#miguel ohara x black reader

[migueloharaslave]

Miguel x Black!reader

NSFW WARNING 🗣‼️

You stood in the kitchen, cooking a meal for you and your boyfriend. You and Miguel have been together for three years already, you honestly had the best relationship.. you couldn't ask for more a man to spoil you and treat you like the queen you are. But, right now you were mad at him.

Usually you two called whenever you got off of work, but he didn't anwser.. he hadn't been answering any of your calls, you huffed as you felt your face heat up. You were so angry with that damn man. Then, you heard the front door close, the sound of Miguel grunting as he sat down his work bag.

"Baby!" Miguel called out, he looked around a little bit before spotting you in the kitchen. "I'm sorry mamas, I was busy with work baby." He walked up to you."Save it. Ion feel like hearing it." You rolled your eyes, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

"I've been calling you all day, not a single text. I don't care how busy you were, still learn how to fucking answer me." You crossed your arms at him.

"C'mon baby, I'm sorry.. Let me make it up to you." Miguel whispered as he pulled a braid behind your ear, gently bringing his hands up to the side of your face, holding it in his hands. He dragged his thumb against your dark skin, obviously since you were a blackie he couldn't notice that you were blushing, he could only feel the heat radiating off of your skin. "C'mon baby, don't be like that with me." He whispered as he kissed you.

"Stopp.." You giggled, you couldn't even keep up the rude act as much as you wanted to because of how he was acting. "Oh my god whatever, I forgive you. Okay?" You hummed. "Can you help me clean up the dishes after dinner?"

"Of course baby, I'll do anything for you.. Shii, I'll even kill for you." Miguel snickered as he kissed you gently, pulling away as he looked at what you made for dinner.

He grabbed a fork before picking up some pieces of ravioli you made and ate it. "Miguel!" You playfully hit him with a kitchen towel, "Go wash your hands. You just got off of work, plus you smell sweaty please go shower or something you're gonna have the whole house stankin'."

"Okay, I don't smell THAT bad, exaggerating shit baby. I'll go shower real quick though, hopefully you made up that bed because tonight we bout to mess it up tonight." Miguel smirked as he smacked your ass.

"Yknow what, you aint getting a lick of this." You giggled, placing a hand on your hip. "All of this belongs to my future husband."

"Am I gonna be that future husband? I better be." Miguel walked up to you, grabbing your waist, fiddling with the waist beads you were wearing.

"Yeah.. You're gonna be him. I'll be Y/N O'Hara one day.." You giggled as you pecked a kiss on his lips, biting your lip as you held onto the collar of his shirt. "Please go shower though, I'm not having sex with you when you aint smelling good."

"God, I need some of that chocolate.. Today has just been crazy." Miguel muttered, as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, unbuttoned his shirt as he started to walk off. "I was doing my job.. then I had made this substance, it fell, and god that was so hard to clean up. Because it was like an acid, then we were running tests.. some guy's hair somehow got into this boiling liquid and it just exploded."

You side eyed miguel as he was telling you about his day you couldn't help but whisper 'what the hell'. Miguel pulled off his shirt and sighed, stretching his muscles. "After my shower can I have a massage?"

"Mm.. Of course baby, go get washed up. I'll take good care of you." You blew a kiss at him with a big grin on your face before walking to the bed room, getting some body oil for the massage. You laid down across the bed as you waited for him to be down, kicking your feet in the air as you watched the news.

.. After a good 20 minutes, Miguel walked into the room, looking down at you on the bed. "Sorry, I was shaving my face." Miguel muttered as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"It's fine, you sat up on your knees, smiling up at him. "Oh my godd.. I need to tell you something that happend at the bakery. Okay so I was at work right, doing my job like usually.. this customer decided she wanted to have a fucking problem." You rolled your eyes in annoyance as Miguel sat down in front of you, just listening to your rant.

"I don't know it just really pissed me off. I made her a cake just as she requested with dinosaurs and sharks for her little boy's birthday party along with some cupcakes. She fucking told me, 'Sharks weren't around when dinosaurs were.' Bitch I do my research, I told her she can look it up they did exist around the same time. It shouldn't be that deep it was a cake for your sons birthday party." You started to put some oil on his back, gently massaging it into his skin as you applied pressure to some spots, releasing tension in his muscles.

"Baby, you wanna know something else she did?" You peeked over his shoulder at him.

"Mhm.." Miguel mumbled. His eyes closed as you massaged his muscles, he enjoy the feeling of your hands on him and the tension leaving his body. He could care less about what you were talking about, but you always listened to him so he just did the same.

"This girl literally expected me to give her a refund. Like, no baby. I made it, your son is happy. You told me how you wanted the cake and I made it. Then, she threatened to call the cops on me for scamming her? Like what? She should had been calling the cops for help to get me off of her cuz I was really about to beat her ass. Like, your son is happy, you should be worried about that. Hopefully her son has a good birthday party." You continued to massage Miguel's skin.

"Yeah.." Miguel grunted a bit.

"Y'know.. I want kids one day. I bet we would make some pretty babies." You hummed, tilting your head down at him.

Miguel eyes suddenly shot open, "Now? You want a kid now?" He turned around to look at you, "Are you sure..? I don't think we're ready for that."

"Baby, not right now. I'm just saying. When we get married, I wanna have a kid, maybe two.. three.. five.. ten." You giggled as you joked.

"One or two, or maybe three kids would be fine.. I don't think I could handle more than that, especially with my job." He muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

"You'll be a great dad, but I guess I wouldn't be the only one calling you daddy anymore if we do have kids." You dragged your hands down his chest, gliding your hands up against his muscle.

"I- Oh.." Miguel cleared his throat as his face heat up at your random comment, making your brows furrow.

"Your scalp look dry." You muttered as you started to pick through his hair.

"So?" Miguel muttered.

"Hold on." You scooted off of the bed standing up and walking over to the table in the room, picking up some hair oil and walking back over to him, sitting down on his lap. You bit down on your lip as you squirmed around a bit on his lap.

"Ight, stop." Miguel mumbled, placing his hands on your hips, as he looked up at you. He always enjoyed it when you were on top of him, probably one of his favorite positions. When you leaned over him to apply oil to his scalp, of course you purposely pressed your breast up against him.

After you put some oil onto his scalp you gently massaged it in, gently moving your hips up and down on his lap, that was starting to drive Miguel crazy. He couldn't help but grip onto your ass as he felt himself grow hard.

"Done!" You smiled as you got up, looking at him up and down as you sat the oil down on the table, looking at yourself in the mirror, looking back at him.

Miguel was staring at you his legs were spread out a bit as he locked eyes with you, the way he stared at you whenever he got horny was honestly crazy. You knew that look from Houston to Tokyo. "Mm.. What's wrong with you? Need something?"

"I do need something.. I want some of that chocolate." He smirked at you, he watched as you walked up to him, getting down on your knees in front of him.

You giggled as you gently pulled down his boxers, looking up at him. You bit down on your lip as you saw the way it sprung right out of his boxers. Sometimes you forgot how big Miguel was, and this was one of them days where you forgot, you two haven't banged in almost two weeks due to him having low energy and being stressed from work.

You wrapped your hand around his length, gently stroking it as you looked up at him. He had a pretty decent size probably 12 inches at most, but you never really measured it. It was two toned, so there should be no surprise the tip held a soft pink hue along with some bulging veins on the side.

"Just like that.." Miguel whispered, narrowing his eyes at you, he mostly wanted you to suck him off right now, he hated when you teased him.You then started to swirl your tongue up against his tip before pushing your head down, taking his length inside of your mouth. Miguel waited for you to start sucking a bit before he gathered your braids into a ponytail and started thrusting himself inside of your mouth, pushing his cock to the back of your throat receiving a gag in response.

