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delreykenn-punk · 10 months

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Death by Flirting

Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary: Five times you made Joel blush, and when he finally did it back to you.

Warnings: Fluff, idiots in love. Soft!joel, flustered!joel, minor head injuries and blood, (Not super graphic), mentions of social anxiety, joel is a bit of a tease in a fun and fluffy kind of way. Smut, unprotected PIV, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of y/n. I did my best to be inclusive of all skin tones knowing not everybody blushes, if you have any pointers help me out!

W/C: 8.1k (FUCK i went overboard!)

A/N: For @pedrostories 1k celebration! This story gave me a lot of trouble, but I am very proud to have finished it. As always, thanks to @speckledemerald for proofreading with me :)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment/reblog if you enjoyed! I eat it up!!

The first time it happened was during a game of Scrabble.

You and Joel were stuck inside your shared home on a lazy Saturday. The leaves were beginning to turn red and brown, it was a cloudy gray day. Not much to do except silly word games.

You pulled the weathered box from the collection of board games you, Joel, and Ellie shared. The colors were faded and the cardboard was deteriorating. The original velvet bag holding the wooden letters was long gone, replaced with a crumpled paper bag. But it did just fine.

You set the game on the table, then made two cups of coffee. You brought one to Joel.

“I set Scrabble up. Want to join me?” you asked him. He looked bored today, you could tell by the way he was anxiously tapping his fingers on his knee. He was rereading a book he’d read numerous times before. “I made you coffee.”

Joel set the book down and took the mug of coffee from your hands, his calloused fingers brushing over yours. “Just to get my ass kicked again?” he questioned you.

It was true. Joel was not the best at word games, Ellie frequently beat him at Boggle and Scrabble. She’d rub it in every time she won, never relenting on reminding Joel of the fact she beat him.

“Just you and me. I’ll go easy on you, hm?”

Joel nodded, sitting up from his chair and walking with you to the table. He took his spot and you followed, pulling out seven letters each for you and Joel. Joel started, his first word being ‘SALT’.

“Four points,” you muttered, writing down his score. The actual scorecard was long gone, so you and Ellie made your own with a yellow legal pad. Then you pulled four more letters for Joel and played your own word. ‘STYLE’, with the Y landing on a triple letter box. 16 points, you wrote on the yellow paper. Joel sighed and shook his head, knowing he was already screwed.

You played back and forth, the only sounds in the room being your pencil writing down scores and the soft clicks of the wooden tiles. You caught a glance of Joel, his brows furrowed together as he rearranged the tiles in front of him, his cheek smushed by his fist as he used it to rest his head. His peppery hair was slightly longer than he usually kept it, curling up at the ends and flying every which way. His dark brown eyes sparkled, his aquiline nose scrunched when he’d make a bad move or you’d make an especially good one. His flannel sleeves were rolled up, exposing his thick and masculine forearms.

He was absolutely gorgeous. Of course, he was the same plain old Joel you always knew. But sometime in the past year or two, something shifted in the way you viewed him. You’d find yourself staring at him for long periods of time, images of his smile and his broad shoulders poisoned your mind during the day. Maybe you had a little crush on him.

“Joel?” you asked shakily, unsure if the idea you were conjuring in your head was a good one.

“What’s up?”

“You just look really nice today,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

“Hm?” Joel tapped his right ear, reminding you that he didn’t hear too well.

“I think you’re hand–you look handsome today,” you stuttered, wincing at your slight word mishap.

Joel just looked at you, mouth agape and his eyes wide. “Uh, mm,” he stammered, roses blooming on his neck and cheeks. Then he cleared his throat, looking down at his letters to hide his flustered expression. “You think I’m handsome?”

You smiled warmly. “Yeah, I do,”

Joel said nothing, you watched the gears turn in his head as he tried to process your very out of the blue compliment. He lay down three letters on the board, spelling ‘BAT’. “Thanks,” he finally whispered.

You smiled to yourself again, amused at the way you so easily made him speechless. He was still beet red, looking everywhere in the room except your face to avoid your eyes. You placed your letters on the board, using the B from Joel’s last play.

‘BLUSHING’ 51 points, thanks to a double letter and triple word.

When Joel read the word, his face flushed even harder. You giggled, watching him squirm at the way you so cleverly had called him out.

You knew then you had struck gold.

The second time was about a week later while on patrol. You decided to flirt with Joel again, being so pleased by his reaction last week. Confident and cocky Joel, turned speechless and flustered by you? It was endlessly more satisfying than winning a game of Scrabble against him any day of the week.

You were holed up in a safe house, both you and Joel scrounging around for anything you could find useful. You found yourself in what you assumed to be a teenage girl’s old bedroom, reading all about her life in her twenty year old diary. Her name was Sophia, she had a crush on a guy named Josh, and he asked her to the homecoming dance during fourth period English class last week. She and her best friend Alyssa went dress shopping together, settling on a simple maroon gown. They stole bras and panties from Victoria’s Secret together too, and picked out new body sprays and lip glosses from Bath and Body Works. Alyssa liked Cucumber Melon, Sophia liked Sun Ripened Raspberry.

As you read through Sophia’s life, her first kiss with Josh at the dance and the fight with her mom from Tuesday night, Joel explored the master bedroom. In the ensuite bathroom were a few sticks of deodorant he stole, a couple of tubes of toothpaste as well. He was about to leave when a dark blue glass bottle caught his eye.

He grabbed the bottle, recognizing it as a cologne he used to wear. He loved the scent, forgetting about it completely until now. When he brought the bottle to his nose to smell, countless memories came flooding back to him. He wore the cologne on his daddy-daughter dates with Sarah, when he was a chaperone for her middle school dance. When he was the best man at his old buddy’s wedding, he wore that cologne too. It made him feel confident and handsome. He sprayed a bit on his wrists and neck before carefully placing the bottle in his pack.

He left the bathroom, taking careful steps as he examined the bedroom, frozen in time. The eggplant bedding made neatly over the king sized bed, the dark wooden his and hers dressers. A layer of dust covered the dressers, the mirrors, and a jewelry box on what he assumed was the wife’s dresser. He opened it slowly, the jewelry inside perfectly preserved over the past twenty years. The first compartment was for rings and earrings, the next being bracelets. The last compartment Joel looked at was larger, necklaces hanging from hooks at the top of the jewelry box. As Joel fingered through the necklaces and their pendants, a thin gold chain caught his eye. There was no big pendant, just a dainty diamond attached to the chain. It was so simple, yet so beautiful. Just like you, Joel thought.

Carefully, he pulled the necklace off the hook and wrapped it in a cloth, putting the necklace away in his inner jacket pocket, saving it for later. When the time is right.

Joel left the master bedroom and found you in the girl’s room, still reading her diary.

