vktrsnclr - Tumblr blog

vktrsnclr · 5 months

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||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

4.3k+ words

||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read

You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.

At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.

And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.

Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.

Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.

It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.

Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.

And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.

Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.

“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.

He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.

You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.

“Got you some lunch,” you grin.

He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.

He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.

“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”

You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.

And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.

He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.

“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.

“No, princessa.”

You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.

“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.

You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.

He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.

“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.

A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.

“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.

“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.

You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.

“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.

Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”

You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.

You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.

And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.

Because you're painfully naive.

“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”

Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.

The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.

“No.”

“A man of few words,” you grin.

“A girl of far too many.”

You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.

“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.

Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.

“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.

You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”

He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.

“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.

“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.

“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”

And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.

It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.

Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.

“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”

And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.

Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.

“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.

All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.

You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.

He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.

You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.

All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.

Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.

Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.

“Princessa?”

Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.

You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.

His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.

He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.

The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.

You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.

Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.

Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.

Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.

And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.

So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.

He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.

For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.

A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.

Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.

“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.

He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.

You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.

It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.

His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.

“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.

He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.

You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”

The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.

“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.

“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.

“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”

Oh.

You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.

You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”

You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.

“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.

The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.

Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?

“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.

“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.

He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.

That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.

“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.

“Good Girl,” he croons.

“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”

He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.

The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.

You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.

“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.

“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.

“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.

“No one.”

His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”

Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”

You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.

“Use your words.”

Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.

Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”

“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.

You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.

“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.

“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.

His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.

His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.

The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.

You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.

You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.

Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.

“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.

“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.

The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.

Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.

“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.

You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.

Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.

“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.

You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.

“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.

You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”

He frowns.

Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.

“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.

Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.

Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.

“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.

Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.

You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.

Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.

“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.

“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”

And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.

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vktrsnclr · 6 months

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Home

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

home. the first thing that probably comes to mind when you hear that is a house, yes? i mean, it's not a wrong answer-- it's just, for you.. your home is a person. no matter where you are, what time it is, as long as you're with her: you are at home.

⋆｡ﾟ☁��｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

a sigh escapes your mouth as you see the message on your phone. it read that Bada, your girlfriend, will be coming home late tonight; it means that their practice ran long, and most likely that she haven't eaten yet.

so you make it your mission to drop by her studio with food, and hopefully to relieve her stress-- it's gonna be a surprise, too.

the weight of the food that looks like you're gonna feed a whole village slightly hurts your fingers but you don't mind it, thinking that this will all be worth and you know it.

half an hour pass by and you reach her studio, and finally, you're knocking on the door. it takes a couple of seconds before you see it open and you're greeted with the face of Lusher who you signalled to be quiet.

entering and looking around to see her laying on the ground on her back, looking like she's reviewing their dance practice, and the cat is also there-- what a cute sight.

"hey there," your voice makes her sit up, "missed me?"

almost immediately, she starts lighting up, "honey! how- what are you doing here? and how much food did you bring?"

"..uhm," you show the team and grin, "for the whole squad?"

cheers and excited exclamations filled the once dead room, you even see the cat look around in confusion. you're looking at the girls who are currently settling all the food on the floor-- looking like a bunch of kindergarteners, and you feel a pair of arms snake their way around your waists.

Bada rests her chin on your shoulder, "thank you. also, i missed you, so so much."

"i missed you too. i would do anything for you, my home." you turn your head and kiss the side of her head. "cmon, let's eat."

"i love you."

a giggle emits from you, "i love you more.

✮⋆˙♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🦭✧˖°

im planning to try and write a mini series, hoping i dont get writers block huhu

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

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vktrsnclr · 7 months

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and they say Miguel Ohara is not fucking funny

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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😭🥰

Hello, I saw your Bada Lee Hc and it's really really good!! Can I request a Bada Lee hc where reader is a dancer and a part of Jam Republic. How would they act to each other on the show because their relationship is private? And if you can include also that they battle with each other and you can see the chemistry with them?? This is my first time requesting so I'm sorry if it's confusing..

