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tarjapearce · 4 months

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Heathens (Pt. 1)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader

art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~

Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~

A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:

Main Masterlist

From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.

Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.

Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.

The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.

All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.

Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.

As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.

But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.

The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.

A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.

And him. The new priest.

The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.

The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.

He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.

"Father."

Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.

"Sister"

His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.

It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.

Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.

He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.

You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.

Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.

After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.

Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.

Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.

Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.

The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.

His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.

Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.

It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.

Until he held you the other day.

Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.

Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.

Jesus all mighty.

It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.

To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.

Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.

Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.

But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.

----

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.

"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."

Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.

"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."

A man?

His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.

"How does this man tempts you?"

"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."

A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.

"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."

"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"

"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."

"What kind of fear then?"

It took you a long pause to muster

"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."

He gulped.

Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."

"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"

"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."

His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.

"Ever?"

"I promise to you with my life, I've never."

"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"

"W-What?"

Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.

"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."

The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.

All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.

"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."

"Explain yourself"

His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.

"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."

His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch

"Marvelous?"

"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."

"Accountability is part of the process."

He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.

Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.

There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?

No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.

He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.

He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.

But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.

"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."

Maker's mercy

His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.

As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.

He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.

He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.

"Say it. Say your sin."

He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.

"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.

"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."

The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.

Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.

Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.

And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.

The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.

He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.

His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.

"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.

He shouldn't have lied back ago. And definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.

He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.

---

Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.

You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.

If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.

Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.

Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.

And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.

It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?

But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.

Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.

It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.

Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.

While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.

"P-Please-"

"Jesus. Come in."

He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.

"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"

Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.

"An umbrella? Really?!"

A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.

"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."

"I... I don't h-have clothes."

You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.

"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."

He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.

A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.

The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.

Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.

"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)

He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.

"Hey, hey, look at me."

Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.

A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.

"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.

"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"

The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.

"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)

He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations

Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.

"W-Wait"

A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.

He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.

His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.

That will come later.

But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.

Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.

It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.

"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.

"You'll be fine."

Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.

You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.

"Father O'Hara..."

Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.

"It's Miguel."

He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.

"Thank you, Father."

"Stop."

His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.

"Stop calling me that."

"But that's your-"

"I don't like it."

He grumbled while looking down at you.

"Call me Miguel."

"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."

"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"

You nodded

"Are you cold?"

"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"

His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.

"No. Just got worse."

You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.

The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.

"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."

Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.

"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."

"We'll go by. It's ok."

"Are my clothes ready yet?"

A snort that would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.

"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."

Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.

"D-Did you see me naked?"

"No."

Oh.

There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.

"Have you seen other women naked?"

He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.

"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."

His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist

"Do you miss it?"

"Would be a liar to say if I don't."

"You... You've had sex before?"

He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.

"I did. Plenty of times."

Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.

"I was told it felt marvelous."

You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours

"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"

He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.

You only nodded.

"Use your words, dear"

"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."

It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.

A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.

"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"

Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.

Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.

"You're still cold."

Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.

His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.

"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?

Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.

Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.

Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia

"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"

Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.

Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you

"So so pretty. Look at that"

He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space

A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.

"Want to add another?"

A breathless and hissing yes.

You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.

"Does that feel good, Hm?"

A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly

"More?"

"Please!"

How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.

"Like this?"

He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.

Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.

But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.

Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.

It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.

He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.

"M-More"

He shook his head with a proud smile

"Can't do that, preciosa"

A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"

"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."

"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"

"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."

He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.

"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Is that clear?"

You nodded with a pout.

"Lay on the bed."

"What? "

"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."

Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.

"Spread them."

Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.

He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.

Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.

The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.

His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.

Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.

Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.

The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.

Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.

Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.

You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.

His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.

Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.

That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.

"Miguel"

His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.

He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.

Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.

You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.

"Please"

You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.

What had he done out of you?

"Greed is a sin, my dear."

What had he created?

"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."

His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.

He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.

He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.

You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.

You'd be his.

---

Taglist:

@plumplumpurin

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel ohara smut #priest miguel #Miguelverse #spiderman 2099 masterlist #spiderman 2099 smut #priest au #afab reader #Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Note

PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best.

wc: 1.4k

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

A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on.

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?"

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired."

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist. "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll.

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily?

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads.

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake."

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it.

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek.

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips.

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up.

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away.

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him.

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting.

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest, you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact.

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss.

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed."

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?"

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven.

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip.

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds.

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them.

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so…

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath.

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him.

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-"

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #cuz i can't help myself #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader

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cheonstapes · 7 months

Note

^^ Hello, how are you. Idk if this is the right place to send a request since I’m new to tumblr lol. I would like to make a request though it may seem a little weird. May I request Miguel O’Hara/Fem Spider-barbie reader. Reader’s outgoing and cheerful she has the aesthetic of a Barbie and gets along with other spiders, she’s not actual barbie doll btw lol. Miguel could be yelling and giving other spiders a hard time but whenever Spider Barbie’s around he’s the complete opposite. Spider barbie always helps calm him down whenever he loses his temper. Maybe one day he’s stressed and angry over a mission so spider barbie decides to calm him down with a back massage. Could also lead to some smut, only if you’re okay with writing that. No pressure. Thanks! ^^

miguel o'hara stars in... 'HI BARBIE! HI KEN!' ヽ(>∀<☆)

a/n ~ first request!!1!! i'm doing great, thank you so much. this isn’t weird at all- i spent all day writing this, it's so cute!! i had margot robbie's cowgirl fit in mind for reader when i was writing this, she's so beautiful omg, i think it suits spider-barbie's vibe really well💕 went a bit heavy with the smut but miguel's hot so it's valid- enjoy my love!

summary; miguel gets some stress relief from his favourite barbie girl.

pairing; miguel o’hara x fem!spider-barbie!reader

wc; 2.3k +

cw; SMUT!!, pining, oral sex, dry humping, facial, throat/face-fuckin, soft?dom!miguel, sub!reader, he's a lil mean but he loves you, praise kink, worshiping, hair pulling, miguel shouts at some people, f!masturbation, squirtinnn, miguel being sexy, NOT PROOFREAD!! i have a headache

“and you didn’t think to fucking report it to me?” miguel was seething, talons digging stripes into his desk as he glared down at the poor recruits below him. yes, they were new, but they fucked up an important mission- he wasn’t about to go easy on them.

“por el amor de dios, do you three have any idea how serious this is? you could’ve-“ the spiders looked at each other, eyes of their masks comically wide as the drown out miguel’s rants to try and come up with some sort of excuse to justify the failed mission. “-and don’t even think about coming up with some bullshit excuse.”

they froze, shaking their heads and hands rapidly as they nervously stuttered out, ‘no, of course not’, and, ‘we would never, boss’- miguel’s disapproving gaze boring holes into their masks, he jumps off the platform and stalks up to them. menacingly looming over them as his eyes flash red, lips pulled up in a snarl as his sharp fangs poke out under his top lip.

“don’t let this happen again, cause i swear i’ll-”suddenly, the doors of his lab slide open, a cheery voice ringing through the spacious room as all eyes flit towards the pink figure strutting in. the recruits blush under their masks, hearts beating rapidly at the sight of the sparkly spider- known across the spiderverse as the most perfect spider, spider barbie.

“miguel? i brought you some lunch! oh- hi guys! sorry i didn’t mean to interrupt, i’m y/n, by the way.” you flash them a bright smile, glossy, plump lips glistening under the lights as you hold up the bag of food- the spiders wave frantically, greeting you with unmatched enthusiasm. miguel’s breath hitches at the sight of you, masking it with a roll of his eyes as he looks down at you- eyes softer compared to the harshness they had when looking at the recruits.

“it’s fine, y/n, we were done here anyway.” that was their cue to leave, the newbies scrambling to get out of the room, feeling the tension rising, but not without sending you shy smiles and whispered goodbyes you reciprocate with angelic kindness. miguel watches you intently, eyes locked on your every move. his eyes trail down the hot pink set you wore, the fat of your tits spilling out the tight top, curvy hips accentuated by the tightness of your flares - fuck, you are perfect.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his bulking frame towering over you as he takes the bag gently from your pretty hands, making sure to brush over them slightly. “what’d you get me this time, hm? empanadas again?” he has a crooked smirk on his lips as he opens the bag, his eyes still trained on you as you sit on the counter, the prettiest smile on your face. “actually, i got you some sushi this time. thought i should surprise you a little.”

he allows himself to smile, the tension in his face easing in your presence. “yeah? how’d y’know i’d like sushi? you keeping tabs on me?” you giggle, stealing a piece of sushi from the platter. “wouldn’t you like to know. i asked lyla, actually, she’s very helpful.” his eyebrow raises, glancing over at the glowing hologram who appears to be lounging by the monitors, a small smile on her face hidden by a small magazine.

“right, guess i’m gonna have to install a ‘keep your fuckin’ mouth shut’ feature now.” he mutters, secretly enjoying the thought of you knowing things about him he wouldn’t dare to tell anyone if they asked, relishing in the thread of connection you two share. you stand, moving around him to stand behind him, stretching up to grip his shoulders.

“you ok, miguel? you seemed upset earlier.” you whisper in his ear, hands running down his arms innocently. he doesn’t think so though, the soft touch of your hands compared to his firm muscles igniting a tingling feeling in his belly - a soft groan leaving his parted lips as he leans into your touch. “‘m fine, the new recruits just pissed me off. nothin’ f’r you to worry ‘bout, pretty.” you smile slightly as he lets the pet name slip out, your hands running more sensually around his upper body, dipping into the crevices and curves of his chiseled body.

“let me at least help you feel better, mig, your shoulders are tense as fuck.” you smirk playfully, leaning round his body to peer up at his face, eyes widening as you take him in. his eyes were slightly hooded, wetted lips open in pleasure, a faint tinge of red on his face. he looks down at you, panting softly as he sucks in a deep breath, nodding silently as he allows you to lead him wherever.

gently grasping his hand in yours, you lead him towards his large chair, sitting him down as you slide yourself in his lap. miguel’s head races with all sorts of thoughts, the tell tale sign of his arousal pressing against the crotch of your sparkling pants, his hands subtly moving you down to ease the ache in his lap. your lips pull into a empathetic pout, hands moving gracefully along the taut muscles of his shoulder blades, moving down to the ridges of his abs.

