gruff voice against your sensitive pussy, the way the ‘r’ in “amor” rolled so delicately off his tongue and onto your clit.
“Puedes hacer uno más,” he said and continued to devour you as if it were the only sustenance he needed to survive. Within seconds, the orgasm came bursting from you, your thighs dripping desire and release which Miguel lapped up with ease. Your entire body shook from the effort and you slumped over, legs tangled on Miguel’s shoulders from the ties still taut and biting into your skin.
Your phone buzzed again and Miguel eased himself you, pulling you free from the webfluid ties without a second thought. He picked up your phone, answering it and held it to your ear,
“Tell her you won’t be coming home just yet, cosita linda. I’m not finished with you.”
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purple-1995 · 4 months
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Imagine that boyfriend that is always the hornier one in the relationship. Imagine him entering his car with you after a night out with friends. The parking lot is dark and there is almost no one wandering about. Before you can fasten your seatbelt, he stops you and asks you to jerk him off 🥺🙏🏻 It's because you are so hot in your little black dress and you were dancing so pretty all night 🥵 His cock is so hard that is hurting and he doesn't think he can drive in that condition 🥺 Too distracted. So please, baby, it's for your own safety 😇🙏🏻
#HornyBoyfriend
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b3ans0up · 1 year
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Oscar and Pedro can Eiffel Tower me 😀
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lizispunkk · 5 months
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Oscar Isaac on Elvira’s instagram😋😋
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