welcometomyfantasyzone

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Miguel seeing assistant! Reader in a long sundress. ❤️🥰

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Dear fanfic writers, if you are writing a character that speaks Spanish, please don't use "Miel" as a pet name. Despite being the literal translation of "Honey", we only use it to refer to the food.

Here are some options:

-Cariño

-Corazón

-Amor

-Tesoro

-Hermoso/a

-Guapo/a

-Querido/a

-Mi rey/reina (my king/queen)

-Princesa(princess)

-Mi vida

-Mi alma

-Mi cielo

As you can see, some of them end in -o or -a, if it ends with -o it's male and if it's -a then female. Although it's not always the case since words like Cariño and Tesoro are gender neutral, so be careful.

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

I don't mind thirst posts about Miguel O'Hara but I hate how A LOT of people are throwing the "sexy and seductive Latino" stereotype on him in every single self insert fanfiction I see. It is getting weird specially if the people in question are white.

Not only it's bordering fetishization but it's also out of character for him to be a sexual person. This guy is an emotionally constipated asshole (similar in a Bruce Wayne way). A lovable one, but still an asshole. He's ALWAYS reluctant to show his feelings, let alone in physical affection. He's not a romantic or a flirty man.

I probably sound crazy right now but I had to get that out of my chest.

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Thoughts on Miguel having a breeding kink??

I feel like because of him being part spider he would have moments where he needs to breed you because it’s just part of his DNA, begging and asking you if he can cum inside you.

Needy Miguel who gets taken care off because he can’t control himself <333

I actually wrote a full fic based on something similar coming out later this week! but I just had a few HCs I felt I needed to share 👀👀

Miguel O'Hara Breeding kink HCs

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

summary: Breeding kink HCs + more :)

warnings: slight fdom, masturbation, breeding kink, marking, slight size kink. 18+ Minors DNI

wc: 1.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you started dating, he hid it pretty well. 

It's not a rut per se (violent flashback to my ABO phase) but his changed DNA makes him susceptible to being more animalistic. 

Before meeting you, it was less of an issue. His instincts would be more aggressive, manifesting mostly as Spiderman. 

A little more violent, proactive, and stony-faced on the streets. Sure, his libido was higher, but he could satisfy himself fine - opting for quickies in the shower. 

When he first meets you, and you grow closer he finds them getting worse. 

Hot flushes, possessiveness, and god, he's head over heels for your scent. 

The first time you sleep together, he's more forward than he usually would be. After a date, and you look stunning, he just can't think straight. 

After a couple of beers, Miguel floats down the street next to you. You've got your hand in his, click-clacking down the sidewalk in boots and those jeans that make your ass look good. He would know, of course, he's spent the past 5 minutes staring at them. 

He's ashamed to admit it, but he can't concentrate, the story you've been telling goes straight over his head. All he can see is your bubblegum pink gloss, and that perfume you've been wearing goes straight to his cock. You're beautiful , the sweetest thing he's ever had the pleasure of taking out, and all he can think of is what you'd feel like underneath him. 

He walks you up to your apartment door. When you stop outside, he can't help but put a hand on your waist and cage you against the door. 

"You look beautiful, baby." He breathes. 

Your whole face lights up, and it's all he can do to not kiss you right there. You look up. Miguel is tall, broad and handsome. His eyes are low, dangerously raking over your face and body. 

"Do you….. do you want to come in?"

~~~

You don't notice at first. You and Miguel have great sex: he's attentive, handsome, and he's got a pretty healthy appetite. 

He's into a lot of things you didn't think you'd like: marking you up with hickies and admiring you after. 

It's a possessiveness you're not used to, and it turns him on to no end. 

For that reason, he's very verbal; talking you through it just to see you blush. 

" Fuck, Miguel." 

He traces the fresh hickies he's made on your chest as you're splayed out below him. Obscenely, he slaps his dick against your clit, wet noises resounding through your bedroom. 

"Aren't you pretty, mi vida ?" He likes the way you writhe against him, hips flush against his and bucking up for some relief. He's been pawing at your pussy and whispering filthy shit in your ear; using his senses to chase every twitch and pulse of your body. 

"S'what happens when you walk around the house in those tiny shorts, baby. Hmm? Ass out, bending over like I can't see how wet you are. Like I can't taste it in the air." You whimper and he bucks into your hole, catching on your clit before stretching you out. He takes it slow, caging you in with his arms. 

He buries himself in you from the hilt. And he humps your clit, just the way you like it. He takes your hands and holds them above your head, picking up the pace. You writhe and strain, but he holds you still dragging his hips in and out of your sopping hole. Warm, wet, he moulds you to the shape of his cock: rhythmic pounding filling your ears. Your head lolls and he licks up your moans; angling his hips just right and deepening the kiss. 

" ¿Más duro? Harder, baby?" You whine in response, watching where you bodies meet intently. 

" Need your cum, Miguel ."

He cries out, his pace sloppier and less controlled. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer, impossibly deep. 

“Can I cum? Please, mami, can I cum?” 

Your answer comes in the form of a harsh tug at the nape of his neck, wrenching his lips onto yours. He stills, spurting hot, sticky cum; painting your walls white. 

~~~

Ohhh and he definitely has a size kink.

He likes to knead your body with his big hands, rubbing your thighs completely absentmindedly, after finishing. 

Aftercare is important to him, often plugging you up with his cock, or toys, or pushing his cum back in with thick fingers after spilling inside you. 

He likes multiple rounds, making sure his cum takes: he wants to see you plump and round and pretty with his baby. 

Irony is, he's not even sure if he wants kids, but the idea lights him on fire - fuels countless nights with you and nights when he strokes his cock to the thought of you. 

He becomes obsessive and a slight perv; taking your panties from the laundry to wrap around his nose, to rub against his cock when he touches himself. 

When Miguel gets like this, he is shameless, overstimulating himself to chase the perfect high.

You find him, back turned in a tight little tank top, on the bed. You heard him first, of course. The rhythmic slap and groaning that creeps into the apartment. You’ve had a long day at work, body sore and aching. The only thing you want to do is kick your heels off, and collapse into bed. And you would’ve - if not for the Miguel-shaped lump perched on the edge of your mattresses. 

You lean on the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “...didn’t know it was so soon, Miguel.”

He doesn’t even glance your way, only moaning and clutching at the sheets. You walk around for a better vantage point, to look him in the eye when he finally spills into his palm. And there, you see the deep red of a pair of panties you had put in the laundry a while back.

“Can’t help it, mi sol. You know I can’t help it.” 

"Fucking perv ." You hiss. He stops, hips jerking up. You sink down to your knees, dainty hands wrapping around his cock. All he can do is watch as you rub his length, squeezing his tip so precum pours out like a leaky shampoo bottle. 

"What were you thinking of that's got you so desperate to hump your hand?" You press a sticky kiss to his balls. 

He doesn't answer at first, too lost in the back and forth of your fingers, other hand pressing the gusset of your panties against his nose. Cruelly, you stop, and he cries out as you squeeze his tip."Asked you a question, Miguel."

"Sorry, mami. C-Can't help it. Only thinking with my cock," He whines, until you start up again. Your face is right next to his length and it is all he can do not to cum all over it. "Thinking about you. Fucking you hard. Deep. Filling you up with my cum again and again-" 

"You want to fuck a baby into me?" 

He nods desperately. "Wouldn't you look so pretty? Plump and round and waddling around with all my cum? Mine, always mine," You speed up, snaking a hand downwards to put some pressure at your clit. Ever perceptive, he notices and grabs, pulling you upwards. Like paper, he rips through the stockings, biting and soothing the bites with his tongue all over your thighs. 

"You want my tongue, first? My fingers?" 