Also thank you in advance. I hope your day is great.

— secretly dating bada lee on swf 2

pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

warnings: secretly dating, sfw

note: tysm for sending this req in ! i hope you like it ♡

disclaimer: everything on this blog is completely fictional. this blog is for entertainment purposes ONLY. any/all idols mentioned are depicted in a fictional manner. i am not associated with any/all idols and/or entertainment companies/brand names mentioned.

— rbs are appreciated — masterlist

bada struggles to wipe the smile off her face when jam republic is introduced. when you and the rest of the crew finally descend the stairs, bada's smile widens but plays it off as pure excitement to battle a renowned crew.

when bada is called out for her first battle, you can't help but appreciate how good she looks. her confidence coming off her in waves as she addresses redy of 1million.

as the battle proceeds, your crew talks amongst yourselves about how good bada dances and cheering when she pulls off a clean move.

you're both rooting for each other, secretly exchanging soft words of encouragement whenever the chance presents itself.

bada would definitly lightly graze your arm or leg when walking by in hallways, or even lightly bump into you just to interact with you momentarily.

the rest of the bebe crew noticed how giddy their leader was, they find it super charming to see another side of bada. they think she may have a slight crush on you.

i think bada would get a little annoyed if anyone got too friendly with you since she can't exactly show everyone you're together but would trust you to put them in their place.

if she went up against the person who was getting friendly with you, she'll show them no mercy.

outside of filming, when you get a short break, you immediately stand up from your assigned seat and let kristen know you're going to get some air and stretch your legs.

but it's really to sneakily meet up with bada in one of the unused rooms. bada will bring you into the first quick kiss of many, it's a flurry of kisses and soft "i miss you's" jumbled together.

the break goes by way too quickly for either of your liking, but you part, albeit reluctantly. bada laughs at your pouty expression, choosing to steal another kiss with the promise of seeing you later before going your separate ways.

when you both are called to a dance battle, your eyes instinctively find your girlfriend's to find her smiling, almost teasingly. she loved your style of dancing, so to be put against each other made her competitiveness come out.

it must of been evident to everyone on set just how in sync you two are with the loud cheers as you danced. your styles differed but complimented each other's perfectly.

after the judge's decision, bada turns to you with the most sincere look on her pretty face and brings you into a quick hug, whispering how amazing you performed.

after filming, you meet at her apartment and spend the evening cuddling and making up for being apart.

DOWNBADA — do not repost, copy, steal or modify any of my content. posting my work on other platforms is forbidden.

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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Those things are *ancient* to him

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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Secreto De Amor (r18+)

pairing: Miguel O'hara x mistress f reader ft. Gabriel O'Hara

contents: p in v, oral (m receiver), hair pulling, unprotected sex, humiliation, domination/submission, !!cheating!!

word count: 1,212 words

MASTERLIST

"Shit daddy I'm gonna cum!" You whimpered weakly as Miguel brutally pounds your pussy in a missionary position. His hand is gripping on your neck and the other is rubbing on your clit.

"Don't cum yet... I'm not done with you." He flips your body over in a doggy position then puts back his thick and girthy cock on your tiny leaking hole.

"You're such a good whore, taking it submissively." He praises you and pins your head onto the bed while he thrusts sharply. "But you're not cumming unless I told you to." Miguel is panting but he doesn't seem to be giving up any moment. Your body is covered in sweat, spit and cum. Especially your face. You can't help but scream, moan and form incoherent noises along with the clapping noises from his hips to your ass inside the hotel room. Your mind is completely blank from taking his dick that fills your walls of flesh.

"You wanna cum?" Miguel slows down his pace and whispers behind your back, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Yes yes yes!" A weak, slutty, high pitched voice escaped your mouth.

He scoffs before answering. "Of course you do you fucking slut. Beg for it." Miguel continues to tease you by gently thrusting.

"Please daddy I.. I wanna cum again please." You look behind and pleads.

"Nah, not convincing enough." He shakes his head no and then spanks your ass.

