#fem!miguel o’hara | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruisedboys · 10 months

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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

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implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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Suit Up

Summary: Miguel craves to mark you as his, but he’ll have to start slow… so he offers to build you a custom suit. For now.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Innocent and inexperienced reader. Pining. Sexual tension and frustration. Masturbation. Breeding kink.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1 (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one)

Miguel had decided he was going to build you a suit.

Not just a regular one, but an extension of his own.

He craved to have you for himself, and to have others know that. But he’d have to play his cards right. This level of obsession could easily scare someone off at first.

Especially you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

So he settled for this: building you a custom digital suit to match his.

Slowly, but surely you’d start to connect yourself to him more often.

Or so he hoped.

He found you in his lab early in the morning, sitting by the desk while taking your sweet time with a slice of watermelon.

“Good morning.”

As expected, you jolted in your seat, turning to face him.

A few droplets of juice dribbled down from your lips and chin, and eventually landing on your shirt.

You offered him a messy grin, bits of watermelon all over your teeth, but the absolute innocence of that action tore straight down to his cock.

“Oh! Miguel, hi! Sorry—” your voice came out slightly muffled, as you placed the half moon slice on a plate. “This watermelon is so sweet! Want a taste?”

His brow furrowed and he halted right in front of you. “There’s…” his voice trailed off, eyes fixed on your chin.

You immediately picked up on the implication and wiped the sugary liquid from your skin with a napkin, bringing a few fingers to your lips as well.

Miguel cursed inwardly and wondered if you were truly unaware of how suggestive all of this looked.

He slapped that thought away. No. You were too innocent for that. Your words and actions held no second meaning.

You were genuinely so fucking clueless that it only served to fuel his obsession with you.

His cock gave him a warning twitch.

He was all too familiar with those by now.

Would you be this messy while sucking him off? Would you not be able to keep it all in and eventually swallow?

He’d be fine with you not swallowing it all at first. After all, he did cum a lot. It would probably be overwhelming for someone as innocent and inexperienced as you.

“Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts at once. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for making a mess,” you said, hurriedly cleaning the desk.

There was no doubt you’d be the death of him.

Apologising for making a mess…

“Don’t worry about that,” he managed to say flatly. “I’m sure it tasted really good.”

You then smiled once more and let out a cock-twitching groan. “Oh, yes! But… why did you want me in here my casuals today?”

Right.

He moved to tap the hovering screens in front of him. “I was thinking you suit might need an upgrade.”

“What? But I built this one myself… what’s wrong with it?” you whined softly, sticking your bottom lip out.

His cock twitched again.

“I know, I know,” he reassured you with extreme ease. “But I’ve been working on a prototype of my digital suit and would like for you to test it out.”

A blatant lie.

He had just decided this the night before, after that post nut clarity had hit him hard.

How else would he mark you without you even realising?

You blinked a few times, having to tilt your head up to stare at him, and it was enough to flare his imagination.

“Really?” the excitement in your voice was palpable and he felt a sudden rush of satisfaction. “That… that would be an honour, Miguel!”

His fingers tapped through multiple files. “You’ve been helping me out a lot in the lab lately. It’s only fair that I show my appreciation.”

Your gaze wavered momentarily, broken by his genuine praise, and Miguel nearlt bit his lip from this sight alone.

“I do it willingly, Miguel. I love learning new things from you,” your eyes were back on his, and you were bearing a warm smile. “You’re a great teacher!”

He tried hard to tear his gaze away from your lips, and offered a mere nod.

You deserved more than a nod.

And your eagerness to learn from him made him feel swollen with pride. An ego booster.

It was quite addicting.

He’d teach you so much more if you’d let him. He’d teach you how to embrace your pleasure and use it for him only. Oh, how he’d enjoy teaching you how to suck his cock, or how to use your words to turn him on.

Fuck.

He would teach you all he knew.

You’d have all of him.

But he wanted you to want him the way he wanted you. No. He needed you to need him. To crave and yearn and feel the unfair ropes of despair tighten around you.

“I’ll just need your measurements,” he said, fetching a couple of measuring bands from a top shelf. “These will measure every tiny detail, so the fit is as suitable as possible.”

You nodded eagerly, lips slightly parted. He moved to grab each wrist, closing the metallic band around each wrist.