You shake your head. "N-No, Miguel. Long day jus'.... need your cum. Fill me up. Breed me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. You help him get rid of his clothes, and strip down to your bra and panties. He looks hungry, eyes raking over the peaks and troughs if your body. You know what he's like when he gets like this; little self control, reckless abandon. He'd actually fuck a baby in you if it weren't for your birth control. So when you sink down on his length, he isn't tender or sweet, like he usually his. He's an animal , fucking up into your hole and kneading the globes of your ass apart for better purchase. 

"Give it to me, mi vida ." You clench around his thick dick, the burn and stretch of him just right. "Oh fuck, just like that. M'gonna cum, baby, straight into this cunt. Gonna fuck a baby into you, okay? Dámelo, dámelo…"

He stutters, hips flush against your clit and giving you the most delicious throb at your pussy. With a cry, he cums into, deep, as promised. He wraps his fingers in yours, holding you through your own impending orgasm. You fall through the sky, together, coming down from your high. He kisses your forehead with a lazy smile. 

"Not enough, mi vida. Gotta make sure it takes." 

_

_

_

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Heyyy i love ur writing sm, can u plz do a femdom imagine?

Ofc! Spent too long daydreaming abt this one, hope this is what you were looking for <3

Good Boy

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: sub!Miguel O'Hara x fdom!reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: I am aware that mami ≠ mommy, Mistress, etc necessarily. but Miguel uses it here as an honorific type-thing cuz I felt a bit stuck. he doesn't strike me as the mommy type but feel free to tell me I'm wrong :)

warnings: femdom, msub, restraints, light bdsm, edging, toys, fingering, mating press, lots of cum. just p0rn tbh. sorry guys. 18+ Minors DNI

wc: 1.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel looks good like this: naked on the little armchair in your bedroom, hands tied behind his back. 

The bright red ribbon isn't strong enough to actually restrain him, of course; but it turns you on to know that he could snap it in half at any time, and he chooses not to. For you. He writhes on the soft material, tip of his cock and angry red. 

Dressed in revealing scarlet lingerie, you've been edging him for almost an hour now. A little vibe caressing his tip; placing delicate kisses to his balls; running your hand up and down his thigh; you want to drive him crazy. And it works; giving him little tastes of pleasure, hints of an orgasm and he melts into the palm of your hand. 

He can't even bring himself to watch, as you kneel with a head on his thigh and look up at him through pretty lashes. Agonisingly slow, you drag the bullet vibrator up his cock, rock hard and bobbing of its own accord. With a click, you increase the intensity of the vibrations ever so slightly, watching in glee as his torso tenses and strains to keep himself from coming. 

He cries out, "Fuck, mami. A-Almost…fuck…almost came.". He bites his lip so hard you think it might bleed. 

"But you didn't, Miguel. You can hold it in a little longer, no?" You take the vibe away, watching his hips chase relief long gone. 

He let's out a little sob, before nodding desperately. "Yes, yes, anything for you."

Cruelly, you squeeze his balls with a fist. He chokes out, rushing to correct himself. "Yes, mami… m'sorry… pl-please, I'm sorry..." 

You let go, and stand up so Miguel is forced to look at you. He screws his eyes shut, desperately trying to hold on to the little self-control he has left. You both know one look could send him off the edge. 

You press a kiss to his chest, and then searing hickies to his neck and jaw. His moans, voice rumbling in his chest and you smile into the kisses. Carefully, you whisper into the shell of his ear. 

"You're such a good boy." It sends shivers down his spine. Feverishly, he whimpers and nods. "No, no, baby. Want to hear you say it. Tell me how good you are." 

"So good. I'm a good boy, all yours." His eyes are raw with tears now as he chokes back gentle sobs. You can't help but think he looks pretty - so reverent under your touch. You want to worship him, make him feel good after he's been so well behaved. 

"Do you want to cum?" You ask, tracing your nails down his chest to pinch at his nipples. He gives you a full body shiver in response. 

"Yes, mami. Need it."

You hum, tugging slightly and he arches into your touch. "How do you want it?"

You clambers onto his lap, clit grazing his tip, and Miguel collapses into your shoulder, trying not to buck into your heat.

"You want my mouth Miguel? My pussy? You want to cum on my pretty tits?" 

"Mierda. Your pussy, mami. Need it. Please."

You shift your hips up, one hand at his neck and the other guiding his cock into your sopping heat. He trembles, muscles straining with effort - trying to not buck into your hole. You reward him with a tug at the nape of his neck, sinking down his length so you sit plush and pretty against his chest. 

You rock against him with a moan and his hips snap up. You're teasing, grinding your clit - cruel, shallow thrusts that satisfy you, but leaves Miguel wanting more. He's frustrated, you can tell, cock leaking for so long your cunt glides around his length. The thought of him writhing and desperately holding back, for you, makes your pussy flutter and Miguel sees stars. 

"Cum for me, mi vida." You say softly, pressing kisses to his neck whilst he arches into your heat with a cry. He spills hot cum into you, a creamy ring blossoming his cock. Miguel’s powers have meant his stamina was second to none: and his balls pulse with sticky cum, pumping straight into your womb. It feel good; too lost in the feeling of being filled when you hear a faint snap of a flimsy ribbon. Your boyfriend rubs his wrists demurely, before taking big handfuls of your ass, grinding you down onto his cock. He’s still rock hard, without a sign of slowing down.

He lifts you up with a big palm creeping up your thighs, carrying you onto the bed easily. He places you at its foot, kneeling to watch his seed drip out of your pretty little hole. Unexpectedly, it makes you shy, wanting to hide your head in your hands at the way he’s fixated on your pussy. Miguel licks his lips, mesmerised, and pushes his cum back in with two thick fingers.

“Miggy -fuck- that’s not…”

“I want to, mami.” He says, bringing his thumb over your clit, expertly applying pressure. Your eyes roll back with the pleasure, clutching the sheets to steady yourself.

When he looks at you like that; big eyes, palming your pussy, and on his hands and knees; you can’t say no. And so you nod, weakly, putty in his capable hands. He rises, swallowing your moans with a wet kiss, and pushing you back against the sheets so you both hit the bed with a dull thump. Miguel hooks his hands under your knees, gently pushing upwards. Spreading your legs as wide as they’ll go, he throws them over his broad back; cock slipping through your folds. Pressed so close against you, he thrusts: tip kissing that sweet spot deep inside. He lights you on fire - caging you in his arms so he’s the only thing you can see, taste, touch. No-one else, ever. Just you and him.

His pace quickens with increasing staccato, short and sharp and messy with only the sound of your hearts pounding to punctuate each thrust. He snakes one if your hand above your head, intertwined with his own against the sheets. He’s lost in your touch, pressing himself impossibly closer. You feel the same - a hot, possessive, intense heat that radiates like a thousand suns - you want to crawl into his skin, melt and merge and dance as one.

Miguel babbles, feverish spanish: promises and praise that ties his tongue up into knots. “I love you, baby, t-think about this pussy all the time. Mierda, like you were made for me. Does it feel good? Just want your cum, mami, want to take care of you like you take care of me-”

“F-Fuck, Miguel,” You arch off the bed, deeper onto his dick. “Gonna cum. Cum with me please, please…”

He drives into your cunt with a stutter of his hip. Your walls clench around him, enveloping him in bliss as he spills into you for the second time that night. Sloppier, his pace slows before stilling flush against you. Sore, you drop your legs from his shoulders, shifting on the sheets to sink onto his softening cock. Miguel drags his teeth against your exposed neck, hands wandering your body. Giggling, you trace the hickies on his body with a dainty finger. 

“Good boy” You smile against his cheek. “Good boy.”

_

_

_

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Yea I’m crying. It’s fine.

The t-shirt fit— this dude is enormous. But also— DAD VIBES. That’s a d!lf.

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

𝙰/𝙽: 𝙷𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕! 𝚂𝚘𝚘𝚘...𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚙 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜! 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 @jupitersmoon167 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝...𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜? 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎? 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜. 😂

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙾' 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♡︎ 𝙲𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍/𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

♡︎ "__" 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

(𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.)

✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-:

Imagine stumbling up to Miguel’s apartment one rainy September night, injured after a fight with some mutant thugs hopped up on some sort of strength augmenting steroid.

You’re bleeding from a few lacerations, some deeper than others. Your body aches from being tossed around, and you worry that you can feel the beginnings of a mild concussion. 

It’s fairly late, but you know Miguel has always been a night owl. Besides, his apartment is much closer than yours, and you really don’t feel like patching yourself up alone. 

Slowly but surely making your way into the elevator and up to his door, you knock quietly but firmly, not wanting to be too much of a disturbance. 

You sway ever so slightly as you wait for him to answer, eventually leaning your weight on the doorframe to steady yourself. After nearly a minute and another round of knocking, the door begins to swing open.

There stands Miguel, clad in nothing but black boxer shorts and a charcoal gray t-shirt. He wears an expression of confusion on his face, presumably about who could be knocking on his door at this late hour. You hope you haven’t woken him. 

“Hey Gigi. I didn’t wake you did I?”

The man is silent for a few moments more, slowly running his eyes over your frame and taking in your haggard appearance.

Without speaking, he gently ushers you inside, shutting the door behind himself. 

“What trouble have you gotten into this time?” Miguel guides you to sit on a barstool next to his kitchen island, ensuring you won’t fall over before heading to his bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. 

“Had a rather unfortunate run in with some thugs. Seems they were on that new Lazarus that’s been making its rounds in the backstreets.” Talking leaves you a little breathless. You chalk that up to the roundhouse kick you took to the solar plexus during your fight. 

When Miguel returns his brows are furrowed. He’s clearly displeased with this news. 

“Why were you wandering about the backstreets this late at night? And alone, no less?” His lips purse as he places a cool towel to a cut on your temple. You hiss quietly at the sting the fabric leaves- he must have applied alcohol to the towel as well. 

“I wasn’t just “wandering about.” I was doing my usual patrol. I thought it would be fine since that area is usually pretty quiet around this time of night. Plus I figured the rain would deter too much movement. Guess I miscalculated.”

Miguel gestures for you to hold the towel in place as he reaches for a tube of antibiotic ointment and some gauze. 

“Let me see your hand.” Though you could tell Miguel wass still annoyed at your recklessness, his tone was much softer than normal. 

Offering him the bloodied appendage, you studied Miguel as he worked to bandage your hand. 

It wasn’t an overstatement to say Miguel was a very handsome man, even more so when he was focused. His thick brows furrowed ever so slightly, an adorable and familiar pout settling on his plump lips. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

That was the caveat though. He could certainly be a bit of a douche at times. 

You rolled your eyes fondly, smiling a little despite yourself at his low chuckle. 

He worked with skilled, careful hands to assess the rest of your external wounds and treat them accordingly. You weren’t exactly sure where he’d learned to play nurse, but in the moment you were especially thankful for it. 

“Thanks Gigi. Sorry about the trouble.”

Miguel shook his head, a small smile curling his mouth upward slightly. 

“No problem, __. But I would appreciate it if you were more careful. Or at least called for backup when you need it.”

He stood with his hands on his hips, a signature sign of his exasperation and seriousness. 

“Yes Gigi, I know. I promise to do better going forward.”

He gave you a disbelieving look, before sighing and gesturing to the guest room. 

“It’s late and you’re hurt, and it doesn’t look like this storm will be calming down anytime soon. You’re welcome to stay here for the night. I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.”

You’d be lying if you said the thought of wearing some of Miguel’s clothing didn’t bring you at least a little joy. Nodding, you stood and made your way into the guest bedroom, deciding that a quick shower would do you good. You wondered how you were going to avoid getting the bandages wet however. 

Deciding that would be a problem for later you, you yelled out to Miguel “I’m takin’ a shower” and waited for an acknowledgement from him before closing the room door and heading into the bathroom, stripping as you went.

The warm water felt so good on your aching muscles, and the steam helped clear both your head and your slightly clogged sinuses. The shower was surprisingly well stocked with all the necessities and some extra luxuries, like scrub and bath salts. Tonight though, you just focused on getting clean and getting out. 

The body wash had a little more masculine of a scent than you would have preferred, but it smelled good nonetheless and left you feeling squeaky clean, so you decided it wasn’t so bad. 

After about 10 minutes you stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in one of the Egyptian cotton towels provided for you and pausing to gaze at yourself in the mirror over the sink. 

You looked a little better, and you definitely felt better. At the moment, the thought that you didn’t have a bonnet occurred to you, but you figured Miguel’s pillow cases would be silk anyway, so the thought didn’t bother you for long. 

Reaching for the provided electric toothbrush and toothpaste, you breezed through your normal oral hygiene routine before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom. 

On the bed sat a t-shirt and some shorts, both a size or two larger than your normal fit. Finishing drying off, you slid the clothes on, savoring the heavy scent of Miguel that lingered on them. 

You didn’t know when it had started, but recently you’d been feeling more attracted to Miguel than normal. You felt silly calling these burgeoning feelings a crush, but you supposed that was the word that best described it. 

You quickly ran through a list of pros and cons related to dating him in your head, as you often did before laying down to rest. The pros always seemed to outweigh the cons, and every time you could only sigh in exasperation before forcing yourself to stop and sleep. 

‘We’re teammates, colleagues if you will. Dating him would only complicate things.’

You were preparing to tell Miguel goodnight when you heard him begin to speak. Easing towards the room door, you couldn’t help but to listen in. 

“I can’t just throw that on her right now Lyla. Not even an hour ago she showed up on my doorstep bloodied and beaten. And besides, who even knows if she feels the same way?”

“Well, she’s currently occupying your guest room Miguel. Now’s as good a time as any to go and find out.” 

“I just…I just can’t yet Lyla. Maybe eventually, but not right now.”

There was a brief silence before Lyla spoke.

“If you say so Miguel. I just hope you don’t miss your opportunity.”

‘Miss his opportunity? Feel the same way? Could Gigi…’

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, and normally you wouldn’t have even thought about eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation, but just this once, you were sort of glad you did. 

Considering it for only a moment more, you quietly opened the bedroom door, shuffling outside and down the short hallway leading back into the main room. Miguel was sat on the sofa, his large form hunched over and head resting in his hands.

“Miguel?”

His head shot up when you called, his expression morphing from one of shock to one of recognition. 

“Oh, __. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly do something so rude as to just head to bed without at least telling you goodnight.” You plopped yourself down on the couch right next to Miguel, one leg folded beneath you. 

“You ok? You looked a little stressed just a moment ago.”

Miguel nodded, leaning his upper body over his knees again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…thinking, is all.”

Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, you rubbed gently. He felt a little stiff, but there were otherwise no knots or anything of that sort to speak of. 

“If you’d like to share, I’m all ears.”

Miguel was silent for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t want to worry you. I promise, I’m fine __.”

You supposed you couldn’t force Miguel to speak if he didn’t want to, so, with a couple encouraging pats to his shoulder, you stood, turning to head back into the guest room. 

“Well, if you’re sure. I’ll be turning in. Good night!”

To your surprise, as you began to step away, you felt a tight grip around your wrist. You turned, eyes widening at Miguel’s gaze. 

His eyes, normally intense and sharp, had softened considerably, and he seemed to be saying something with them, pleading almost. 

You weren’t sure how aware he was of this, but after a moment he seemed to return to his senses, releasing your wrist and looking away quickly. 

“Sorry, __. I-...good night.”

You remained standing there a moment more, before murmuring another “good night” and quickly retreating back into the bedroom. 

Shutting the door behind you, you sheathed yourself beneath the covers. As you’d expected, everything was silk. 