Desperately, you begged once again but this time it's much more pathetic and there's nothing he likes more than taking control of it. "Please fucking fuck me! I wanna cum so bad. You can cum inside daddy, please. I'll do anything you want." You almost cried out in frustration.

"Now that's one hell of a slut." His upper lip curled then flips you over again so he can see your face while you cum. He spits on your pussy then starts fucking roughly. He takes your thigh and takes your legs over his shoulder and his face in between.

"Who's pussy is this huh?" He breathes heavily.

"Yours daddy!" You let out a puny moan.

"Fuck fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum! Puta! I'm cumming inside! Hmm.." He continues thrusting forward, putting all of his length inside your tight little hole.

"Scream my name." He grips your titties and thrusts faster. Every stroke sends you to multiple dimensions and blanks out your entire thoughts.

"Miguel... Miguel! Ahhhh! Fuck, daddy!" The only thing that pops into your brain is his name before you reach the verge of orgasm. He then explodes his seed inside you, stirring it up a little then pulls out. Your cunt leaked of cum but he puts it back using his finger. You laid your spent body and let a moment of relief take over, his semen still warm inside.

After a minute or two, Miguel gets up and puts on his pants.

"Wait, you're just gonna leave?"

"What, did you expect me to stay?" He scoffs and puts on his suit.

"I'm taking out my wife tonight." He says and throws out a stack of hundred bills in front of you. "I'll call you when I need you." He kisses your forehead and then walks out the door.

That's what he does most times, to him, you are nothing but a pastime activity, a toy to get his manhood erect. Miguel is a married man but ever since his wife went through an accident, she couldn't satisfy his needs anymore due to PTSD. She couldn't engage in a sexual activity with him anymore so Miguel secretly takes out his sexual frustrations on you.

A month went by without a call or a single text from him. You kept on texting him, posting lewd stories and thirst traps on platforms where he follows you but he doesn't have the time to see it. That's what he usually does, fucks and go, but this time, it's different, your intuition tells you that he might call off the relationship anytime soon. So you did what every desperate mistress does, you decided to break in and follow him one night at a party that he and his wife attended.

You wore a satin dress that shows off your features, just enough to get his attention and be presentable at the same time. When you walked in, his brother Gabriel brushed on your back while holding a glass of champagne.

"If it isn't my brother's whore." He whispered on your neck.

You sighed after recognizing his voice even before facing him. "Gab."

He's the only trusted person that knows about his brother's affair. Only cause he caught you one time getting raw dogged by Miguel.

"What are you doing here chiquita? You're looking for Miguel?"

"Y-yeah... where is he?" You look away.

"Oh no mamí, you've gone desperate huh? You know his wife's here, right?" He smirks and places his hand on your chin. You look away, feeling ashamed.

Gabriel sighs and clings your arm into his. "Don't worry, I have an idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Just go with flow."

You went with him as he takes you to a flock of rich, eccentric and powerful people at the party. You spotted Miguel in the crowd talking to his wife who seems to have too much to drink. She looks expensive wearing a Vivienne Westwood dress and necklace that you could recognize from a mile away. Gab takes you to them with a wide grin on his face, mocking his brother.

"Everyone, this is my girlfriend." He smiles.

"I- uh wha-" You blink in confusion.

"Oh Gab! Good! You're finally committing." The lady says joyfully. Miguel just stares at you and his brother grimly with his clenching fists.

"Committing suicide, you mean." He whispered.

"What is that, honey?"

"Oh nothing, my love. You've had too much to drink, do you want Gab to drive you home?"

"No not y-"

"I think you should take her home pendejo. It's getting late. I still have clients in here." People are starting to stare but Gab didn't wanna make a scene so he just did what Miguel wanted.

As soon as they left, Miguel drags you by the arm to a secluded room. "Now explain to me why the fuck would you stand a fucking inch next to my wife?!" His voice was hoarse as he tightly grips on your wrist.

"It was Gab, I swear. He probably wanted to make fun of you." You replied.

