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wyvernest · 5 months

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back massages

pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader

warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping

summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour

"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.

"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"

You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."

"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.

"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.

He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.

But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.

He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.

Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.

"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.

"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-

"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-

"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.

He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.

Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.

"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.

"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."

Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.

"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."

You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.

Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.

"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.

"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"

Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.

Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.

"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.

Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.

Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.

"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.

"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."

Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.

"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.

You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.

The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.

"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.

"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.

In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.

He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Let me give you one too, cariño."

You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.

How could you possibly say no?

You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.

The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.

His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.

Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.

You start feeling your pulse in your neck.

One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.

Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.

"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.

A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.

He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.

“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”

He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.

Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.

“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.

‘Don’t stop.’

Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.

You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.

As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.

A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.

“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”

He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.

He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.

Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.

His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you

You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.

A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.

Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.

“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.

A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.

His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.

It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.

He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.

With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.

You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.

The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.

a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀

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shuploc · 7 months

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Miguel lends himself so well to monochrome pieces

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2009 #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #fan art #art #portrait #artists on tumblr

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brown-spider · 8 months

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Hey is there any evidence from Noir's comics of him being jewish? 👀

Cuz RIPeter wasn't Jewish in ITSV while Peter B is (as evidence by their different wedding scenes), and Gwen's Peter was explicitly raised Christian

We don't get any hints on Noir's religion/lack thereof in ITSV, but Im curious if his comics version had anything? I read them and it wasn't explicitly mentioned i dont think, so Im wondering if theres anything he says or symbols in his house or something that ties him to the jewish faith (im not jewish so i wouldn't know what to look for)

#of course his comics have no bearing on the movie version #im just curious #Spiderverse #Spiderverse 2 #atsv #itsv #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman noir #spider noir #peter benjamin parker #atsv noir #itsv noir #spiderman noir 2009 #eyes without a face #spiderman 2009 #spider speaks

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flwrtalgi · 7 months

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lyla doodles :-)

#across the spiderverse #atsv #lyla spiderverse #lyla spiderman 2099 #astv lyla #lyla fanart #lyla across the spiderverse #lyla atsv #lyla #miguel ohara #spiderman 2009 #spiderman #miguel spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse

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vhvrs · 11 months

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rare moment i finish something

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2009 #dork art #all i got r chibis lately <3

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justcallmejimm · 10 months

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Me for the past week cuz I’m obsessed with this drawing.

#across the spiderverse #art #comics #fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #spider man #spiderman 2009 #atsv art #atsv fanart #miguel o’hara art

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burntortilla · 11 months

Photo

#accross the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #fanart #spiderman 2009 #first time posting fanart #bare with me lol

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parkers-parking-lot · 11 months

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oh my god the new movie was so good GRAAAHHHH

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spiderman 2009 #they are so beautiful #i love these guys #i am gay #super gay #why am i like this

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goblin-spider · 7 months

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#my favourite #patrick ohara #web slinger #miguel ohara #spiderman 2009 #spiderverse #type o negative #october rust #cats #green #pans labyrinth

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foolsocracy · 10 months

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into the noir verse

#the silly x2 #peter benjamin parker #spiderman noir #spider noir #marvel noir #spiderverse #my art #felicia hardy #dont worry pete of earth-90214-2009 i think youre cool #double banned as well #edit:#noirverse #look at that its own tag

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emichevy · 10 months

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Spider-Man Noir: Eyes Without a Face- Comic in a nutshell

HELP THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG- THE BACKGROUND HURT ME

I’ll post the individual frames tomorrow- rn its 3 am and I’m going to BED

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wyvernest · 7 months

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hands on you

pairing: miguel o'hara xf!reader

warnings: perv!miguel, miguel being extra handsy, smut, groping (consensual), established relationship, teasing, pda, public teasing, alcoholic beverages?

summary: miguel can't take his hands off of you in the club

Miguel knew you liked him being overly affectionate in public, just to show everyone how deeply in love with him you are. So deeply, that you couldn't gather one single fuck to give about what others thought.