Miguel didn't stop, you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You gripped onto his thighs and after a couple minutes like this you heard him starting to groan which meant he was already close. You just let Miguel abuse your throat, he needed to take all his stress out on you. He did some quick few thrusts in your mouth before panting and pulling out.

"Stick out your tongue." He demanded, and you did so as you felt him grip tighter onto your hair and using his free hand to stroke himself until he came on your face. He leaned his head back as he let out a grunt, "Fuck.." He whispered. Letting go of your hair and panting.

"Ugh.." You muttered, standing up and looking in the mirror. He aimed for any spot but your mouth, you took some tissue and tried to wipe it off. "Maybe next time go for the damn mouth. I didn't want my makeup to get messed up." You pouted.

"I'm sorry, ma.." Miguel sat up, looking at you. "Cmon, bring your pretty ass over here. We ain't done." Miguel patted the spot right next to him as his length throbbed.

You rolled your eyes as you threw the tissue away and walked over to him, sitting down. You looked into Miguel's eyes, tilting your head. "What else are we gonna do?"

Miguel leaned in, kissing your neck gently before dragged his hands down, caressing your thighs. "I was thinking about you all day.." Miguel chuckled, he looked at you before he tossed you back on the bed. He started tugging down your leggings and you helped him do so, once he got them off he tossed them aside. Miguel leaned down, pecking a kiss on your inner thigh as he looked up at you. "God.. I've missed being between your thighs." Miguel whispered as he pecked a kiss against your clothed cunt, giggling as he felt your hips thrust up a little.

Miguel then took your panties off, exposing your wet cunt. He gently pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles in that area gently. You sat up on the bed a bit, pressing your back against the headboard as you looked down at him, biting down on your lip. "Mm.." You brought your hand down and started to play with his dark hair. Miguel leaned in, licking your folds before he thrusted his tongue inside, pushing tongue in and out lapping up your juices, and exploring every inch of your walls. He pushed your thighs open since you kept trying to close them, closing his eyes as he got into it.

He hummed against your folds which sent vibrations against your senstive cunt, you let out a soft moan as you gripped onto the sheet. Miguel then started to play with you clit, he flattened out his tongue, opening his eyes to look up at you as he shook his head from side to side, rubbing his tongue up against your sensitive bud. He brought one of his hands up and gently started playing with your breast, grazing his rough fingertip against your chestnut nipples, starting to drive you crazy."Fuckk.." You whispered, looking down at him as your thighs gently squeezed his head.

"Oh baby.." You whispered, "Please.. more I want more." You whispered as you gently gripped onto his hair. Miguel did just as you wanted, slipping two fingers inside, pushing them as deep as they can go. He started off at a nice, gentle pace before quickly thrusting his fingers in and out in your slick causing a gasp to escape from your lips.

"Good girll..~" Miguel brought himself up, pressing his forehead up against your head. "Had an attitude with me earlier, mami.. then you decided to go on and tease me, as if I would let that slide.." Miguel whispered, the faint sounds of his fingers thrusting into your wet cunt was starting the feel the room. "Huh? What was that? You ain't got nothing to say? Talking all that shit.. and now look at you, speechless over damn fingers." Miguel smirked at you and you did nothing but moan in response.

You gripped onto Miguel's wrist, whimpering as you shot your head back. "F-Fuck..! I- B-Baby!~" You cried, your thighs starting to tremble. "Let it out.. let it all out, baby.. come on my fingers for me, you beautiful girl.. do it for me, cmon. Let it out..~" Miguel cooed as he leaned in and gently peck a kiss on your lips. "Is that the spot? Mhm.. That feel good, doesn't it? Yeah.. Yeah, just like that baby.. Let it all out, sweetheart." Your body twitched under the pressure, feeling a knot build up within your stomach.

You started to claw at his arm, as your body shook out soft whimpers and gasps. "I-.. Please.. P-Please!~" You cried out, gripping onto his arm tightly as your toes started to curl. Next thing you know, you were a crying mess when you finally came, gripping onto the sheets and shaking as you threw your head back. "Fuckk.." You whined, looking down and watching as he slipped his fingers out, gently licking at them. You panted softly as your cunt clenched around nothing, you looked up at Miguel with a frown.

"Aww, what's wrong now? You mad I made you feel good?" Miguel giggled as he leaned in, pecking a kiss on your lips. "C'mon.. don't be like that with me. Yknow you love me, yknow nobody else can make you feel the way I do, ain't that right baby?"

"M-Mhm.." You nodded your head, looking up at him you felt Miguel bring his hand up and gently hold your chin. He pressed his thumb against your lip and you opened your mouth, he pushed his thumb inside and watched as you started to suck it.

Miguel felt himself throb down there as he watched you suck his thumb and stare at him with those pretty eyes, you were driving him damn crazy. "Fuckk.." Once he pulled his hand away, you watched as he positioned himself between your legs, he used his hand to hold onto his lip, positioning his shaft up against your folds. "Take a deep breath, baby." He whispered.

You bit down on your lip as you watched Miguel, looking down at his thick length and then up at him, you tilted your head at him. You admired how beautiful your boyfriend was, that wonderful bronze skin he had and those strong muscles. God you was lucky, you didn't take a deep breath like he said because before you knew it he shoved it inside, causing you to let out a audible gasp.

"My bad, my bad." Miguel giggled, pushing himself out and pushing himself back inside at a slow pace, he placed his hands on your hips as he gentle held onto it. He bit down on his lip as you clamp down onto his length, "God, you feel amazing.." He chuckled, thrusting in and out at a slow pace, the sounds of your wet cunt filled the room. "Damn, you're wet down here." He whispered as he brought a hand over to your cunt, pressing a thumb up against your clit as he gently rubbed circles up against it.

You laid back on the bed, gripping onto the pillow you laid your head on as you looked up at him, moaning softly. "Mm.. It feels so big.." You whined, squirming around under Miguel a bit, the feeling his thumb against your clit and your eyes rolled back, as he teased the sensitive bud. "Fuckkk... It feels so good." You pleaded.

"Look at me. C'mon baby, focus on me." Miguel leaned in, pressing his forehead up against yours as he stared into your eyes just as you stared into his.

"Good girl.. keep looking at me, just like that. Don't take your eyes off of me." Miguel chuckled as his thrusts quickened, causing a whimper to escape from your lips. "Ohhh.. my goddd!" You moaned, as you leaned your head back. Miguel quickly slapped up gently and cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

You gave him nothing more than a dazed look, your bother was infected with pleasure you were no longer your normal self.. you were different nothing but a lustful mess trying to reach her orgasm.

"What did I just say?" Miguel growled at you, squeezing your cheeks with his hand. "I said look at me, you dont look away until I say so, do you understand?" He said in a demanding tone.

"M-Mhm.." You whined in response, him thrusting quick strokes into you was not helping any of this.

"Use your words, baby. Speak to me." Miguel whispered, pulling himself out and leaving only the tip in before quickly thrusting deep inside of you.

"Y-YES!" You whined, digging your nails into his arm, "Yes sir..~ I understand, I d-do.." You whimpered as your insides clenched around his length, you felt as though you were going crazy.

Feeling quite close to your limit, but you knew Miguel wouldn't stop.. he wouldn't stop until be had you shaking. Miguel chuckled as he pulled out, gently stroking himself. "Get on your stomach. Now." He demanded, and you did just as he wanted.

You turned to lay on your stomach, arching your back and lifting your ass into the air. You held onto your pillow as you let out a small sigh, it was gonna be a long night.