“how’s this feel? am i doing good?” the sweet tone in which you speak has him biting back a growl, his cock throbbing as he moves subtly against the plush folds of your cunt through the fabric. “ ‘s great, your- shit- your hands feel amazing, love. jus’…keep doing that, yeah?” you nod, biting your lip softly as you keep up your soft caresses. his head falls back against the chair, eyes closed in bliss- he looks so unbelievably handsome, sculpted jawline, high cheekbones, he’s just so mmh.

you couldn’t help yourself, not when he was practically offering you a taste of him. his thick neck, littered with veins of various sizes, laid bare for you. you slowly moved in, small breaths warming the skin of his neck, heart pumping and hands trembling slightly. your glossy lips press light kisses on the flesh, shiny, pink, marks left behind. one hand moves up to rest on his chest as you feel a surge of boldness rush through you, leaning in once again to suckle on his skin.

his eyes flit open, gazing down at you as you mark his neck with deep red and purple bruises, his hand lazily running up your spine as he grinds into you just a little harder. “hm? what happened to givin’ me a massage?” he flashes you a sexy grin, tilting his head at your ministrations- not that he minds of course. you don’t respond, only small moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you continue to suck on his skin. his hand moves down to your chin, lifting your flushed face to meet his. “thought you were supposed to be makin’ me feel better? i can feel that pretty pussy soaking through y’r jeans, love. this turnin’ you on?”

you nod, your beautiful face betraying your need for him. he lets out a deep chuckle, hands caressing your hips as he moves you to grind against him, the thin fabrics of both of your clothes letting you feel the engorged tip of his cock brushing against your clit. he breathes out a stuttered moan, gritting his teeth as he stares into your eyes, how could someone be so fuckin’ perfect? you had to have been made to torture him, to make his heart race and cock hard to every time he’s around you- hell, every time he thinks about you.

“miguel…” your whining snaps him out of his thoughts, his focus immediately zeroes back onto you. he pulls you closer, resting you against his bulky chest. “yeah? what’s up, baby? what d’you want?” his thumbs caress your nipples through the fabric of your top, the rough pads of his fingers making your pussy clench tightly, slick coating your puffy folds. you look up at him, hands pulling at the thin fabric of his suit. “i still wanna make you feel better…can-can i suck you off, please?”

has he died? has miguel died and gone to heaven? or was this some kind of fucked up hell, there was no way he was hearing correctly. you, the sweet, innocent, barbie-esque, spider he’s been silently pining over for months now is asking him, so cutely, to suck his cock. he doesn’t think he’s been as eager to say yes to anything as he was now. he clicks a button on his wrist, his suit glitching away at his crotch. his cock is so pretty. a trail of dark hair leading down his navel, the tip a deep red, the rest tanned, throbbing veins wrapping around his length. it was fat, and shit, it was long too- pre dripping down the side of it as it, twitching the longer you stared at it.

your mouth waters, tongue darting out to lick your lips. your nimble hands wrap around his cock, a small gasp rings out in the room as your thumb runs along his tip, collecting the wetness and rubbing it around the tip. his fangs dig into his lips, speckles of blood pooling underneath the sharp tip. he sinks deeper into the chair, his suit dissipating more to reveal his thick thighs, a large hand coming to rest against one, the other caressing your cheek softly. “gonna wrap those pretty lips around me, baby? ‘m so hard, need you to make me feel better.” he didn’t expect to hear how needy he sounded, but he wasn’t embarrassed, he’s finally got you- and he wants you to know how badly he needs you.

he guides your head towards his aching cock, a hand moving to grip your hair tightly. he angles his length towards your shimmering lips, rubbing the tip all over, smearing his pre-cum along your gloss. a low, rumbling hum reverberates through his chest, quiet curses leaving his lips. he finally forces the fat head of his cock through your lips, simultaneously pushing your head down along the length of his cock. the sounds of you gagging fills his chest with a sense of pride, forcing you to take all of his thickness. it was so, so messy. saliva and creamy strips of cum dripped down the side of his cock, wetting your lips and pooling on top of his balls. he smiles at the sight, head lolling to the side, resting against a hard shoulder.

“my pretty girl, can’t believe ‘m finally havin’ you like this. i- mm i would worship you, if you’d let me. you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby, a walkin’ goddess. and your lips, fuck, those perfect lips.” his mind is all scrambled, the feeling of you sucking the soul out of him rendering him a blubbering mess, resulting in him pouring his heart out to you. smiling around his cock, you look up him, those sexy eyes of yours gazing into his- a silent reciprocation of his affection towards you. at that, your lips suction around him faster, tighter, coaxing him into filling your mouth with his load.

his breathing deepens, sweaty chest heaving. at this point, his suit is gone. he doesn’t bother hold back his moans, deep growls and grunts that make curious spiders stop and listen in as they pass his lab, opting to not investigate what the big boss is up to further. but you, you’re a fuckin’ sight between his legs. mascara running down your hot cheeks, gloss, spit, and cum on your chin, running down your neck and between your cleavage. he didn’t think you could get even more beautiful, but here you were.

“i’m ‘bout to cum, yeah? gonna fill that perfect mouth of y’rs with my all my cum, ‘n you’re gonna swallow it like the good girl i know you are, ok baby?” his hips buck frantically into your salacious mouth, holding the back of your neck tightly to keep you anchored at the base of his cock, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. his actions betrayed his sweet words, hands gently running over your face, wiping away stray tears as his cock abuses your poor throat. he catches a glimpse of you sliding a hand down the front of your pants, pushing aside your panties to rub against your sticky clit.

‘so cute’. he smiles, revelling in your soft whimpers and your shaky thighs- the squelch of the three fingers you plunged into you almost drowning out the slick gluck! gluck! gluck! of your throat. “fuck, baby, i can hear her from here. she’s so wet just from suckin’ me off, isn’t she?” your fingers speed up, his voice a sexy, deep drawl- lips quirked back up in a smirk, but it was short lived as he felt his balls tighten, orgasm threatening to take over him.

his leg bounces, your mouth was just so wet, so fuckin’ hot- he couldn’t take it anymore. he’s waited so long to feel you around him, to see you take him so beautifully. his body tenses, a low growl of your name leaving his plump lips. his cum spurts out in steady streams, your cheeks puffing out from the sheer amount he unloads into your mouth. it drips out the side of your lips, you struggle to hold it all in, letting it drip down your neck.

you choke on the liquid in your mouth, your orgasm squirting out onto the cold floor of his lab. he laughs breathlessly, he was so whipped for you. watching his pretty, little, angel cum so perfectly for him. his cock lets out a few more spurts on your cheeks, twitching again when you struggle to swallow his load down. he wipes away the cum on your cheeks, dipping his thumb back into your mouth to let you lick the remnants off. he smiles softly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you back onto his lap, running hands up and down your back lovingly.

“s-so, d’you feel better now?”

“mm, think there’s just one more thing i need. spread your legs f’r me, baby.”

*por el amor de dios - for the love of god

-gonna take a cold shower now

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #astv miguel #cheonstapes #cheonstapes-films!🪷#cheonsshowreals 🤍

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yanderestarangel · 1 month

Note

Okay, so I was thinking about yandere Peter B and Miguel O’Hara with FTM reader. Both men obsessed and possessive with them ever since they joined the society.

And they both share them. Kinks could be breeding, size difference, degradation, praising kink? Miguel could be a hard dom and Peter a soft dom. You could add more if ya like.

Your writing is absolutely amazing!

🕸️🕷️ 》 OUR LITTLE SPIDER || PETER B. PARKER AND MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER ||

A/N: I made it in headcanon format because I was too lazy to make a one shot, but I hope you like it.

THIS WAS A LITTLE TOO LONG SORRY--- ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: age gap, smut, yandere content, dark romance, daddykink, praise!kink, size!kink, possession, manipulation, ftm reader, betrayal, breed!kink, v!sex, anal!sex, overstimulation, kidnapping, blackmail, murder, aphrodisiac use, dub con, threesome, creampie.

Being in the spidersociety was a big responsibility role for you, but you accepted it anyway, after all you had the sense of hero that each spider variant had. You didn't expect so much attention or flattery for you but that's what you received from two specific people ─ Miguel O'Hara, your boss and Peter B. Parker, the most peaceful and sweet spider man you met in Spider society. You swore you saw hearts form in the two older men's orbs simultaneously.

You quickly saw things escalate to a strange level. Miguel was very protective of you, even putting you on "easier" missions like staying at the spider society headquarters and giving him boring reports.

"You're safe here. Being a spider-man isn't just about battling villains, it's about learning responsibility. You're still a little spider, carinõ." the Mexican would speak as he gave you more papers to fill out. While on the other hand, Peter agreed with everything the leader said, complementing even more.

"Miguel is right, baby boy. You still have a lot to learn." The older man gestured excitedly and you accepted, defeated and sighing.

O'Hara watched everything with a chill passing through him, he tried not to let his thoughts speak loudly but he knew that Peter was also interested in you, just like the Mexican was.

"You shouldn't be so close to him, Peter. Your wife will be jealous." O'Hara hissed the words like venom coming out of his fangs, while the other spider-man just smiled relaxedly and looked at the younger man.

"You want to compete for him? Is that it Miguelito? You liked him too, didn't you? We can share." Peter spoke as he saw you oblivious to the dark conversation you were both having.

The proposal for a share was denied in the first instance, but every day it seemed more tempting for the spider leader, for several reasons. The main one was that you were getting closer to other spider variants and Peter, being more social, was keeping up with your pace ── at the same time that you realized that some spider variants no longer wanted to talk to you, if that variant presented romantic interest in you, they disappeared and came back with deep bruises, diverting topics with you and leading you to turn to Peter.

Little did you know that the nice family man was the cause of that. He was sick for you, to the point of abandoning his purposes and character ── you and his daughter were the only things that mattered to him at that moment, he told himself that he still loved Mary Jane... But he also loved you.

Peter was getting rid of another spider variant using threats and pure blackmail to do so, but the poor victim that time had no chance after Miguel appeared and took out his fury on them. The tall man sloppily wiped the blood off his hands as he turned to Peter.

"Okay... I accept your proposal, let's share the ninõ." O'Hara spoke in a calm, cold and insane tone, while he saw Parker smile and nod his head ── after this previous peace agreement between them, it was his life's turn to become a sweet hell.

You had no one else inside or outside the spider society, Peter and Miguel were the only ones who spoke to you. (Peter's threat + Miguel's tyrannical power with the other spider variants in secret was the reason for his involuntary isolation.)

In addition to the fact that the Mexican used his entire database to find out about your family, friends and possible love interests outside the society he had control over ── some were bought with money, others were threatened and others... They were found in alleys and became news on TV channels.

Everything was falling apart in your life, even your college grades and your mental state and all you had left was the comfort of the two older men... Exactly as you both planned.

You ran into their arms while crying and venting ── an Oscar award was supposed to be presented to the duo, both of them pretended shock and indignation while you told them every detail. So when you were weakened enough, they acted, bringing you into their possession, protecting you from the cruel world that was made worse in their minds.

Compliments, gifts, words of positive affirmations and everything sweet and warm in the world they gave you. Miguel was more desperate for touch, placing you on his lap while he worked on the panels of the multiverse or giving you small, intimate but not vulgar kisses, something that asserted a silent and slow dominance ── away from curious eyes, after all he was still the leader of that society.

Peter on the other hand would give you more affection in public, you and him would even go for a walk together with mayday as a family, away from Mary Jane's eyes. He would also lie to you saying that he and his wife were separated and even show the old divorce paper to prove something to you... You were trapped in a spider web of lies and dirty manipulations.

And when you realized, you were in a relationship with both men ── they asked you if it was okay for you to deal with both of them at the same time, which you denied, too drunk with pleasure to think about anything more than both filling you to the brim (an effect that was also the fault of the aphrodisiac Miguel had put in your drink that day.)