Sure, there were lines neither of you would ever cross. But there was something so delicious about taking risks that had you more intoxicated than 5 mojitos.

This is why you now find yourself rummaging through your closet, looking for something downright obscene. Something so inviting that would make it hard for Miguel to keep his hands to himself for the whole night.

The two of you had arranged to go clubbing for the first time in what felt like a century. Since both of you preferred 1 on 1 alone time, it was a rarity that one would voice the desire to break out of the usual, intimate, comforting routine.

But this time, you want something filthy. Not soft or private. Something that would bring him to the very brink of despair for being so close, yet so far from it.

"¿Estas lista?" (Are you ready?) You hear the bathroom door open as Miguel steps out into the doorway, a towel around his hips and another in his hands as he aggressively attempts to partially dry his dripping wet hair.

You almost start drooling looking at him in the closet door mirror. This is gonna be fun.

"I'm still thinking." You replied, absentmindedly. Oh how you wish you could just ditch the plans, forget about going out and spend the rest of the evening on his dick. To just give him a familiar shove and watch him lay down on the soft bed, hands roaming your body as you climbed on top of him-

No. You have to stick with the plan. Just for once.

As he blow-dries his hair, you snatch the top and skirt you picked and run downstairs, not wanting him to see you before you get to your destination.

But how you wish you could stay in the bedroom and watch his back muscles flex as he pulls that black shirt over his head, how he looks in the mirror as he fixes his hair. His mere presence made you wet.

You snap out of your reverie, swiftly changing and covering yourself with a nice beige coat. Just as you were done with the last touches in the hallway mirror, Miguel stepped down the stairs.

The black shirt slightly stretches over his muscles, giving you a clear view of his pecs and the outlines of his hard abs. He's sporting beige pants, and you wonder just for a second how obvious a boner would be underneath the thin, creamy material.

The drive to the club is flooded with knowing looks and flirty comments, which again make it hard for you not to abandon ship and fuck him in the driver's seat, pulled over on a nice, dark alley.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" You inquire, faking innocent shock.

He gestures towards your coat, his eyes darting from yours to the clothing item and back to the road.

"I just want to surprise you." You defend yourself, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, brushing a few hair strands behind his ear. You lean into him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek.

You arrive at the club, discarding the coat to leave it in the car. He almost forgets to lock the doors the moment he sees you. Plushy breasts pushed together and nearly spilling out of a skin tight top, ass peeking out from underneath a skirt too short.

"Carajo." (Fuck.) He rasps, before sprinting over to you, wanting to shield you from wandering eyes. Any doubts that it might've been too much are washed away the second you're hit with the realisation that Miguel's hands are going to be on you for the whole night. Either protectively or for other reasons, you couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

As you walk in, you remain glued to him. body to body. Even as you dance, you move against him, soft tits squished on his chest, hands wandering over his shoulders and his neck.

His own hands are anchored on your waist, his fingers digging into your delicate skin.

Glazed over eyes, pretty mouth agape, lips painted in gloss; they're too much for him. He leans into your touch, kissing you messily. It's all tongue and hot puffs of heaved breaths, desperate and painfully needy.

Seizing the opportunity, you inhaled softly and slowly, feeling the scent of him, cologne mixed with his distinctive musk that has your brain melting into nothing but the thought of irrevocably being his.

Suddenly, a straying hand travels down your body, from the dip of your waist and over your hip, settling on the tender flesh of your ass, his fingertips skin to skin on you, thanks to the shortness of the flimsy skirt.

He pulls you against him, trapping you with the other hand splayed out on your back. You feel your heart rate pick up speed.

His one-day stubble scratches your silky cheeks, almost an invasion. Almost disrespectful to the extensive skin care routine you have and religiously stick to, but that's what you like most about it. No matter how much time you spend on yourself, he always ruins you. Your makeup, your clothes, covering your freshly-carefully-lotioned body in hickies and marks. Simply because you're his.