Miguel watch as you moved into position, he was obsessed with your body. He dragged his thumbs across your strech marks he always thought of them as a map on a woman's body, he leaned down and pecked a kiss up against your ass. "I'm obsessed with you, god. Everything about you is just absolutely amazing." Miguel used his hand to press his tip up against your hole, gently pushing himself inside getting nothing but a whine in return. "Better not hide your voice in that damn pillow." Miguel huffed, placing his hands on your hips, gently pressing his thumbs down on the dimples in your back as he thrusted forwards, forcing himself to the depths of you. He started to thrust at a slick pace, it wasn't too slow or too fast, just right and hitting all of your good spots.

"Oh f-fuck.." You cried, digging your nails into the pillow as you whined. "R-Right there.. Don't stop, please.." You pleaded to him as you brought on of your hands down, starting to rub your sensitive bud for more pleasure. You felt yourself get closer to climax, your body was starting to head up. Your thighs started to twitch, your back started to arch, you then pushed your hips back up against Miguel letting him know you wanted more.

You looked back at him with nothing but a look of lust on your face. Miguel looked down at you as you looked at him, he then waved at you which made you scoff. "I fucking hate you." You moaned as you looked away, of course he was gonna try to play around as if he wasn't tearing up your insides.

"No you don't. You love me. You getting fucked, don't you?" Miguel spanked your ass leaving a stinging sensation behind before he leaned down, pecking a kiss up against your back before speeding up his pace, making you grip onto the sheets. He was like an animal, fucking into you as if he was trying to wear a hole in you. Miguel then leaned down, wrapping a arm around your neck, putting you in a headlock as he pounded into you. He was so quick with his thrusts, yet he managed to hit the same spot every time, he knew that's where the magic, that's the spot that drives you crazy.

"Oh yeah.. Right there! M-Miguel.. Please, oh my-!" You suddenly let out a loud moan, as your body twitched underneath him, your eyes rolled back as Miguel brought his other hand down and started to rub circles up against your clit. He was starting to drive you crazy, "Oh my god I'm coming again.." You closed your eyes as your brows furrowed, feeling a knot start to be formed in your stomach as you grew closer to your climax.

Miguel slowed down a bit, doing a couple if deep strokes in you before you felt someone warm enter your hole, you let out a whine as you looked up at him. Miguel leaned in and pecked a kiss against your forehead, "You look so beautiful under me.." Miguel brought his hand up ans gently cupped your cheeks, squeezing your face. "You should see how pathetic you look right now."

You narrowed your eyes at Miguel, you ated whenever he humiliated you. You just stared into his eyes until he got off of you, you rested your head on the pillow as you attempted to catch your breath.

Miguel got up and left the room, coming back with a warm cloth and a glass of water. "Are you mad at me, baby?" Miguel teased you as he sat the glass down on the nightstand before wiping you down with the cloth. He leaned down and pecked a kiss up against your back.

You just huffed in response as you sat up, looking at him. You reached over and grabbed a glass, bringing the rim up to your lips and drinking the cold water. It was really refreshing after going to pound town. "Miguel." You looked over at him.

"Yes, my love?" Miguel looked at you with a smile, tilting his head at you before sitting down on the bed.

"I love you." You smiled at him, sitting the glass down on the nightstand, turning your body in his direction. "I don't express it enough to you sometimes."

"You don't have to." Miguel placed a hand on the side of your face, gently dragging his thumb across your skin, your dark skin contrasted perfectly with his tanned skin. "I already know you love me. If you didn't love me, then you wouldn't be all over me."

"How would you know if I didn't love you?" You tilted your head at him, raising your eyebrows at him.

"If you didn't love me, you wouldn't be here with me." Miguel leaned in, smiling before he pecked a kiss on your lips.

[buzzkillers]

A little of you, A little of Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Warning: non-con, power unbalance, implied smut, emotional manipulation, fuck or die (?)

He said it was a canon event. He was obviously lying. 

Not like that mattered, in the grand scheme of things anyway. Everyone lied to you here, no one thought you were worthy of the truth. This wasn't your world after all and this wasn't your New York. So the rules were just a bit different, a little off.

You couldn't get a pass by just being you.

Nah, you were a played out parlor trick. Something that's been copied and pasted into far too many universes and dimensions. You weren't special. Your name might've not been Peter Parker but that wasn't enough.

You needed to be more. You needed to have something. Anything that would impress Miguel enough to see you as a threat; as someone not worth lying to.

Outside of that, what was there to say? You were just a variant.

Another younger spider person that life hadn’t trampled on yet in your attempt at a normal life. You weren't Ben Reilly or Jessica or that miniature spider from Earth 6-877. And if you wanted to be nice (which was rare) you'd say that your purpose was to look like you had purpose. Like you had any business being here at all.

Just someone to look at Miguel so he could rant and whine about anomalies and dimensional pockets as if any of that sounded sane.

Yet, against your will, you fell in line all the same. Under his gaze, your back straightened and your heart beated erratically while you at least pretended to listen. You had no other choice really. Blame it on being young, or a spider or simply being too naive to see the bad in good.

But when someone with enough confidence, bravado and well everything that made Miguel who he was, said something. It was almost to easy to listen to him, it was practically expected. What else were you going to do? Be stubborn, selfish? Ignorant?

Maybe that’s why Miguel O’hara terrified you. 

You knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but listen anyway. In the grand scheme of things he was good at that. With precision and brute strength, he strung together a web of lies and sticky fibs that made you unable to leave. ‘Your canon event’ he had whispered to you in the darkness of his lair. (Cause what else would you call an office with only a computer as its light source) 

He had said it so smoothly, so easily; With open arms and eyes wide enough to hide the glimmer of red sheeted underneath it. There was no light show this time, no complicated holograms of the dead parents and the venom symbiotes or the constant blood and death and lost children, no it was just him.

And somehow that was way worse, way more horrific and ankle biting for someone like you.

After all, Miguel was the world, the universe and you were just this thing. This small, crushable thing that backed away and flinched when he took a step too close.

Who couldn’t hide the panicked breaths and syrupy heat that pooled in your stomach. You were nothing beneath the man that created it all. It was a fact that made your ears stay perked up beneath the mask. You were you and he was everything. You should've just listened to him. Yet,

“I don't understand,” it was a statement that broke through all of the other bullshit that bubbled in the base of your throat. All the fear and confusion until you looked at him head on. At Miguel whose frame suddenly swallowed the very shadow of you; With his tall stature and big eyes that glowed in the dark, a new light source that only made you tense up.

A moth that was afraid of the light. That's what you were and you couldn’t help but place another foot back; stumbling like a gangly spider with no stickiness to its legs.

Miguel of course, stood tall and firm. 

“I know it's a lot to take in, I didn’t want to be the one to tell you,” you frowned at that, another lie. So much so that your senses couldn’t help but ring a bit higher.

“Then why did you,” you blurted out, cause what else was there to say? Nothing it seemed because Miguel only looked down at you, forever down at you as if you were a kid.

As if you didn’t have a college essay due in a week and a date with your own Peter in another. Jesus, you paid taxes for crying out loud.

You weren’t a child, you weren’t Gwen or Pavitar or god forbid Peter B. You were fucking Spider-Woman, you could ask questions, you could ask why. But the longer the question lingered in the air, the more childish you felt and the more ridiculous you realized it was to question Miguel. 

Suddenly you felt silly, even if Jessica was suspiciously not here and Peter was gone and everyone that littered the corners of this office of his was now non-existent.

To be honest, if it weren’t for the scuffs you heard beneath the floorboards, you might’ve been tricked into thinking that you were the only ones in this building, in this entire shitty city even. 

The corners of your lips now trembled and your hands pulled at the spandex of your suit. You looked down. “I have a date next week,”

"it's gonna be our first one," it was a shitty protest but,

“And do you think that's worth the end of the multiverse?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply crowded you in and backed you up roughly until your feet twisted again with the other. 

