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honestsycrets · 9 months

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mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it.

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free.

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.”

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--”

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.”

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face.

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets.

“She likes it.”

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.”

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar.

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.”

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.”

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,”

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face.

“As many as will make you happy.”

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.”

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?”

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for.

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father.

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.”

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable.

Low sperm count his ass.

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it.

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.”

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.”

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel.

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them.

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.”

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly.

“Sí, Miggy?”

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so.

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that.

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place.

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder.

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck.

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone.

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day.

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is.

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready.

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.”

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.”

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.”

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck.

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.”

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest.

“Who would come in?”

“Peter,” you answer.

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see.

“The balcony, then.”

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?”

“Maybe.”

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter.

“Bend over.”

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now.

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.”

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?”

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again.

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back.

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability.

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable.

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach.

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body.

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs.

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days. “Like… not this.”

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Don’t start.”

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging.

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--”

“Let me guess. She told you.”

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?”

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe.

“Are you sure? I know--”

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.”

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?”

He leers. Peter scuttles away.

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

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peaceeandcoolestvibes · 11 months

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#20 mins on the phone w my freeeen Raquel like we are literally one and the same 😂#whilst Dani was in front of me laughing his ass off like I cannot even sometimes #productive studying 📖#sis knows EXACTLY when to call me bc if I’m IN AN EXAM I won’t be able to pick the call #common sense ;)#y’all need to stop calling folks 9 times in a row #bless my friend #we be dealing w the same type of folks #bless US 🔥#(oyeeeeee que guapos salimos en las fotos del viernes LOS AMO🤍h #hahah es mejor grupo de amigos)#me encanta la variedad y como con otros grupos hablamos de viajes COMIDAAA y tal y con ellos es de todo #irse a vivir junto con tu pareja ser una pareja sexy trabajo quedarse embarazada COMIDAAAA y responsabilidades #esque ya es otra cosa #adoro a todos mis amigos por igual 💖🥲🥲🥲#todos con estados parecidos UIII QUE GUAPOSSS #Danielo que no haya venido me dOLIOOO #amigo del almaaaaaAAAA ♎️ es Profe y la Vida de Profe joven y con talento es dura #fue un cambio de planes por su parte y por el mío porque yo voy de culo x la vida actualmente #@ los amigos que dejáis la vida de porreta fumeta y drogadicto de mierda: estoy súper orgullosa de vosotros ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#lo guay tambn es ‘Shari no bebe así que a ella no le pongáis alcohol’ con amigos de los de siempre y a los nuevos no tener que repetirlo +5 #veces… es lo que guay 🤷🏾‍♀️ lo maximo fue pillarme un mojito POR Emma y olerlo y beber una gota #que por cierto ni lo toqué … a mi esa vida no me va #anyways my bffs and I are v solution focused so it’s hard to watch people enjoy being dramatic sooo emotional and that wallow in self pity #24/7 bc in the end it’s not going to help anyone here 🔥 humans are emotional but rational too so pls honor that

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yourstrullyme · 1 year

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just realized i use male pronouns when speaking about myself in spanish

#saying male pronouns instead of he/him bc its different in spanish #you can add gender onto a statement just by changing the ending letter of a verb like #i was sitting can be estaba sentada por women and estaba sentado for men #and when im explaining something or maybe doing a generalization since im mostly surrounded by men i usually go with male pronouns #because its the mayority of the people around and also male pronouns are used usually for generalizing #but it ends up sounding like i use he him pronouns #also its not called pronouns i know but its late and i cant remember how its called im sorry #personal #meegs rambles

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clandestineloki · 7 months

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strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy!

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way.

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?"

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?"

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~"

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #clndstnlki's strawberry sweet saga

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imissthefire · 7 months

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I started radiant dawn the other day and I'm regretting emulating it bc I literally have the game, I just don't wanna dig out my wii and set it up but bruh my laptop is not at all meant for gaming and it really shows 😭

#i'm fighting for my life here #anytime miccy or ily whip out a tome? graphics simply cease to cooperate #it fortunately hasn't crashed yet #but it sure as hell keeps threatening to #like when i played por? same programme and all that but it ran fine 85% of the time #rd is calling me slurs and running okay like 25% of the time #i'm suffering #anyway #gabe rambles #gabe plays #fe rd #nqp

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kombuuuu · 10 months

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Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)

also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT

warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times

I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)

—

Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..