After a few minutes of further contemplating Miguel’s words and his odd behavior, you decided that you’d be better able to think tomorrow when you weren’t so tired and sore. 

With that thought in mind, you shut your eyes, and soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

On the very comfortable mattress and underneath the soft covers, you slept so soundly that you didn’t notice Miguel watching you longingly through the crack in the door. 

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

𝙰/𝙽: 𝙷𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕! 𝚂𝚘𝚘𝚘...𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚙 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝙸 𝚑𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜! 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 @jupitersmoon167 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜!

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 1 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝...𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜? 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚕𝚎? 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜. 😂

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠. 𝚃𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

♡︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝙾' 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♡︎ 𝙲𝚆: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍/𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

♡︎ "__" 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎

(𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.)

✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-:

Imagine stumbling up to Miguel’s apartment one rainy September night, injured after a fight with some mutant thugs hopped up on some sort of strength augmenting steroid.

You’re bleeding from a few lacerations, some deeper than others. Your body aches from being tossed around, and you worry that you can feel the beginnings of a mild concussion. 

It’s fairly late, but you know Miguel has always been a night owl. Besides, his apartment is much closer than yours, and you really don’t feel like patching yourself up alone. 

Slowly but surely making your way into the elevator and up to his door, you knock quietly but firmly, not wanting to be too much of a disturbance. 

You sway ever so slightly as you wait for him to answer, eventually leaning your weight on the doorframe to steady yourself. After nearly a minute and another round of knocking, the door begins to swing open.

There stands Miguel, clad in nothing but black boxer shorts and a charcoal gray t-shirt. He wears an expression of confusion on his face, presumably about who could be knocking on his door at this late hour. You hope you haven’t woken him. 

“Hey Gigi. I didn’t wake you did I?”

The man is silent for a few moments more, slowly running his eyes over your frame and taking in your haggard appearance.

Without speaking, he gently ushers you inside, shutting the door behind himself. 

“What trouble have you gotten into this time?” Miguel guides you to sit on a barstool next to his kitchen island, ensuring you won’t fall over before heading to his bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. 

“Had a rather unfortunate run in with some thugs. Seems they were on that new Lazarus that’s been making its rounds in the backstreets.” Talking leaves you a little breathless. You chalk that up to the roundhouse kick you took to the solar plexus during your fight. 

When Miguel returns his brows are furrowed. He’s clearly displeased with this news. 

“Why were you wandering about the backstreets this late at night? And alone, no less?” His lips purse as he places a cool towel to a cut on your temple. You hiss quietly at the sting the fabric leaves- he must have applied alcohol to the towel as well. 

“I wasn’t just “wandering about.” I was doing my usual patrol. I thought it would be fine since that area is usually pretty quiet around this time of night. Plus I figured the rain would deter too much movement. Guess I miscalculated.”

Miguel gestures for you to hold the towel in place as he reaches for a tube of antibiotic ointment and some gauze. 

“Let me see your hand.” Though you could tell Miguel wass still annoyed at your recklessness, his tone was much softer than normal. 

Offering him the bloodied appendage, you studied Miguel as he worked to bandage your hand. 

It wasn’t an overstatement to say Miguel was a very handsome man, even more so when he was focused. His thick brows furrowed ever so slightly, an adorable and familiar pout settling on his plump lips. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

That was the caveat though. He could certainly be a bit of a douche at times. 

You rolled your eyes fondly, smiling a little despite yourself at his low chuckle. 

He worked with skilled, careful hands to assess the rest of your external wounds and treat them accordingly. You weren’t exactly sure where he’d learned to play nurse, but in the moment you were especially thankful for it. 

“Thanks Gigi. Sorry about the trouble.”

Miguel shook his head, a small smile curling his mouth upward slightly. 

“No problem, __. But I would appreciate it if you were more careful. Or at least called for backup when you need it.”

He stood with his hands on his hips, a signature sign of his exasperation and seriousness. 

“Yes Gigi, I know. I promise to do better going forward.”

He gave you a disbelieving look, before sighing and gesturing to the guest room. 

“It’s late and you’re hurt, and it doesn’t look like this storm will be calming down anytime soon. You’re welcome to stay here for the night. I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.”

You’d be lying if you said the thought of wearing some of Miguel’s clothing didn’t bring you at least a little joy. Nodding, you stood and made your way into the guest bedroom, deciding that a quick shower would do you good. You wondered how you were going to avoid getting the bandages wet however. 

Deciding that would be a problem for later you, you yelled out to Miguel “I’m takin’ a shower” and waited for an acknowledgement from him before closing the room door and heading into the bathroom, stripping as you went.

The warm water felt so good on your aching muscles, and the steam helped clear both your head and your slightly clogged sinuses. The shower was surprisingly well stocked with all the necessities and some extra luxuries, like scrub and bath salts. Tonight though, you just focused on getting clean and getting out. 

The body wash had a little more masculine of a scent than you would have preferred, but it smelled good nonetheless and left you feeling squeaky clean, so you decided it wasn’t so bad. 

After about 10 minutes you stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in one of the Egyptian cotton towels provided for you and pausing to gaze at yourself in the mirror over the sink. 

You looked a little better, and you definitely felt better. At the moment, the thought that you didn’t have a bonnet occurred to you, but you figured Miguel’s pillow cases would be silk anyway, so the thought didn’t bother you for long. 

Reaching for the provided electric toothbrush and toothpaste, you breezed through your normal oral hygiene routine before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom. 

On the bed sat a t-shirt and some shorts, both a size or two larger than your normal fit. Finishing drying off, you slid the clothes on, savoring the heavy scent of Miguel that lingered on them. 

You didn’t know when it had started, but recently you’d been feeling more attracted to Miguel than normal. You felt silly calling these burgeoning feelings a crush, but you supposed that was the word that best described it. 

You quickly ran through a list of pros and cons related to dating him in your head, as you often did before laying down to rest. The pros always seemed to outweigh the cons, and every time you could only sigh in exasperation before forcing yourself to stop and sleep. 

‘We’re teammates, colleagues if you will. Dating him would only complicate things.’

You were preparing to tell Miguel goodnight when you heard him begin to speak. Easing towards the room door, you couldn’t help but to listen in. 

“I can’t just throw that on her right now Lyla. Not even an hour ago she showed up on my doorstep bloodied and beaten. And besides, who even knows if she feels the same way?”

“Well, she’s currently occupying your guest room Miguel. Now’s as good a time as any to go and find out.” 

“I just…I just can’t yet Lyla. Maybe eventually, but not right now.”

There was a brief silence before Lyla spoke.

“If you say so Miguel. I just hope you don’t miss your opportunity.”

‘Miss his opportunity? Feel the same way? Could Gigi…’

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, and normally you wouldn’t have even thought about eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation, but just this once, you were sort of glad you did. 

Considering it for only a moment more, you quietly opened the bedroom door, shuffling outside and down the short hallway leading back into the main room. Miguel was sat on the sofa, his large form hunched over and head resting in his hands.

“Miguel?”

His head shot up when you called, his expression morphing from one of shock to one of recognition. 

“Oh, __. I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly do something so rude as to just head to bed without at least telling you goodnight.” You plopped yourself down on the couch right next to Miguel, one leg folded beneath you. 

“You ok? You looked a little stressed just a moment ago.”

Miguel nodded, leaning his upper body over his knees again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…thinking, is all.”

Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, you rubbed gently. He felt a little stiff, but there were otherwise no knots or anything of that sort to speak of. 

“If you’d like to share, I’m all ears.”

Miguel was silent for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t want to worry you. I promise, I’m fine __.”

You supposed you couldn’t force Miguel to speak if he didn’t want to, so, with a couple encouraging pats to his shoulder, you stood, turning to head back into the guest room. 

“Well, if you’re sure. I’ll be turning in. Good night!”

To your surprise, as you began to step away, you felt a tight grip around your wrist. You turned, eyes widening at Miguel’s gaze. 