“Whatcha reading?” he asked you, taking steps closer to where you were sitting on the bed. You looked beautiful today, he thought. He considered giving you the necklace for a moment before deciding against it, his own insecurity getting in the way.

“I’m reading about Sophia,” you said, thumbing through a few more pages before closing the diary. “She just had her first kiss with a boy named Josh from her English class.”

Joel just nodded. Sarah had a crush on a boy named Josh too, he remembered. Joel and Tommy would tease her about it constantly, chuckling together when she’d go bright red and scream about how much she hates them. How they’re ruining her life, true to classic fourteen year old girl dramatics.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“Yeah, gotta get back for dinner. You ready?”

You nodded, placing the diary back where you found it on the desk, a quiet goodbye to Sophia.

Joel led you through the door and out of the house, helping you up on the horse. You scooted your body back, allowing Joel to sit in front of you on the horse’s back. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he led the horse back to Jackson, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He tried to ignore the way your touch ignited a fire on his skin, an eruption of butterflies deep in his tummy. He didn’t even know he could still feel butterflies.

Joel always smelled nice, he had a nice natural scent to himself. But he smelled extra good today you noticed, as you caught a whiff of his cologne. You couldn’t help yourself. You inhaled deeper, savoring the woody, deep scent of his cologne.

“Are you…sniffing me?” Joel asked, cocking his head to the side. He almost forgot about his sneaky spritzing from the bathroom.

“You smell fucking delicious today,” you admitted shamelessly, smelling him again.

“Yeah?”

You thought a moment before answering, remembering your goal from earlier. “Mhm. Good enough to eat,”

Bold, even for you.

Joel stiffened against you, you could practically feel the heat rising to his cheeks, that familiar shade of crimson painting his face. Mission accomplished.

What you didn’t see, however, was the way he pinned his bottom lip under his teeth to hide his smile at your words. How he fought to keep the butterflies dancing in his tummy at bay, fearing if he indulged too deep in the way you flattered him he’d fall right off the horse.

The third time you made Joel blush, it was actually an accident. Honestly.

You had brought home a few new candles your friend Mary had made for you. They were sweet and honey scented, you couldn’t wait to burn them.

“Joel, do you have a lighter?” you called upstairs, setting the candles on the coffee table at the center of the living room.

“Not on me,” he responded. “Check the drawer in the kitchen?”

So you did. It was littered with rubber bands, pens and pencils, crayons, half-used sketchbooks from Ellie.

“Find it?” Joel’s voice called as he stomped down the steps, his hair wet and slicked back from his shower.

“No,” you replied, still rifling through the various odds and ends of the junk drawer. Joel nudged you out of the way with his hip, and you took a step back as he pulled out a box of matches.

“Here,” he held the box out to you.

“Those are matches,” you pointed out, a cocky smile on your face, “I asked for a lighter.”

“Fire is fire,” he replied, and you took the box. Your fingers brushed his own which startled you, and you dropped the box, sending matches everywhere.

Joel, ever the gentleman, didn’t miss a beat as he crouched down to clean up your mess. It wasn’t lost on him why you dropped the matches, he caught the way you stared at him. Your eyes wide, tracing his face and body.

For a moment as he swiftly gathered the matches, he thought about teasing you back. Flirting with you, making you blush the way you did to him. “You know,” he started, a playful tone in his voice. He was about to finish his sentence as he stood up and BAM!

Joel hit his head just on the corner of the open drawer, knocking the drawer out of place and on top of him. Pencils, crayons, and everything else went flying everywhere and you gasped, immediately crouching down to meet Joel.

“Jesus, FUCK!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his head and groaning when he saw his blood on his hand. “God bless it,” he continued, his eyes screwed shut as he tried to ignore the throbbing pain at his temple.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you assured him, kicking pencils and such away. You wrapped your hands around his free arm and helped him up, guiding him to sit on the couch. He tilted his head back and you scrambled to the kitchen, pulling a clean rag from a cabinet and soaking one end of it under running water.

You scurried back to meet Joel at the couch, where the side of his face was dripping in blood and his eyes were still closed. He was whispering to himself, groaning in pain.

You wiped away his blood then pressed the dry end of the rag to his wound, holding it there for about a minute to stop the bleeding. Joel was breathing heavily, chest rapidly rising up and down as he focused on calming down. You lifted the rag slightly, his wound still bleeding. After another two minutes you checked again, and the bleeding would not let up. Your arm was getting tired.

Not even thinking, you straddled Joel’s lap and rested your arm on his shoulder as you adjusted the rag, pressing firmly into his temple.

Joel opened his eyes slowly, confusion painting his face as he took in the situation. You, straddling his lap and tending to his wounds, like it was the most casual thing in the world. You didn’t even register the potentially sexual nature of the position, you were just focused on stopping Joel’s head from bleeding into the couch.

Joel, however, was acutely aware of the tension. The heat radiating from your body, the soft and warm exhales from your nose kissing his own. Your breasts pressing into his chest slightly. He tried to stop his mind from wandering south, but he couldn’t help but wonder how they’d look and feel without the bothersome layers of fabric separating your–

Shit.

You wiggled your hips slightly against him, getting closer as you’d repeat your series of actions. Press the cloth to his head, pull it away. Adjust so that a new, cleaner area of the cloth was pressing into his skin. You wiggled again subconsciously.

Shitshitshitshitshit, is all Joel could think as he felt blood rush to his groin at your wiggling. He shifted slightly, hoping to hide his growing erection from where you were pressed so tightly against him.

“Joel,” you scolded. You wiggled against him again, then felt his strong hands grab ahold of your hips, pressing into your skin firmly. Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Please stop squirmin’,” he said slowly, his voice dark and serious.

“Joel, I’m trying to-”

Oh.

You felt his hardness poking at your center, and there was his blush for the third time. Joel was red, one of his hands covering his eyes as if it would shield him from any more embarrassment.

You pulled the cloth away once more, praying to god the bleeding had stopped by now and you could remove yourself from the situation. But it hadn’t. Head injuries, what can you do?

You just giggled, trying to soften the tension in the room. “It’s okay,” you said. You didn’t mind. It was partially your fault, anyway.

Joel shook his head and smiled sheepishly, unsure of how to respond while letting you continue to care for him. His hands were still on your hips, his mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do with them. Keep them there? That would be weird, no. Remove them? Maybe, but that would also be weird. They’ve been there for so long now, fingertips pressing into your soft flesh.

Your voice interrupted his thoughts, breaking the oh so awkward silence. “Joel, I can’t help but feel like there’s something between us,” you whispered teasingly through a smile. Your eyes were twinkling with playfulness, and there were those damned butterflies in Joel’s tummy again.

Joel could only roll his eyes and groan as he pushed you off of him, grabbing the bloodied cloth from your hands as he pressed it back against his temple. What a dumb joke. “Oh my god. Shut up,”

“What?” you feigned offense, yet you continued giggling, your face pressed into the throw pillows on the couch. Joel giggled with you, relieved you weren’t upset with him or making fun of him in any way.