“Feet up,” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his true feelings.

You lifted one leg after the other, and he carefully clasped them around your ankles, the feel of your warm skin and proximity nearly having him bite his own lip.

“Wait, do I have be naked?”

The question caught him completely off guard and he straightened up at once. “What?”

Miguel felt more blood rushing downwards and was grateful his own suit was able to keep most of his strained erection from sight.

You broke into a nervous laugh. “Oh — I mean… you’re naked under your suit, right?”

He nodded. “Your suit becomes an extension of yourself and it should feel like a second layer of skin,” he added, extending one arm out, and allowed you to see the digital layer of fabric quickly retracting from the tips of his fingers all the way down his naked torso.

The reaction was immediate.

Your eyes landed on him for only a split second, before looking away.

For the second time that day, Miguel’s ego soared to incredibly dangerous heights.

You looked so innocent and sheepish, not daring to gaze at his incredible physique once again.

He wouldn’t hold that against you, though. You’d have plenty of time to gawk at his body once he managed to break into your mind, and make you his.

“It feels more comfortable this way,” he added reassuringly, as his suit promptly covered his exposed skin once again.

You turned to look at him again. “Oh! So I don’t actually have to be naked,” you giggled in relief.

“No,” Not for this, he wanted to add.

The height difference was starting to take a toll on his ability to focus. Having you sitting on that chair, perfectly levelled to engange in a more suggestive scenario, was enough to feel the blood boil in his veins.

He needed more.

He needed to touch you.

“Let’s boot the measuring analysis program,” Miguel took your hand in his and helped you on your feet. “I need you to stand still.”

He needed so much more than that from you, but he’d have to settle for silent agony for now.

You were visibly excited, barely able to contain yourself as a smile settled on your face, and he felt the sudden urge to praise you for being so eager and such a tease.

He tapped a few commands on his watch, and came to stand behind you, careful not to stand too close, or you’d notice his hard cock.

“Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t…

You turned your head to the side to look into his crimson eyes, confusion twisting your face. “Of course I do, Miguel.”

… because he wouldn’t.

He rolled his fingers along the hem of your shirt, slowly rolling it upwards. His heart went into overdrive instantly and he could feel the first droplets of precum dripping down his cock.

You flinched once his knuckles brushed against your skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, halting at once.

You nodded and giggled lighty. “That tickles.”

His sweet girl…

How was he supposed to endure burying himself inside you inch by inch when he couldn’t barely keep his composure now?

Once the shirt was resting under your breasts, he moved one hand to grip it gently from behind, effectively tightening the fabric flat over you. From where he stood, he could see your bra’s outline and how your breasts heaved with each breath you took.

This was driving him mad.

Your cleavage was so inviting and he had to take a step back, ensuring his erection wouldn’t accidentally brush against your ass.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this off?” you asked.

You were so fucking sweet and innocent, and he wanted nothing more than to rip all of your clothes apart.

“Just let the program scan your body,” he said, voice strained and breath coming out in shallow pants. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied.

Such a good girl for him… his sweet girl…

He would want to ask that same question the day he got to teach you how to suck his cock.

You’d struggle at first.

But he’d be patient.

He’d probably need to come up with a serum to inject himself with to keep from exploding right away, and he couldn’t have that.

You would need proper guidance, wouldn’t you? How he’d love to have you on your knees, mouth dropped open and receptive.

His other hand was now pressed flat against your tummy and he nearly bucked his hips in response.

Careful, Miguel, he scolded himself.

Was this too much?

In reality, he didn’t need to be doing any of this for measurements, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed you closer.

He needed to feel you shudder against his touch.

He needed you to need him.

You gasped softly once he started to moved his hand down ever so slightly, fingers nearly touching the waisgband of your pants.

“Ticklish?” he asked in a low voice.

You hummed, bucking your hips into him with a faint giggle, and he felt his cock into contact with your ass.

Oh, fuck.

He had to let go of you right away, flinching back.

You turned to eye him, worry plastered all of your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No!” he said right away, more precum droplets spilling out. “I think the analysis is complete,” he cleared his throat and turned his back to her, looking down to his bulge.

He wish he could set his cock free.

No.

He wish you would offer to set his cock free.

He wanted you to know and see how much his body craved yours.