His eyes, normally intense and sharp, had softened considerably, and he seemed to be saying something with them, pleading almost. 

You weren’t sure how aware he was of this, but after a moment he seemed to return to his senses, releasing your wrist and looking away quickly. 

“Sorry, __. I-...good night.”

You remained standing there a moment more, before murmuring another “good night” and quickly retreating back into the bedroom. 

Shutting the door behind you, you sheathed yourself beneath the covers. As you’d expected, everything was silk. 

After a few minutes of further contemplating Miguel’s words and his odd behavior, you decided that you’d be better able to think tomorrow when you weren’t so tired and sore. 

With that thought in mind, you shut your eyes, and soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

On the very comfortable mattress and underneath the soft covers, you slept so soundly that you didn’t notice Miguel watching you longingly through the crack in the door. 

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

ALL STATIONS STOP SPIDER-MAN!

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

I love your work so much 😭

Between Your Thighs

♡o。.✿ฺ Paring // Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

♡o。.✿ฺ Summary // Miguel loves you with his entire heart and you love taking care of Miguel.

♡o。.✿ฺ (A/n) // Inspired by “505” by Arctic Monkeys. Can’t stop, won’t stop writing for Miguel, I just can’t. Also again, requests are opening soon!!

♡o。.✿ฺ Word Count // 890

♡o。.✿ฺ Content Warnings // Gender neutral reader, mentions/description of intercourse, sexual content, receiving (male), pet names (Mi amor), swearing, dacryphilia, deep throating…

If there was one thing about Miguel that everyone knew, it would be that he was never vulnerable around anyone. Especially to those who he just met, but there was something off with you. Your kind nature towards him made him want to tear his walls down almost immediately. Even if it was going to end up as a single night, nothing more.

But he loved the way your hands trailed down his chest, the way your nails dug into his back, the way you gave every ounce of your love towards him, to a man you barely knew. It wasn’t until he popped the question while in bed that he knew he chose the right one.

And when Miguel isn’t working all day and night, he’s the embodiment of a house husband. He knows how difficult he is at times and he’s happy that you’re so patient.

He especially loves those nights where you let him relax under your touch.

Miguel’s back hit the bed, his head hitting the soft material. His lower half of his body hangs off the edge of the bed.

You watch him carefully, your hand wraps around his hard length, applying pressure from the base to his tip where your thumb pressed against lightly. Teasing and massaging his tip.

Before you could take him into your mouth, you hear him let out a groan, and his hands immediately dig into the bed sheets.

Few pumps with your hand and he moans louder when he feels your warm mouth. You bob your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his length. There were even times where you pulled away to place kisses on his thighs.

You pay attention to Miguel’s moans, hollowing your cheeks which makes him thrusts his hips.

“Amor!” Miguel hisses.

You look up to find his head thrown back, his breathing ragged and quick, you could guess that his eyes are squeezed shut.

Suddenly, you felt a hand come and grasp the back on your head, forcing you to take him deeper. He seems to forget the fact of his claws, how careful he was whenever the two of you did something like this.

But you always reassured him that you placed your trust in him.

“Please!” He begged, lifting his head and his eyes meeting yours, “Please.” He repeated, eyes watering.

The sight of him made you smile around his length. You closed your eyes, letting him control your movements and allow him to fuck your face.

Miguel lets out heavy moans as he thrusts his hips faster. You didn’t know when he sat up and both hands were holding your head.

But you enjoyed the sight of his eyes squinting, his face flushed a bright red, and he looked so beautiful in the moment that you forgot that you were gagging around his cock.

But your eyes began to water as well. As much as you tried to control it, you couldn’t stop it from falling.

Luckily he didn’t catch on or else he’d stop.

He continued until he came into your mouth. He pushed you down all the way to his base.

As you swallowed, you rose to your feet and watched Miguel catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” You ask.

His head hands low, “I should be asking you the same question.” He pants, looking up and I see his watery eyes, “I’m so-”

“I’m alright, Miguel. You didn’t hurt me.”

Then it hits him, “I could’ve-”

“But you didn’t. That proves how much control you have over them.”

Miguel lays back, “…That was amazing though.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He opens his arms and you lay in them, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Placing a kiss on his forehead, falling asleep in his arms.

Your eyes flutter open, the smell of coffee hitting your nose immediately. And at the foot of the bed, Miguel is hunched over.

“Morning.”

He smiles, leaning over to hand you a mug, “Morning.”

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I’ve suddenly got another project. Which means-”

“Another all-nighter.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head as you sip your coffee, “It’s not your fault.”

Miguel comes over to you, hugging you tightly, “I’ll make it up to you.”

You smile, “You don’t gotta, being with you is enough for me.”

You watch him get up from the bed and leave the bedroom. It wasn’t like he was leaving for work, he preferred to work at home so he had his own office. So, it was easier to check up on him.

Once you finished your coffee, you got ready for the day, showered, dressed in comfortable clothes and started fixing the bed first. Next came laundry, and the housework.

Hours later, you knocked on the door to his office, “Miguel, I brought you your food.” You heard him hum loudly, letting you enter his office.

With a plate in hand, you set it next to his hand, “Thank you, mi amor.”

“How’s the project going on so far?”

“Going great, might be done in a couple of hours.” He hums as he feels your fingers run through his hair, “Come m’ere.”

You set yourself on his lap, both of your hands in his hair, “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” He mumbles, relaxing into your touch.

“How long have you been hard?”

© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 

"I could do this all day, princesa. " 

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 

"You okay?" 

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 

He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 

"Are fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 

"Do you want to?" 

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your closed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 

" Fuck, Miguel." 

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 

You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuck you ."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 

_

_

_

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

— guiding hand. ୨୧ ꒰ miguel o'hara x f!reader ꒱

ʚ 🗯 ɞ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꓹ 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 .ᐟ 𓏧 680 wc. dom!fem!reader ( can be read as gn!reader — no pronouns or genitalia mentioned ). sub!miguel. bondage if you squint. edging. orgasm denial. begging. praise. oral ( m!receiving ). crying. reader is a sadist. mentions of " training " miggy. my horrible spanglish 🥲.

꒰ 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 ୨୧ ── hullo miggy nation , i have returned with food for yuu :3 this is short , but i do have more miggy content brewing 💭 send me your miguel thirsts !! ( please reblog mwy work if yuu enjoy it ! )

miguel was always such a hard worker. whether it be hero work or tinkering away in his lab, the man is always working. sometimes, he gets so into his work that he forgets to take care of himself. skipping meals, going hours at a time without sleep, getting frustrated and irritable.

sometimes, he needed a stern hand to guide him back into healthy habits.

that's how he ended up in this situation; on his back, arms bound tightly behind him, you lay between his spread legs. it had been hours since you'd begun your torturous teasing.

miguel was a mess — hair tousled about from all his thrashing, body slicked in sweat, heaving from yet another denied orgasm. he looked so beautiful like this.

you look up at him from where you lay, head resting on his left thigh while you lazily stroke his cock in a loose grip. his head is thrown back and his jaw is clenched. the poor thing trying so hard not to lose control.

"c - cariño, please, let me cum? seré tan bueno, i promise, please..." he begs so sweetly, now looking at you with hazy eyes. his bottom lip is red and swollen from how much he'd bitten it. you wanted to kiss him.

"do you think you deserve to cum? you've been so bad lately, miguel. maybe i should be more strict with you. it's obvious that you need better training." you drawl the last bit, fingers absently trailing around the base of his cock. he whines, the idea of being trained doing nothing to quell his need.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry, so sorry." he begins to babble, his brain slowly breaking down into a fucked out mush. you smile at his apologies knowing that you have zero intention of stopping any time soon.

raising your head from his thigh, you move your face closer to his cock, blowing on it. miguel twitches violently and you think for a moment that he might break free of his restraints. you and him both know he could easily free himself, but he never purposefully tries to. he likes how it makes him fully submit, giving you all the power.