“Do you think your Peter would want everyone to die just so what? He can get his dick wet?” Your face twisted at that.

“Go fuck yourself," Cause nah you weren’t a push over.

Yet, you could only bring your mask halfway up to say it; enough for him to read your lips and see the way they sneered at him. He didn’t need to know that your eyes were firm on the ceiling the whole time.

“You know nothing about me, about him,”

He got closer, suddenly you were chest to chest. “I know that the Miguel in your universe is dead,”

“I know that in every version of you and every version of me there's an us, no matter how it happens, or how quick it is,” Bullshit, it was all fucking bullshit. But he said it with such confidence and reluctance, like the words were hard to think about, much less say.  

“Listen, I’ll make it quick” he continued, a rough hand now on your shoulder. All that muscle that you built over the years now nothing beneath his grip.

Optimistically, some part of you thought he meant for it to be reassuring but your senses have started to scream and there was a tremble in your thighs that wasn't there before. This time, it was Miguel that pushed you back, your knees buckling into something hard. 

“No, there has to be another way,” 

“There's not—unfortunately” he added on, like it was an afterthought. 

"Bullshit,"

“Did you even try?”

“Try?” he cocked his head, jaw clenched tight. “Trying means there's a possibility of failing, Spider-woman,” 

“Are you willing to take that risk?” Are you? Have you ever? Of course, the words stayed stuck in your throat.

Buried and dead, all while Miguel looked at you with the intensity of someone who regularly gave false choices before solemnly he rolled his shoulders. Whatever he found in the tremble of your lips and awkwardness of your gait making him attempt something close to a smile. 

"Listen, I'm trying to be nice," He sighed, his fangs gleaming beneath his lips. "Or do you think I want this? Want you?" And ok, ouch.

"Man, I just think this situation is fucked,"

"I mean, why does it have to be you," it could be any other varient. Any other Miguel. But the comment only earned you another childish look down.

Another sneer that said you knew nothing, he knew everything and you might as well just fall in line. The grip on your shoulders grew tighter. Beneath him you suffocated.

Above you, his eyes bled red and his fangs never looked so sharp. "The multiverse could collapse at any moment and you want conveniency?"

"I was just thinking-"

"And that's the problem,"

"You thought, and now we're debating the fate of trillions,"

"Are you really that selfish?" he spat and your eyes widened.

Selfish. You seized up at that word like it was poison and in a way it was. Selfish and Spider-Woman were antonyms. They fought constantly and neither ever won. Selfishness was a curse, a bane that wove itself into your skin until you dragged it out yourself. Pulling and pulling and pulling until you felt it kiss your underskin.

Selfish. Bile bubbled in your throat and your fingers tingled. He was lying. You knew this, you felt the truth sting at your skin, felt the pricks at the base of your neck and yet,

"Ok," you whispered. One word but Miguel didn't need you to repeat yourself.

“Ok," he drew out testedly, as if he was tasting his own victory.

"Then come on,” he gestured to something behind you; his expression still sorrow as if this was hard for him. “Bend over,”

“On your tippy toes and widen your legs,” God, he did not just say ‘tippy toes’.

‘Is that a part of the canon event too?’ you wanted to ask.

But to speak it meant to acknowledge what this really was. It meant that you couldn’t pretend that you ever had a choice. 

Yet, your tongue still burned with questions, with the why,why,why. A list of snarky, back handed comments laid at the tip of your tongue. You had so many questions to ask.

And childishly you couldn't help but think that maybe you could change his mind, maybe you could convince him that this wasn't worth it. If only you used the right set of words, the correct cadence, an inspiring lilt to your tongue.

But Miguel O’hara was terrifying and big and all the doors were closed and there was only one source of light and-

You turned around and bent over, on your tippy toes. 

Suddenly, a strong ache stretched from your legs and into your belly. Before eventually it twisted into your senses and made your head hurt and core heat up. Did your body know? Did it understand what was happening?

From behind you, Miguel's feet stayed stagnant, frozen in place. 

It was an reaction that gave you half a mind to stand back up cause what if this was a joke? A sick fucking joke and everyone was about to come out of the corners and laugh and tease you for again being the dumbest of the spidermen before what sounded like the largest exhale known to man bounced off the walls and Miguel was directly behind you. A large hand pressed onto your back, as if he thought you were gonna escape, as if you could. 

“One day you’ll thank me for this,” he whispered, while you ignored the way his breath went ragged, and the way his talons slowly spliced at the spandex of your suit.

Quickly, your cunt hit cold air and you shuddered violently. Miguel took another deep breath, his taloned fingers brushed against your cheek before gently, patiently he pulled the mask off your face. Your braids now splayed across the table.

"Now look forward, we're saving the world," then his suit completely dematerialized, and you widened your legs.

[vampdes]

“you’re scandalous, cariña.” ☆ actor & model miguel o’hara / actor & photographer black fem. rdr.

tags — friends —› lvrs. fake relationship/ contractual relationship au. social media au. slow burn. angst. misunderstood intentions. rdr is a scandal magnet. rdr is an emoji lvr. miguel is bitchy & caring at the same time. characters are sometimes ooc. includes some! personal character head-canons.

writer notes — collaborated w. @asukases!

chap. notes — this is the chapter index! playlist linked below ⭐.

last updated — nov. 22nd, 23.

prologue (fast paced.) —› ⭐.

chap 1. —› ⭐.

chap 2. —› ⭐.

chap 3. —› ⭐.

chap 4. —› ⭐.

chap 5. —› ⭐.

playlist: ⭐.

© sickdaniel . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[lemmetreatya]

hear me out… the spiderman kiss with miguel 👉🏾👈🏾

it’s a canon event for every spidey (source: trust me)

YES ITS A CANON EVENT, SOURCE: ME!!!!

“thank you for dropping me home.” you say.

walking up the few steps to your house and getting to the front door, you turn to see miguel looking towards you with eyes that gleamed even within the charcoal blue night.

he however, stood at the bottom step.

“no worries.” he flashes with a strong smile. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you wave him off as he turns himself around and proceeds to walk the way you both came. it was disappointing, because you thought the date had gone really well and that you were finally making progress with the man. however, seeing him be that eager to go made your heart sag.

you unlock the door to your apartment and walk in, dumping your bag by the door along with your shoes.

normally after you had a night out and the evening was still young, youd at least have a drink or a few snacks to yourself but all you wanted to do was go to your room and sulk.

flipping on your light switch, you sigh as you fling yourself onto your bed back first, your arm covering over your eyes. you would have stayed like that had it not been for the knock at your bedroom window. suddenly getting up, you shuffle towards it before opening the glass vertically. your face automatically lights up once you see who it is.

“miguel!”

he still had his shirt and smart pants on — smile as big as ever — but the man was hanging upside down in front of the glass.

“i forgot sumn.” he says, but as soon as does, he’s capturing your face in his and pulling you to kiss him within the gap of the window.

the kiss is so tailored for you that it makes you think he’d been practicing elsewhere. you’re not sure if the thought of that made you jealous or if it made you feel special that he’d do all that just for you.

regardless, once miguel (reluctantly) pulls back from the kiss, you stick your arm out to lightly hit his shoulder.

“idiot.”

“really thought i’d just leave you hanging dry like that, huh?”

rolling your eyes, you walk away from your window and back to your bed, only this time you sit on it with your arms splayed behind you.

“whatever. you coming in or not?”

miguel unlatches himself from his webs which drop him on the fire stairway just under your window before crawling up the remainder of the wall and scrambling into your bedroom.

“oh!” he says with a devious grin as soon as he lands onto your floor. “i thought you’d never ask.”