Peter's hands took off your spider uniform while O'Hara's thick hands went towards your wetness, playing roughly with your clit "mi hermoso" the spider leader growled in your ear as one of his thick fingers entered inside you, making you moan ─ at the same time that Peter sucked your nipples and gently squeezed your breasts, his experienced hands were working magic on your body. Raw kisses were left by the older man on your abdomen, as Parker knelt and licked your clit, helping O'Hara prepare you even more for what was to come.

"You're already dripping for us, aren't you? Such a good little slut." The tanned man teased as he stuck a second finger in your cunt, stretching you in scissor movements, back and forth. Peter got out on his knees as he captured your lips lightly moaning huskily against your flesh: "Such a beautiful and good boy for us... You make your daddies proud like that little spider." He said as Miguel pressed his hard, pulsing erection against your ass, making you moan loudly against the other man's lips.

The two bodies fit perfectly inside you, practically crushing you with their heat as you tried not to cum on O'Hara's fingers, but the effort was in vain as you felt him easily reach your cervix. You felt one of Peter's fingers soon find your other hole, making you moan even more against his lips.

"That's it, my spider boy. Show us how much you want it." The voices mixed together as you felt like you were going to explode at any moment and it actually happened ── you came, squirting onto Miguel's forearm and dripping onto the floor as all your muscles contracted involuntarily.

"I knew it was going to be a fucking squirt." The spider leader said, laughing, as you left for the next step ── you just left yourself there, your body for the two of them to use as they wanted, you just wanted to feel good and they would guarantee that.

With careful coordination and chemistry between the three of you, you found yourself sitting on Peter's lap, your back pressed against his chest as he guided his cock to your tight hole. Meanwhile, Miguel positioned himself at your front, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered your dripping pussy. "Te ves tan hermoso."

Peter couldn't help but let out a groan of satisfaction as he finally buried his cock deep inside your tight ass, the feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness was overwhelming for him, he had to fight against the urge to just thrust into you with abandon. Instead, he took deep breaths to steady himself, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, you feel incredible, baby boy. So tight and eager for me... You wanted that, didn't you? Being filled by two dicks, a greedy, needy boy..."

Miguel's primal instincts took over as he felt the tightness of your pussy around his cock, the blissful sensation causing a guttural moan to escape his lips. "I'm going to breed in that beautiful pussy of yours, boy... You're going to be our breed whore... We're going to always leave you full of cum, in that beautiful hole of yours." Miguel's hips moved in sync with Peter's, his thrusts gaining speed and force as he aimed to push you over the edge. "So beautiful and obedient, If you continue like this, being a good boy will be rewarded ok?.." the older man moaned as you felt Peter and Miguel's cocks stretch you to the edge, letting you drool on both of their cocks like an animal in heat. Just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you moaned their names. Parker and O'Hara continued their relentless thrusts, prolonging your orgasm and riding the waves of your ecstasy, but they hadn't stopped yet. Peter's thrusts grew more frantic as he felt your body convulse under him, the pleasure building within him as well. He knew that his release wasn't far behind.

"You're so damn tight, baby. Fuck, I'm gonna come--" His voice was filled with a mix of pleasure and urgency as he increased the pace of his thrusts. O'Hara felt his own release drawing near, your tight pussy milking his cock with each powerful thrust. His grip on your hips tightened as he neared his own climax. "Holy shit little boy, you're really going to get pregnant with us, aren't you?" As both men reached their climaxes, they filled you with their seed. Peter's hot cum filled your tight ass, while Miguel's release spilled into your pussy, marking you as theirs. Their bodies shuddered as they reached their peaks, their gazes locked on yours. Nothing needed to be phallus, not when both of your eyes reflected their red, sickly hearts, surrounded by possession and pleasure for you.

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wyvernest · 9 months

Text

feast on me

pairing: dom!miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: smut, foodplay, grinding, marking, possessive miguel, objectification,

summary: you and miguel try something new, and he gets lost in the raw lust of enjoying every inch of your body

You are sprawled out on his king size bed, waiting. Your heart is drumming in your chest, eyes never leaving his.

"I've been dreaming about this." He rasps, looking down at your form, gaze piercing and imposing. Your attention flows down his perfectly sculpted abdomen, down to the boxers that do very little concealing to his erection.

Leaning down, hovering over you, he makes you feel small, submitted. You let a near animalistic feeling rush through your veins, that he owns you entirely, that your only purpose is to obey him and do his bidding. And the best part about it, it makes your panties soak and mind fuzzy with lust, the way he has you on your knees with just one look.

Gripping both your wrists with one hand, he releases a strong web string, restraining them to the bed frame. Climbing on the bed, his weight and height alone reminding you of the strength and stamina you're about to try to endure, he traps your thighs in between his, the pressure between your legs increasing.

His nostrils flare momentarily, pupils dilated. Your breathing is already laboured in anticipation. He bends down, straying from the plan, just to sense how aroused you are. Your scent floods his lucidity, his cock visibly twitching under the flimsy fabric.

"Miguel.. get on with it already. Stop teasing."

"Let me enjoy it, mi vida." His tone is dripping with need and desperation, held back only by his desire to be the one in charge. "You smell so good when you're so ready for me."

You feel burning heat rise to your face. "Ah, Miguel," the rest of the plea dissolves into a moaned sigh.

"Estás bien rica, mami", he licks and bites at the dip of your waist, puffing hot breaths over the soft skin. "Make me hard with just one look."

You begin squirming, wanting to feel more. Wanting him to stick to the idea he had.

With a groan, he reaches for the bedside table, taking the syrup. Your eyes widen, as if you haven't discussed it already. He removes the cap with evident impatience before he starts pouring it over your chest and waist in calculated motions. You flinch as the liquid drips down your naked body, avoiding his lustful gaze.

When he deems it sufficient, he gets rid of the bottle and stares down at you in awe, a starved man with a five course meal right in front of him.

His eyelids hang low over his wide blown pupils, showcasing not a single thought beyond wanting to get his mouth on you and dick between your soaked folds. With his arms now bracketing your torso, he gets to work.

You feel like a piece of meat, the prey he's devouring so hungrily, nothing to stop or bother him. You moan his name as his warm breath falls heavily over your flushed skin, indecisive about the place he should start.

And he goes for your neck.

The scent of him, cologne and his distinctive musk invade you like pheromones, drowning out the sweet essence of the syrup. He groans against the crook of your neck, and you give a futile attempt to free your legs from his hold and rub your cunt on his hard cock. He licks the liquid clean from your skin, paying close attention to the sensitive spots he has learned so well. You instinctively tilt your head to the side, your body silently begging him not to stop without your mind even present. One of his hands travels down your side, kneading the soft flesh of your breast, careful not to smudge the cream.

"Let me.." You whine, pushing into him, feeling the considerable weight of his fat cock laying on your lower belly as he leans down further over you. He can't help but chase the friction, either.

He raises to your face in response, swallowing your empty begging. You taste the aroma of the syrup on your tongue, eager to prolong the kiss. But before you can deepen the connection, he departs, leaving you even more riled up and utterly frustrated.

"You're so pretty when you're needy." He teases right into your ear, before resuming the licks and bites down your neck. He has to actively stop himself from sinking his teeth in your skin, the feeling of your smooth and soft skin, the heat of your need, are clouding his judgement.

He reaches your collarbones, his hot tongue lapping up the liquid, always followed by open-mouthed pecks and small bites. You arch your back into his touch, needing his mouth just a couple inches lower. He continues to lick your skin clean, slowly and mindlessly grinding his erection into you.

You feel used, strictly for his pleasure. You're nothing but a fuck toy, unable to voice your own frustrations, forced to take whatever he'll give you.

You try to move your hips against him, but his thighs tense impossibly tighter around you, and you think you're going to die right then and there.

"Mira qué tetas tan bonitas", He rasps before taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly. You whimper and push your chest closer to his face.

He extends his tongue to press it flat over the tender flesh of your breast, indulging in the feeling of your skin, heated up underneath his touch. He kisses hard over the expanse of your chest, almost hurriedly.

Your brain is fried with the wet sounds reverberating in your ears, combined with the unabashed groans of the man on top of you.

Your chest is covered in his spit; marked up in various spots by reddening patches, the traces of his need to make you his. You smell like him, and you really are, utterly and completely, his.

He licks up a long stipe of syrup through the valley between your breasts and looks up to you, before taking both of them in his hands, groping and fondling, playing with the soft flesh as he continues his kisses down your navel, to the line of your waist.

Your eyes roll back as you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you were holding on to, feeling the girth of his rock hard cock rub in on your lower belly. He's unconsciously rocking his hips back and forth, a barely there movement, slow enough not to drive him towards release but harsh enough to make you squirm harder underneath him.

"Así estás muy guapa" he whispers in between rushed licks and kisses across your chest, when he parts his mouth from your soft skin, before diving right back in as if you'll disappear. Exhales laboured, words breathy and deep, he confesses;

"Me pones tan cachondo.", his nostrils flare as he takes your syrup coated breast in his mouth, one hand gripping your waist, the other drifting down. "I wanna be inside you."

"Please - I've been - ah", he returns to your neck unexpectedly, after having finally licked you clean. "I've been trying to tell you -"

He ends the protest with a hungry kiss, messy and sloppy. His tongue is in your mouth quickly enough, taking you by surprise while his hand works his boxers down his thighs. By now, his cock is twitching in need, precum running down the shaft.

He shuffles away from you in order to give you enough space to curl your sore legs around his waist, before you feel a broad hand splayed out on your back.

You can barely register his intentions as he flips you both, placing you on his lap and presenting you with his raging erection, propped on your stomach.

You automatically place your hands on his firm chest, feeling up his pecs. He leans forward, kissing below your ear.

"Ride me."

translations:

Estás bien rica - You're really hot

Mira qué tetas tan bonitas - Look what pretty tits

Así estás muy guapa - You're so beautiful like this

Me pones tan cachondo - You make me so horny

a/n: as always, correct my spanish if you notice any mistakes<3

edit: yes i re-uploaded cause apparently i got shadowbanned and i hope it's fixed now

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse

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clandestineloki · 9 months

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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p2)

part 2 to this

miguel rolls you over on your back and takes your wrists in his hand, kissing your fingers and smiling up at you

it may be a sincere, sweet smile, but you're very flustered because this is your very attractive husband mind you

and you're still blushing like a schoolgirl when he looks at you with hearts in his eyes!!

he laughs softly at your flustered expression, and he just makes you even more embarrassed by spreading ur thighs open and licking his lips.

and he eats you up literally bc he bites down on your thigh like ur a little bun of bread, with the chomp noise and all >:(

then he goes n leaves a huge bite like the vampire daddy he is and then kisses it better, leaving a hickey and riling you up n making you whine

he is so mean!! but hes also calling u a good little wife so u're feeling very floaty <33

then his hands knead ur breasts and you whimper, so sensitive after the bath to the point where a brush of his skin against yours makes you super wet between ur legs poor babyy

and miguel notices that and bites his lip. you're such a needy baby, aren't you, gatita?

u never wanna admit it, but that's okay, he'll just prove it by fucking you so good you go dumb <33

so he gets to work on the fountain of youth between your legs

licks a fat stripe up your cunt and makes you twitch and shiver

stay still, baby, he mumbles against ur pussy, lean back, let daddy enjoy his favorite dessert~

fuck you taste so sweet, gatita, you got daddy wrapped around your little finger, mm?

you really have no idea how sexy you are :((

he licks up all your juices and laughs when he feels your thighs shaking, and just keeps eating his lovely wife out like she's his last meal

then when he feels your little hole clenching down, just so desperate to be filled

he shoves two fingers in and grins when you scream in pleasure, coming as he curls his fingers up into your cunt as you squirt all over his face <3333

pulls his fingers away and licks up the mess on his hand

then he holds his fingers out to you like "wanna taste"

n you're like "eww no" and he bursts out laughing

"more for me then hahaha- ow! dont hit me gatita"

he's disgusting...ly charming omg

u turn on ur side facing away from him but he pushes u on your back again

did you think he was done with you?? oh no no

he sinks in, no more prep needed since he got u sooooo needy and even his teasing made you so flustered nd aroused

"ah, such a cute little plaything, letting me fuck her as i please, you like when i tease you dont you bebita<3"

you whimper and turn ur head away, but he goes no no babyy i wont tease anymore, my pretty wife just look at me please?~

you turn ur head back to him and he grins, thrusting even harder

"ahh that's it baby~" he grunts, pinning your wrists to the side and kissing your neck sloppily.