"you're so cute, miggy." you praise before pressing a kiss to the head of his length. his breath hitches, both the praise and feather light touch adding to the mess in his mind.

without any warning, you grab the base of his cock and throat him about halfway. it's a miracle that you even manage to get it this far on your first go. miguel moans wantonly, throwing his head back violently. you hum, sending vibrations down his cock while holding him in your mouth.

you pull off his cock with a pop a few seconds later. licking the mix of spit and pre of your lips, you lean in once more, tongue beginning to prod at his glans. a high, whiney mewl comes from the man beneath you. as you lick the head, your hand begins to slowly stroke the rest of his cock.

miguel is a mess of broken moans and whines, babbling in a mix of spanish and english that you can't quite follow. his voice is hoarse from how loud he's been.

you drag your tongue down along the side of his cock, your fingers returning to tease his glans. he starts violently trembling beneath your ministrations. he's close. you continue touching him, dragging him to the very edge.

"f - fuck, tan cerca, need it, need-!" he's cut off by his own sob when you suddenly completely pull away. his body curls to the side, shaking and tensing. you watch him as he begins full-blown crying, needing to resist the urge to comfort him. he knows his safeword if he needs to stop.

"oh, you poor thing." you pout condescendingly. grabbing his hips, you push him back down into his previous position. "perdóname, perdóname, perdóname..." he's looking off into space, somewhere far away.

"forgive you? this is forgiveness, miggy. you've been so naughty, but don't worry. i'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

　 　 　 　 　 ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪

© 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒖𝒓 ｡

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

LORD THIS WAS AMAZING 😍

Miguel O’Hara x spider-person!reader

Summary: Reader returns to the web of life after a run in with another spider person. Miguel of course isn’t too happy to hear about them interfering with other dimensions.

Warnings: smut- slutty smut | Miguel using his fangs and Talons to tease | Backshots? 🫶 | A little degrading | Choking | Kinda fluffy ig? | Miguel might be outta character but whatever

She gulped, hands fiddling with one another as she walked through the twisting cavern where all of the other spider people resided. She knew she had screwed up, but she wasn’t about to let someone punch her and get away with it. Even if it may or may not have screwed up a timeline or two. Typically she’d find a way to avoid such a thing, or at least fix it. But this time, he had found out before she could do anything.

It’s not as though she didn’t like Miguel. In fact, the two had flirted once or twice. But it would seem their little fling was merely that. A fling. Which is why she was expecting a harsh lecture from the man.

She entered the lab he stayed in, the bright red, blue, and yellow lights beginning to overstimulate her eyes. Yet the large dark figure standing amongst it all is what kept her attention. “How many times do I have tell you?—“ He turned around, the lenses of his mask narrowing as he glared down at her. “You don’t go off without back up. Now you’ve gone and messed everything up Y/N.” He wasn’t wrong, and she knew it. That was why his words irritated her so. Her brows knitted, her twisting into a frown as she spoke up.

“You go out without backup all of the time Miguel. So how is this any different.” Her snarky comment seemed to do something to the Spider-Man, because he now found himself curling his hands open and closed as he inches closer to her. “Is that your excuse Y/N?” His curt response didn’t come as any shock to her, and all she could seem to do was shake her head and cross her arms. “That’s what I thought.”

That little comment only added more fuel to the fire. Her eyes narrowed beneath her mask, her arms unfolding as she turned around and began to walk away. She wouldn’t listen to his idiotic comments. Not today. Instead she attempted to excuse herself before she said anything she would regret. Although it would seem to be too late for that. In an instant she found her body being pushed against a cluttered desk, her cheek smushed against the cool metal. Her wrists were pinned beside her head, large firm hands grasping each. “Miggy— what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m getting sick of that attitude Y/N. Always rolling your eyes and making stupid jokes.” She jolted, the soft graze of a needle drawing her attention. Except, it wasn’t a needle. It was the small talons on his finger tips gently pricking at her suit. The odd feeling brought an even odder feeling within her stomach. And soon she found herself trying to look back at Miguel who was currently teasing at her shoulder blades with his fangs. They were sharp and prickled her back in just the right way. “Miggy..” She sputtered as her back arched, hips curving up in an attempt to get even the tiniest bit of friction. “Sit still.” Was all she received.

His hands traveled down her body, slowly trailing down her back, following the slight curve of her spine until finally his hands remained firm on her ass. His thumbs grazed over her bottom, squeezing and fondling as his kisses along her back trailed down. “Oh crap—“ Cool air slipped into her suit as the crotch area was torn through the middle and something warm intruded. Miguel’s finger rubbed circles around her sensitive area, the soft fabric of her panties drawing a chuckle from him. “So quick with comebacks, and now you’re wiggling your hips for me like a slut. How cute.” The sarcasm in his voice almost made her tell him to shut up, but his tongue interrupted before she could get another word out. The warmth of his tongue felt unfamiliar, as did the resounding slap that echoed through the place. Her ass stung, a whine leaving her as his thumb rubbed circles around the stricken area. “You’ll be fine.” He grumbled before he began to lap at her cunt. His tongue worked at her clit, licking and slurping lazily. And while he wasn’t even trying, she found herself humming softly at his touch. He continued to lap at her while using his hands to keep her in place. “Damnit wait-“

For once Miguel actually listened. His tongue no longer pressed pleasantly against her body, and he instead stood from his knees. “I didn’t mean literally- I just-“

Smack

A yelp of surprise bounced off the walls, her head lifting as Miguel’s hand remained stuck to her behind. A small smile was on his lips, the lenses of his mask narrowing ever so slightly. She knew that look. Miguel lifted one of her legs, hoisting it onto the table so that one leg was up and the other supported her. The bottom half of his suit was pushed down to his upper thighs, his happy trail peeking beneath the upper half of his suit. His meaty thighs flexed as he moved himself closer, and that’s when she felt the soft tip of his cock. It rutted against the side of her thigh, precum sticking to her skin as his hands found the small of her back. “Keep your legs spread like that. It might be a tight fit.”

-

“Miggy please! I can’t-“ Papers that had previously been on the metal desk were low strewn about, littering the floor. Her cheek was pressed against the desk, Miguel’s hand tangling in her hair as his heavy thrusts drew a moan from her each time. She could hear his hot breaths, and feel the way his abs flexed against her back as he leaned against her. Miguel’s fangs pricked at the top of her ear, his harsh pants making her clit throb. His hand that wasn’t occupied with her hair came down to squeeze at her curves, just as her pretty cunt squeezed perfectly at his cock. She gushed around him, squelches filling the room as he continued to pound into her.

Miguel was growing rougher, needier. He slipped his cock out and lifted her from the desk. Her feet met the floor, shaky and uneasy. “Spread your legs a little more. I won’t fit if you don’t.” He demanded as he kicked her legs apart a bit more. His hands returned to her body, one finding her neck while the other rested on her lower abdomen. “God, I was hoping you’d act like a bitch so I could’ve fucked that attitude out of you..but seeing how you melt for me..” His cock slipped back in, his hand trailing down from her stomach to her clit. He gave it the occasional rub, synchronizing it with every thrust. The act only drew more moans from her, her head lulling back onto his chest. “If you keep groaning like that I might cum mi amor..” His words, while a warning, only lured her in. She began to roll her hips as best she could, the friction causing Miguel’s breath to hitch. “Fuck you’re really are my slut huh? Cmere.”

His hips fucked into hers, the resounding slaps of skin being drowned out by their moans and groans. His cock throbbed inside of her as her orgasm caused her to tighten up. “Oh crap miggy…” She cursed under her breath. “Yeah I know baby..” He responded as his lips found hers, a slow sensual kiss ensuing. His finger swirled at her clit as he slipped his cock out, now fucking her thighs instead. The combined stimulation had her hunching over, her legs shaking as her orgasm crashed over her. “Y/N you’re spilling all over..fuck me.” Miguel groaned out, his head falling back as he bit back a moan. With his jaw clenched tight and sweat sheening his forehead, he came. Spurts of white decorated the messy desk, along with Y/Ns spider suit.