-Profession.

It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.

Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.

He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.

So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.

And he didn’t try to understand why.

—

It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.

Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.

It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).

Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.

Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.

Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—

“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”

"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."

A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.

A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.

The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.

A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.

“Hey, mami.”

Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.

“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.

“I tripped.”

You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.

“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.

Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.

He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.

You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.

He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.

“No está tan mal, ma.”

"It's not so bad, ma."

His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.

His boxers,—

—,his hand twitched.

“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”

The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.

You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.

You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.

“No digas que es sólo un corte.”

"Don't say it's just a cut."

“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.

“You look good like this, mami.”

You choked slightly, glaring up at him.

“Take off your jacket, Morales.”

"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."

"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."

“One more word.”

“Understood.”

He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.

It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.

“What were you cut with, Papi?”

His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.

“A knife, probably.”

Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.

“Figures.”

You hid your smile.

He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.

“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”

"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."

He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.

“I am gentle.”

“Sure.”

You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.

The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.

“There, all done.”

“Not gonna kiss it better?”

You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.

Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.

“Lay down, baby.”

He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”

Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.

“Gon’ spoil you after this.”

You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.

“You already spoil me, Papi.”

Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.

“‘S’cause you deserve it.”

He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.

You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”

“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.

“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.

The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.

“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”

“Hopefully.”

“Miles.”

You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”

He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.

He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.

He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.

Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.

“Much.”

He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.

It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.

—

first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again

as angst is all i’m good for

i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good

IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #miles x reader #across the spider verse spoilers #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales

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lewisvinga · 5 months

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mr & mrs | max verstappen x fem! pérez! reader

summary; max and y/n relationship from engagement to honey moon

fc: threemillion on ig

warnings; mentions of sex lol

notes; latina n pérez reader bc max is for the latinas

masterlist !

liked by maxverstappen1, schecoperez, and 1,022,928 others!

ynperez: knew something was up when he kept begging me to wear white lol

tagged; maxverstappen1

username: what happened to hello? good morning??

maxverstappen1: liefje, you act like i was on my knees

ynperez: might as well have been, ‘babeeee just wear white, nooo pleaseeeee, wear that white dress. babeeeee’

maxverstappen1: not u exposing me under our engagement post 😕

ynperez: to a lifetime of this, max verstappen !

maxverstappen1: gladly, y/n pérez ! ( future verstappen )

maxverstappen1: i love you

ynperez: and i love you

username: MIS PADRESS [ my parents ]

username: screaming crying throwing up

username: that outfit is EVERYTHING

username: the size of the ring? hello??

schecoperez: enhorabuena, hermanita! [congratulations little sister] ❤️ just gotta make sure he doesn’t make you cry or else

ynperez: muchísimas gracias checo💗 [thank you very much] , but i may have cried a wee bit when he proposed 😕

maxverstappen1: a wee bit is an understatement, i was concerned that you were never going to stop crying

ynperez: exposing me under MY own post??

maxverstappen1: karma is my fiancé

liked by ynperez, danielricciardo, 1,234,927 others!

maxverstappen1: partying in mexico is 10x more fun when you’re celebrating your engagement to your fiancé

tagged; ynperez

username: they’re turning him into a mexicano lol

username: mi gente latino✊

ynperez: omggg 2 pics of meeeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

maxverstappen1: bc ur soooooo prettyyyyy

ynperez: can’t believe your drunk ass left the party to put on that fuck ass polo

maxverstappen1: it’s for the vibes u wouldn’t get it 🙄🙄🙄

ynperez: engagement parties in mexico>> maxie wasn’t i so smart for planning it 😁😁😁😁

maxverstappen1: ur the smartest person ever liefje

username: can’t tell if i want him or her

danielricciardo: never seen max so smiley in my life before

maxverstappen1: i was feeling like you tbh

username: need y/n’s closet asap

schecoperez: told you partying in mexico is fun😂

liked by maxverstappen1 !