The palm on your ass squeezes and kneads over the feverish skin, the skirt hiking up in the process as he exposes your thin, lace thongs.

You moan in faux protest, looking up at him and breaking away from the suffocating kiss.

"¿Que pasó, muñeca?" (What happened, doll?). He continues to squeeze, the feeling of his big, rough hand rubbing the plumpness of your ass starts to pool raw need between your legs.

"You don't like me touching you like this?" He speaks into your ear, eyes half lidded and predatory. "Isn't that what you dressed up like this for, hm?"

The bastard.

You take one fraction of a second to look around, taking note that nobody was watching, apart from a few guys who either enjoy the show or are patiently waiting for Miguel to leave you alone for just a minute.

Not gonna happen.

"Dime." (Tell me.) He steals your attention, his embrace almost lifting you off the ground just to hold you whole against him.

You mouth 'Yes', knowing you can't trust your shaky voice to speak louder for him to hear over the music.

The dancing area is getting increasingly crowded as the night seeps deeper into the city, so you two move towards the bar. He sits on one of the chairs, patting his leg for you. You place yourself on his thigh as he manspreads to give you more space, curling a strong arm around your waist.

You feel the fabric of his beige pants come into contact with your panties, your skirt too short to cover your ass, let alone allow you to sit without having it slide up. You close your legs tightly, seeking a bit more privacy from the public eye.

Trying not to slip from your seat, you attempt to brace yourself on your palms; one hand on his knee, pushing your back into him, and one on-

Fuck.

Your other palm accidentally lands on his crotch, your fingers grazing his half hard cock. Before you can take your hand away and hide your flushed face, he grabs your wrist and keeps it there.

The bartender is making cocktails at the opposite end of the counter, so no one can see what's actually going on. He starts guiding your hand to rub him up and down, a content sigh leaving him. You could swear your own face is very telling by now.

You cup him through the material, feeling the familiar girth of his cock fatten at your attention. He's getting warmer, and so are you.

Before he can start drifting into pleasure, the bartender runs to him, waiting for the order. Miguel asks for a beer, frustrated at the loss of contact, your hands now on the marble counter.

More people gather around the bar, and as his request gets temporarily forgotten amidst the others, he relishes in the re-obtained semi privacy.

"¿Estás bien, muñequita?" He asks, a hint of concern plastered on his face at the sight of your flushed face.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you if I'm uncomfortable." You reassure, feeling bolder.

He smirks, looking around, checking. He feels like a horny teen-ager who has no other choice but to try to explore and test the waters in public. But in reality, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He turns to you, placing a kiss dangerously close to the top of your right breast, teasing. Before you can look down through your hazy vision, he glides a warm palm between your legs, past your skirt, two fingers fitting in the valley of your soft pussy.

You restrain yourself from gasping, instead seeking to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He moves his hand over the mound, flicking your clit through your panties. He can undoubtedly feel how wet you are as he so obscenely cups your cunt. You feel the heat of his palm on you, so comforting in such a filthy way; like that's where it belongs.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of his veined burly arm, muscles flexing as he plays with you, his wrist barely visible underneath your skirt. You clench around nothing, and his motions quicken with expert ease, a clear sign he felt you.

You're left infuriatingly needy for more when he retracts his hand as if nothing happened, the bartender bringing him his beer. You give him a pissed look, and he smiles as he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Smiling, like, what's wrong?

You move to threateningly leave from your seat on his lap, but he follows as expected. He can't lose sight of you.

Walking just a bit further into the crowd, you take his hand behind you. Swaying your hips and undulating your body to the music, you feel the beat through your veins, in your chest, in your head. He comes up behind you, his rhythm in sync with your movements.

Brushing your hair out of the way from behind, he slowly bends down to lick and kiss at the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, raising goosebumps over your skin. You don't know how much longer you'll stay here, seeing how clingy and needy Miguel has gotten.

You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck and through your lust-hazed mind at the stimulation.