“Miguel, are you okay?” you asked tenderly, moving to stand by his side, brushing his tense bicep. “We can finish this some other time.”

Was it really possible for someone to be this clueless? Was your inexperience that blinding? Hadn’t you felt his erection?

Against his will, he nodded.

He needed you gone right away.

He had to get off urgently.

“You’re overworking yourself again…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

How he’d love to make you his and have you take care of him.

Your hand squeezed his muscles gently. “Is there anything I can do?”

Please, touch me… “No. I’ll just finish the suit and have you test it out soon.”

Your hand dropped.

Maybe if he asked you to let him fuck your hand, you’d let him. Maybe.

He’d settle for you watching him jerk off to you, at this point.

“Can I pick the colours?” you then beamed, glancing up at the orange screens. “Can I? Please?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you chirped happily, swiping across the customisation menu on the screen.

Miguel paced quickly into a storage room to his left, groaning into the back of his hand.

In no time, he had the front part of his lower half of his suit vanish, cock springing free, fully coated with precum.

He let out a strained and breathy sigh of absolute relief.

“Ay, Miguel…” he muttered to himself, realising just how badly this obsession had gotten.

His cock twitched, sending strand of precum to dangle from the tip.

From this angle, he could see your back, shirt still nicely tucked under your breasts, revealing so much of your skin to him.

That would do.

For now.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set a slow pace at first, testing out his limit.

Dangerously close.

It was unfair that you were so close, yet so far. You were completely unaware of your effect on him.

Faint anger took over him.

You should be the one to bring him relief.

This was all on you… his sweet, innocent, inexperienced girl.

The pace quickened and he felt his fangs extending in anticipation.

You were bending over the desk, lifting your ass just enough for his mind to have imagining himself ramming into your from the back.

You’d love that position. Maybe not at first, but he’d teach you to enjoy thoroughly.

Being rawed and bred. You’d be a loving mother, wouldn’t you? You’d let him breed you over and over again, because you were just nice like that.

So eager to please.

He wished you’d bend over a little more, so he could fully immerse himself in his lust.

Feeling one fang dig into his lower lip, Miguel wondered how long it would take to draw blood, considering how hard it was for him to suppress his groans.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and his desire nearly pained him, because his hand would never be as tight as you, and it would never feel like you.

But he had to get rid of this now.

He had to complete your suit and mark you as his.

Everyone in Nueva York and across other universes would know you were his.

They would know not to cross you, for his wrath would be unmatched.

The sweet tingles of an orgasm soon engulfed him whole, and he threw his head back and fluttered his eyes shut, relying on his mind to keep your alive as he fucked himself for you.

Just you.

His sweet girl.

Just his.

He squeezed the first spurts of warm cum with his fingers, allowing himself go roll his hips in a broken rhythm.

The metallic taste of blood pooled in his tongue and he knew his fang has dug too deep, but he didn’t care.

He would break himself for you.

And you would, too.

You just didn’t know it yet.

Part 3

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months

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thinking of miguel kneeling on the floor as he eats you out:

(18+ mdni, fem!reader)

☆ had this idea last night and just HAD to write about it

- filthy drabble below cut -

miguel would kneel on the ground between your thighs with his face buried in your cunt, his tongue laid flat over your pretty pussy, lapping your folds as he gazes up into your lust-filled eyes. there's no other person he'd kneel for than you, no one else he'd worship or cherish.

his large hands would be firm as they rested upon your hips, keeping you sturdy as he worked over you with the point of his tongue, caressing your sweet cunt in the way he knew you needed. you’d look down at him with puffy swollen lips, an eager glimmer in your eye as you watched him eat you out, studying the way his mouth moved so effortlessly over you. his gluttonous groans would hum against your folds as his hands graze down to your ass. his fingers would squeeze and knead into the soft doughy flesh of your cheeks as he pushed your cunt further into his face.

he’d hike your leg over his shoulder, holding your thighs and waist to balance you- keeping you stable as he laps over you, muffling into your pussy about how good you taste.

your pretty desperate little cries into the air would only egg him on more, and your grip on his roots would tighten. your breathing would grow strained and strangled, and it would all feed into his ego. he loved to make you feel good, but he loved it even more when he could see just how good he made you feel.

he'd nuzzle his face further into you, gripping your hips and thighs tighter when he felt your leg shake, holding you balanced to stop your body giving up from under you.

he’d barely part from you, whispering softly against your clit with a devilish look in his eye. "cum on my tongue, cariño. I want to taste you on my lips."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara fic #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

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kissitbttr · 6 months

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a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff

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nymphomatique · 8 months

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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

#the ask had me sweatin #u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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luveline · 10 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match.