"That's the most stupidest shit you've ever done."

"I know... I just.. I need you. You know, I kept texting you for weeks but you ghosted me." You bite your lower lip and slowly guides your hand on his crotch. Miguel immediately looked at the corners on the room and checked for cameras like it's his natural instinct. Luckily, there was none.

"I'm really upset right now." He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

"Can I apologize?" Your serene voice and your hand on his bulging cock drives him madly horny at that very moment.

"No, I think you need reminding. Do you want me to remind you of your place?" He says and grabs a fistful of your hair as you nod like a pathetic little slut. He then drags you down on your knees and quickly unbuckles his pants. A thick-headed engorged cock reveals itself right in front of you.

"Suck me."

Y'all up for part 2?

MASTERLIST

#marvel #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #marvel smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #spider man smut #spiderverse imagine #spiderman 2099 #mcu smut #miguel ohara #miguel smut #Spotify

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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Desperate to breed, desperate for your scent ༶ Miguel O'Hara headcanons nsfw 18+

⊹ He’ll sneak your used underwear out of your hamper, keeping them out on his desk in his home office, sniffing them to soothe his stress and nerves, but mostly when he’s craving you. He’ll imagine you, squirming and whining as he eats you out. He’ll imagine how you taste, remembering how your fresh heat smells, as his nose rubs against your throbbing bud, all while keeping his nose pressed against your lace panties. He gets off on it. He’ll try to control himself, but every now and then, he’ll release a shameful load into them, imagining his tight, lacy fist were you, though he knows too well it’ll never compare. After you search all over your apartment for them, he’ll return them in a week, now freshly washed and ready to be wet again. You roll your eyes when he returns them to you, as he defends himself, “couldn’t help it, mamas, you smell too good to wash away so soon,” he’ll shrug, kissing your neck, “I just needed to savor it.”

⊹ Miguel is animalistically desperate for you when you’re ovulating. He fights to ignore his dirty thoughts, but his heightened senses make your hormones smell one million times stronger, the sweet musky smell driving him insane. He usually keeps his distance, trying not to overwhelm you with his intense desire, but mostly fails and ends up smothering you on these special days, which you don’t mind. He’s always obsessed with you, but those days, he’s like a desperate animal, craving your taste and your wet warmth.

⊹ He wants to make sure it takes. After filling you up with his hot thick liquid, he’ll finger you, curling his fingers back up into you, pumping his seed back into you, hoping it’ll stick and make you plump with his child in a few months time. He doesn’t even realize/acknowledge how obsessive he can be about it; it’s natural to him. You moan, concealing your smile, as you let him satisfy his instinctive desires.

⊹ He lends you t-shirts to wear and sweat in for one whole week, knowing your scent and musk will be absorbed into it. He makes it a job for you to complete, handing it to you, expecting his shirts back in one week, drenched in your scent. When he goes home, he puts one on immediately and wears it as pajamas all week until the smell wears off.

⊹ He loves the smell of your sweat. Especially the sweaty essence you bring home after you work out or after a long summer day. He’ll embrace you right at the door, digging his nose into your neck, or burying his head into your chest and underarms. When you resist out of embarrassment or exhaustion, he begs and whines for you to let him smell you all over, asking to help you undress for your shower so he can smell you all the way up until you wiggle out of his grasp and begin to shower the long day off of you. As he undresses you, he buries his face into every corner of you. He’ll kneel down, undressing you, pressing his nose in between your inner thighs, inhaling and humming against your skin. You can’t help but blush and giggle at his simple, kind of embarrassing but harmless requests. He’s obsessed and addicted to you, and you love it. It reassures you that he craves your skin and entire existence as much as you crave him.

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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*pussy suddenly starts throbbing* what is it girl?? what do you see???

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vktrsnclr · 8 months

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fan favorite | miguel o'hara

in which your little side hobby is being a cam girl, except things get messy when you’re your boss’s fan favorite

pairing- miguel o’hara x fem! reader

tags- nsfw, masterbating, size kink?, afab reader, idk how to make tags ! (perspective also changes from reader and miguel !)