[noelan1]

Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

[kentosblkgf]

Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf

Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.

Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.

Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.

His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.

He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”

Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.

“Hush baby, be patient.”

“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.

You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.

“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”

You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.

Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.

“Miguel please, more.”

You whined.

“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)

Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.

“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)

Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.

“Look at yourself.”

Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.

Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.

But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.

It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.

He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.

"You gonna take it?"

It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.

"Promise."

That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.

You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.

"Deeper."

Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.

"Mig- oh fuck wait."

"Don't be a liar baby."

letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.

Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.

Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.

He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.

He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.

Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.

"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.

He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.

"Hold your legs." Fuck.

He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.

"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.

"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.

"Better keep that promise."

Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.

You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.

"C'mon, baby."

he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.

Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.

He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"So good.."

It sounds like you are whining.

"You're fucking me so good."

Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.

He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.

"Open your eyes."

You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.

You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.

"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?

"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.

His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.

You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.

His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.

The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.

"Cum baby."

He's pleading for you to cum.

So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.

Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.

"Come back to me, c'mon."

He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.

"M'gonna move okay?"

You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.

He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.

"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.

You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.

This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

[wh1sp3rr]

𑊡˚+₊🕸️✦ — SPIDER-MAN KISS + miguel; drabble

cw: nsfw, smut, one night stand??, oral (f receiving), softdom!miguel, afab!reader

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

spider-man kiss with miguel!! except it leads to him getting handsy quick and no one’s around anyway so why not? he backs you up against a wall and lets his hand melt into the dip of your back finding soft sanctuary there. the ridges of his mask don’t pull up any further past his nose so you can’t even see who’s nueva york’s best kisser. you take his hands and lead them to the slit of space your skirt creates, grazing the topside of your pussy ever so slightly. he gasps a little softly; startled and quickly removes his hands to return to your back’s slope, yet you reassure him with a nod: “it’s okay.”

desperate: he continues doughing at the plushness of your flesh, dragging down slowly from your back, to your waist, down to your hips and finally cupping your ass. he’s on his knees now, his strength the reason why the gravel digging into his kneecaps doesn’t bother him. and then he looks up. you wished you could attach a face to the plump lips and chiselled jaw that stroked against your skin so gracefully. “what’s your name?” you ask innocently. he stays looking at you— at least that’s what you think, and presses firm kisses on your thighs hiking further and further up to the dark shadow between your legs.

“what’s yours?” his slightly accented voice intrigues.

“i asked you first.” you tease sweetly, wanting to see where this was going. you spot a growing smile on his tan face: one that elongates a little when he presses another open-mouthed kiss near your core.

“don’t play that game with me.” he stays smiling.

through your underwear, he starts licking up at your entrance; kitten ones at first and your sweet moan graces his ears erotically; they almost prick up like an animal’s at this. his tongue presses further into the thin cotton that protects you from the outside world. his mouth sounds full and voice compromised when he groans: “you’re the sexiest girl i’ve ever seen.” he delves in more.

“eat me out properly then.” you whine, needy for more.

his easy chuckle sends soft flutters of air to your pussy that ignite a flame. “tell me your name.” he goads.

“y/n.” you comply him with, almost instantly.

this makes him stay smiling and he pulls down your underwear before repeating the name back to himself: “y/n.” he tests, dragging out the final syllable. “that’s a pretty name. i like it.” you can only moan at the anticipated contact of his tongue connecting with your folds. “shouldn’t be walking this late out on your own, y/n.” he kisses softly— wetly. “it’s dangerous.” you attempt to move your hips a little but it’s a struggle, spider-man’s got you locked in a vice right now.

“thank you for saving me.” you say.

he always liked it when people thanked him for saving them. he just liked knowing that some people still had manners, still knew that despite it being his job, despite him being spider-man, it was the polite thing to do. he basks in your warmth and scent, an escape from the prickly december air and speaks one sound.

“miguel.”

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Lauro 🧼

[keenzinemugstudent]

(Miguel yelling at Miles)

Y/n: What's the problem? Why you yelling at him like that tho?

Miguel: Yelling?

Y/n: *Gets in his face* YELLING!!!!

[slushycoookie]

Between Two Worlds ~ Loser!Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader

★Word Count: 4k ★Content: Reader is Fem!/chubby, I also made them more black-coded (I usually do with all my readers but it's much more prominent here), Miguel gets a lap dance AND a hand job on the same night, Tyler and Dana shows up (ugh), but so does Gabriel (yay!) ★A/N: The demons won, idk what to say. Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

Miguel stops by to see you again.

He wanted to explain himself to you. The way he ran off a few days ago after you laid a finger on him, hearing everyone else laugh at his shyness wasn’t how he wanted that to go. How watching you spin around the pole changed his life. Especially after a couple of rough days. Well, rough weeks. His job hounding him for constant updates on a major project he was working on. And the fact that he lost his fiancé to another man.

He thought going to The Weave, one of the hottest clubs in Nueva York, would help a lot. Only for him to see you, the most beautiful person in the world. But he didn't need to explain all of that to you. The most he could do as an acceptable form of apology was to give you your money. After witnessing your amazing dancing.

Miguel asks one of the bartenders if he could talk to you alone but gets pushback. From the owner, Jessica, the only way to get you alone with him during club hours is to request a private VIP room. To talk or do other things. He begrudgingly settled for a simple lap dance, knowing he was going to leave as soon as he gave you the money.

Miguel’s resolve starts to falter at the idea of being alone with you like that. He heard his heart in his ears as he stood alone in the empty room. It wasn’t even that small, a comfortable size for endeavors such as these. The music booming across the walls matched the beat of his heart. Miguel rehearsed in his head what to say to you a bunch of times, only to come crashing down when you walked in.

The same sweet scent as before hits his nostrils. Your outfit was different this time, of course, it would be. A matching sparkly, purple bikini set. You must really like to shine. And be tall as he noticed you walking easily in platform heels. But you didn’t match his height.

“Hi.”

Miguel wipes his sweaty palms on his pants to give you a handshake, “Hello.”

Your gaze hits the outstretched arm, not expecting that. He still has some manners. So you take it, a pretty smile across your face.

“You requested a dance from me?”

“Yes! Wait, uh no not exactly.” Before you get confused, he pulls out the large stack of money he was supposed to throw the other night. Around five hundred dollars. “I-I wanted to give you this.”

Your eyes widened at the stack of cash, “For what?”

“Your dance. I didn’t throw any money.” He feels himself blush once more, “I was too… enraptured with your dance. I'm sorry.” Miguel extends out the money and you hesitate for a moment before taking the cash, settling it on the table for now.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He shoots you a shy smile before maneuvering towards the exit.

“You don't want the dance?”

Miguel quickly shakes his head, “No, no I just wanted to give you the money. I didn’t have any cruel intentions.”

You laugh and his heart squeezes with pain. Once again, he's become a joke to you.

“Honey,” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Requesting a lap dance isn't cruel. We have about thirty minutes in here, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste.”

He nods, the idea making sense. “Only if you're comfortable with that.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

A gentle hand rubs his arm for comfort and he sits on one of the black leather chairs. His hands gripping the arms of the seat, trying to calm his nerves. You fiddle with the remote and turn on music to match the mood. A slow, sensual song sets the atmosphere. The simple action of flipping your curly hair, the strands gracefully covering your shoulders causes him to get hard.

Miguel swallows, tugging at his shirt collar. You strut towards him and he feels like he's seeing you better the second time. How your thigh slightly jiggles from your walk to your breasts almost pouring out from your top. He tries not to stare when you spin around in front of him, letting him get a good look at you.

You lean over and cup his face, he tries not to lean into your touch but closes his eyes. Your soft, manicured hands trailing down to his neck, down to his blazer.

“Do you wanna take this off?”