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks.

Finished. his text says.

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened.

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly.

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light.

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough.

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready.

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?"

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen.

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side.

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway.

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head.

Miguel squints at you. "What?"

"What?" you ask back.

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge.

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength.

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek.

"It's going to make my skin clearer."

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible."

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment.

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti."

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake."

"It's fish?"

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides.

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry…

Does Miguel not want to kiss you?

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods."

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest.

"You'd love that."

"Are you teasing me?"

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs."

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders."

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want."

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through.

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings.

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone.

The puppy barks hello.

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta."

"I want what you want," you say honestly.

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks.

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance.

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid."

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up.

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried.

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks.

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–"

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back."

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?"

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?"

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering."

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon.

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?"

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine."

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you.

"I sent you all those photos," you say.

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you."

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch.

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge."

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking.

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better.

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night.

He's talkative tonight.

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much."

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing.

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led."

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime.

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt.

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive."

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad."

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it.

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little.

"Then…"

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?"

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead.

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him.

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that."

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it.

"You're not mad?" he asks again.

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss.

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard.

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away.

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy.

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks.

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?"

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?"

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?"

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?"

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely.

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?"

"Your face was wet."

"And after when we were eating dinner?"

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point."

"A kiss would've made me feel better."

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back.

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know."

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says.

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek.

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you.

"Where are you going?"

"I need a drink."

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands.

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck.

"No!" you laugh.

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down.

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile.

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down.

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold."

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on.

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises.

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo."

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

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hrhmimieucliffe · 7 months

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madschiavelique · 9 months

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Hi Ily

Miguel who says he doesn’t want kids after gabriella but secretly tries to breed reader 🤭 breeding press, ass up head down, missionary but he holds knees up to readers chest afterwards for a minute? Anytime reader confronts this he denies it LOL lowkey gaslighting them

GN reader tyyy

aww ily too nony !! hope u like it hehehe

summary : miguel said he didn't want kids after gabriella... but sectrely tries to breed you content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, breeding kink, scent kink (miguel can smell reader's ovulating), gn!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 627 tag list : @fandom-ash

A moan washed through your hot breath against Miguel's cheek as he thrust into you once more, making you feel as if he were buried even deeper within you.

Your calves rested on his shoulders while your knees were on either side of your head, grazing your ears.

"Miguel-" you swallowed as your voice caught in your throat, "I'm too full."

But that was all he was looking for.

Miguel had raised your hips, pressed your legs against you to drive his cock even deeper into you. He had to touch you to the core, make sure his cum would fill you completely and guarantee that you would bear his children.

You were already full, but he had to go on and finish one more time, as much for his own pleasure as to make sure you'd end up pregnant.

He could already picture you, your rounded belly that he caressed and kissed as you carried the fruit of his success inside you.

His chest was pressed against the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers gripping one of them firmly as he moved down to kiss your neck before only pulling his head back to admire the view.

He had before him the most sublime vision of all, your gaze all hazy and dumb fucked, breasts pressed and cunt just taking him perfectly.

His pupils turned red, his rhythm quickening while he let out low grunts as he came to kiss you.

He couldn't think of anything else, his only thoughts all focused on breeding you. He had to make sure you were full enough so that, if he pressed down on your belly, hi cum would drip out of you excessively.

Your mouth whimpering his name, your nails tracing long lines down his back and leaving crescent moon marks in his arm, your smell...

You were ovulating, and that's what made it so uncontrollable. That plump, warm, irresistible smell - how could he control himself when you smelled like that? You were ready for him, your body itself caressing his deepest instincts.

Your walls were so warm, enveloping him to perfection.

"Take it all in," he growled as he felt himself coming, accelerating harder inside you.