"Feel how fast my heart's beating." You take his hand, placing it where your heart would be. He brings the beer bottle to his mouth, drinking nonchalantly as his palm instantly dips into your cleavage, cupping your left breast. You stiffen, once again surprised.

"Yeah." He confirms, as if he didn't just start groping you to feel your heartbeat. "Pretty fast."

He is well aware of how worked up you get simply because of this attitude. He leaves the bottle on a nearby glass table, now both his hands on your boobs, nearly taking them out of your top to play with them. He looks wrecked, absolutely drunk on need.

One of his arms soon curls around your waist and back, pulling you close into him, the other hand still fondling your chest. You arch your back, pushing yourself impossibly closer into his touch, seeking the warmth of his palm.

Wanting to drive him completely mad, you turn around, your back to him, and start grinding your plushy ass over his groin. He grips your hips, guiding you, not hesitating to let his hands wonder back to your tits, squeezing them under the elastic material of your shirt while you're rubbing yourself on his painful erection.

You can now see people staring, especially at the way he touches you. Arching backwards, you curl your arms around his neck, your chest pushed forward and so much more accessible. His palms are now hot on your soft breasts, craving more. Fondling with fervent need.

The music and the people are drowned out, muffled into the very back of your headspace. He leans down, his mouth to your ear.

"Let's get out of here."

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: tried to make it as non problematic and as filthy as possible at the same time goddamn

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funnyexel · 11 months

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Back For More - Miguel O’Hara x Black Female Reader

The sizzle of eggs frying in the pan echo throughout your kitchen. Practically rushing as you fry it on a low heat, moving back and forth between the kitchen and your room. Hoping it doesn’t burn. Placing a dress against your chest, you move your shoulders from left to right. Briefly imagining yourself wearing the clothing. Placing the perfect sundress on the bed, you check the time, running into the kitchen taking your eggs off the stove once and for all.

“Oh shit.” You sigh, seeing your eggs are dancing on the edges of well done and burnt.

Shrugging and eating it anyway, a tingling feeling glides up your back. Now that you’ve given it the time of day, you shiver at the thought. Ignoring it, knowing that you have somewhere important to be in less than an hour. Throwing the empty plate in the trash, you go to your room. Glancing towards your window for a moment, purposely leaving the blinds cracked as you take off your top. Breasts moving freely as you stride to the bathroom for a quick shower. Taking off your shorts and panties at the same time. Shower cap sitting comfortably on your head as you wash off the heat of the stares. The water moving irregularly each time your mind revisits you being watched. Although eyes aren’t on you at the moment, thankfully. Once you step out the comfort of your own bathroom, you feel dilated pupils drinking in your wet, dripping form.

Dropping the towel on the floor once you’ve dried your skin, you put on your skimpy underwear. Struggling to latch your strapless bra. You check your phone when you succeed. Cursing yourself at the fact you’ll be late for brunch. Rushing through your makeup routine and hairstyle, you still manage to look flawless as you slip on your flowery sundress. The noodled strap dress hugging your curves, plumping out your boobs and butt. All the while staying slightly modest with the length that went all the way to your ankles. Looking around for your sandals as you spray loads of perfume on your body, your head jerks towards the window. A shuffle heard close, almost like someone tripped on something. Brushing it off, you slip on your sandals and grab your purse. The main thing on your mind in the moment being, which route will get you to the restaurant the fastest.

Coming back to your humble abode three hours later, you drop your bag on the side table by the front door and huff. Smiling to yourself at the new memories you just made with your friends. Stumbling in the slightest as you make it to the kitchen for a glass of water, it presents itself to you. The water filled cup resting in your hand as if someone handed it to you. Gulping down the water, you roll your neck and shoulders. The feeling of being watched appearing again.

“Can we just talk.” You exclaim closing your eyes momentarily then opening them. “One conversation.” You slur.

When met with silence, you look out your window, the abandoned building across from you being empty to your glance. Shaking your head, you watch as your window opens for itself, unlocking its mechanism and sliding up, letting a stiff figure through the small space. Hovering over to you in a slow manner.