He opens his eyes and sees you not too far from his face. Your dazzling makeup highlights your wonderful eyes, while you’re tugging at his clothes. “Can I?”

“Of course, babe.” You help him remove the jacket, gently placing it on the other chair instead of tossing it. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes.”

Once again, you shoot him a fine smile and he wonders if you could see him sweating. You don't say anything as you continue, taking off his glasses, and setting them on the table. Miguel blinks a few times to get used to the slightly blurry vision. His eyesight becomes clear when your full ass comes into view -slowly sliding back against his thighs, up to his growing erection. The grip on the chair arms gets tighter as he restrains himself from touching you. Even when you do it again, rolling your lower body, putting him in a trance.

He tries not to jump when your hands rest on top of his, sliding up to his forearms and back down to his knuckles. You squat, gyrating your entire body, hair swishing amid the quiet air before you slowly stand back up. He sits still as he's afraid to make any movements.

You straddle him, placing your thumb and index finger on his chin for him to have his eyes on you. And he does, not looking away when you lean back, showing off your perfect body. Your hips roll in tandem with the music, so fluid like water. Your clothed cunt brushed against his painfully obvious bulge. You hardly break a sweat, your makeup still as fresh as it was when you walked in.

Miguel feels cum leaking out his tip, unsure if he should end the session short. So he can fuck his hand and imagine it was you. He whimpers, wanting to show you what you were doing to him. You seem to notice as you grin during the dance. Leaning forward, hands tracing his chest, feeling what a built man he is underneath that white buttoned-down shirt.

“You want a hand job?”

He almost chokes on his saliva, “W-What?”

“You heard me.” You don’t stop while speaking, playfully unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m good at them. And you seem like you want one.” His eyes dart down to the bulge in his pants, face getting hot.

“I-I…” Miguel wasn’t sure the type of person he’d be if he said yes. Especially when he barely knows you. But you offered and he's a man of decent manners. Plus, he wasn’t looking forward to coating his hand with his cum tonight. “I would like that.”

You take your time reaching for his cock. Your purple acrylic nails, scrapped along his chest, down to his abdomen. He tries to slow down his breathing when you reach his belt, carefully undoing it. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. It doesn’t take much for you to pull him out of his boxers. And your eyes grow wide at the sight of him.

Cock hard, veins running along his shaft, pre cum leaking from his tip. He tries to look anywhere else but you don’t let him when you grab his chin. Face close to his.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“I’m not…” He proves it when you let go, eyes on you.

“You’re a big boy.” You still look at his cock, fascinated at the sight of him. Miguel doesn’t say anything, unsure how to respond to that. “I’ll take care of you.” You spit in your hand before touching him.

He tries not to orgasm right then and there. More cum leaks out, helping with the lubrication as you slide down his shaft. Your touch is better than anything else he’s had. He groans when you come back up to his tip, swirling your thumb around it. All while your eyes remain on him, not watching yourself and seeing what you’re doing.

“You like that?”

Miguel shudders as you stroke him, “Y-Yes.”

He still doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t buck his hips up into you. He allows you full control. A gorgeous person like yourself, messing with someone like him. He didn’t know how it came to this and he didn’t want to think about that.

You go faster, a tighter hold on his shaft. Miguel inadvertently spreads his legs wider, louder groans escaping his lips. He’s trapped between your voluptuous body and the fragrant scent he desperately wants to be full of. His lips parted with a plea to taste you, but that would be selfish.

“You want a kiss?” You whisper, nose pressed against his nose, lips hovering above his own.

He doesn’t trust his voice when he nods immediately. You kiss him, swallowing his eager noises. A part of him starts to slip when he grips the back of your neck. Your lips part and he slips his tongue inside, whining at your taste. He bucks his hips up into your hand, feeling that familiar sensation in his stomach. The music is blocked from his ears as he hears your moans, showing you’re also enjoying it. And that makes him happy. So happy that you’re enjoying what you’re doing to him.

To the point where he climaxes.

It was sudden when he moans between your lips, body stilling as his cum coats your hand, staining his pants. You pump him as much as you can, placing small kisses over his face while he comes down from his high. When you stand, he remembers your cum covered hand and points to his jacket.

“I have something you can use…” You dig into his jacket, using the non-cum covered hand. Miguel’s heart flipped at the small gesture. You pull out his pocket square, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can wash it later.”

You wipe your hand off, saving some room for him to wipe off any mess he made. For once, he was glad he didn’t cum so much this time. As he grabs his things and puts on his glasses, you start making your way to the exit, five hundred in hand. “Hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“W-Wait.” He quickly goes up to you, pulling out his wallet for any cash he’s had on hand. It was only a hundred, but he hoped it was enough.

“That’s nice of you.” You say while taking the hundred, “I was okay with the five you gave me.”

“I can give you more if you want.” He sees his card and wonders if there’s an ATM nearby he could use. Would another five hundred be enough? Maybe he should shoot for a thousand.

“No, no. Don’t spend all your money on me.” You push the wallet close to his chest, “You gotta eat dinner, you know?”

Miguel lets out a light chuckle, “Right…”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miguel.” He loves how his name sounds across your lips. “Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

He doesn't stop thinking about you when he's home. You fill up his mind as he eats dinner, takes a shower, and lie in bed. An extraordinary person like yourself looks his way, even if it is mandatory. Miguel hasn’t felt this way since he met Dana, his ex-fiancé. Before, she was all he could think about and get lost in. Now, he had you.

His coworkers told him not to fall in love with the dancers. Albeit, they said it jokingly but now he was screwed. This wasn’t even a good time, Dana still had some of her clothes at his place. The break-up was still fresh. Miguel tried to push it out of his mind by focusing on work and strengthening his relationship with his family. But some days were bad. Like he didn’t think if he was worthy of love again.

Miguel was afraid of others thinking you were a rebound and he was seeing it himself. That wasn't the case in his mind. Maybe he should set an arrangement? Otherwise, he’d come and see you every day if he can. And while he wasn’t low on funds, he didn’t want to get that way.

So he started with having you fill his thoughts.

At work, he was in a much better mood. Splicing genes and dealing with DNA, regular geneticist things. He was even for talking to his coworkers, who finally asked about his strip club experience.

“Who did you go see?” Miguel’s colleague, Aaron, asked while handing him a cup of coffee.

“Silk. I liked her dance.”

“Oh, so you got a personal lap dance from her?” He nods, not wanting to go into detail on his experience with you. That was for him and him alone. “Man, lemme tell you, the perfect woman right there. That rack alone? Top tier breasts.”

Miguel shook his head, “She’s more than just her body.”

“Says the man who went in there to see a woman’s body.”

“Right, I’m the problem here.” He bit his tongue, deciding that was enough conversation for the day. Miguel excused himself from the break room, aiming to finish up work in his lab. He tried not to let his coworker's comments sour his mood, but something else sideswiped him.

Tyler called Miguel into his office. And he was not looking forward to that.

He saw the reason when Dana was on Tyler’s lap, laughing and joking around. Her face close to his, almost whispering about something he didn’t catch.

“Miguel!” Dana noticed him first and tried to stand but Tyler stopped her, sitting her back down—a possessive arm around her.

“Don’t go, my dear. You just got comfortable.”

She wanted to object to the fact her husband-to-be was in the office but Miguel stepped forward, “It's fine. You wanted to see me, sir?”

Or he should say father, with venom laced through his words. That would've caused a scene.

“Yes, I wanted to ask about the spider DNA and how that's going?”

Miguel clenched his jaw, knowing full well this could've been done through a phone call. “It's going fine. Still have hundreds of DNA to go through.”

“Hundreds? You’ve been having a slow work ethic these past couple of weeks.” Tyler's brows furrowed, “I wonder why.”