He bit into your neck, licking the trail he'd left. His scent mingling with yours was just so exceptional, he couldn't get rid of it, and didn't want to : it felt like pure heaven.

He grunted with a final thrust as he sank deep inside you, feeling his cum filling you all warm once more as you moaned at the sensation.

He came to press his forehead to yours, breathing open-mouthed before coming to kiss you, not moving from the position. He was still buried deep in you, making sure you stayed full and nothing came out.

"Are you... trying to get me pregnant?" you murmured against him, still breathless as Miguel nuzzled his head into your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

He bit his lip and wrinkled his nose. He knew well that you suspected his convictions about not wanting any more children were dubious.

"Don't you like being so full of me, mami?" he'd asked, hoping to deflect the conversation.

"I do, but-" he came to kiss you, cutting you off.

"But what?" his voice was calm, honeyed.

"You said-" but he interrupted you again.

"What I said didn't matter." he sighed as he kissed your cheek, grinning against it as he came back to face you. "But what matters more to me now is that you admitted to liking it."

He raised your hips a little higher even than before, bringing his fingers against your clit which drew a moan from you.

"Then you won't mind if I continue."

Good things can always be overindulged.

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coryosbaby · 9 months

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Who Has a Face Like Smarty Does?

—“Why don’t you just listen?”

Fandom: “Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse”

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Spider! Reader

Summary: You don’t know when to follow orders.

Cw: dubcon/cnc, nsfw . spanking, daddy kink, age gap, spitting, size kink, biting, marking

🩷🤍

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Miguel pounds into you at a restless pace, fangs bared sharp and scraping against your jugular. “Why don’t you just listen? Huh? Are you that fucking stupid?”

Your eyes roll back as his incredibly thick length bruises your walls. You know you’ve been bad; going directly against his orders to help Miles is probably the worst thing you could do. And getting sassy about— having an attitude— definitely didn’t help. So when he threw you into his office and ripped the crotch of your latex suit, exposed your puffy cunt to the room, and bent you over his desk, you knew you were in deep trouble.

It hurts, the way he’s fucking you. But you know he doesn’t want you to feel pleasure. You know he wants to break you. Blood coats your tits in thick red stains, bite marks running along your neck and jaw from where he sunk his fangs into you. Aphrodisiacs, they are; and when they sink into you all you can think of his thick, hard cock, bulging muscles and handsome face. You’re like a bitch in heat.

“‘M sorry, daddy!” You cry out. It’s too much, but you know he won’t stop.

“Oh, you’re going to be sorry, little girl.” He growls. “Daddy’s gonna fill this fucking cunt up. That’ll teach you to mind your manners, won’t it?”

“Yes daddy- fill me up! Please fill my pussy up, need it s’ bad..”

It’s all you can say. His hands curl up into the position they make when he’s about to shoot the webs from his wrists; the sound of the sticky substance landing on your shoulders makes your mouth gape as he uses his own webs to lift your body firmly off the wooden desk. Your nipples barely graze it as he speeds his pace up. A damn near impossible speed for a normal man, but Miguel O’Hara is not normal.

He moans when he looks down and sees your creamy spend leaking down his cock and balls. His thick thighs are hitting your ass as he ruts into you. “mi amor, estás chorreando…” translation: My love, you’re dripping.

Other harsh disgusting words spew from his lips. Your gaping snatch is closed tightly around him as he sinks his fangs into you again.

Your eyes roll back, a pained but also pleasured cry leaving your soft lips, legs shaking and cunt drenching him. His claws dig into your sides and then he reels back and slaps your ass. You gasp, and begin fucking back onto him when he does it again.

“Oh, look at you,” Miguel teases. “You want more of my slaps, little one? Do you want to be punished?”

You nod, and his hands come down onto you again.

“Miggy..”

“I want you to cum, mi amor.” He states breathlessly. “Rub your clit and wet my fuckin’ dick.”

You don’t understand why he’s letting it happen so soon. Wasn’t this supposed to be a punishment? But you listen to him anyway, and begin to rub the swollen nub with harsh strokes. Your orgasm has you practically screaming— and afterwards, Miguel doesn’t let up. He abuses your womb over and over until you can’t even breathe. It’s borderline painful, and your body feels completely spent and used.