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 1,104,826 others!

ynperez: called bae to let him know it’s a girls night only

tagged; lilymhe, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, carolamtz1, iamrebeccad, heidiberger_

lilymhe: tell ur ‘bae’ i want you🤤🤤🤤🤤

ynperez: i want YOU🤤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

alex_albon: maxverstappen1 are you seeing this??

maxverstappen1: i just ignore it tbh

maxverstappen1: almost died being away from you

ynperez: u had the babies with you🐈🐈

maxverstappen1: still not the same 💔

username: i’d do anything to party with y/n and the other wags😩

username: she’s an icon and she is the moment

alexandrasaintmleux: pretty pretty girl!!

ynperez: says you!🥹💗

carolamtz1: gracias por invitarme! fue tan divertido!😍😍 [thank you for inviting me, it was so fun]

ynperez: siempre carol❤️💗 [always]

carmenmmundt: george kept asking me what we were doing last night 🤣

ynperez: don’t say a word, girls only 🤫🤫

georgerussell63: BOOOO

maxverstappen1: so i won’t know??

ynperez: girls only sorry bae

username: this comment section is my entertainment of the day😭

username: countdown to verstappen wedding starts now 🧘‍♀️

liked by schecoperez, christianhorner, and 1,653,836 others!

ynperez & maxverstappen1: mr. and mrs. verstappen.

schecoperez: enhorabuena! bienvenido a la familia, max ! [congratulations, welcome to the family] time to learn spanish😂

maxverstappen1: i know how to order tacos in spanish 😌

ynperez: lol barley

maxverstappen1: under our marriage post?

username: my dream wedding

username: mamá y papá

lilymhe: the prettiest bride😍😍😍

ynperez: the prettiest maid of honor 💗

carmenmmundt: ugh the dress , the hair, everything was so😍😍

liked by ynperez !

username: streets are saying there was a banda n everyone was zapateando??👀👀

ynperez: the streets are right! even max, although, white husband cannot dance, i’m working on it

maxverstappen1: i am trying 😔

danielricciardo: really? are you sure??

landonorris: congrats to the happy couple🎉🎊

ynperez: no tears this time?🤔

landonorris: i don’t have a clue what ur talking about 🤨🤨

danielricciardo: the 5 minute long video i have of you sobbing says otherwise 🤗

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 1,142,736 others!

ynperez: luna de miel con mi esposo. 🌕🍯💗👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 [honey moon with my husband]

maxverstappen1: te quiero. [i love you]

ynperez: JALDKSDWOF

ynperez: te quiero. ❤️‍🩹

maxverstappen1: chilling w wifey

ynperez: happy wife happy life am i right

maxverstappen1: i do make you very happy indeed 😏😏😼😼😼

ynperez: max stop my brother can see

schecoperez: i wish i didn’t see

schecoperez: y porque publicaste fotos en su ropa interior?🤔 [and why did you post photos in your undergarments]

ynperez: ay, checo, no soy una niña, ya tengo esposo 😝[im not a little girl, i already have a husband]

username: checo being an overprotective brother lol

username: y/n panicking over max typing in spanish is so me

username: them>>

lilymhe: so , when are yall gonna give me a niece, i’m waiting…

maxverstappen1: you have jimmy and sassy😝

maxverstappen1: let me change my response, we’re practicing to make sure we get it right on the first try😆

lilymhe: oh😀

landonorris: i need to bleach my eyes🤢

ynperez: MAX MY DAD AND CHECO CAN SEE THIS😭😭

maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry 😁

#f1 scenario #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one social media au #f1 smau #f1 scenarios #formula one smau #formula one x reader #formula one scenarios #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smau

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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months

Note

Howdy! It's me again

How are you? I hope you are fine, and if not, then I encourage you from here!