‘You know why.’

“It's nothing, sir. I promise you, I'll catch up.”

“You better. I need something to give these shareholders at the end of the quarter.”

Miguel nods, motioning to the door, “May I go now?”

“Sure, sure.” Tyler allows, not before letting Miguel see him pull Dana close to him, showing what he stole.

The day was now ruined. Even thoughts of you weren't enough to get him back to his happy state. He needed to see you again, and go over the arrangement he wanted to set. But he's already been there for three days this week. And he didn’t want anyone to get suspicious of his constant presence.

Luckily, Gabriel called him after work.

“Mig! I'm hungry!”

He held in a sigh, “You know where to get food, Gabri.”

“Duh, this was an invitation to go out with Kasey and me. Have dinner with us?”

Miguel glanced at the clock in his apartment, “Fine. Where?”

“I'll text you the place.”

It resulted in him being a third wheel to his brother and girlfriend. The Italian restaurant they picked was low-key as Miguel stared out the window to ignore Gabriel and Kasey's banter. Wishing he was somewhere else.

“Soooo,” Gabriel leaned forward, capturing his brother's attention, “How have you been?”

Miguel raised a brow, “I've been okay.”

“Just okay?” He leans closer, almost brushing along the breadsticks.

“Just okay.”

“Oh good.” He leans back, arm draped over his girlfriend, “For a second there, I thought you’d be hung up on Dana.”

“That bitch of a whore.” Kasey added, nibbling on a breadstick.

“Exactly.”

“Don’t call her that.” Miguel says, no matter how right Kasey was. “She chose not to be with me anymore, I can respect that.”

“By cheating on you with your boss.” Gabriel reminds him as if the entire ordeal was still fresh. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant thoughts of Miguel wondering what he did wrong in the relationship and how it came to this.

“Tyler…was a better option for her.” It was all he could say before intentionally propping up his menu to get a good look at what he was ordering. He didn’t want to go back and forth with his brother. He’s already done that enough with one too many people. Once they ordered, Miguel couldn’t hide behind his menu anymore, so he thought to bring up something else. “I’ve already met someone else.”

“And proceeded to not tell your little brother?” Gabriel clutches his chest in dramatics, “Does Mami know?”

“What do you think?” Miguel gave him a look, which his brother reciprocated when Kasey took over.

“Okay, who are they? Spill.”

“I’d…rather not.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m feeling it out. I want to make sure it’s not a rebound because of what happened with Dana.” As much as he wanted to boast about you, there was still the problem that he barely knew you. He couldn’t let anyone know about you until he does.

“Fair.”

“Are they cute at least?” Gabriel earned a smack on the head from her, “What? I’m just asking!”

“He’ll talk about them when he wants to talk about them.”

“Alright, alright.” Miguel’s lips curled upwards with amusement at the two. “Keep me updated, okay?”

“I will.”

Miguel comes back to The Weave with a mission. He stands in line, waiting to be admitted with the others, rehearsing what he wants to propose to you. The head of security, which Miguel finds out his name is Noir, pats him down after collecting the thirty-dollar admissions fee.

“Have fun, Mr. Science Guy.”

Miguel walks in, getting used to the bright flashing lights inside the club. A few dancers are already on stage, getting covered with money. He doesn't see you though. So he goes to the bar to ask for you. And be graced by the owner herself.

“Oooh the nerdy guy came back.” She teases, handing customers shots of tequila. Her outfit is slightly more modest compared to her employees. A red, leather bodysuit paired with a matching jacket and black boots that went to her thighs. He glanced down at her exposed cleavage before he looked at her eyes, “This is your third time being here, so you must got some money.”

Miguel snorts, “Are you counting?”

“Hell yeah. You pay well, gotta make sure it stays that way.” She offers him a shot but he declines, going back to the task at hand.

“Is she here?”

“Now, you know I need a name.” Jessica peers through her yellow-coated shades.

“Silk.” He swallows, “I want to talk to her for a bit.”

“Sure. ‘Talk’.” She emphasizes before stepping out from behind the bar, calling in some blonde guy named Ben to take over. “She's on her break but I'll give you a bit to speak to her.”

Miguel follows Jess to the back of the place. Maneuvering past half-drunk people, not trying to step on the money that was thrown all over the place, while keeping his eyes straight ahead at the multiple lap dances and pole dancing he came across. She led him down a series of steps, the loud, thumping music fading away.

“Guess who's baaaack?” Jess sings as she leads him to the dressing room. A large room filled with bright lights, plenty of locker rooms and mirrors, and an area in the corner which he assumed was the bathroom. Momentarily, he saw you leaning against the table, slowly munching away on a cookie. Eyes unfocused but coming back to reality when they stepped into the room.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Ooh, so yall are on a first-name basis already?” You shake your head as Miguel seals his lips. Jess grins, not wanting to tease any further. “He wanted to talk to you. So you got ten minutes before I need you back out there.”

You shoot her an ok sign when Miguel says, “Thank you.”

“Mmhm.”

As Jess walks out of the room, he sees your outfit. Your body is in full view through the long, sheer black outfit, exposing your legs. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks.” You give him a brief smile, “So what brings you here? Want another hand job?”

“Ah no, thank you.”

“Aww, you didn’t like the last one? I’ll admit it was a bit impromptu, I didn’t have my lube on me.” You explain. Miguel figures you must give a lot of hand jobs.

“No, I enjoyed it. Very much so.” He admits, ducking his head, the linoleum floor looking a lot nicer right now. “I wanted to see if we could come up with an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?”

“Yes. A certain day when I can see you and only you.” He continues, “All of these other ladies are nice but I only want you.”

“I'm flattered.” You tap on the table to get him to sit beside you and he does. Taking in the close proximity, “I'm surprised a man like you wants to frequent this place, out of all places.”

“A man like me?” He questions but then understands what you meant, “You mean a scientist?”

“…yeah, sure. Let's go with that.” You pat his shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I want to do something different? I go to work, go home, see my family, and that's it. Not a way to live.”

“True. But you thought that something different was going to a strip club?”

“Y-Yes.” He rubs the back of his neck while your eyes are filled with questions. But you didn’t ask any. “My ex-fiancé thought I was boring. And maybe I am, but I wanted to prove it.”

“Ah, so this is for getting back at your ex, got it.”

Miguel feels a shift from you after saying that and he goes to correct himself, “No wait, I'm not using you, don't think that way. I just wanted something new to my routine.”

“Then what does this arrangement entail?” You ask, hands on your hips. “Because a lot of people come to the club to see ass, tiddies, and pussy. Then go about their business. It looks like you're asking for more than that.”

This conversation is going all wrong. Now, it looks like he offended you which wasn't his intention. Miguel wasn’t sure what exactly he said to make you hostile towards him in the first place so he backtracks.

“I just want to see you and talk.”

“While I give you a lap dance or something?” He nods, “You know I'm not a therapist.”

“I know.”

“And you know you're still going to have to pay me.”

“R-Right, of course. I have plenty of money.”

“But don't waste it all on me. You got yourself to take care of.”

“Yes, yes you're absolutely right.”

“Okay.” You sigh, stuffing the rest of the cookie in your mouth before brushing the crumbs off your body. Miguel wished he was the cookie crumb that grazed along your chest, but he bit his lip not to say anything. “I have a headlining dance on Tuesdays but if you want to make sure we have plenty of time together, then Thursdays.”

“Okay.”

Time was up and you had to go back out on the floor. As you push him out, he stops right by the doorway to the establishment, blocking your path.

“So I'll see you on Tuesday?”

You roll your eyes, “I told you I have a dance on Tuesdays.”

“I know.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if they want to smile or not. “I'll see you then.”