"d-daddy!" you whine, squirming under his weight and he laughs

"don't run from me, bebita, we both know your pretty pussy loves me, doesnt it~?"

and he rubs ur little clit and makes you scream and go dumb from bliss

then he goes even harder, overstimulating u, but when you can't hear him, he whispers so many sorrys and i love yous because he knows he doesnt deserve such a pretty little wife who lets him do whatever he wants with her :((

but he hears you slur out, "i love you" and he kisses you passionately, both his and your doubts gone because this moment is all you two needed to calm down

then he wraps the two of you up in the blankets in a spooning position and kisses you goodnight n cradles you in his arms

but not before he slips his cock in u again >:))

he makes you sleep that way cockwarming him

and as a reward u wake up to the feeling of him lazily thrusting into you <3

#soft dom miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel x reader

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liliacamethyst · 10 months

Text

Playtime with Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

summary: Miguel begging you to cum. That's it. That's the plot.

warnings: dom/sub, edging, blowjob, smut, 18+ content

a/n: Hey everyone, apologies for my recent absence, I've been buried in exam prep. But don't worry, the 4th part of the web series is on its way soon! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this little story I've had tucked away in my drafts. Remember to look after yourselves and I'll be back before you know it with even more requests and Miguel fics. Love you all and don't forget to stay hydrated!

“Care to play a game?” you ask, as you take steps closer to him. You can see his pride wrestling with his intrigue. “What’s the game?” he asks. You smile wide at him and without warning, you shoot a string of web that wraps around him.

“Simple,” you say, “You have to stay still while I…” you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his cheek, then his jawline down to his throat. His eyes widen.

Miguel tries to hide his delight. “Is that all?” he feigns nonchalance.

“Oh no,” you tease, “there’s more.” You lean in again and brush your lips against his, only to pull away at the last second. The tension between you both is electric.

You wrap more webbing around him, leaving him barely able to move. “Aren’t you going to ask nicely to be set free?” you ask with a smirk.

His pride is legendary, but so is his wit. “No. Yo no ruego." (I don't beg.)"he retorts. He squirms lightly but his face is stoic as ever.

You lean in, your lips a breath away from his, and whisper, “We'll see about that.”

With a flicker in your eyes, you suddenly whip out a sharp nail file and make a quick, precise cut on the crotch of Miguel's suit, freeing his big member. The blue fabric splits apart, revealing his already hard cock.

You gently glide your finger down the exposed area, and then look up at him with an innocent smile. Despite the unexpected action, Miguel remains unfazed, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “ You just had to ask, mi amor" he quips, his voice laced with humor.

A chuckle escapes your lips. "I'm just checking for hidden weapons, Spider. You never know with you." You kneel down, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

You delicately trail your tongue up and down his length, punctuating your actions with playful, kittenish licks on his leaking tip. When you decide that you've teased him enough, you take his entire manhood into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing.

You can sense his intense, half-lidded gaze on you, accompanied by a soft growl escaping his lips.

He looks down at you, his chest heaving, sweat dripping off his brow.

With every head bob, he grunts louder, his teeth gritted and sweat dripping down his face.

“Mierda, mi sol. I’m close.” You could tell, his balls are tightening in your hand and his moans are growing louder, that was always his tell. But then without a warning and with one final plop you release him from your mouth.

His eyes shoot open, the intense concentration breaking momentarily for a glare. “What the hell. What do you think you’re doing, Sunny?” his voice is strained, he thrusts his hips forward to get even a tiny bit of friction. Meanwhile, you are already gracefully risen to your feet and slowly lean closer, your breath grazing his ear. "Beg for it," you whisper. Miguel appears perplexed for a fleeting moment, stuttering, “I... I...”

Then, gathering himself, his voice becomes firm as he declares, “I do not beg.”

You grab his balls gently with one hand, while with the other, you tenderly and painfully slowly trace your fingers down his length. In response, a deep, primal growl escapes his throat.

With a raised eyebrow and a faint, teasing smirk, you inquire, "Huh? What was that?"

He seems to be in an internal struggle, trying desperately to retain control. His voice comes out as a soft whisper, “Please, let me cum.”

But your playful side is not quite satisfied. You continue your feathery caresses near his overstimulated tip, replying, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He makes an attempt to jerk his hips forward, but you assertively tighten your hold. A resigned look crosses his face before he finally capitulates. “Alright, you fucking win. Please, mi sol, please make me cum?”

At this, you offer a wink of approval and once again take your place kneeling in front of him. “Now was that so hard, Spider-boy?”

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

hii i love your work!

i was wondering if you could write a sensitive fem!reader x Miguel O’Hara x Peter B smut? peter is like a soft dom and miguel is a hard dom?

miguel of course says something a little to mean while fucking her from behind, and she starts to cry and peter is all like “miguel, you made her cry”

thank you 🙏🏼

OMG anon you don't know what this did to me

you just provoked my new addiction : i want to write so much more miguel x reader x peter now i'm OBSESSED (also tumblr was kinda bugging while i tried doing this post so i hope things will be alright fdvfbsef - and this is not proofread :D)

summary : miguel made you cry because he was mean as you were eiffel towered by him and Peter B.

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, hard dom!miguel o'hara, soft dom!peter b. parker, reader being eiffel towered (i'm french and feeling very patriotic on this one🥖), miguel being a bit too mean, overstimulation, pnv sex, sodomy, no use of Y/N word count : 1,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

You whimpered once more, your whole body feeling electric and tired at the same time as you sank down shakily. Miguel was behind you, his warm breath landing on your ear as you felt his torso bulge against your back. Peter was facing you, kissing your shoulder as your breasts pressed against his chest.

You couldn't tell the time any more, whether it had been an hour or more that they were fucking you without stopping. Many orgasms had been reached, and your body was floating in this cloud of overstimulation. You were exhausted, at the end of your rope, with barely enough energy to lift your body and sink on both of their dicks buried in you.

Needing to regain your strength and rest both your thighs and your whole body, which had been in orgasmic succession, you rested for a moment, not moving as their two cocks stayed all warm in you.

"Did I say you could stop?" Miguel grunted against your back, his teeth grazing your skin as his hand rested on your thighs and squeezed your flesh between his massive fingers.

You let out a moan, your head falling back to rest in the crook of Miguel's neck.

"I can't," you breathed shakily, "it's too much."

You could feel the electricity coursing through your thighs, your body on fire, absolutely exhausted by the effort that had been required of you from the start.

"Come on sweetheart," Peter encouraged, caressing your cheek as he waited for you to continue. "You can do this."

You inhaled harshly, pressing down on your trembling thighs to rise again and continue. The knot forming in your body stretched from your lower stomach to the small of your back. The overload of sensation was heightening your sensitivity to the limit, both physically and mentally.

Your legs were tired, trying to bury yourself properly on them. One of your hands had found its place on Peter's shoulder, the other holding Miguel's thigh and allowing you to hold on better as you went back and forth.

"Is that the best you can do?" Miguel grumbled against your ear, both your faces covered in a light sheen of sweat.

One of his hands went to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushed even deeper and you let out a moan. The fatigue was getting hard to handle, all the sensations mixed together, their breaths, their voices, their words...

"If you can't do it right, I'll find someone who can".

This sentence stung you in the chest. All you were doing was trying to do your best for them, to make them feel good and have your share in it too. Were you really that incapable? Were you so incompetent that you didn't do anything for them? Were you really that useless?

"Watch your mouth," Peter warned, not necessarily condoning the crude words his partner had just uttered.

But it was too late, your heart clenched, your throat constricted as a ball formed in it. Your eyes burned, you would have preferred not to cry, but your nose stung so much in your abstinence that you ended up breaking. When the tears came, you lowered your head against Peter's shoulder, and they flowed hard and committed.

"Hey what's that," he said, feeling beads running down his skin that he knew wasn't sweat.

You didn't dare look at them, your hips still moving, your shame and discouragement oppressing your chest.

"Look at me," he asked softly as his hand came to rest on your cheek.

You looked up, your eyes unable to find his. But he placed his index finger like a hook under your chin to raise it, and your wet eyes met his.

"Oh no," he said, mouth half open, "bunny, are you crying?"

You immediately felt Miguel tense up, his hand suddenly much softer against your skin.

"What?" he asked, gently sliding his hand over your jaw in the hope of turning you towards him and seeing your face.

But you pulled away from his touch and buried your face in Peter's shoulder, not feeling strong enough to face Miguel's gaze.

"Miguel, you made her cry," Peter said, stroking your hair gently as Miguel's mouth fell open in surprise.

He hadn't realised the impact words like that could have on you, especially in this context. You had been so good to them, and you still are, their absolute dream. You are perfection itself, and Miguel would obviously never want to replace you with anyone else.

"Muñeca..." he murmured against your back as he came to kiss you tenderly, his hand caressing your hip.

Your tears were still flowing, your back shaking with little jolts of heartache and pleasure.

"Mírame," he asked gently, kissing the back of your neck.

You breathed in, lifting your wet cheeks from Peter's shoulder and turning to meet Miguel's face.

His eyes instantly became pained, pained to have been the one to cause this state. He would never, ever wish for anyone but you. He caressed your cheek, kissing the corner of your eyes and licking your wet skin.

"Please forgive me, amor," he whispered against your skin, "you know I never meant these words, right?"

Your chin trembled and Peter put his hand on your other cheek to wipe it clean.

"You're the only one we want," Miguel assured you, his eyes fixed on yours. "You're the most perfect thing that ever happened to us, and we would never want anybody else than you."

You sniffled, the sweet words he gave you pressing into your heart like a comforting balm. You loved them both so dearly, and it felt good to know that they did too.

"How are you feeling right now?" Peter asked, kissing your cheek softly.

You breathed in, still feeling the exhaustion weighing on your thighs and body.

"Like everything's too much," you managed to whisper, sniffing and swallowing.

"Do you think you can come just once more for us, nena?" Miguel asked, kissing your shoulder gently and stroking your thigh with his thumb.