Well, I would like to order something in which our dear Willy gets a little jealous because someone entered the factory and started flirting with his partner (reader) And that leads to a very affectionate moment between reader and Willy

Por cierto, qué le pones a los pedidos que escribes? Los siento muy emocionantes y me ponen a chillar a veces SJSGGWUW

(By the way, what do you put in the orders you write? I find them very exciting and they make me scream sometimes)

.—🌻

Tensions in the Factory [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

nota: ¡me hace muy feliz que te guste lo que escribo! creo que sólo se trata de hacerlo con amor (¿o algo así? jaja) Lamento haber tardado, entré a un trabajo durante vacaciones y apenas me queda tiempo, pero espero que sea de tu agrado, girasol:)

[ENG: It makes me very happy that you like what I write! I think it's just about doing it with love (or something like that? haha) I'm sorry it took me so long, I started a job during vacation and I barely have time left, but I hope you like it, sunflower:)]

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

“Your factory is impressive, Mr. Wonka,” said the man next to the boy, with a satisfied smile on his face after the tour he had given him.

Willy was pleased with the investor's recognition that he intended to finance a new branch for Wonka chocolates and if everything continued as expected, he knew that that same afternoon they would be signing a contract.

“I'm glad you like it. This is where all the magic happens, so I hope that with that new store things are even more promising for us.”

He wanted to add something else when, suddenly, he was interrupted by the vision of a person; it was you, beckoning to him from the other side of the factory with a board holding papers. He knew it had to be something important or else you would have waited, so he apologized to the young man at his side and walked quickly until he reached you.

“Oh, I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the machines that churns the chocolate is jammed and making a mess in there, do you think you can check it?” you murmured, sounding slightly worried about the situation.

“Yes, I'll go right away. While you will talk to Mr. Salt? Tell him to excuse me for a moment”

"Yes, I will do it"

“You're an angel, thank you for letting me know,” he said goodbye, gently caressing the side of your face and practically running to solve the problem you had just told him about.

The man looking at you curiously from the other side couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Willy and he was handsome, dressed in a gray formal suit that was worthy of a businessman. You had heard that he had a lot of money and although at first the chocolatier was not very convinced, after thinking about it better he believed that it was a good time to expand his horizons; that included having more stores to sell more chocolates. He had told you about the idea and you had been excited about it, so you motivated him to contact interested businessmen.

Although you didn't really enjoy talking to strangers, you took a deep breath and walked over to where the man was to greet him.

“Mr. Salt?” you said timidly, to get his attention. He watched you for a moment and when he got a better look at you, then he smiled hugely.

“Just call me Henry, Henry Salt. It's my pleasure," he replied, reaching out to shake your hand a little longer than expected. "Are you Mr. Wonka's secretary?"

It wasn't the first time a guy thought that about you, after all you were always behind your boyfriend with that board in your hand, writing things down, checking the operation, and reminding him of everything, however, Willy had always said that you were his partner and he wouldn't expect anyone to disparage your position: this factory belongs to both of us, he always said.

But it was easier to say yes than to explain all that.

“Something like that. He asked me to tell you that he had to attend to an emergency, but that he will be right back.”

"Oh, sure. There is no problem with it as long as you keep me company” he said happily.

The man was looking at you up and down, as if you were the most interesting thing he had seen in the factory so far, but you didn't notice it, because you were too focused on the thought of how Willy was handling the machinery.

“Did you like the factory?” you exclaimed, trying to get a topic of conversation that would kill the silence that had enveloped you.

You could tell that he was an educated man, because he immediately started talking to you about the structure of the building, finances, what a good investment it would be to open a branch and also about how much he loved chocolate.

“I have a daughter named Veruca. She is just a baby, but I hope to be able to give her everything she wants in the future. I only plan to work to fulfill her whims”

“Ow, that's sweet,” you tried to flatter. At least his motives were noble.

“She looks a little like you, actually. You are very beautiful"

You had to admit that the comment threw you off, but you still laughed nervously. Maybe he was just trying to be nice to you, so you could persuade Willy to close the deal with that man.

“Huh, I appreciate it, Mr. Salt.”

“What are your favorite chocolates? I imagine that being here you eat them in droves, right?” he murmured.