By your tenth or eleventh orgasm, he’s got you pinned to the wall by his webs with his arms holding your neck in a chokehold. He eats your cunt out with his bloody mouth, and your eyes are rolling back, little nghhhs sighing out of you as he slurps your sopping wet hole. Your vision is going fuzzy, but you don’t care.

“Are you learning your lesson, mami?” He groans, as he pulls away from your cunt and rubs harshly on your clit with his thumb. You sob, nodding, drool leaking out of the corners of your plush mouth.

“‘S.. ‘s too much, miggy. Please, I can’t take it anymore..” you whine, but his fingers harshly slap your pussy and you jolt with a cry.

“You take what I give you.” He says, and then he’s ripping the webs from your body and letting you slide down the wall onto the floor with the help of his strong hands. You cry, legs trying to run away from him; you know you want it, but your body is drained.

Miguel growls, his claws grabbing you in a loose grip and dragging you back to his cock.

“Don’t run away from me, little bitch. You need to be fucking disciplined! This cunt is going to cum again whether you like it or not.”

You pant against his crotch as he shoves your face into his pubic hair. The smell of his pheromones makes your eyes roll back.

Your cunt pulses again.

—fuck, you’re in trouble.

#Miguel O’Hara #Miguel O’Hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader #Miguel O’Hara smut #Spider-Man #Spider-Man: into the spiderverse #Miguel O’Hara fanfic

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miguelsslvt · 8 months

Text

ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader

part two here!

word count: 745

TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.

A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!

back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.

you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.

miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.

you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.

miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.

it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?

that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!

you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.

'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.

'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.

the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'

your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.

'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.

3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.

'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.

'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.

god, is this heaven?

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #smut #across the spiderverse #fem reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #2099 #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader

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ramonathinks · 9 months

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your dad always mentioning his best friend — you’re always hearing stories about him yet he’s never around. you only ever seen the back of his head in photos, and honestly you can barely even remember his name.

so when you’re back from university during the summer and your dad says in passing that his best friend is finally coming down to see him, you don’t think to much of it. just finally glad you’re able to meet the man who your dad is always raving about.

but being back home and away from school, you finally feel a bit more free. you invite a few friends out to a local club, waiting to look cute and just get some drinks.

you weren’t expecting a handsome stranger to be so taken with you. he buys you a drink, he offers you a dance, you can feel just how hard he is against your backside but he doesn’t care. “i want to be a gentleman and not fuck you in the bathroom…” as he speaks the dress you’re wearing is pulled up your hips, the club dimly lit and you can only feel his strong hands trailing up and down your thighs. “but i can hardly hold on any longer. you’re such a beautiful woman, you know that?”

“so i must ask if i can take you to where im saying tonight?” his fingers circle around your panty clothed clit and you squirm, nodding.

the hotel he stays at is only a block away, the walk is almost unbearable with his hot gaze and his hand on the small of your back.

a good look under the bedroom light and you get even wetter, his older handsome face under your dress when he sits you on the bed.

he’s sloppy with it. wetness coating your thighs as he slurps up the wetness you let out. he plays with your clit using his mouth to suck and lick trails up, drawing circles all over. muttering: “sticky little thing.” you try not to squirm to move but you reach down to tug at his hair as he shakes his hand to get more of your juices to coat his face. your thighs shake but he stops: “want you cumin’ on my cock, got that pretty?”

his cock splits you open, you arch your back and move back, he just laughs: “you can take it, cmon.” and even whispers more dirty things in your ear: “cmon baby, this pussy is weeping, don’t you want her to stop crying?”

you stay up all night as he makes you take him over and over again until he can fit himself all the way in. the long drags of his thick cock overwhelming you, your toes curl and when a tear falls from your eyes he makes sure to lick it up, you can’t believe this man is so filthy.

when the morning time comes you hear him on the phone, muttering or rather trying to be a gentleman to let you sleep in. he leaves you a bit of money with a note saying not to think of it as anything, he owes you for making you stay up all night.

you don’t expect to see him again. especially at home, hugging your dear old dad. you don’t expect him to look at you with the same amount as want and need as last night as you shake his hand.

even when breakfast is over, he helps you wash the dishes, saying he wants to get to know you better or so he tells your dad — his best friend. but instead he’s talking to you: “what are we going to do, hm? we can’t tell him, your dad would kill me.”