“Just…stop talking,” he breathed, his voice uneven through his laughter. You watched his eyes crinkle as he smiled, and he pulled a pillow from under your head to hide his bulge.

Your head fell onto the soft cushions of the couch, and you sat up to go find a bandage for Joel. After gently covering his wound, you both made your way back to the kitchen to clean up the disaster.

The candles were long forgotten.

Four. The carrot cake for Ellie’s birthday.

All in all, it was a good night. Tommy and Maria cooked dinner, Ellie’s favorite potato soup and a fresh salad. Conversation flowed between all of you as the night progressed. The cake was delicious, Ellie practically died and went to heaven when she tasted it. She gave you a big hug, so thankful for something so simple. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her.

Joel gifted her with new art supplies, the shock on her face was priceless. Joel had gotten her the “good shit” as she had so eloquently put it. After testing out new pencils and sketch pads, she put her supplies into the junk drawer. You and Joel both shared a knowing look, each of you biting back your smiles.

As the night came to a close, Maria and Tommy left, Ellie went to go to bed. But before she did, she warned Joel against taking another slice of her cake, accusing him of having a sweet tooth. This carrot cake was hers, not Joel’s. Joel raised his arms in surrender. Ellie bounced two fingers in his direction as if to say “I’m watching you,”.

After Ellie made her way back to her room, Joel grabbed two plates from the cabinet.

“Joel, she said–” you protested.

“Come on, sweetheart. One for me and one for you,” Joel encouraged you to partake in the carrot cake thievery. “She’s not gonna eat it all.”

“Joel, you’re playing with fire,”

Were you right? Absolutely. But he waved you off, setting two slices of cake on the plates. “Our secret, hm?”

You nodded, caving in. You poured the last two cups of coffee for you both, knowing how much Joel loves to pair coffee and dessert.

Joel went to the back door, holding it open for you with his back. You stepped through the doorway and sat on the rocking bench outside, being careful not to spill any coffee. Joel carefully shut the door behind himself and joined you, the bench rocking slightly with his weight. You traded a mug for a plate, and began eating in comfortable silence.

“This is fuckin’ delicious,” Joel stated, swallowing a bite of cake.

You smiled shyly. “Thank you,” you mumbled, not quite sure what else to say.

There was a tension in the air, words unsaid hanging above you like heavy rain clouds, threatening to spill over. The truth was, neither you nor Joel had been the same since the junk drawer incident. You both tripped on your words around each other, neither of you quite sure how to carry on from what happened between you. You had kind of forgotten all about making him blush, he did it on his own just fine.

Joel took a breath as if he was going to speak, faltered for a second, then exhaled. You watched him as he took a sip of coffee, the cogs in his head spinning. Finally he spoke, “So,” he started.

“So,” you replied. “That dance on Friday, are you goin’ with me and Ellie?”

You shook your head no. “I can’t,”

“Why not? Hot date?”

You smiled bashfully, shaking your head no again. “No, not that. I’m just not much of a dancer,”

“No?”

“No,” you reaffirmed.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve never really danced before,” you admitted. “Don’t know how.”

Joel smiled warmly. “I’m not into dancing either, but Ellie suckered me in. Come with us, please?” he whispered, voice earnest and of encouragement. “Just one dance with me.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please?” Joel looked at you, his big brown eyes tugging at your heartstrings. “F’ya don’t dance with me I’m gonna be Old Mrs. Anderson’s partner. Ellie’s gonna make sure of that, I guarantee it.”

You laughed, Joel did too. Old Mrs. Anderson was a sweet older woman, probably nearing her 80s. She loved Joel, always talked about how handsome he was whenever he’d help her out with chores. She’d often compare him to a younger Burt Reynolds, and Joel would roll his eyes. You knew deep down he ate it up every time.

“Fine,” you conceded. For Joel.

“Haha!” Joel cheered. “That’s my girl,” he said triumphantly, shoving a rather large bite of cake in his mouth.

My girl.

You would have been blushing at his words if it weren’t for the glob of frosting on the corner of Joel’s mouth catching your attention.

“Joel,” you giggled, pointing to your own mouth where the frosting was on his.

“What?”

“Frosting,”

“Oh,”

Joel licked the corner of his mouth, completely missing where the frosting was. Then he tried getting it with his middle finger, missing the frosting again. “Did I get it?” “No,” you giggled, “You didn’t.”

Joel tried again, missing for a third time.

And then you don’t know what came over you. Setting your own mug and plate on the patio ground, you scooted closer to him. You leaned forward, lips a hair’s breadth away from his own, and licked the frosting off of his mouth. You were about to pull away when Joel grabbed your arm, you froze under his touch.

“You just love torturin’ me, don’t you?” he teased through a whisper. Apparently he had caught on to your little game.

You couldn’t speak, your heart racing in your chest as he brought a hand up to your face. With gentle fingers, he pushed the hair out of your face and around your ear.

And it was moments away, but it felt like a fucking eternity. Joel’s lips now touching yours ever so slightly, the hand that pushed the hair out of your face now steadily holding your cheek, his thumb brushing up and down at your soft skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, anticipating his kiss. Would his lips be soft? Chapped? Does he go for the bottom or top lip? He’s gonna taste sweet like the cake, you bet yourself.

“JOOOOOOEEEELLLLL!” A shrill voice interrupted. ��YOU ASSHOLE!!!”

Ellie. Fucking cockblock!

Joel pulled away with a groan. “Dammit, Ellie, it was one slice!” You giggled. Two slices, actually. Joel’s exact words were ‘one for me and one for you’.

The two began bickering, Joel went inside to argue instead of yelling through the window.

Your face tingled, your skin not yet forgetting the pressure of his hand on your cheek or the way his lips gingerly graced your own.

Fuck. So close.

Five. Before the dance, Friday evening.

You spent the morning and afternoon with Ellie and Maria, and she lent you a pretty blue dress and some kitten heels. Ellie staunchly refused to wear a dress, compromising with Maria on a pair of well fitting pants and a plain top, but she had to let Maria do her hair at least.

You left Ellie at Maria’s house, you chuckled to yourself as you imagined the way she whined about her hair being pulled. Once at your house, you went to your room and contemplated changing.

The dress was beautiful, yes. But you couldn’t fight the gnawing feeling in your stomach. The thought of dancing with hundreds of people around you, potentially dancing with strangers. It all made your guts churn. But it was too late to cancel now, right?

Joel was in the shower, the smell of his soap filling your senses. Once he shut off the shower, he began to dress himself in his favorite flannel button up and the nicest pair of jeans he owned.

No time like the present. You stripped down, then changed into your dress. You reached behind yourself to zip it up, and fuck. The zipper was jammed near the bottom. You tried pulling up, then down. Nothing.