“I know you can hear me.” You point to the man, his feet connecting with the floor as he gains control over his limbs.

“If you have the guts to watch me you should have the same to talk to me.” You put your hands on your hips, looking up to this built man.

“I wasn’t watching you.” He sternly says, grabbing the top of his mask and yanking it off his head. “I was looking over you.”

“You really think I’d be in danger.” You plainly say, not amused. The water moving through your body is turning into irritation by each passing moment.

“First you wanna move out and now you wanna stalk me. The least you could do for me is answer one question.” You state, watching as he puts his mask aside on the granite counter.

“We aren’t getting back together. There, answered.” He moves his roughed up hair out his face and turns to leave.

“That’s not what I meant.” You grit your teeth, his body immediately going stiff and turning back to you unwillingly. The fluids in his body granting you complete control over him.

“What do you mean, hm? I’m trying to do my best. What do you want from me!” He raises his voice, looking down to you from his elevated position.

“DO NOT YELL IN THIS APARTMENT I PAY FOR!” You snap back.

“I’m sorry.” He hesitates his words, looking over you curiously.

“What did I do to you? Huh? Is it because of how I am now..? Because I can control it.” You plead, sobriety washing over you. And you immediately let him down.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” You ask, hands on your hips waiting for a response. Letting out a strong exhale, he takes a slow step towards you. Holding your hands weakly and moving his hands up your arms to hold you by the shoulders.

“We can’t get back together.” He says to you, leaning in and practically seducing you with how low his voice is.

“why not.” You whisper, swallowing thickly, “You refuse to tell me why…please.” You beg, looking up at him with glossy eyes and a small pout tugging at your lips.

“Stop that.” He defensively says, watching how the water builds up at the burrier of your eyes. Opening his mouth to say more but being at a lost of words. Blinking the innocent tears out your eyes, to which start the waterworks.

“Stop crying.” He utters, all resistance breaking at your vulnerability.

“hey,” you hear him as you weakly wipe the oasis of tears on each cheek, “look at me cariño.” He says, almost sweetly, his voice still having that rugged nature to it.

His bloodshot eyes capture you, not finding it in yourself to look away as he leans in. A burning sensation moving from your chest to your arms, legs and traveling up to your cheeks. Him kissing your right cheek, inhaling your scent all the while your mind is in overdrive with the amount of physical contact. Taking you a moment to release he’s resorted to licking away your tears, his sharp fangs brushing against the soft flesh of your tinted cheek. Watching him from the corner of your eye, he entraps you once more, using his index finger to turn your chin to him. Closing your eyes, your scared of what you know he’ll do.

Smashing your lips in a frenzy of heat and want, you hum into the kiss. Your fright leaving you once your hands reach up into his hair. The fluffy feel pleasant to your fingertips as you massage his scalp. His hands roaming freely down your waist, over your ass and squeezing your plush thighs. Breathing in each-others faces as you move your head from side to side in order to match up with his rapid movements. Breaking away from each other, you look at one another, inhaling and exhaling heavily. Reaching his hand behind your back, he unzips your dress and watches as you slip the straps off your shoulders. The dress tumbling into a pool of lively fabric on the floor.

Spinning your body around, he pushes you towards the counter, prompting you to lean on it. Ass perking up as he plays with the hem of your panties, lifting up the elastic and letting go harshly. The snaps and jolts from your body forcing him to smirk. Waiting patiently for him to make a move, you spread your legs more when his foot taps your ankle. Holding your breath when his finger grazes your pussy lips while pulling back the sticky fabric. Focusing your eyes on the bricked pattern on your kitchen back splash you fight to hold back a scream when he licks your clit. Parting your soaked lips with his tongue. Going as far as teasing your aching hole with a teethy kiss. A hot moan leaving your throat when his sharpened teeth brush against your heat. Using his whole mouth to engulf your pussy in his burning saliva, his tongue to play with your hole.