“my dad would kill both of us. you’re his best friend—”

“and you’re his precious daughter.” his eyes darken as he looks you over, even with you just wearing a tee shirt and jeans he still was packing a hard on. “he can forgive you, he won’t forgive me. im the adult here.”

“im twenty three, im an adult!” you try to argue.

“half my age, i shouldn’t have been been so careless.” he mutters, thinking to himself. “reckless. let’s just make that a one time thing, okay? look at me.”

your body burns in embarrassment as you look up at him, biting your lip and twirling your hair. you liked the way he looked at you, soft warming and inviting eyes.

he says it’s a one time thing until he’s putting his number in your phone. he says it’s a one time thing until he’s fucking you a few times before he leaves. he says it’s a one time thing until he’s taking you on dinners. he says it’s a one time thing even when he’s three months deep into the summer.

he says it’s a one time thing the entirety of his stay and when you’re back on campus, getting ready to sign a lease to a lonely apartment. you realize it’s not a one time thing when he’s pulling up and quickly telling the landlords nevermind for you and he’s giving you keys to a shared place.

“just don’t tell your dad, okay?” he winks.

SHIU KONG, TOJI, MIGUEL, GHOST, KÖNIG

BANNERS BY @/cafekitsune

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kentosblkgf · 8 months

Text

Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hush baby, be patient.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Miguel please, more.”

You whined.

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

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

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

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

“Look at yourself.”

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

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

But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.

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

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

"You gonna take it?"

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

"Promise."

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

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

"Deeper."

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

"Mig- oh fuck wait."

"Don't be a liar baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold your legs." Fuck.

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

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

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

"Better keep that promise."

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

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

"C'mon, baby."

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

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

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

"So good.."

It sounds like you are whining.

"You're fucking me so good."

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

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

"Open your eyes."

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

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

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

"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.

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

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

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

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

"Cum baby."

He's pleading for you to cum.

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

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

"Come back to me, c'mon."

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

"M'gonna move okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

#miguel x black reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #kentosblkgf

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

Text

Frustration

Summary: Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Masturbation. Sexual frustration. Obsessed Miguel. Inspired by this ask + gif.

* ˚ ✦ Part 2

There you were.

His walking and breathing torment.

You had been plaguing his every thought, and you didn’t even know.

He had lost count to the amount of times he had drained himself thinking of you. Oftentimes, more than once a day.

But his frustration was reaching new heights.

His eyes followed your every move through the orange floating screens in his living room.

You were pacing across sector 13’s warehouse in the middle of the night, working on some new tech. Of course you were. You were just so sweet and generous, and had offered him a helping hand.

How he craved that helping hand to relieve him of his sexual tension.

But for now, he got to watch you from a distance, as he lay sprawled on his couch, a heavy frown setting on his face.

Your fingers moved gracefully from one piece of metal to another, inspecting them carefully, and Miguel vaguely wondered if they would be this attentive while touching his cock.

One hand came to tap the screens so he could zoom in on you.

He had discared his suit for casuals before getting some rest, but he couldn’t help himself.

He had to watch you.

Leaning back with a groan, his cock strained almost painfully against his pants, but Miguel wouldn’t dare touch himself just yet. He needed to train himself to last longer without caving in.

You were absolutely on the task at hand, teeth digging lightly into your bottom lip.

He almost gave up right there and then, but balled his fists instead at his side.

If only you knew how hard he was for you. How much he craved your touch and attention.

A grunt escaped his parted lips as his cock hardened fully, the first beads of precum wetting his skin.

He was so ready for you…

His eyes were glued to the screen, roaming along your body. Your shirt was covered in grime and oil and the neckline was so low that if you were to bend over, he’d be able to take a glimpse.

“Come on…” he muttered under his breath, yearning for that reveal of skin that would tip him over.

You dragged a piece of cloth across your neck to wipe off the sweat, and he scowled deeply.

With him, you wouldn’t need to bother with that. He’d take care of you… he’d wash you clean right after devouring you whole.

His hands itched to set his cock free, but he needed more from you.

You were such a sweet and helpful girl.

Surely you could give him more, right?

He waited… and waited… patience slowly draining.

“Por favor…” he growled almost desperately.