You hoped that with that the conversation would take a different direction, so you started talking to him about all the types of chocolates that Willy prepared for you: the sweet ones, some salty ones, the magical ones, the strange ones...

“But I think my favorites are definitely the mint chocolates. They may be simple, but Mr. Wonka prepares them in an exceptional way," you said dreamily, remembering that upon discovering it he had prepared an entire jar just for you.

“When the branch is open, you can stop by to eat all the mint chocolates you want. At a special price for special ladies”

You laughed at that, not so much out of desire but out of commitment to the potential client. Suddenly a hand was placed on your waist and when you turned in the direction of the body that had approached you, you noticed that it was who it could only be. You frowned slightly when you noticed that he was frowning, as if something had bothered him.

“I'm sorry I was late. Everything is in order now, would you like to accompany me inside, Mr. Salt?” he said. His voice sounded calm and stern, without that cheerful tone he always had, and he still had one hand planted firmly on your body.

“Of course,” the chocolatier made a sign for the opponent to start walking and he did not take his eyes off him at any time, noticing that Mr. Salt was looking at you with the same interest.

If he was unhappy with something, he didn't say it, and he just left a gentle kiss on your head.

“See you in a bit, okay?” You nodded and pushed him just a little, inviting him to follow the businessman you had just spoken to. He got lost down the hallway and you returned to your tasks, not imagining the feeling that was bubbling in your partner's chest.

“That man is a complete idiot.”

You were surprised to hear the boy use those words and, above all, by the furious tone with which he had expressed himself. You interrupted your tasks of making dinner to pay attention to him.

“Who are you talking about?

“From Mr. Salt, of course! I didn't sign the contract with him. Don't even think about it, he's a… a complete nutcase”

"What are you talking about? What happened?" you asked, completely surprised by what he was telling you. You put everything aside to approach him and held his face to analyze his expression: it was extremely strange to see him this upset “Honey?”

“He was flirting with you! Don't think I didn't notice, when I left, he... he started talking to you that way. And not satisfied with that, he called you my assistant and then he hinted that he wanted a romance with you. He said punctually: I hope that, if I open this new branch, you will send your pretty assistant to help me with everything necessary” he was red with anger as he said that and he had to breathe for a moment to compose himself. "So I told him immediately that there was no deal if he dared to talk about my wife like that.”

There was too much to process at once. You felt disgusted at the idea that another man had shown interest in you, but at the same time you were surprised by how he had reacted. Willy wasn't a possessive husband, but right now you were feeling something strange about this side of him.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Of course I have to. You're beautiful and I'm sure everyone realizes that, but I won't let anyone look at you like he was looking at you. It is my job to protect you and that includes not entering into relationships with those who want to take advantage of you.”

He sounded sincere and passionate when he spoke, convincing you that he was very serious about the matter. Contrary to what he expected, you smiled and cupped his cheeks again to kiss him on the lips. He melted at the touch, you knew it by the way his shoulders completely relaxed and his hands came up to hold your elbows during the seconds you were kissing him.

Once he was more relaxed, you spoke.

“It's all right, love. Can you calm down?” you asked him. Your hand began to gently caress his cheeks and your eyes looked pleading, something he couldn't resist. “You shouldn't have wasted such an opportunity, but... I appreciate that you rejected it. For me"

“I would do anything for you,” he said immediately. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss you again and he did, deeply and lovingly. You didn't resist.

“You're my only boy, you know that? No one in the world could take me from your arms”

“That's not my fear, I know that nothing can separate us” he assured you, smiling from ear to ear. That's how sure he was about yours, that agreed with the pair of rings on your fingers “Besides, there will be more opportunities, you don't have to feel guilty about anything.”

“I don’t,” you exclaimed, to reassure him. You knew he had done the right thing and you loved him for it “Are you hungry? I'm making you something for dinner” you confessed and then he nodded.

He could smell what you were cooking and when you reached out to stir the contents of the saucepan with a stick, he hugged you from behind, starting to talk about something more trivial than that failed business and feeling clearly relaxed, now that he knew he was and he would always be the only owner of your heart.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

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