“Well fuck..if I would’ve known that was all it took to get you to fuck me then damn..” She chuckled breathily, her hands grasping at the desk as she attempted to steady herself.

“Shush, don’t ruin the moment..” Miguel placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, a groan leaving him as he wrapped his arms around her torso. “You’re still in trouble.”

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

miguel o'hara has an absolute dump truck of an ass && his recoil is insane.

no, i will not be elaborating. 🙏🏽

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

I enjoyed your miggy headcanons 🤭 may I request a sub! miguel with a mommy kink 🫣

anon, you're mind is exquisite ... miggy with a mommy kink would be so !!! ( > < ) ♡♡♡

it's strange yet gratifying to have such a big man reduced to a whimpering mess in your hands. the sweet whines of "mama" && "mommy" would encourage to continue your slow torture ...

edging miggy for hours, his poor cock weeping with the need to cum. "m - mommy, fuck ..." he's cut off by his own groan when your hand twists firmly around the head of his cock. "hmm? what's wrong, baby? what do you need?" you know exactly what he needs, but you can't help the sadistic urge to make him say it.

"n - need to cum, mama, pleasepleaseplease .. !" he's trembling, hips desperately aching to thrust up into your firm grip. his eyes are squeezed shut and you can see tears clinging to lashes.

"oh, miggy ..." you sigh, teasingly dragging your nails along the side of his cock. he let's out a sound between a moan and growl. his abs are tense with the strain of so many denied orgasms.

"mommy thinks you can wait a little longer, yeah?"

( brewing up ideas for a full length fic with this concept ... send your suggestions 💭 )

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 🤭🤭🤭

THIS WAS GOOD

Touch (Part 2)

Miguel O'Hara x reader

GIF by milesmoralespilled

(AO3 Mirror), Part 1, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel tries to win you over. It doesn't go as planned.

warnings: pwp!!, light f-dom, praise kink, fem receiving oral, slight m-sub, lots and lots of begging. Miguel is a switchy mess bc i said so. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I am so normal about him!

wc: 2.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You avoid him like the plague. 

The next day, he wakes up to an empty house with you leaving for work earlier than usual. He traipses around the apartment, looking for you before he realises he is chasing your ghost: the traces of scent left on sheets. And he is shameless when he walks into your shared bedroom, rolling around in your heady perfume and pressing the rumpled bedsheets to his nose. Aching, always. 

His own work takes him out of the apartment for most of the day, but he makes a point to slip away early. Little things, mostly: the bodega down the street for your favourite noodles, fresh lilies from a florist on the way, and some chocolate and sweet things to say sorry. He sets up in the kitchen, putting the flowers in water; hands flying on the chopping board to make dinner in time for when you come home. 

Miguel is a careful man; very particular about the way he lives his life. As such, he hunkers down a plan to apologise, showering you with affection and attention to make up for the past few weeks. He wants to be home when you get back, welcoming and warm before he slips out for his… night shift. His other job, that you are just as important as, a fact he wants you to remember.

He can hear you a couple floors down, the tell-tale click of your heels down the corridor and into the elevator. He scrambles to the front room, lounging on the sofa but ready to take your coat off and ask about your day. To go through the routine you had before all the late nights and lonely evenings. 

"Evening, mi vida." He looks expectantly towards you as you walk in. "How was work?" 