The moment presented itself with you bringing a bottle of water to your lips, eagerly quenching your thirst.

A few droplets dripped down your chin, neck and finally soaking through your shirt.

He had waited for too long and had reached his breaking point.

Even though a part of him felt ashamed to resort to this, he just couldn’t find another way to deal with his frustration.

He brought one hand to rest on his crotch and ran his thumb along the underside of his strained cock, immediately hissing.

Resting his head on the back of his other hand, he felt the frustration taking over him as he knew there was no other way now.

Your bra was visible enough through the shirt for him to picture having his cock placed right in between your breasts that he would squeeze to add more friction.

Lazily dragging the zipper down, Miguel slipped his hand in to finally easy the tension.

His cock curved slightly, strings of precum dripping from the tip and he let lout a shaky sigh of relief.

You were suddenly smiling at something.

Or someone.

Who wasn’t him.

He narrowed his eyes in search of the source, but couldn’t find it.

Jealousy flared inside him like wildfire, coursing through his veins, as his fingers wrapped around his cock.

Why were you, his sweet girl, smiling? You should be right there with him, and he knew you’d gasp at his impressive size and at the realisation of how you made him feel. He’d take his time to make sure you felt comfortable enough to eventually touch him and let him touch you.

His fangs were now protruding in anticipation.

Would you let him graze them across your heated skin? Would you let him lick your neck? Would you let him make you his?

He’d be so good for you…

Miguel started gliding his hand up and down painfully slowly, precum rolling down his knuckles.

You were now fanning yourself with your hand and his hips bucked instinctively.

“Sí, cariño… so hot…” he said in between moans, fucking himself relentlessly.

He increased the grip around his cock, knowing fully well your pussy would squeeze him tighter than this.

It would be a miracle if he managed to last long inside you. He’d want your first time together to be with you on your back, so he could watch your face twist as you struggled to take all of him. He could picture perfectly in his mind how your lips would quiver and how he’d promptly comfort you, reassuring you that he would take it slowly.

His eyes fluttered shut, as he kept fucking his hand, wet sounds adding to the pleasure.

He pictured you riding him, soft moans escaping your lips as he guided you up and down.

Another broken thrust.

Deciding that he needed more visual guidance, his eyes snapped open as he watched as you tapped on your watch.

The one on his wrist beeped and Miguel groaned in pure frustration.

He considered not answering you, but…

“Hey, Miguel,” your sweet voice came through and it took all of him not to burst.

“Hey.”

You were pacing nervously. “I… think I fried the chip. I’m sorry… I thought it’d handle the added voltage.”

So fucking sweet…

He halted his strokes momentarily, inhaling and trying to steady his breathing.

“Say something…” your voice was low. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not,” he managed to say, cock twitching at the innocence in your voice.

How could he ever be mad at you?

“Huh… well, I know it’s late… but if you want to come…”

Bad choice of words…

Because he did want to come… deep inside you.

“… or not! You can take a look tomorrow,” you added rapidly with a nervous laugh, and Miguel had to bite the back of his hand to muffle a moan.

“You okay? You sound… breathless…”

Look at you… so concerned with his well-being… he’d love to leave you breathless.

He exhaled slowly. “Yes. Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great,” he said, slipping into his tendency to praise you. “You’re really good.”

“You think so? I mean, you’re the expert here… I’m still learning.”

He dragged the pad of his thumb across the tip, feeling the

“You’re so good,” he nearly moaned out.

“It means a lot coming from you,” she chirped happily, unaware of how close he was. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Bye~”

You were visibly excited on the screen in front of him, and it was evident you had enjoyed his praise and approval.

His sweet girl always so eager to please.

That was enough to bring him over the edge.

He tapped his watch right away, feeling the unstoppable wave of an orgasm flush through his entire body at once as the first streaks of cum shot out, landing on his pants and lower abdomen. He rode out his pleasure with messy rolls of his hips, fingers squeezing out as much cum as possible.

A loud growl erupted from his throat and he did allowed the overwhelming sensation to completely take over.

By the time he came down from his high, breathless and swear rolling down his face, Miguel realised he would have to eventually do something about this. The amount of cum pooling at his lower abdomen was impressive and he knew it was all going to waste.

Unless he made you his.

Part 2

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel x reader

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