Joel stepped out of the bathroom, smelling fresh and woody. He might have overdone it on the cologne a hair, but he wanted to make a good impression on you as his esteemed dance partner. He knew you liked the cologne, after all.

He rapped on your door a couple of times. “Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, kinda,” you responded, your voice straining as you tried your best to zip the dress together.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“I uh,” you started. “Can you help me?”

So Joel opened your door, eyes widening at the sight before him. You were wearing your dress, but your back was completely bare. Your dress barely protected your modesty.

“Can you zip me up?”

Joel swallowed thickly and said nothing as you stood in front of him, your back facing his front. He stepped closer, his fingers shaking ever so slightly as his eyes roamed the expanse of your back. Your skin looked so soft, just as he imagined. “Yeah, I can do that,” he finally said.

He tugged on the zipper, when it didn’t move he tugged a little harder, jolting you forward. You stumbled slightly and he pulled you back with a quick apology.

Joel braced a hand on your shoulder, his touch burning into your skin yet making you shiver. He jiggled the zipper and finally dragged it up, up, up your body. You could feel his hot breath at your neck, tickling your skin.

Joel turned you to face him then, his eyes were wide, tracing every inch of your body. The dress hugged your curves perfectly and he was breathless.

“Maria let me borrow it. What do you think?” you asked, eagerly waiting on his answer. Joel could barely form words. “Good?”

“Good, yeah,” he affirmed. He was already thinking up excuses for you to not give Maria her dress back. It was made for your body.

You turned around to examine yourself in the mirror, a frown on your lips. “No,” you disagreed.

“No?” Joel was perplexed. You were the definition of beautiful.

“Something’s missing,” you mumbled to yourself, opening your jewelry box to see if you had a necklace or something. You rifled through your jewelry, tossing aside various bracelets and necklaces.

The lightbulb in Joel’s mind switched on then. “Hang on,” he said. He left for a moment, you heard a dresser drawer open and close and then his stomping returned. His hand was extended to you, holding a tiny folded cloth.

“What’s this?” you asked, puzzled.

“Nothin’,” Joel smirked.

You took the cloth from his hand, carefully unfolding the cloth. You gasped when you saw it, a dainty gold chain with a dainty gold diamond attached. You pinched the chain between your fingers and dangled it in front of you to get a better look, the diamond sparkling as it caught the light. “Joel,” you whispered, your voice serious.

“I told you, it’s nothin’,” he spoke, his voice gentle and soft. You looked up at him, a frowning sort of smile on your face. It was definitely not nothing. Joel blushed ever so slightly, but you still saw it. He said nothing as he took the necklace from you, stepped behind you and raised his arms with the necklace held in each hand. He pulled the necklace around your neck, bringing his hands closer together and clasping it over your hair. He picked your hair up and out of the necklace, pulling it to the side and letting it fall around your shoulder. Goosebumps trailed down your skin at his touch.

Before you could thank him or scold him for doing too much for you, he held out his arm for you. You took it in your hand, and he led the way.

You were quiet the whole way there, and Joel knew why. He stopped you at the door of the Tipsy Bison.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed. “Just me and you.”

When Joel finally made you blush, it was after the dance.

The dance was fine, as fine as it could have been. People were loud, you couldn’t seem to hear your own thoughts. The lights were just a bit too bright, the smell of alcohol gave you a bit of a headache.

You stood alone, picking at your fingernails and watching Joel dance with Old Mrs. Anderson. You couldn’t save him after all, Ellie pushed him right in her direction.

Joel noticed your expression from across the room, your usual smile replaced by ‘there are way too many people here and I want to go home’ kind of look.

He danced with Mrs. Anderson for a few moments longer before guiding her towards Tommy. You smiled to yourself in amusement, watching Maria giggle and Tommy roll his eyes at Joel before graciously taking Mrs. Anderson’s hand. You could picture exactly the conversation they all had. Joel probably told Mrs. Anderson that Tommy was actually looking forward to dancing with her all night, Tommy tried to stutter with some excuse but Maria agreed with Joel, encouraging her husband to humor the sweet lady.

Joel met you then, and pulled you to a corner away from where most people were mingling. “You okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“No, yeah,” you lied. “The dance is fun.”

Joel saw through your dishonesty. “We can go if you’re uncomfortable,”

“I’m okay. We still have to dance, right?”

“Only if ya want,”

Despite your nervousness, you did want to. You nodded in response.

Joel turned you around so your back was to a corner and he stood in front of you, blocking you from the rest of Jackson. “S’just you and me,” he whispered, taking one of your hands in his own. “Just us.”

You nodded again, feeling nervous yet trusting Joel to take care of you. You didn’t say anything as Joel took the opportunity to push you out of your comfort zone slightly. You were stiff as a board, he noticed as he circled one of your wrists with his strong fingers and placed your arm over his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close as he held your other hand in his own, pressed firmly to his chest. He held you tight and began to sway you both to the soft music.

“So you just do it just like this, back n’ forth,” he instructed you, his voice soft and gentle. “Come a little closer to me.”

You said nothing, just followed his directions. You stepped on Joel’s toes a couple of times, and he did his best to hide his pain. You wondered if Sophia stepped on Josh’s toes at her homecoming dance. If she was this nervous too.

“Relax. You’re doin’ fine, sweetheart,” he assured you, and you melted into his touch slightly. Your anxiety was lessened, but not completely. “I’ve got you.”

You danced with Joel, feeling increasingly more confident. He held you close as you swayed to the music. The familiar tension was beginning to return, and for a moment you felt like you were gonna combust there, dancing with Joel and being held in his embrace.

As the song ended, you considered maybe doing one more dance with Joel. It wasn’t as scary as you thought. And then, as if he could read your mind, Joel whispered in your ear, “I got a better idea,”

“Hm?”

“Wanna get out of here?”

You nodded. His hand still holding yours, he subtly lead you out the back door and to your home.

You weren’t exactly sure what Joel meant by ‘Wanna get out of here?’ but you said yes anyway. Quickly, you found out.

He felt the tension too, right? The same tension from when he injured his head, when you licked the frosting off of his mouth. Was this headed…somewhere else?

Maybe not.

You stand at the kitchen, your back pressed into the counter as Joel sets Scrabble up at the table.

“This is what we left for?” you ask, slightly confused. “Scrabble?”

“Yeah,” he says.

Hm, you think. By the end, you actually were having a nice time dancing with Joel, but you knew he wasn’t much for crowds either. And you did agree on just one dance, after all. Maybe he wanted to ditch before Tommy passed Mrs. Anderson off to him again.

“I’m gonna change into some pajamas first then, if that’s okay,” you undo the straps of your heels and set them by the door, then make your way toward your bedroom.

“That’s a smart idea,” Joel agrees, following behind you.