The knot in your stomach was still tight, and it was almost painful not to get any relief from it.

"Mhm," you nodded as you pushed on your thighs again to raise them up.

Miguel's hands both came to grip your hip to guide you, helping you to sink and rise much more easily and sparing you a little pain in your thighs.

"You're so good for us," Peter breathed, kissing the crook of your neck lovingly, "you're doing such a good job, taking us like that."

Miguel kept pace with your hips, neither urging you on nor slowing you down. Both their warm breaths landed on your skin, whispering sweet, soft words that softened your heart and enveloped it in adoration.

Your moans began to multiply, vibrating in your throat a little more as you finally approached orgasm.

"Come for us, muñeca" encouraged Miguel.

And you came, your whole body shaking as if a bolt of lightning had struck your core and spread seismic waves of pleasure throughout its entirety.

You let your head rest against Miguel's chest, and he kissed your forehead gently.

"I knew you could do it," he whispered.

"You're our angel," Peter confirmed as he kissed your cheek.

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berry-potchy · 9 months

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Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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kittysl4t · 11 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara x Hispanic reader

Fem civilian reader

Thinking of miguel being all tough and 'manly' but when he's near you, he gets all shy and nervous. 😔💗

(English is not my first language)

Gif not mine

Miguel is a man that has a really good reputation, serious, manly, tough giant hero that whoever dares to cross his path with a slight different option to his, is done.

People close to his job environment were kinda scare of him, but tried not to make it to obvious, in case he gets more furious about it.

That scary, angry expression of his was immediately gone once he sees you, smiling at him, his gaze changes to a more relaxed one. He was finally home.

You didn't get up from the sofa and just lift your finger, you can see his face light up and rapidly goes towards you, getting on his knees immediately, kissing your hand.

'¿Que tal estás, amor?' (How are you, love?) You asked, pleased by the quickly submission of your giant boyfriend.

You rub his cheek cutely, and touch his soft wavy hair 'Bien, estaba un poco estresado por el trabajo, but contigo a mi lado im much better' (Good, i was a little stressed 'cause work, but w you by my side im much better).

Miguel never considered himself a submissive men. All the other relationships he has been in before, were pretty normal, but with you he is a different men, he feels like he only exists to please you, not only sexually, of course.

You want something? He give it to you no matter what, no matter the money, the time. You want to fuck him in the middle of his work?, You have it.

No complaints, no 'buts' , no 'i can't' .

You love going outside w him, watch him begin all tough and demanding to the people around him.

So funny seeing him squirm and change his expression when you set the vibrator to the max, you can't help but laugh at him when he gives those pleading eyes.

Poor thing, he knows you won't stop, you're gonna make him cum in front of his employees. :(

He gets all flustered, but he never changes his grumpy face.

'i have to go for a moment i'll be right back' you see how he quickly runs to the restroom. You grab your phone, and immediately send him a message '¿Quien te dio permiso a irte? Brat' (Who gave permission to go? Brat)

'Please, mommy, not infront of them'

'salte, miguel' (get out, Miguel)

And as the good boy he is, he obeys.

A couple of minutes of your teasing is all it takes for him to cum in front of everyone.

Surprisingly no one noticed were their scary boss weird behavior comes from and they tried to ignored it.

'Good boy' you whisper closer to his now very warm face

He looks at you flustered, proud and surprised of his good behaviour and acting skills.

------------------------------------- • 🍒

Love y'all, if there's any bad grammar please let me know 😭. (Requests are open)

#sub miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #hispanic reader #fem reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x f!reader #subbmisive #subby men #learn spanish #miguel o'hara #fluff miguel O'Hara #fem civilian reader

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tarjapearce · 1 month

Text

El Diablo Wears Prada (Pt.3)

Mafia boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Smut, Fingering, non-con oral (M! receiving), masturbation, power play, sexual tension, mild angst, Dom! Miguel.

Summary: Another toll is put on your shoulders.

A/N: Centuries later, here's part 3! Hope you like <3. Feedback much appreciated. Cooper Coen belongs to Marvel ✨

As much as you wanted to remain in Morpheus' arms and let your body rest until it reached a hundred percent, the constant buzzing of the tracking device against your ankle kept alerting you.

The last vibration had bolted you awake with a startle. Body whined in protest at the sudden movement that took such a strong hold on your hips, the juncture of your arms and thighs.

It took you a couple of seconds to get your bearings and see the little and borderline fancy tracking device on your ankle. It was as if a digital watch had been locked up around your smooth skin.

A little jolt of electricity ran through your nerves in a clear sign to not mess with the device, since you had tried to remove it. If you looked closer, it had a little password lock behind, a four-digit code.

You gotta be kidding me

How dared he putting such a thing on you? When did he put this thing on you?, but more important, was he still around? Cause if he was, he'd have a piece of your mind.

His sweater on your skin felt a too stuffy, and you needed a bath. A couple of bruises begun appearing in your ankles and the fatty part of your thighs cause obviously he needed to make sure you understood the magnitude of your current situation and how Massimo had willingly put a target ring on your back.

The buzz however snapped you out of the spiralling trance of thoughts that assaulted your mind. Brows puckered as you made your way towards his room but as soon as you entered, anger sapped away for a moment from your head.

The curtains were drawn shut, their dark colors provided enough darkness to isolate the brightest sunshines that tried with all their might to seep past them and take a hold of whatever thing they could reach.

With careful steps and a petty heart you sauntered over the windows and one by one removed the curtains, letting all the sun's ablaze glory to illuminate the darkened room in a go, even if it meant for you to be blindsided for a second before you turned your back on the light and saw the results of your anger display before you.

El Diablo, laid sprawled in his ever big and cozy bed, his right and sharp cheek smooshed against the soft and silky burgundy sheets that wrapped like a second skin on his torso and legs. One of his feet poked out from underneath, letting itself to hang outside the smooth prison.

His gorgeous mouth laid slightly ajar, letting a little drool streak to escape him and get long dry over the sheets. The smooth locks with the little silver strands in it were also sprawled all over his forehead and the mattress. Your eyes shamelessly raked his back. Big, well worked, perfect for leaving scratches and marks. He had none of those, but a different one.

A red lips silhouette located a few inches from his ear, half of it smeared, as if wrongly or quickly wiped, trying to cover up a trail.

The fact he had someone before giving you a rough fuck, not only put a little familiar yet painful stab in your heart, but returned the angry thoughts that initially gave you enough courage to foray into the devil's personal hellhole.

The pain felt like an old friend now that you had seen and heard the type of man Massimo really was. You didn't want to admit that there were times you could still feel a woman's perfume on his clothes while busying yourself in the confinement of your manor, trying to distract yourself from the emerging distraught of knowing your husband was possibly cheating.

Men

With a scowl, you took one of the many pillows and threw it at his beautiful sleeping face.

"Wake up!"

That quickly contorted into several emotions upon suddenly awakening. Surprise cause you had dared startle him, anger because you had the guts to interrupt his slumber and throw a pillow and finally, annoyance at your yapping.

Your arms crossed against your chest as he placed the pillow you threw his direction on t of his head with a bored grunt.

The smell of his perfume wafted through the air, hand in hand with a light natural musk and a dash of air freshener coming from the bathroom.

"What the fuck is this on my ankle and why did you put that thing on me?"

"Can you shut up?" His slouching form only turned enough to take a proper look your way once his irises had adjusted at the room's brightness.

Wearing his oversized sweater that covered those perfect mounds of yours he didn't have enough time to squeeze properly. Face twisted in a scowl, that although he rather your scared and demure look, he had to admit this angry you made his lips smirk and a spark of excitement to run through his body.

Your hair spooked and tussled even if you were now trying to contain it in a messy bun while ignoring the rebellious baby hairs, revealing more of your upset features.

Beautiful and angry.

Was this the sight you gifted Massimo every day?

"I'm talking to you!"

"¡Ya pues! Cállate... fucking heard you already." He grumbled while laying down on his back.

But in truth he hadn't heard a single word it came from your mouth. Too deep in suddenly remembering last night's events and what had transpired back in the club.

"Take this thing off me."

"No."

Miguel stretched his spine with feline grace and a satisfied smirk, letting some joints pop back into place. His spine wasn't aching anymore, he didn't feel like dragging the past few weeks' tiring load, his shoulders felt rather light, he was even in good spirits. You had spent him real good last night.

"What is this anyway?"

You remained on the window, letting the sun warm you up a bit. The whole floor was cold anyway. Your hands grope on either side of your waist and your frown deepened upon him turning his back on you.

"Fucking men."

He smirked as you went to his closet. He noted you only wore the thick sweaters. You didn't rummage through his clothes and personal items like he initially thought.

"I need to get some things back from home."

With a groan he finally rose, and sat against the bed's oak frame, his hands reached for his phone, and scrolled through his messages as his other hand slicked the messy strands that partially obscured his sight.

"Are you even listening?!"

"I'd rather not to."

He grumbled while his eyes remained on the screen.

"I need to get myself some clothes. I don't wanna keep using yours for you to have me naked later."

"You're thinking way too high of yourself, Ratoncita." He removed the silky sheets and tossed his phone somewhere in the bed, revealing his bare physique to you as he prowled your way.

Eyes boring on your tense form. Undoubtedly he was the cat and you his ever lovely and amusing little mouse. One of his hands landed a few inches on one side of your face, but as soon as you tried to remove yourself from the equation, his other hand and a step forward of his frame closed the space, sandwiching you loosely between him and the wall.

Even if limp, his cock felt above the sweater's fabric, right above your lower belly, ever warm and hefty. He had to lean down enough to face you, then took a half firm half gentle hold in your chin.

"If you have the energies to be mewling this early in the morning, you can take your pretty ass to the shower, clean yourself and get changed. We'll leave soon. ¿Entendido?

"I'm not coming-"

He squeezed your chin, igniting that spark of fury within you as he growled between teeth, "Understood?"

His tone left no space for replies. But you slapped his hand away and retreated away from his confinement, but the petty in him needed to have the final saying. Even though words were done, he took your actions as a defiance. So he returned it, on your butt as a firm slap that smacked deliciously in the air.

You didn't even turned to face him. Anger was too much in your mind to let it have the whole control over your emotional panel, and part of you assumed that he'd settle the score to his favor with another rough fuck.

Men.

Your hands clenched into tight fists to finally disappear into the bathroom with a loud slam on the door.

As much as he wanted to yell for the poor treatment on his property, he couldn't help but smirk, satisfied at your reaction.

Part of his brain was amused to no end to see this new emotion in you. Anger made his senses tingle. But the ever rational part of his gray mass, wondered what had taken over you to be this pissed.

Hadn't he fucked you silly last night? Cause he refused to believe he had done a poor job.

The sudden thought of him underperforming in bed made his bushy brows to pucker in annoying concern. He'd take many insults, name calling, but someone, a woman specially saying he was bad at in bed? No. He couldn't allow it.

He heard the shower run, and it was his cue to get his clothes ready.

He'd go for a pair of black pants, a burgundy Prada button shirt, socks, dress shoes, no tie neither a suit, Day was too humid to be overdressed.