You kick off your shoes and breeze into the bedroom - without so much of a glance at him. Deflating, he watches as you shut the door behind you. Miguel sinks into the sofa cushions, sighing in frustration. 

~~~

And it stays like that for the next couple of days: you make it a point to ignore him. Short curt responses after work; Yes Miguel, No Miguel, I put it on the counter, Miguel. He misses the pout of your lips, the pet names, hell, he'd take it if you shouted and screamed at him to take the edge off. Nary a Miggy in sight. You give him nothing. 

Ever perceptive, he notices the little things. You still make his lunch when you can, and leave out food for him when he has a late night and forgets to eat. Small, gentle reminders that you care for him. Not that he ever doubted it, of course. 

When he clambers in through the back window, the one you always leave open for him, it's late. He clutches his side, groaning at a nasty bruise at his ribs. His mask comes off in the dim light, and he rubs his temples. Sore and exhausted, he pads through to the kitchen. 

Despite the lack of adrenaline, his senses are perfectly attuned. He smells it first: the sticky scent of arousal, so fresh he can taste it in the air. There's rustling, and as he pads closer to the bedroom door, he is almost bowled over by the obscene sounds of your fingers buried in your cunt. The door is slightly ajar, and he watches you on silk sheets with the light of the moon spilling onto your frame. One hand clamped over your mouth, the other curling into your pussy, and your eyes screwed tightly shut. His legs weaken at the knees when he realises you're in one of his sweatshirts, desperately humping your hand for release. 

For the past week, you've barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. He's reminded of that when his cock throbs in his suit. He palms himself absentmindedly, the heel of his hand providing juust the right amount of pressure, before catching himself. He feels like a pervert, watching you get off like this, desperate to bury his tongue between your thighs. Space, you need space, and he is trying his hardest to give it to you. Shaking his head, he tears himself away. 

Until he hears a heart-wrenching moan erupt from beyond the door, that is. You curse quietly, Spanish swear words you've clearly heard from Miguel. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry when you quicken your pace - trying to chase that high. You're frustrated, he can tell, removing the hand at your mouth to squeeze your tits through his sweatshirt. 

With a flash of pink tongue, he wets his lips and gently opens the door wider, leaning on its door frame. You are too occupied to notice him watching, hand on his cock through his suit. And he just waits for a moment, eyes hungry as he matches your speed when he rubs himself through the fabric. Your hips arch slightly, making his cock jump. 

"Mierda, baby." He breathes and your eyes snap open, as you remove your hand with a hiss. 

Miguel stands at your door, windswept hair, beautifully flushed and ruined - all from just watching. He continues to palm himself shamelessly, never breaking eye contact. 

"S'not enough, is it?" He says, shakily. 

He's right and you know it. You can't cum, no matter how hard you try, because it's not the same. Not the same as your boyfriend's long fingers and thick cock pounding into you, persistent. 

He stalks closer and repeats himself. "Not enough for my princesa, hmm?" 

You groan, covering your face. "Miguel-"

"-fuck off, I know, I know." He sinks to his knees in front of you, by your side of the bed. "Let me help you, mi vida."

You hesitate. He looks gorgeous in the half light: hair tousled, looking up at you through heavy eyes. Despite your better judgment, you get closer, legs spread and hanging off the edge of your bed. 

"You want me to beg? Because I will, princesa, I will. Te quiero tan desesperadamente, tan malo. I need you so much it hurts. Look, please," He reaches over to paw at your thighs with big, gloved hands. The scent of your cum is overpowering this close - heady and addictive with his enhanced senses. 

"...l-look at what you do to me. Turn me into a mess, can't think about anything else. Solo a ti, princesa. Only you." 

You card your fingers in his hair and he is reverent. Migeul babbles in broken English like a madman, barely taking a breath. You feel the familiar heat of arousal in your gut. He's making you wet, without even trying. 

Cruelly, you jerk his head into your pussy, and he laps you open with a ready tongue. He moans into it, sucking at your clit and lips as you hump his face. His own hips cant at the same pace you've set, rubbing his tented lower half onto the bed frame for some relief. 

Slobbering and messy, he moans into your cunt - hands on your ass to push you further onto his face. He's eating you out like a man starved - and the noises he makes are pornographic. You squeeze your thighs around his head, and he almost cums right then, his hips bucking dramatically upwards with a groan. Watching him unravel is too much to bear, and so you tug at his hair, separated with a wet pop. Head tilted slightly back, chin and mouth glistening with your wetness, he flashes his fangs at you with a lazy grin. You're both panting, breathless from the carnality of it all. 

You clench around nothing; so, so close. 

He wipes his slick mouth with a forearm, before placing his head by your knees. 

"Look how pretty you are, mi sol." He slaps your pussy, watching it pulse in response. "So wet. Is this all for me?" 

Hesitantly, you bite your lip and nod. Miguel rubs circles into the meat of your thigh, sucking hickies into the skin. 

"I can make you feel so good," He whispers into your skin - so tender it makes you shiver. "I just want to make you feel good. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Sé que soy tuyo para siempre, mi niña hermosa. I'm yours… fuck… I-I'm yours…"

You won't be able to wrench him from your cunt; you know that much. When he gets like this, delirious from the heat of your two bodies together in the low light, he turns into something else entirely. Maybe it's to do with his changed DNA, something more than human at the crook of his chest - animalistic and primal. 

You cradle his cheek, so he's forced to look up at you. 

"I want you in me, Miggy. Want it to hurt."

His eyes flutter shut as he nods frantically, moving to stand up. You help him out of his suit, snug around his crotch until his cock springs free. His tip is an angry red and weeping so much precum it spills onto the sheets. His frame is delicious; broad shoulders and strong arms, stocky with the muscle of his thighs and solid middle. Miguel is beautifully tan, with the prettiest cock you think you've ever seen. Long, thick, and curved to the side. You've dreamt about the way he hits your spongy walls in all the right places. 

He helps you out of his sweatshirt, with expert fingers. He practically drools at the swell of your tits, kneading them with one palm as he clambers over you. There's a content sigh as he rubs his cock, sticky with precum, over your slit; head back and hips moving like water. He pulls a moan out of you when he finally - finally - fills you up in one swift movement. 

"Mierda, baby, does that feel good?" He croons, rubbing slow circles into your clit. His answer comes when you clench around his cock, creating a creamy ring around its base. He crouches to nip at your skin with his fangs, rolling his hips into yours. 

He knows your body better than you do, and it feels good. You claw at his back in pleasure, babbling his name into the crook of his neck. But it's not enough. It's like he knows when you're on the edge, about to come, slowing his hips until they simply grind on your clit, rutting against you. It's cruel, and it causes tears well up in your eyes. 

"F-Faster. Please." He just keeps grunting, barely speeding up. A slow, steady, relentless pace, picking up his hips until his cock is almost out of your hole, before filling you in one firm movement. 

He keeps going, and going, until your hips shake and your bodies heave with the effort. His back is red and raw with scratches as your pleas fall on deaf ears. 

"Harder, Miguel. Please, baby, I need it. F-Faster. Want it to hurt." You sob softly, drunk on pleasure.

He kisses up the tears that fall. "I know, mi vida. But it's not what you need right now, hmm?" 

He whispers soft praises into your tits, your collarbone, the fat of your cheeks. Anywhere and everywhere that needs it: so he can tell you how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. He swallows up your moans with his lips on yours, sending you over the edge. That tight string at your gut snaps, and you cum so hard you see stars. 

He doesn't stop, picking up the pace in the aftershock of your spasms. You can tell he's trying hard not to follow, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. When your orgasm subsides, he pulls out with a shaky moan. 

"One more, f'me, baby. Una más para mí, just one more." 

You hum into his kiss, and he hooks his hands under your knees. Placing your legs over his shoulders, he sinks back into you with a satisfied grunt. Now, he pounds into you - the slap-slap of your ass against his hips resounding in your little bedroom. You make a mess, creamy cum spilling where your bodies connect. You force him deeper, harder, with a hand on his neck. 

"M'close, Miggy." You tug the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

"Good girl, good fucking girl." His hips stutter when he feels you clench at his words. "I want to cum with you, princesa. Can I cum? Please, baby, c-can I cum?" 

Gently nodding, you wrap a hand around his throat and pull him in for a kiss - so consuming and heady it makes you want to sink into his skin. You clamp down on his cock, and his pace slurs; before Miguel spills his warm cum deep into your cunt. His hips still, and he curls into you, deepening the kiss. 

Exhausted, you separate, side by side. Still sticky with his cum, he wraps you up in his arms, pressing shaky kisses to your temple. 

"I love you." He says, gently. 

"Doesn't feel like it, sometimes." You breathe. 

You both lay there, completely still. He furrows his brow, terse with the words he wants to say but can't. All he can do is pull you closer, and envelope you in the warmth of his skin. 

"Miggy?" You say after a while. 

He hums. 

"I love you too." 

_

_

_

[welcometomyfantasyzone]

──miguel o'hara nsfw headcanons. ୨୧

ʚ 🗯 ɞ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꓹ 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 .ᐟ 𓏧 463 wc. afab!reader. sub!miguel. soft, service!dom miguel. praise. marking ( bites , hickies ). mild possessive behavior. oral ( r!receiving ). size k. titty sucking. face sitting. breeding k. fingering. daddy k.

꒰ 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒚 ୨୧ ── goshhh .. 'm soso in love with this man !!! the obsession has been rotting mye brain u_u submissive miggy , my beloved 💭🐑 send asks to fuel mye insane obsession ( > < 🦑 ) 〜 ♡ ( please reblog mwy work if yuu enjoy it ! )

𔘓 miguel is a surprisingly submissive. he folds instantly the moment you show any hint of dominance. the man is so eager to please, so eager to be good and give you anything you want.

𔘓 he makes sure you're constantly marked up. hickies and bites constantly litter your neck. very rarely do you leave the house without his possessive claim.

𔘓 miguel is a pussy eating champ. he eats you out like a man starved, growling and humping the bed while devouring your sopping cunt. he's messy about it too ; slobbering and spitting. if he could, he'd definitely eat you out 24/7.

𔘓 when he is more dominant, he's more of a soft service dom. he's not one for degrading you, instead getting off on praising every little thing about you. he'll fuck you hard while mumbling how much he loves you, how pretty and perfect you are. sometimes in english, sometimes in spanish.

𔘓 he's an absolute sucker for your size difference, especially if you're significantly smaller than him. loves gently manhandling you, moving your body into all sorts of positions.

𔘓 major titty sucker. small titties? big titties? doesn't matter, miguel is gonna suck on them.

𔘓 he has a preference for slow, passionate sex. holding you close, grinding into you, kissing you and telling you just how precious you are to him.

𔘓 sit. on. his. face. suffocate him, ride his face with no care for his ability to breathe. he wants to be absolutely smothered by your throbbing cunt.

𔘓 you already know this man is packing. both long and thick, pretty veins all over. he has quite thick hair down there, but he keeps it neatly trimmed.

𔘓 miguel cums like crazy and loves cumming inside of you. you're always left dripping his release from your puffy, used cunt.

𔘓 he loves to finger you. he could spend hours with you sat between his legs, fingering you through multiple orgasms. miguel really likes to thoroughly stretch you around his fingers before he fucks you.

𔘓 praise him !!! it makes his eyes flutter and gets him so needy for you. he'd really do anything just for a second of praise.

𔘓 pull his hair and you'll have him seeing stars. pull it while he eats you out or while riding him and he'll cum almost instantly.

𔘓 he has a major daddy kink. he goes absolutely feral whenever you call him it. whether it be during sex or in an everyday setting, it never fails to get the man thrumming with the desire to breed you.

𔘓 miguel can be pretty vocal. growls and groans ; sometimes moans, whines, and whimpers when he's really worked up. he makes sure you know just how good you're making him feel.

　 　 　 　 　 ֪٘ ︶ ͝ ٘⏝𖹭⏝ ͝ ٘︶٘ ֪

© 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒖𝒓 ｡