In your bedroom, you can’t help but feel completely puzzled. The night was not going at all the way you thought it was going to. But whatever, this is fine too. You search through your closet for pajamas, but find none. They must be in the dirty clothes pile, so you decide to borrow some from Joel.

You knock on his door.

“Yeah?” he calls, his voice slightly muffled through the door as he opens and closes his dresser drawers.

“Can I borrow some pajamas?” you ask. Joel opens the door, not yet changed out of his normal clothing.

“‘Course,” he replies. He finds a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a purpley-gray t-shirt for you to wear, then hands you both. When you don’t yet leave to change, Joel stares at you confused.

“I uh,” you stutter. “My zipper, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Right,” Joel says. What goes up must come down.You stand in front of his mirror, admiring the way the necklace looks on your skin. You push your hair to the side, allowing Joel access to unzip your dress.

He stands behind you and places one hand on your shoulder, just like earlier in the evening. He pulls down the zipper, the bzzzzrp sound it makes is loud. It’s the only sound in the room, save for your heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart.

Joel savors the sight of your bare skin before him. One of the straps of your dress falls over your shoulder, exposing your chest slightly. Through the mirror, you watch Joel’s eyes fall to your exposed shoulder, then they meet yours again. Your breath hitches in your throat, and he places the strap back where it belongs on your shoulder. A part of you is disappointed, hoping that he would have removed the other strap as well.

The back of your dress unzipped, you know the next move would be to thank Joel and change into his pajamas. But you don’t move, you’re frozen in front of him. Your eyes are glued to each other’s, and you feel the hand once on your shoulder slide down your arm, your skin raising in goosebumps at his touch.

That familiar heaviness is in the air again, much stronger this time. It’s not a rainstorm, it’s thunder. Electricity sparks between you the way lightning crackles in the clouds.

Joel is the first to speak.

“You’re beautiful,” is all he whispers. The words spill from his lips like honey, sweet and smooth and natural. “Gonna be the death of me,”

“Joel,” you whisper, watching how his finger traces back up your arm, then down again.

“M’serious,” he says, “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

His words are intoxicating, you can’t help it. It’s your turn now. Heat rises to your cheeks, the tops of your ears and your chest. You turn your face away, burying it in Joel’s flannel.

“Look at you,” he coos, amusement in his tone. “You’re gettin’ all bashful for me now.”

“I’m not,” you mumble, a futile attempt at a lie.

“Yes, you are,” he teases, turning you around to face him. Only god knows how much time you’ve spent flirting with him, teasing him to make his skin turn a vibrant shade of vermillion. This is a delightful change of pace, much deserved as well.

He holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your face upward to meet his eyes. They’re sparkling, full of adoration and lust, his pupils are blown wide.

“You know,” he whispers softly, placing his hand on your cheek just like before, on the patio. “I know what you were doin’.”

“What’s that?”

“You were teasin’ me, tryna make me blush,” he states plainly. “It worked too.”

“Guilty,” you reply, smiling into his touch and anticipating his next words.

“Have half a mind to tease you right back, my darlin’,”

Your eyes widen in excitement and wonder of what exactly being teased by Joel involves. It’s not long before he shows you.

Joel leans forward and ever so slightly brushes his lips over your own, still holding your face steady in his strong hand. And just when you think he’s gonna kiss you, actually kiss you, he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses your cheek.

He’s about to pull away and leave you hanging, but you’re faster. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, pressing your lips to his in a sloppy kiss. You feel him smile against your lips, chuckling softly as you push him towards his unmade bed. Your hands are at his shoulders, grasping at the soft flannel. You push him onto the bed, your knees sink into the soft mattress beneath you as you straddle his hips.

Your skin is on fire as he kisses you passionately, his hands feel like sunlight on your skin as they slide up and down your back. You can’t help but moan into his mouth. The necklace he gave you dangles over his face, the dress loosely covering your body threatens to expose your bare torso.

“Hey-” he says softly as you kiss at his jaw, “Should we-” then at his neck, dragging you teeth over his hot skin, “Slow this down?”

It’s not even a question for you. You’ve been dreaming of this too long. “No,” you gasp, kissing his collarbones and back up his neck, the neck you’ve dreamed of kissing for an eternity. His peppery beard scratches at your skin in the most welcoming way as you kiss his jaw, biting and sucking at his neck. The musky aroma of his cologne is intoxicating. “Need you.”

“Good,” he whispers, flipping both of you over. He’s on top of you, caging you between his arms as he kisses down your throat, “Gonna let me show you how beautiful you are?”

You can only nod in response, your hands finding the buttons on his shirt fumbling to undo them. He swats your hands away, swiftly undoing the buttons himself. You lean forward to push the flannel away from his broad shoulders, watching the fabric crumple at his feet. His torso is gorgeous, his chest rises and falls with deep breaths, his soft tummy bulges over his jeans slightly.

Your dress has a mind of its own. Both straps fall down your shoulders, the front of the dress folds at your lap. The cool air feels refreshing against your hot skin, and Joel presses you back down on the bed with his body.

He takes his time with you. Kissing, licking, biting gently at your skin. First your neck, then your chest. He presses wet and sloppy kisses over the swell of your breasts before capturing one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth. He licks and sucks at the bud, eliciting a gasp from you. One of his hands finds your other nipple, and he plays with your body for a moment, feeling you arch into his touch.

Your fingers card through his hair, tugging at the salt and pepper curls. “Joel,” you whine, “S-stop teasing me.”

“Wish I could, sweetheart. But you earned this,” he whispers, kissing lower and lower. First the underside of your breasts, then your tummy.

You let out a breathless laugh, knowing you did, in fact, earn this. Joel’s hands find the fabric of your dress circled around your lap and taps you to lift your hips. You do, and he removes the rest of your clothing, then he removes his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop. Your thin panties, soaking wet with your arousal, are the only thing that separates your bodies.

Joel resumes his sweet kissing down your body, pressing kisses down your thigh, all the way to the back of your knee and back up again. He drops to his knees before you, head between your thighs which are spread wide for him, and his hot breath tickles your center. He can smell, practically taste your arousal.

Words are unnecessary at this point, you’re pushing your hips towards his face, using your body to beg him for more. Joel presses a kiss over your panties as he hooks his fingers around the waistband. And then another clothed kiss, and one more. Just to tease.

“Joel,” you plead.

“I know,” he soothes. He doesn’t torture you much longer, pulling your panties down your legs and resuming his kisses on your inner thighs. Your pussy is glistening wet, clit swollen and begging to be touched, kissed, licked. Anything.

Joel starts slow. A kiss to your center, his tongue dips in your entrance. Your arousal is sweet and musky on his tongue, and he drags it through your velvet folds. Alternating between stiffening his tongue to a point and pressing it flat against your sex. You buck your hips into his face.