The shower stopped a couple of minutes later, and he put all the things on the bed.

You had finished a hot shower, rinsing all trace of him, wrapped your hair in a towel and pat dried your body to then wear one of his many black sweaters and slippers, the only thing you truly possessed.

Upon seeing nothing but his toothbrush and grooming devices, you rummaged through the marbled drawers to look for a new toothbrush. You'd eventually find them next to a neatly arranged box of condoms and some gun chargers. But to your surprise the box was intact, sealed even, waiting to be used.

With a roll if your eyes and a huff, you got to brush your teeth, a little harder than intended.

Miguel simply entered the bathroom and slowly squeezed his way into the same space as you before the mirror, pushing you softly as you brushed your hair with your fingers.

He looked in the mirror, the grayish hue on his cheeks increased, but he kept it. Not really feeling like grooming himself. His happy trail was on full display to you.

If honest, it was the first time you actually paid attention to the secrets of his skin.

A couple of scars littered his cinnamon tan and muscled skin, bullet marks? perhaps. The muscles rippled at every movement, enhancing the sight of his lower back's dimples, waist narrow and sharp, adorned with well-worked abs and sculpted thighs. There were no tattoos on his skin as he rather keep himself clean from them.

His mere existence spoke loud and clear, he didn't need ink to prove his prowess. Plus, he considered himself too old for them.

Gabriel on the other hand was like a walking board underneath his clothes. Or a bathroom stall's wall like he once called him.

Your stomach grumbled loudly, and he chuckled.

"Instead of staring, why don't you get some food? You'll need it."

He grabbed his toothbrush and put a dollop of paste on it. Voice smooth like butter, that barely did a good job at hiding the rising mirth. But his lid twitched, vexed on your mimicking words

"You're thinking too highly of yourself."

You pointed at his neck.

"And make sure to properly clean yourself from others before even considering touching me."

His smirk widened and held your wrist with enough force to make you whimper. Miguel finished washing and rinsing his mouth to then pull you by your nape and crashing his mouth on yours.

You froze as he made you taste the fresh and cool flavor of mint in his mouth. When he pulled away, a sardonic smile plastered all over his infuriating yet beautiful face. He didn't give you time to reply as you were being pushed out the bathroom and before you could even give him again a peace of mind; he slammed the door in your face.

"Asshole!"

He chuckled as you yelled behind the door and finally got to shower.

----

After a hearty breakfast and some more calls from Miguel, you and the rest got into the cars and left.

Ben, the blond man drove the SUV again. Jessica was tailing after in her own car as another car with a lanky and pierced man lead the way.

Buildings and skyscrapers of all sizes and colors passed you by, streets were averagely full, but Ben drove through shortcuts that approached faster towards your secret destination.

Miguel had refused to speak after you recoiled away from his sudden urge of teasing you. He deliberately ignored you through the road, focusing occasionally on his phone screen.

"We're here, boss." Ben mumbled after what it felt like forever.

The little caravan had stopped before a bright red three floored building. Dark windows prevented the sunlight to seep in. The name, Casa Cisneros displayed in a Dior alike typography over the red walls.

Your eyes widened when you saw the gorgeous, elegant and colorful clothing designs neatly arranged in the window's showcase.

Miguel guided your surprised self deeper into the boutique. A man around his forties, white hair, shorter than Miguel, dressed up in an orange suit and a shit-eating grin came to greet Miguel.

"Por Dios, te juro que si vienes con esa mierda de zapatos de Prada ni me molestaré en atenderte." (I swear that if you've come with those shitty Prada shoes I won't even bother in help you out.)

Miguel chuckled while shaking his head. Then hugged the man briefly yet sincerely.

"How have you been Mateo?"

"¿Cómo que 'How you've been?'" His disgust couldn't hide, "Ugh. Never mind, where is Dana? Can't wait to dress her up in my new collection!."

Your brow quirked upon the woman's name but Miguel just dismissed him with a disdainful wave of his hands and a blasé scowl.

"Ah... Ya veo. En fín, whose the new seasonal fling?"

Mateo, the owner, or so you supposed, fixed his eyes your way and smirked approvingly as he watched you from head to toes.

"Nothing better and exciting than a blank canvas." he then turned to Miguel, "The same as usual?"

The same as... what?

You looked at Miguel and the mob lord shook his head while focusing once more in his phone

He dialed some numbers to place the trinket in his ear, "Up to her."

He mumbled before disappearing into another room. Mateo however grinned upon you being given a carte blanche from his best client. Cause that meant money.

"So... What do you want?"

"Uh... The basics I believe?"

This earned him a giggle.

"Preciosa. Hermosa, muñeca. Listen to me. And listen well.", He waved a warning finger at you, "Basic is not in this fashion's house vocabulary. Secondly, if Miguel brings you here is cause, he wants you to look good and not embarrass him. I know it sounds awful, but if you're with him-"

"I'm not." Your frown deepened and Mateo just rolled his eyes.

"Of course you aren't. Anyway, I'll give you a wardrobe. Let's go. Cooper!"

He called and soon a tall, young and redhead man approached. His green eyes lit up upon the task ahead.

"This is Cooper Coen, my assistant. He'll be helping us today."

The young man greeted, and soon they began working.

Mostly of the pieces the both picked suited perfectly on your body, every curve lavished and worshipped with utter care. But you also noticed that as beautiful as it all was, the crafts were easy to remove. As if Mateo knew the purpose behind everything he donned you with.

Cooper kept packing and bringing clothes that not only enhanced your body shape, but made you look like a spoiled rich man's wife. Elegant, beyond gorgeous, expensive and oh so tempting and fuckable.

Mateo seemed delighted in having you as his personal doll, trying outfit after outfit. Miguel had left to business but Jessica remained behind to look after you.

Hours kept passing, and you moved to the undergarments. You were too focused in getting the underwear you had missed for so long that didn't hear Miguel returning.

You wouldn't ruin him financially, sadly, but as Cooper had told you, it wasn't going to go be cheap either. And if your intuition wasn't failing, you knew something didn't add up. Not that you weren't grateful to finally have your own clothes to wear, but deep in your brain, the ever rational and alert part of it kept telling you to be wary. To not trust Miguel.

What is he hiding?

----

Miguel had to leave for a couple of minutes to have an impromptu meeting with Peter back at the club for more Intel gathering. Apparently a clue on Massimo's whereabouts came up and he left you with Jessica.

But upon returning and seeing the amount of packages and the count ascending past the fifty grand, he called you.

Money wasn't an issue for him, but the amount of unnecessary shoes that you or rather Mateo had made him wonder how many pair of shoes a woman truly needed.

Never enough apparently.

He called you once, but Cooper showed up instead.

"She'll be here soon, Mr. O'Hara."

The young man nodded as Miguel huffed.

It reminded him the too many times he took women for shopping and always ended up like this. Bored out of his mind, sometimes pissed at the constant questions they asked him.

Do I look fat? Does this color matches my skin?

He sighed, irked but somehow ready to ignore the flood of questions you'd annoy him with.

Much to his dismay, minutes kept stretching impossibly longer and he had things to do and places to be at. He called you again.

No response.

His jaw tensed as his teeth ground together. He immediately took his phone and searched on the tracking device location.

Signal Lost

"Pinche mujer" He growled as he bolted gun in hand towards where you had been, Heart pounding with such an intense anger it felt like molten lava flowing through him. 1Jessica was helping Mateo, unaware of what was to unfold.

Heavy and livid steps guided him towards the dressing rooms. He swung the curtain, ready to look for clues as to where you had left, only to find you, struggling with adjusting the back straps of the lingerie Cooper had handed over to you.

"¿¡Qué no oyes cuando te hablo?! ¿'Tas pinche sorda o qué?" (Didn't you hear me when I'm talking to you?! You fucking deaf or what?!)

His sudden outburst startled you while your frightened gaze settled on him and it quickly turned angered.

"What the fuck?! I'm changing!" You were about to keep up with his yelling when his gun stood high and proud in the air. Silencing your babbling with an unintelligible grumble.

"What was that?" With a scowl he glowered your way. Your tongue clicked, ignoring him.

His eyes couldn't help but rake your body for some brief seconds to finally settling on the tracking device. The thing was off.

"What did you do to it?!" He growled while pushing you against the mirror and kneeled to grab your ankle and see with his own eyes why the device wasn't working.

Updating 40%

Of course the damned thing would be updating. His nostrils flared angrily as you yanked your limb away from his grasp.

"Hurry the fuck up, I don't have all day."

He let you go and headed towards the entrance.

"Che palle! Lasciami in pace un attimo, stronzo!" (How annoying! Leave me alone for a second, you asshole!)

And oh his head turned in many dangerous and dark thoughts. It wasn't the words you used, he couldn't care less about them, but the fact alone you still had bits of Massimo still clinging to you.

If honest, you only had learned some phrases in the attempt to rekindle things with your husband, it somehow worked, but this was a completely different outcome you truly weren't expecting.

In a blink of an eye he was already before you, red eyes glowering your way, a steely grip on his gun.

"The fuck did you say?"

You had to recoil away, but where? He had trapped you again against the mirrors, your fear etched in every face the multiple surfaces provided and it fuelled him.

A thick gulp rolled down your throat as his gun's tip placed underneath your chin to drag down between your breast to stop right above your heart, tapping a tad rough with it.

"If you wanna act like a spoiled brat, fine." he seethed as he pushed you on your knees in a swift move, the sudden movement had you stumbling down, startled "I'll teach you a fucking lesson."

His other hand immediately went to your front strands, tangling his long fingers in them, your hands immediately flew to his wrist, grunting uncomfortably at the tight grip on your skull, trying to pry yourself away from him. You could feel his anger through the little tremors his body did as he tossed the gun to the seat inside the little cubicle.

"Let me go!" he pulled your head back, parting your lips open in the way.

"Since you fucking love opening your pretty mouth to disrespect me," His hold tightened on your hair as his hands fumbled with the belt of his pants, sliding his free hand past the layers of clothing and pulled out his engorging cock. A few pumps of his hand around it had it twitching to life.

"I think it's time to find a proper use for it, hmm?" Before you could even protest, his flushed tip was already invading your mouth. A hiccup escaped you while he pushed in inch by inch, earning a brief gag and gurgle from you.

A satisfied growl escaped his smirking mouth.

"What's wrong? Cat's fucking your tongue?"

He stepped in closer, your nose nuzzled his happy trail as he was now holding your hair in a fistful. A sharp tinge of tears blurred your eyes for a moment as he slid down your throat. Your hands slapped his thighs while trying to push him back, earning him a breathless moan. You had tested his patience long enough for him to snap and remind you of your position.

If he had known how easy and quick you'd learn how to get under his skin, he would've left you back with your rotten husband.

Upon sensing you gag again, he chuckled while sliding some of his fingers underneath your chin, guiding you slowly to take him properly.

"Fucking relax." He heaved when your mouth flattened around him to have air flowing back to your lungs.

Fucking gorgeous. That's how you looked, staring with your pretty and angry eyes while you choked on him, set a long forgotten thrill alive that he rather keep buried for good.

You coughed as soon as he slid out, completely hard, glistening in your saliva and beads of pre cum that connected to the corners of your flushed mouth.