Feeling how you squish him tightly at his moments. Your mules and shrieks transitioning into a full on scream when his thumb rubs circles on your clit. Guiding you through your first orgasm and abusing your tired core with his quick licks and passionate kisses. Giving your pussy one last kiss he stands up. Looking over your shoulder dazed, he’s naked and sliding your underwear down your legs. Slouched back straightening at the sudden pushing of his dick forcing its way in your shuttering hole. You claw at the granite, running your fingers though your braids and tugging at the roots. Battling another scream when he pushes more, his hips fitting against the round of your ass perfectly. Moving your hips a bit you quickly get used to his abnormal size. The veins that pump through this hot blooded man, shifting along your mushy walls and sending shivering sensations through your stomach.

Snapping his hips into you, he huffs. Understanding how tight you are with every moment he makes. Pulling up to his pink tip and slamming right into your small hole. A mix of grunt and moan coming out your mouth, causing you to rise up off the surface. Doing short yet powerful thrusts, he holds the back of your throat, squeezing on the sides and lowering you back on the counter. Leaning over your body so he could press your face onto the cold material with his hand on your cheek. You view now being the front door and Miguels fit body. His six pack flexing with each slam of his hips into yours. Crossing your legs at the ankles, your pussy pulses more under his gaze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for a second. At the heavenly feeling of you milking him.

“hm…hah..miguel please.” You plead, unsure of what you’re asking for in particular.

A feeling of estasy and euphoria washing over you as you whine loudly. Left leg shaking under you as you uncross your ankles and try to keep yourself from falling. Miguel leaning down on top of you, swallowing air as if he was holding his breath. Grabbing your waist when he feels you lose your footing under him. Deeply chuckling at your weaken legs, he lifts you off the counter and into his arms bridal style. Moving you to the couch he throws you onto the cushions. Your leg shaking as you sit up from your odd laying position. Pushing you in your chest, right below your collar bone your bare back hits the icy fabric.

“Quédate abajo,” He breathes chest heaving up and down, “this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He mutters, moving your legs to surround his hips and digging his knees into the couch. Once he’s situated, leaning forward over you and snaking his hand onto your neck. Loosely holding the flesh as he looks over your body to make sure you’re fine.

“You wanted to cry your way into my pants, hm? Pequeña zorra.” You nod to the best of your ability as he shakes you. Your mind not processing the language switch.

His one palm hiding your neck entirely, holding you in place as he slaps your sensitive pussy with his cock, and sliding it inside you. Grinding into you, his tip kisses your cervix and he pulls out, head tilting back for a moment as he sighs. Looking down again, he aligns himself up and snaps his hips back into you. A whine leaving your lips. His crimson eyes burning into yours and keeping your attention.

“keep makin’ those dumb noises…you dumb girl.” He huffs, croaking out a soft moan as you squeeze him tightly.

“oh fuck cariño, fuck, fuck!” He recites, pounding into you with each breath shattering stroke. Your gasps bringing him pleasure, your shaky legs giving a huge stroke to his ego.

“m-more…oh-“ You stutter shamefully, his hips speeding up, chasing his high as he bites his lip drawing blood.

Focusing your blurry vision on his blood dripping onto your stomach. But he doesn’t care, all you see is a man in heat. Chasing his own release as he uses you, seeing you as nothing more than his dumb play thing, a simple cock sleeve. And he gets what he wants. A steaming hot fluid flowing through your gummy walls as he continues to grind his hips into you. His elbows on either side of your head as he catches his breath above you. Your hands sneaking to his muscled shoulders, a small smile creeping to your lips as you rub and massage the tuff flesh. Right when you think he’ll collapse right next to you, he jumps up. Pulling you into his lap, his cum traveling down your womb and leaking out of your plugged pussy.

“You wanted this, remember?” He whispers against your cheek, getting no other response from you than a throaty moan.

A/n: Isn’t this man so fucking fine omg. When I saw him at the early release I swooned, even though he was trifling, he’s still so damn hot.