How delicious you taste, he thinks. He could spend days here, between your thighs. Devouring you, feeling your legs tremble and quiver around his head. His tongue swirls around your clit, drawing circles over and over around the sensitive bundle of nerves. One of his thick fingers teases your entrance and pushes in slowly, watching you writhe as he inserts a second. His fingers work magic on you, you’re seeing stars as he brushes that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“Joel, fuck,” you pant, “Feels good,”

He loves the encouragement. He’s sucking your clit now, using his tongue to stimulate you further. Heat builds deep in your stomach, an orgasm threatening to spill over and into his mouth, all over his tongue. It’s exactly what he wants.

Never changing his pace, his free hand travels up your body and his fingers tease your nipple, pinching and twisting the pebbled bud. It’s all you need to fall over the edge, and as you come you cry and squirm against Joel, who’s holding you steady, grounding you.

Your stomach heaves with your deep breaths as you come down, and Joel is above you once again. His mustache sparkles, wet strands of facial hair catching the low light of his room. He kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips which are now plump and slightly darker.

His tip teases your entrance, you shift yourself down to take his cock in your hand. “Mhm,” he grunts as he stops you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it above your head. He puts your other wrist there too, his strong hand holding you still. “You. Want to make you feel good, feel beautiful.”

Your fingers ache to touch him, make him fall apart how he did to you, but he refuses to indulge, no matter how badly he desires the same thing. Another time. Instead, with his free hand he holds his rock hard cock. With your thighs spread wide, knees by your chest, he drags his tip through your folds and coats himself in your wetness.

Your hips twitch, you grind against his member. It’s agonizing, the way he teases you. He said he would, after all. But the way he teases you so lovingly, you can’t be too frustrated.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nod. “Yes,”

His head falls to the side of your face, his breathing is heavy in your ear. You inhale deeply, that musky aroma of his cologne comforting you. He notches his tip at your entrance and buries himself inside you slowly, so as not to overwhelm you.

It’s like he was made for you. He’s not too big, not too small. He stretches your hole slightly, but not to the point of being unbearable. A perfect balance of pleasure and slight pain. You feel every inch of him, the way he throbs inside of you. His tip teases at that spot inside you.

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins moving. Out, in. In, out. Joel picks up his head to watch you, the way your face contorts in pleasure. How beautiful you look like this. Your soft skin is glowing by the light of his dim lamp, twitching with his every thrust. Your lips plump and parted, warm puffs of air kiss his face with your soft gasps and moans.

“So pretty, darlin’,” he whispers. “You know that?”

You hide your face in your arm, still pinned above your head.

“Hey,” he pants, still slowly rocking his hips into you. “Don’t hide from me.” Joel points a finger under your cheek and turns you to face him. His eyes are full of lust, his dark pupils replacing the deep amber of his irises.

You smile shyly, and wiggle your hands against him. “Let me touch you,” you beg.

Joel obliges, freeing your hands. His arms cage your head and your fingers tangle in his hair, his cheek pressed against your own. Your hands travel down, your fingernails scratch at his back, leaving red lines in their wake. A painting of love and passion on his skin.

Feeling ready for more, you nudge him to flip over on his back. He pulls out of you and you straddle him, he lines himself back up into your entrance. You sink down on his length, your eyes falling shut. Within moments you find your pacing, rolling your hips against his. You grind your clit against the hair surrounding his dick, teasing yourself just so.

The new angle is good for Joel, too. You move fluidly, your walls squeeze and stroke his member with every rock of your hips. “Fuck,” he gasps, watching you bounce on his cock. Your head thrown back, moans spilling from your lips. He wiggles his fingers to where your bodies connect, tracing circles on your clit. “Not gonna last long.” he warns you.

With the way he’s circling your clit, you’re not far from your own orgasm either. You can feel it blooming in your stomach once more, this time more intense. It’s right around the corner. “Come for me,” you breathe. “Want you to come,”

Joel’s determined to make you come first, however. He staves off his own orgasm for as long as he can and snaps his hips upwards into yours, quicker than your pace before. It’s almost overpowering, and your vision goes dark. Never once faltering his movements on your clit, he continues fucking you while your moans become quicker, shaky and uneven. In seconds you’re nothing but wanton cries of pleasure, riding out your orgasm as you feel waves of pleasure begin in your stomach, then radiating outward to your head and your toes.

Your walls pulse and squeeze him, coaxing his own orgasm along. You fall forward, your body going limp after finishing on his cock. His hands are squeezing your ass, fingertips bruising in your skin as he rocks your body on his cock. Moments after you come, he’s finishing too. He pumps into you erratically, shooting milky white ropes of his seed inside you.

You lay in silence, Joel’s heavy breaths pushing your body up and down. You pull off of him and lay next to him on the bed, groaning at the loss of his cock inside you.

You turn your face to look at Joel, his hair is wet and sticking to his forehead. His cheeks are flushed, and so are yours.

He presses a hand to your hot cheek. “Hey,” he teases, amusement in his tone. “You’re blushin’.”

“It doesn’t count,” you argue.

“S’that so?”

“Mhm. You made me come, not blush.”

He grins with pride. “I did, didn’t I?”

After some post-sex cuddles and a shared shower, you and Joel are back at the kitchen table playing Scrabble. Like usual.

This time, Joel’s in the lead. He must have been practicing, you think.

You play your word. ‘QUIZ’, 22 points. Not bad.

Joel is staring at his letters, his brows furrowed. His hair is messy, still damp from the shower. His fist is under his jaw, pushing his cheek into his eye. He has absolutely no business being so cute.

He moves quickly, his eyes are wide and he smirks. He places his letters on the board.

‘ZIPPER’, using your Z from earlier. The I lands on a double letter and the R lands on a triple word.

60 points, you write on the yellow legal pad.

Joel may have won the game, though you won his heart.

But who’s keeping score?

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delreykenn-punk · 10 months

Text

i want your daddy too

(dilf!miguel o'hara x fem babysitter!reader)

warnings: porn with plot, filth, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), fluff?, miguel speaking Spanish IS a WARNING, soft miguel, age agap implied, many petnames, aftercare. This is an AU, the events of the movie do not exist, miguel is not spiderman, he has the life he deserves.

summary: you are so slutty for the dad of the little girl you take care of, he does something about it.

words: 3k

You had been working for Miguel O'Hara for some months, looking after his daughter in the evenings when he went to work and came back late at night. He had no one else to leave her with and couldn't take her with him either. He came into your life or rather you came into his when he contacted you through your ad on the internet offering babysitting services, you were at university and needed to pay for some things, so you started babysitting.

You weren't complaining, you never liked kids but you enjoyed your job. Miguel's daughter Gaby had won your heart completely. She loved you very much, she always waited for you to come home with her, she loved spending time with you. And you loved her too, but you also wanted her dad…

Fuck… the man was screaming DILF all over the place, just thinking about the burly man made your pussy clench, you could feel your panties getting wet and you unconsciously clenched your legs. You bit your lower lip every time you saw his muscular arms flex at the slightest movement, his thighs were huge and you constantly fantasised about riding them.