"Uh-uh. Open up, I'm not done yet."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and coughed a couple of bits; the glare returned to your eyes.

"Fuck you."

Miguel huffed, crouched and took your chin to kiss you, tasting himself. You bit his lip, hard trying to get him to free you, but the growl grumbling through his chest only made your skin crawl as his tongue slid in your mouth, also invading you.

The sheer size of his frame and the little space between sandwiched you, deliciously against him. One hand cradled your head, not giving you a truce while devouring your lips as the other one slid down between your legs.

The sudden contact sent jolts up your spine, as he changed the cradling on your nape to a light squeeze on your neck as he pressed you against the floor, and spread your legs with his teasing hand when you trapped his hand in between your thighs, preventing him from reaching deeper.

The motions had slowly made his cock to be trapped again in the fabric confinement.

He earned a feeble mewl as he slid two of his fingers inside. The vibrations of your purring reverberated underneath his skin made his eager tip to twitch again

His phone buzzed and he let your throat go for a second, but his fingers remained inside, massaging and wriggling softly within your flesh.

"Not a peep from you, ok? This is an important call."

Your hands immediately clenched and your thighs trembled when he moved his hand, back and forth, delving into your drenching walls.

Heat licking at every pore of your skin. You didn't know if it was in anger or your hormones betraying you once again. The lack of sex with Massimo was costing your dignity big time.

He's just toying with you cause he knows he can.

Your mind reasoned, despite the rationality's grip loosening at his ministrations.

"Ya le dije a Gabriel que procediera sin contratiempos." (I already told Gabriel to proceed without problems)

He talked and moved his hand like the most natural thing to do while in a call.

Shame washed over your cheeks at the raunchy and sloppy wet noises your cunt made the more he probed your insides.

"No, no-"

You hissed and his eyes went immediately on you, as if with his glare alone he'd be defying you to make a noise again.

Your lips pursed shut as your chest heaved with ragged yet quiet breaths

"I've got it under control."

More than a reply to whoever he was talking to, his words were a fact. An undisputed truth that clawed at your brain the deeper he stimulated with his fingers.

He was on control. Of you, your body and every bit that formed it, of every contraction that sucked and trapped his fingers, of every breath he made you exhale.

His pace increased, and you choked while your body trembled at the beat of his thrusting fingers. A satisfied smirk crept up to his face, determined to break your forceful silent vow.

He's worse than Massimo. Don't forget that.

The hardened nub of your breast peeked underneath the flimsy fabric, swaying, demanding to be tasted.

His initial resolution of not making a physical approach, had been long broken, ever since you insulted him in that foreign language that certainly sparked things within his mind he rarely liked to indulge thinking.

You amused him, that was much true. But God you also made him so fucking angry. Running your mouth like you were his equal, facing him despite being scared to the core and spending his energies in such a delicious way he only sought whenever stress was eating him alive and none so far had properly known how to sate. Not even Dana.

The only serious relationship prospect he had so far until she cheated on him and he had to get rid of her.

But you, He didn't know if to kill you himself or fuck you 'til you were in tears.

Your mouth parted in a pornographic 'o', gasping quietly, eyes shut, face covered in a deep shade of red, hands clenched into fists on the floor as your body swayed underneath.

"Let me see what I can do." He crooned as his golden chain around his neck dangled with his motions.

His eyes kept glued onto your face as he slowly rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against your neglected clit in a tortuous and flickering motion.

You bit your lip, and he smirked darkly. Slowly, he pushed in a third finger as he applied a bit more of pressure on your already sensitive and engorged nub

Think about the condom box!

Your toes curled in, body contorted in between gentle twitches and jerks when he grazed ever softly and teasingly at your sweet spot. A soft and barely audible gasp escaped your mouth. And his breath hitched as soon as you locked eyes with him in a glare.

How dare he?

He moved in and out, alternating between fucking his fingers inside and caress your bundle of nerves for enough time to edge you.

"I know. Hmm." He nodded at whatever words Peter gave him, "You're more than capable of handling it."

It felt like he was encouraging you through the whole process.

He's not in control.

One of his fingers grazed into a spot that got your hips stuttering and shaking your head as your teeth sunk deeper into the plump of your bottom lip, jaw tense but unable to trap in a garbled moan. You felt like a hypocrite.

"Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine."

The way your walls increased their drenching with every contraction on his digits, had him tittering silently in twisted delight.

At this point it was a matter of seconds to have you coming undone. He was set into making you break the rules. Your toes curled and trembled as he fastened the pace enough to have a soft squishing slap echoing just for him.

El Diablo tilted his head as you clawed your nails on his ankle, it barely tickled him.

"All he has to do is to agree. Offer him more money if that's the case."

With clinical precision he stopped a few seconds before you got to come undone and trap him inside. A frustrated and shallow whine flew out your mouth. His thumb pad was now tracing the outline of your lips, to then slid two of his drenched fingers into your mouth.

"All he has to say is yes." He moved his hand, making your head bob in a nod as he spoke. Your taste exploding into your mouth.

With little he just retreated outside the cubicle to return a few minutes later with a plain pair of pants and a shirt. He hung the call up and sighed.

" Now that you've learnt how to shut the fuck up, get changed. We need to go."

With trembling legs you stood, trying to catch your breath, the lingerie soiled, your thighs sticky. Heart and pussy played like a fancy tailed piano and he was the main musician.

He fixed his clothes, despite the raging boner pulsating between his clothes. He looked at you for a moment, nose reddening, lips flushed and glossy eyes that turned aqueous the more he remained in there.

His brows pinched softly in an imperceptible frown before leaving you alone. Not really wanting to witness your sudden discomfit.

What had came over you?

----

Ever since he woke up that day there were so many changes he had barely had time to adjust. But this quiet and distant you was unsettling and uncomfortable for him.

First the need to cry after he almost gave you an orgasm, then, the silent ride back at home.

You barely glanced his way when explaining the dress you needed to wear for the party he was also changing into. But what frustrated him the most was when he asked you to remove the ring out of your finger. The urge to cry returned on your face.

He truly didn't understand why you still clung so blindly to Massimo. At this point he thought it was love.

He huffed, disgusted.

You wouldn't drag him to your emotional rollercoaster cause he already had his own. And there was an enough mess as it was to keep adding to his plate.

He was proud of his detachment skills, soon you'd return to that asshole you called a husband and he wouldn't have to worry about you anymore, cause again, he was growing tired of facing other emotions that weren't the ones he could master.

No matter how gorgeous and fuckable you looked in that backless and sequin golden dress that undoubtedly did a better job at treating your body than him.

You had to apply some makeup to the most visible bruises around your body. Neck included. He loved squeezing it apparently.

Miguel had removed the tracking device of your ankle to disguise it as a clock on your wrist. He looked handsome as usual.

In truth, you looked like a celebrity. It made you wonder what kind of party you headed to, but you refused to speak to him and he was more than happy to not be bothered.

Each sat in opposite corners in the car. Not saying a word during the ride. The only instruction he gave you was to stay close as he hugged your waist, although weakly, with his hand.

Nostalgia was rampant on you today, and it didn't help the not so clandestine reunion harbored within a familiar milieu for you.

A fancy club, L'Enfer, you once had the chance of visiting. Your engagement night, and returning after so many years in extremely different circumstances, tightened the knot around your throat and the need to run away to increase tenfold.

Golden floors matched the velvet curtains that protected the black windowsills from prying eyes. The tables pristinely arranged to the left and right, ready to witness its attendee's darkest and deepest secrets.

Servers were dressed in jet black suits and red gloves, offering the myriad of delicacies prepared for the night.

Some men stared at Miguel, apprehension and wariness in their eyes. Others smirked and raised their champagne cups as he made his way deeper into the place. Peter walked ahead, Miguel and you followed, and Jessica tailed behind, yet his agents scattered all over the place, either as servers or valets, even bartenders.

Miguel wore his usual frown, occasionally changing into a deadpan whenever a fan of his work approached.

Miguel entered to a further room, more private and secluded. The smell of tobacco and expensive perfumes polluted the air, assaulting your nose at once.

You downed the discomfort with a cup of champagne.

"Try to not drink too much. Need you sober for the meeting."

A meeting?

You quirked a brow at his mumbles but nodded and remained seated near the indoor font, the least tobacco smelling place from the rest and the same place Massimo proposed. Now, you were eating the different entrees, balancing the alcohol ingest in a mob lord party, you realized too late.

Jessica remained on your side, also eating whenever a snack she liked passed by. Peter accompanied Miguel as he greeted and exchanged a few words with the other people.

Orborn, Kravinoff or Kraven for short, Olivia Octavius, and other men didn't ring a bell on you.

"Let Miguel do the whole talking. In fact, act as the listener. And if Kraven calls you beautiful, don't say thanks. He'd think he can hit on you and the least Miguel needs-"

"Is worrying for stupid shit. I know."

The sweetness of the mini desserts and other assorted flavors didn't help to conceal the tart tasting in your mouth. Jessica quirked a brow and nodded.

"You're adapting quick. That's good. But despite having a ten grand dress on you with matching shoes and gold in your ears, you look like you're about to cry. What the hell is wrong now?"

Tough love was all you got from her, but it also surprised you how perceptive and unsuspecting she could be.

"Everything."

Jessica rolled her eyes and sighed, adding another lemon curd mini tart in your plate. One you hadn't had before.

"What in specific? Is it... That guy, your husband?"

Jessica smacked her lips with her gaze fixed on you, scrutinizing within your eyes upon your sudden silence.

"You're really hung up on that asshole, aren't you?"

"It's not that. And I'm not even sure about my feelings on Massimo. I want to punch him in the face for lying to me, but I also I want to know he's alright, so I can... pass page."

Your shoulders slumped as you heaved, defeated, "And Miguel is no better. It feels like they'd be secretly competing against eachother whose worse."

Jessica grunted with a silent titter and shook her head.

"He's blunt and an asshole, undoubtedly. Despite that, I'd stick in Miguel's side, he'll make sure you're safe in his own way."

"Just wished he'd be less cryptic whenever I ask for answers."

"Again, he's protecting you."

"From what? From himself?"

"No. From the troubles your man dragged you to, honey."

"Ugh" You rolled your eyes, the last thing you needed right now was to be reminded how awful Massimo was, "Just forget it. I feel anxious enough as it is."

"What do you mean?"

"I... I have a bad feeling."

-----

You sat next to Miguel and carefully listened. The mobster's voice occasionally drowned the cutlery's tinkling out.

Topics had varied through the night, from luxury cars and ways to armor them, weapon hiding and smuggling, to your current predicament. Massimo.

"Kingpin is looking for him, his wife has gone MIA, which is convenient. Bitch's smart. The guy could learn a thing or two from her."

"He ratted out Delgado with the FBI. His associate! Wouldn't surprise me if he'd sell out his family to save his skin." The man called Harry Osborn spoke as he downed his whiskey.

"Da. My associates have gathered Intel, he hasn't left the country still."

You gulped thickly the more the men spoke. If seeing with your own hands what your husband had created wasn't enough, hearing it straight from the horse's mouth only crushed your heart even further.

"What about you, Diablo?"

"Max owes me money."