Tag list (lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged): @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings @bajbr @freehentai

@chubbybyunnie @ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour @imamexican @tatatida

[fizziedoodle]

dating miguel o'hara pt.2 ᯽

[kechiwrites]

cw: just pure smut + werewolf!miguel x reader, cause he won the poll and i wanted to get my crazy out before i start writing something longer.

Ruminating on the idea of Werewolf!Miguel expending all of his rut energy on you. Bending you nearly in half so he can bite into the plushness of your belly before he drags his tongue down the back of your thigh, just above the hood of your clit.

Werewolf!Miguel who tongue fucks you without mercy, dipping the muscle deep within your folds, growling low and hungry in his chest at the taste of you. Eats you messy and thorough, until you drip down his chin, soaking the bed below you.

Werewolf!Miguel who is rougher than he’d originally planned, blood rushing with unspent energy, the looming certainty of his rut forcing him to grind his teeth rather than sink them into the skin of your chest, throat, or thighs.

Werewolf!Miguel who shoves you further up the bed a bit too quickly, causing your head to thud against his headboard. Werewolf!Miguel who uses all of his remaining willpower to stop his actions for a moment, who rubs his hand over the crown of your head, haphazardly searching for a bump. When he doesn’t find anything, he lowers himself again, spreading your legs, and slotting his mouth over your heat.

Werewolf!Miguel who revels in the sound of you moaning above him, your hips twitching towards him when he drags his tongue through the lips of your cunt, swirling the tip of it over your clit and sucking hard. Who palms at your ass, sinking his fingers into the flesh and groaning low and desperate at the taste of you.

Werewolf!Miguel who grinds his erection against the soft sheets below him, losing himself in the sensory heaven that is your body. Your entrance pulses and clenches around nothing, entreating him to fill you up, like he was born to do, to fulfill his biological imperative and sink balls deep.

Werewolf!Miguel whose rut makes it easy for him to get carried away, picturing himself as a huge, looming predator, implacable in his pursuit, desperate to breed, to sow seed and watch it fucking bloom, who can't bite you, shouldn't bite you, knows the risks but doesn’t really care when he gets to french-kiss his mate's pussy.

Werewolf!Miguel who despite his brooding, severe nature is a talker, a goader, a teaser in bed, who is now silenced by the almost painful compulsion to fuck you stupid. Who pulls away from your swollen cunt to flip your positions, who would've fucked you through the mattress if he was any further gone.

Werewolf!Miguel who is so deep in his need for you, he can barely restrain himself from fucking into your fist as you try to line the head of his dick up to your entrance. Who fidgets and moans when his tip kisses your clit, your ass, before notching inside you.

Werewolf!Miguel who laments that his slavering, near angry, desire has you shoving the webbing of your hand into his panting mouth to save your throat and shoulders from any aching half crescents. Bouncing on his cock while he whines high and keening, arching his back and planting his feet so the tip of his cock gets as close to your womb as physically possible.

Werewolf!Miguel who howls loud and desperate as your insides milk him for everything he has, who’s knot swells and catches near instantly, ensuring every bit of his cum finds purchase inside you, fills you with no mercy. 

yeah…

[lemmetreatya]

Oh what about Miguel getting sick and the reader taking care of him?

AHHHHH!! i know he hates being looked after too 😩😩 so stubborn

“i don’t want you looking after me.” 

as soon as miguel says those words, a hefty sneeze leaves him. you can only tut, ignoring his nonsensical request as you place his honey, lemon and ginger tea on the coaster. 

“i dont care about what you want. right now, you need medical attention.” you say with concern. 

“medical attention is such a harsh phrase.” 

at this rate, miguel is borderline pouting as he turns his head away from you and into the back of the couch. 

“well, what else d’you suppose i use?” 

miguel starts to lightly groan towards the back of his throat. it sounds like a deep, scratchy alternative to purring and so you can definitely tell he feels unwell. 

“cuidado suena vago. me gusta���el cuidado. usa cuidado.” [1]

you have to concentrate to work out what hes muttering about. its only after several seconds where you work out that he was speaking in spanish. 

“cuidado…” you repeat to yourself. “nursing? care? so you want me to use care instead?”

miguel groans again but this time he’s cosying into the back of the couch. for someone who was so adamant they didn’t need looking after, he was definitely displaying actions of wanting someone to pay attention to him. 

“mhm. care.” he mutters. 

with a sigh, you lean over to the other side of the couch to retrieve a blanket before wrapping it over him. 

“fine. ill give you care, yeah?”

as you tuck the blanket under either side of him, you mumble softly to yourself 

“gosh, you’re such a big baby.”

you know in any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have let you get away with saying that about him but surprisingly, miguel entertains you. 

“if im such a baby then you’re gonna have to reaaaallly take care of me.” he mumbles. 

surprised by his response, you slightly pause. once again it takes you a few seconds to acknowledge what he’s saying but once you do, you’re laughing aloud. 

“yeah. yeah, i really am, aren’t i?” you muse before softly soothing your hand over his head. 

———————————-

[1]: care sounds vague. i like care. use care

[inkdrinkerworld]

miguel would actually be *so* gently while fingering you..omg

omg yes!! cw: 18+ONLY MDNI, smut, fingering, poor spanish dirty talk, messy kisses

physical touch is big for miguel so having you laid bare like this for him is big.

he's not the grumpy boss who yells anymore, he's just himself, and he's shy about it.

his lips lave kisses to you thigh, hot, wet sloppy presses of his lips that don't stop till your chest is heaving and your eyes are squeezed shut.

"please miguel," your voice is thick with need. desperation dropping from every syllable and it gives miguel a little confidence boost- to know that you want him as much as he wants you.

his last kiss is pressed right at the apex of your thighs, his fingers gliding through your slick to find your entrance.

your breath catches and his eyes are glued to your face. your bottom lip is being bitten to all hell and he can tell you're trying to remain still. his finger circles your entrance again and your shuddering breath makes him smirk.

"please don't tease me," you beg and miguel indulges you. one finger sinking slowing into your cunt.

"carajo," he murmurs, kissing your thigh as he pumps his finger a couple times before sliding a second one in. "estás tan mojado." he whispers, watching you writhe and lean into his touch.

"more miguel." you beg, eyes wide as your fingers fist the bedsheets. "please miguel." your hips cant as his thumb rolls your clit.

miguel watches in pure delight and astonishment the way you preen into his touch. your body searches for it and follows every drag of his digits.

"that's it, amor," he coos, speeding the thrusts of his fingers as he feels the walls of your cunt clench and unclench rapidly. "let go for me, let me feel you." he whispers the words, but they course through you like commands and your body obeys every word.

your thighs shake as miguel continues to roll your clit. "fuck fuck," you cry, hands reaching to push him off you before he can overstimulate you too much.

"feel good?" he asks as he stands, body hovering yours instantly. miguel's wet fingers cup your cheek to turn your face towards him.

"so good," you praise and he grins, canine teeth baring for just a moment before he leans down to kiss you. i's sloppy and messy but you can't stop chasing his mouth. "want more."

it's the last coherent sentence you string together.

[tvgals]

plumber husband! miguel who you met seven years ago when he’d came over to fix your sink. you were a cute and impressionable 21 year old, biting your nails in anxiety of the cost.

plumber husband! miguel who only shook his head and chuckled at the sight of you, in a pair of booty shorts and a tank top. miguel watched as you poured him a glass of pink lemonade into a mug and handed it to him.

plumber husband! miguel who married you and now you get free plumbing services.

plumber husband! miguel who always gets a reward from you when he does a good job on fixing the sink or the toilet. the reward either being your pussy, mouth, or ass.

plumber husband! miguel who often breaks appliances on purpose, just so he can fix it and get his much needed reward.