Sometimes you just wanted the man to slam you against the wall, whip you and fuck you hard and hard, or eat your pussy as if his life depended on it. But you also expected him to love you the way you loved him.

You wanted everything with him, it was impossible not to fall in love with the man, you just had to see how wonderful he was with his daughter, there was also the fact that he treated you so beautifully and how much he cared about you, all those things made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

But of course, first, he was your boss. And second, you didn't know if he was on the same page as you, you couldn't risk ruining everything, just not.

But you were still a slut for him and you weren't ashamed of it.

One night, you were finishing some last chores, Gaby had already gone to sleep, so you took the opportunity to wash a few dishes in the laundry room. It was almost 11 p.m. when Miguel arrived home, he sighed tiredly and went to the kitchen. "Good evening sir" you smiled kindly at him, turned off the tap and took your hands off.

"Please, I told you to call me Miguel" he laughed and set his briefcase on the kitchen counter, loosened his tie and undid the first two buttons, exposing a part of his skin. You weren't discreet about seeing his chest, and he noticed this, but he was still amused by the situation.

He walked over to where you were standing with a look you couldn't quite decipher. You became nervous and swallowed as he stood next to you. "W-would you like me to get you something? Shall I make you something to eat?" you asked as best you could, the man was making you flinch just by his presence.

"No, don't worry, I've already eaten at work and you're not here to serve me chiquita" he laughed and you felt almost faint from the petname, you felt hot and wanted to fan yourself a little. "But, I'd really appreciate it if you could pour me some of that whiskey from the cupboard. I know you know where it is," he winked at you before going to sit on the kitchen stool.

Your cheeks blushed and you were so embarrassed, your boss knew you were drinking from the whiskey, you almost wanted to cover your face in shame. You only drank it when you had a stressful day and you always drank it at night, when Gabi had already gone to sleep and you were waiting for her father to arrive. Miguel let out a loud laugh when he saw your condition. "That's ok, I'm glad you at least like what I buy" he said playfully and winked at you again.

You laughed nervously and headed to the cabinets to get out the bottle of whisky. You grabbed a glass and added a couple of ice cubes, poured the liquid and walked over to the small table to hand it to Miguel "Here you go si- Miguel" you corrected yourself and laughed a little.

He thanked you with a nod and took a sip of the drink. "Oh, I needed this. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome" you smiled kindly. "W-well I was just about to leave, do you need anything else before I go?" you asked as you grabbed your bag from the couch and slung it over your shoulder.

"No, wait, don't go" he almost choked on his whiskey to tell you that. "Pour yourself a drink and drink with me, I'm sure you deserve it. Besides, it's too late for you to go alone, I'll gladly drive you home later" he offered and you couldn't refuse. You left your bag on the couch and headed back to the kitchen with him, grabbed a glass and poured some ice cubes and then poured yourself some whiskey. You sat down on the other stool next to him.

After taking a sip of the whisky, you started talking and laughing together. Sharing random stories of the two of you, getting to know each other better, and the flirting was never lacking. You felt happy and comfortable around him, he was a very kind and gentle man, you also discovered that he was actually very soft and sensitive, another reason to fall in love with him.

As the night progressed, the conversations became even more flirtatious, glances here and there, a lustful atmosphere began to fill the room.

There was a moment when it was just you talking and Miguel simply couldn't pay attention to you, too focused on the movement of your lips and how soft and kissable they looked. "Miguel, are you okay?" he snapped out of his trance and looked up at you, a little embarrassed that he wasn't paying attention to you, but mostly at the thought of the fact that you caught him looking at your lips.

"Sorry, I think I got disconnected for a second, lo siento chiquita" he chuckled softly and his cheeks turned a nice red, you couldn't smile at that.

“Don't worry, no problem” you smiled sweetly at him.

Miguel doesn't know if it was the result of alcohol, most probably it was, because sober he would never have had the courage to say what he thought. “I want to kiss you so much chiquita” he said and looked at your lips again and then looked into your eyes.

You opened your eyes in surprise and swallowed saliva at his words. But, like him, the alcohol was giving you courage and confidence. You weren't drunk, you were aware of what was happening, but you could still feel that the liquid was giving you the guts. “What's stopping you?” you replied with a mischievous grin on your face, you were eager to know what would happen.

If Miguel was surprised by your answer he didn't show it, instead he decided to break the tension once and for all. Finally he leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, taking your face in his hands. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him much closer to you. You felt his tongue against yours, and you shamelessly sucked on his, earning a growl from him. You smiled into the kiss and continued kissing him.

A few seconds later you broke apart for lack of air. You opened your eyes slowly and sighed when he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. “I wanted to do this for a long time…” he caressed your cheek and you placed your hand on his, “I wanted it too” you giggled softly.

He caressed you some more before kissing you again. This time, without breaking the kiss, he stood up from his place and made you do the same. He cornered you against the kitchen counter and continued kissing you, this time gently caressing your body in the process, running his hands up your thighs to your chest, caressing your breasts over your blouse. When you felt things were intensifying you broke the connection of their mouths.

You caught your breath before you spoke “Are you sure about this? I don't want you to-” you cut yourself off for a moment, thinking about your words and swallowing before speaking “-I don't want you to regret it later. I-I really want you” you averted your gaze from him in embarrassment, you were somehow exposing your feelings for him.

“Hey look at me” he said in a hard voice, with his fingers he turned your chin to look at him “I'm not kidding, I've wanted this for a long time, I like you a lot chiquita, you're so beautiful and you drive me so crazy” you smiled shyly at his words, you felt your cheeks burning and your heart racing with excitement. “And if you're really sure, we can see where it all goes, ok?” his face was serious and reflected security in his words, but you could still see the softness in his eyes.

“I really like you too Miguel” you pulled him to you, kissing him again.

He moaned into the kiss, grabbed you by the thighs and pulled you up onto the table. “Ay chiquita, you are so lovely” he said between kisses as he began to unbutton your trousers, you moaned and trembled at his movements and words.

“Miguel, please…”you closed your eyes and sighed as he slipped his hand into your jeans, his fingers were close to your centre, you could already feel it throbbing for attention.

“Hmm, tell me what you want baby,” he whispered against your ear and bit the lobe of your ear gently. You flinched and squealed as he rubbed your clit over the fabric of your panties, you squeezed his shoulders and buried your nails in them. “Come on, tell me what you want or I won't do anything” he stopped his movements on your clit and you despaired, he was determined not to give you what you wanted if you didn't speak.

“I-I want your fingers” you begged and took his hand to bring it back to your centre, but he wouldn't let you. “Tell me exactly where you want them…” you moaned in frustration and stirred in place. “Fuck, I want your fingers in my pussy!” you squealed loudly and he laughed smugly.