Many just hissed while contorting their faces disapprovingly.

"How much?"

"Four Million."

"Poor bastard sold his soul to you, didn't he?" Olivia Octavius mumbled between sardonic and titters.

Miguel downed his whiskey as your hands clawed on the golden sequins of the dress.

"What kind of fucked up woman marries a guy like that? She's desperate or corrupt as he is."

Olivia spat and a few nodded.

"Heard he was fooling her this whole time."

"Ahh, C'mon, Miguel. Didn't know you fell for such things."

Miguel just shrugged, then he lit up a vanilla and cherry cigarette to blow the smoke away from you.

"I'm giving people the benefit of doubt still. But I'll find him."

"You'll kill him?"

"Gotta collect my reaps first."

The men and Olivia grinned, everyone seemed pleased but you. It had been a good deal of information to swot on, so many to digest your stomach had turned queasy.

You were about to stand up, feeling the bile and nausea rising, that registered too late the acute ring piercing through your eardrums so badly after a powerful loud bang. Unable to move, frozen in the spot.

Everything felt in muted slow motion, some droplets of something warm and wet fell on your face, spraying you. You saw the group pulling out their guns one by one as Harry Osborn fell with a seemingly loud thud on the table.

Why isn't he moving?

Your heart pounded in your ears, throat constricted, and when you tried to scream nothing but a mute yell came out. A strong tanned hand pulled you down, as more loud bangs kept echoing, like distant fireworks underneath water.

Guns were sparkling with every shot they fired, people fell on the floor, staining the golden surface with crimson as the walls around received an ugly hole-themed makeover.

You could see Miguel grabbing your shoulders, shaking you while his mouth moved angrily as he pulled his gun away and kept you secured tightly underneath his frame.

Chaos had broke loose. And you weren't sure you'd live up to tell.

-----

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#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #el diablo wears prada #miguel o'hara smut

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mafiaanomaly · 3 months

Text

"Sugar"

DI!Sugar Daddy!Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader Contents: Established exclusive relationship, age-gap (if u squint), bribing, SMUT, BDSM, oral (m and f receiving), bondage, choking, hair pulling, fingering, overstimulation, edging, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex, mating press, Miguel is a total dom (Let me know if I missed anything!) Summary: Miguel unintentionally let's his jealousy get the best of him. He wants to teach you a lesson, but how much would that cost?

Miguel O'hara who doesn't normally get jealous.

He hardly ever has to, seeing as you usually immediately shut down anyone's advances.

But today, while at a cafe you both enjoy, he watched as some guy who looked to be around the same age as you dropped smooth pick-up line after smooth pick-up line.

You, seemingly, missed the hints. You'd smiled at him, giggled and gently pat his arm.

Miguel could do nothing but stare, eyes burning holes in the back of the man's head as he slips his number toward you.

His jaw drops when you take it and place the piece of paper in your purse with a smile.

Oh, now he's seething.

The two of you leave the cafe hand in hand, leaving the poor guy confused, and Miguel remains silent the rest of the trip home.

Now, to be fair, you knew what you were doing.

Of course you'd noticed the guy's horrible attempts at flirting with you. You just wanted to see how Miguel would react.

And it looked like he wasn't taking it well...

The moment you step into his house, Miguel slams the door shut behind you.

You ignore him, humming a tune as you make your way to the kitchen.

"Nuh-uh. We need to talk."

Your lips twitch with a smile. "Whatever about?"

You feel him before you see him.

He stands behind you, hard chest pressed against your back as his hands grab onto the counter, effectively caging you in.

His chest heaves with heavy, controlled breaths. "I didn't like that little act you pulled, amor." His words are gritted through his teeth, as if he's having a hard time holding himself back.

This is just too easy.

You turn to face him, placing a hand on his chest and looking up at him with the prettiest pout. "What act, Miggy?"

The glare on his face lasts for only a second before a shiver runs down his spine, brought on by your hand that suddenly begins to travel down his chest.

You watch with wide eyes and a bitten lip as his jaw drops open, eyes darting down to catch a glimpse of you gently running a palm over the slight tent in his pants.

And with a sigh, he surrenders.

His body relaxes as you silently work him through his slacks, your breaths mingling and body temperatures rising.

Miguel's lips hover right over yours, pink and parted in pleasure as soft moans rumble from the back of his throat. "Pull it out."

You do just that, using both hands to unzip his jeans and tug his cock free.

It sits pretty and waiting, tip flushed pink and veins peeking through the skin.

He is truly a work of art.

You almost whimper, drool nearly escaping your lips at the sight of his intimidating length and girth as you pump him slowly, teasingly. Enough to make him needy and restless.

You smile when his hips jerk to meet the movements of your hand. "I'm sorry, my love. Was there something you wanted?"

He groans when you squeeze him around the base, nails lightly digging in. "Your mouth. Give it to me-"

You gasp, feigning shock as your hand completely stops. Miguel immediately curses, pulling his head from you neck and thrusting his hips toward you desperately. But you only smile at him.

"Now now, Mr. O'hara. You know I don't do this shit for free."

You raise a brow, crossing your arms under your chest and staring at him in expectance.

He huffs a breath before feeling around his pockets and grabbing his wallet.

He pulls out two one-hundred-dollar bills and places them on the counter. "Happy?"

You roll your eyes. "C'mon now. What's that gonna do? Pay half my car bill?"

"Fuckin'-" He pulls out four more of the bills, slapping them in the pile. "There's $600 for now-"

7 more bills. "And $700 for the next 2 hours," He throws the wallet to the floor and steps impossibly closer to you, hand reaching around and roughly tugging your hair to force your head back. "You can get the rest later. Now are you gonna stop being a fucking brat, or are you gonna be my good girl and get on your knees?"

The bratty attitude fades, satisfied in getting what you'd wanted, yet slightly fearful of the punishment to come.

He lets go of your hair as you slowly slide down to your knees, all while keeping eye contact with him.

His gaze sets your body on fire. Skin burning hot with the tension between the two of you.

His chest heaves with every breath, eyes wide and never blinking as you wrap your hand around his length once again.

You give a few teasing strokes, relishing in the way his breaths stutter and his hands grip the countertop behind you, hips jerking forward just a little in impatience.

Ignoring the throbbing ache between your legs, you lean forward, tongue outstretched, and lick from base to tip.

The muscles in his arms flex, veins threatening to pop as his grip on the counter tightens. A strangled groan leaves his lips, prompting you to latch your lips to the tip of his length, gently sucking and running your nails along the underside of his dick.

You're unprepared for when he suddenly thrusts his hips, forcing your head against the side of the counter and shoving his cock into your throat.

You choke, surprised, as he grabs a fistful of your hair. "You wanna act like a money driven whore, I'll treat you like one."

You're completely at his mercy.

He watches as you whine, whimper, and sputter around his cock, spit and drool dribbling down your chin.

Watches as your body betrays you, hips grinding into the floor to find any source of relief.

Watches as tears begin to fall from your eyes with every merciless thrust into your filthy mouth.

Your hands cling to his thighs, nails digging little crescent marks into his skin.

You manage to calm yourself down, breathing through your nose and hollowing your cheeks as he hits the back of your throat with every jerk of his hips.

His pace is borderline brutal, one hand gripping the counter and the other deep in your hair, pushing your head forward to meet his hips.

He suddenly grunts, spreading his legs wider and pushing impossibly deeper. "Jesus Christ- I'm so fucking close-"

A gag slips, your throat raw and begging for this to end. But you ignore it, watching the face of your boyfriend contrast and shift as the ending of his pleasure (for the first round) gets closer and closer.

His lips parted, mumbled praises and degrading names falling from them in a rush of hazy lust. Eyes clenched shut as his brown hair sticks to his forehead. "Shit-"

And when he moans huskily and nearly suffocates you with how deeply he pushed down your throat, cumming so much you can't keep all of it in your mouth, you know you're in big trouble.

He slowly comes down from his high, chest shuddering with every breath.

He slips out of your mouth, limp and light red.

His hand grips your jaw, angling your face up to see you better. He sees the white streaks at the corners of your lips and sighs. "Open."

You obey, cheeks flushed and lips puffy as you look away, ashamed.

Empty.

Miguel smirks. "Naughty girl..."

Your back arches, frustrated whines and whimpers falling from your open mouth.

Your body jerks in desperation with every deep stroke of his tongue, hands bound to the headboard above your head by your panties.

For the past who knows how long, Miguel's head has been between your thighs.

His tongue slides along your clit, fingers pumping into your weeping pussy as you can do nothing but cry out to him.

But he remains relentless, continuously bringing you close to your orgasm only to stop short the minute you're about to come.

By the 4th time, you're sobbing. You fight his grip on your hips, trying to scoot away from him when his fingers graze over your sensitive hole. "No-! I- I can't anymore! Please- Migu-!"

He only hums, large hands pulling your legs apart. His nose skims over your clit and you flinch. He stares into your teary eyes. "I'm not too sure if you deserve to cum yet, amor."

He sighs, blowing air over your glistening folds. "You were such a brat earlier... And then you swallowed all of my cum without asking,"

You cry out when he suddenly bites at the ball of nerves. "You're already being a pretty bad girl. How am I supposed know if you're gonna be good for me now?"

You swallow, giving him your best pout and puppy dog eyes. "I promise! I'll be good- I swear!"

Miguel stares at you impassively, thumbs rubbing small circles into the sides of your thighs.

And for a moment, when he completely pulls away, you think he's going to deny you of your pleasure.

But then he stands from the bed and removes his underwear, the last of his clothing, before crawling on top of you.

You stare at him, gaze dazed, as he grabs his cock and strokes a few times before guiding it between your folds.

You curse, hands falling from the headboard once Miguel finally frees you. You instincivly grip onto his biceps. "I'll hold you to your word, princess."

You scream when he mercilessly thrusts his entire length into you.

If you hadn't fucked him last night, that probably would've hurt a lot more.

He hardly waits before he's ramming into you relentlessly, hands gripping the pillow on either side of your head.

Your noises are unfiltered, loud and needy. But he doesn't seem annoyed by them. If anything, they motivate him.

He groans, sitting up and grabbing your legs from behind the knee, pushing them to meet your chest.

You gasp at the new position, whining and moaning as his cock hits you even deeper. "Fuck! Don't- Don't stop! I'm so close-"

Miguel loses himself, lost in the sounds of your pleasure. Lost in the wet feeling of your cunt. Lost in the overwhelming weight of your being.

He looks down at you, a picture of pure temptation, reaching your hands out to him. Begging him for release with lidded eyes and panting breaths.

You scream when his hand finds its way to your clit, two fingers rubbing circles into the flesh.

And you finally get what you want, having no warning for when you throw your head back and come around him so hard you see stars.

Miguel removes his hand from between the two of you, and you expect this to end with him coming inside you, and then finally being able to sleep...

Those thoughts disappear when his hand is suddenly around your throat.

His grip is tight enough to completely cut off your oxygen.

Your eyes widen and a new wave of slick pours from you.

Miguel hovers over you, lips inches away from yours as you gasp for air.

"I didn't say you could come yet, did I?"

Your heartbeat accelerates.

Shit.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #smut

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