He slipped his hand back into your jeans and touched above the fabric, stealing moans and sighs from you. “Buena chica…” he said against your mouth, kissing you as you gasped.

You squeezed your breasts above the fabric to increase your pleasure. Quickly, Miguel with his other hand helped you remove your blouse, exposing your naked tits to his gaze, his eyes glistening with lust. “Mierda chiquita, the most beautiful tits I've ever seen” he crooned before leaning down and taking one nipple into his mouth, biting the nipple and sucking on it, then doing the same with the other.

“Oh Miguel!” you moaned louder as you felt his tongue circle the nipple. "I-I need your fingers inside me, please…" without coimplaining, he pulled away from your tits, pulled his hand out of your trousers and removed them, exposing the pink lace panties you were wearing. You were inwardly thankful that you had worn them today, as Miguel seemed to really like them, it made you blush.

Fuck babygirl, you're trying to kill me” he moved closer to you and started kissing your neck, leaving trails of wetness as he went. You arched your body as you felt his hands slowly pull down your panties, your pussy becoming exposed, as did your whole body.

He pulled away from you to look at you completely naked, hissing under his breath at the sight of you looking so beautiful. “Eres tan preciosa bebé.” you bit your lip shyly and spread your legs a little wider.

He laughed at that. “You're a desperate one, can't wait to have my fingers in you again huh?” he brought his hand to your cunt, which by that time was already too wet, and started stroking your clit slowly and gently.

You moaned with satisfaction as you felt his fingers in your pussy again, sighing and rolling your eyes back in pleasure. Without warning, he slipped a finger inside your cavity, making your eyes open and squeal. His fingers were so long and thick, and they hit all the right spots in your cunt. You felt a little embarrassed as you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't care in the end, you just wanted him to keep finger fucking you.

“You're such a slutty princess…you think I don't notice everything you do to get my attention?” he slipped another finger into your cunt and you closed your legs in reaction, but he quickly pulled them apart. “Stay fucking still, or I won't let you cum.” you moaned softly and said nothing anymore.

“You have such a nice tight pussy baby” he caressed your clit with his thumb as he continued to penetrate you with his fingers. You could hear the wet splash he created and that only made you that much more excited, the noise made you wetter.

“D-daddy, don't stop please.” you moaned louder, completely forgetting that the girl was already asleep in her room and could hear them if you kept it up. But Miguel wasn't helping to keep you quiet, it seemed like he was doing it on purpose, just to challenge you. “Hmm, so I'm your daddy? begging to finger fuck you, pequeña zorra” you clenched around his fingers at the words he was saying. You didn't understand what he was saying, but it excited you anyway.

Miguel takes his fingers out of you, you moaned frustrated at the lack of them, you were almost about to reach your orgasm. She brought both fingers to her lips, sucking one by one and savoring your juices with a moan.

“You taste so good babydoll,” he growled before falling to her knees in front of you. He spread your legs and placed them on his shoulders, "this pretty little pussy deserves to be taken care of, don't you think?" He took a deep breath before delving into your slippery folds with his tongue, licking your clit and tickling the sensitive flesh. You arched his body, leaning fully back against the kitchen counter and digging your heels into his back, running your hands through his hair and pulling the soft strands, pulling him even closer to your dripping cunt.

“Oh yes daddy, just like that” You moaned as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. He moved his hands to your chest to grab your tits, squeezed and pinched your nipples, twisting them between his fingers.

Miguel pulled away slightly to spit on your pussy, watching the droplet of saliva slide from your swollen clit to your puckered hole and then fall to the floor beneath you “You're so fucking hot, you drive me so crazy chiquita.” He moaned and continued to eat you like a hungry animal.

You could feel his saliva dripping down to the floor, your body trembled from so much pleasure he was giving you. You began to fuck his face, moving your hips into him and smothering him with your pussy. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer against him, squeezing the plump flesh as he grunted and moaned, alternating his movements in sucking your clit and thrusting his tongue into you. By this time you were a mess, drooling and mumbling incoherently as you felt his tongue in all the right places in your pussy, mewling as he gently bit down on your swollen clit.

Your body began to tighten, and you began to jerk like crazy, you were about to cum. Quickly, you closed your legs around Miguel, smothering him with your cunt, your head snapped back, and you could hear Miguel's grunts. He held your legs next to his face, as he continued to penetrate you with his tongue and suck on your clit.

You arched your back, your toes curled, and with a scream, you finally cum. You felt your juices splash on Miguel's face, and you were about to pull away but he wouldn't let you, continuing to grind his face into you, soaking up every last drop you had expelled, moaning at the sweet taste of your juices.

He continued to lick your center, this time more gently and sweetly, knowing you were numb from your recent orgasm, and when he was satisfied and you were clean he placed a tender kiss on your clitoris and pulled away from you. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss.

You kiss him back with the same intensity, savoring your taste in his mouth. You wrap your legs around his waist and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You stick your tongue in his mouth, sucking on it and hear him growl during the kiss. You pull away from him with a snap and a trickle of saliva still binds them together, he looks at you for a few seconds and you let out a giggle.

“Such a pretty baby… ”, he strokes your cheek, you blush and sink your face into his neck. You heard him chuckle softly, still wrapping his arms around you and gently caressing your hips, squeezing the soft flesh lovingly. You rested your head on his shoulder and yawned, your body had relaxed and you were already sleepy. You were trying your best not to fall asleep because you still wanted to fuck him, but you were already tired. He seemed to notice.

“As much as I want to fuck you, we'll have to leave it for another day, sí corazón?” he said and you felt happy and excited, with your face still in his neck you nodded quickly and enthusiastically, that made him laugh a little, he gave you a kiss on the top of your head and lifted you off the table.

You felt him carry you up the stairs and he hurried to take you to his room, he didn't want his daughter to suddenly find them. He closed the door behind him and locked the key, went to his bed and laid you gently on it. In your drowsy state, you snuggled into the pillows, burying your face in them, your hair tousled over your face. Miguel smiled tenderly at how effortlessly you were falling asleep and how beautiful you looked in that state. He took the opportunity to wipe you with a damp flannel, careful not to touch your sensitive clit and disturb you.

When he finished he lay down next to you, covering you both with his sheet, he pulled you to his chest and stroked your hair softly, he could feel your relaxed breathing and the light snores you let out. “Duerme bien chiquita” He kissed you on the forehead, hugged you and fell asleep

He was sure this was how he wanted his life to be from now on.

Translations:

chiquita (petite), lo siento (i'm sorry), mierda (shit), buena chica (good girl😮‍💨), pequeña zorra (you little slut), corazón (the literal translation is “heart” but I'll leave it as “sweetheart”), duerme bien chiquita (sleep well petite), eres tan preciosa bebé (you are so precious baby) aaaand I think that's all (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #I'm crazy about this man #miguel spiderman

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