———

“Ohh…Fuck I’m close,” You muttered, playing with your clit as you fingered it more and massaged your tits to the camera.

“Papí, please~” You bit your lip, moaning as much as you could satisfy your viewers. You glanced at the chat and flashed a quick smirk while adjusting your mask that only covered your eyes and nose bridge.

¡M2099 te envio 500 dólares! — “Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa”

You pushed your breasts together and stared at the camera seductively, biting your lip grabbing the nearest sex toy, and teasing your clit with it. “Mmmm fuck…”

Miguel bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair, extending the window to the live stream. He was in his office back in HQ trying to finish some work until he got the notification that you were streaming so he jumped on.

After a random night of feeling sex-deprived, he started searching for different things to jerk of to. Then he found you and he can’t help it. He’s addicted.

He’s addicted to the way you moan ever so breathlessly.

He’s addicted to the way you mutter sweet nothings quietly while almost reaching your high.

He’s even addicted to the way you stare at the camera as if you’re actually staring right at him, begging him to stuff his fat, fucking, hard cock down your tight little pussy. And don’t even get him started on the little spider tattoo you have on the right side of your ribcage.

He liked to think that you got it in honor of Spiderman because he’s Spiderman. The thought of that alone made him want to cum already.

He looked at your arched position and closed in on your soaked pussy, all swollen and red due to you abusing your clit in pleasure.

“Oh fuck, mami…” He started to pump his cock with the same speed you were flicking your clit, almost moaning in unison.

How he would love to have your pretty pink lips around his cock, sucking like your life depended on it.

How he would even live to bend you over and fuck you like the little slut you are for him, marveling over your plump ass.

How he would love to have your tiny hands scratching down his back for balance as he fucks you, small and breathlessly whimpering below him.

Just as he was going to cum, you let out an almost pornographic moan and licked your fingers clean as you winked at the camera.

“I’ll see you next time, hermosos. Besos~!”

He stared at you in awe as you shut off the live stream, still fantasizing about you.

It happened too quick and he was sent back to reality once the office was quiet. He looked down and frowned.

He was still hard.

———

Once you switched off the camera and made sure it was off, you groaned in annoyance, “So fucking annoying.”

You took down the backdrop from your living room, adjusted the curtains and laid down on your bed. You glanced at your watch and Spider suit hanging from your closet and covered your eyes. You felt kind of grateful that the apartment complex allowed you to make the walls soundproof. Ever since moving to Earth -928 and refusing to work for a huge corporation, you have needed the money. You went over to shower and put on some sweats.

You threw yourself on your mattress and grabbed your favorite plush. You started turning on your computer to watch your favorite show, feeling like you were finally alone in your thoughts.

That is until your watch started beeping.

You grabbed your blanket and frantically put your hair in a low ponytail, grabbing your watch to see what happened.

Lyla popped out and waved, “Hi Y/N!”

You couldn’t help but frown at her presence. She’s great but now was obviously not the time to call, “Yes, Lyla?”

“Miguel wanted me to remind you that you’re going to be with Jess and Hobie tomorrow. And don’t be late! Anyways bye!”

You nervously waved, “Bye..?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, Miguel would bother you this late at night to bitch at you. It was annoying and you honestly didn’t care what he was going to tell you. You were going to try to be early.

———

“Y/L/N! You’re late!”

You winced at Miguel’s stern voice. You woke up late by accident and tried to sneak into his office where you were met with Hobie and Jessica who waved at you.

“Hi, Miguel!” You chirped, waving cheerfully. You wanted to die.

“Morning, Y/N,” Jess smiled.

You went over to her and hugged her gently, “How are they?”

“Well they kicked so far and-“

“Can you not? We have a mission to go on.”

You frowned at Miguel who sneered at you. In all honesty, he’s good-looking and you’d definitely fuck if he gave you the chance. You can see why some girls would like him, but that doesn’t stop him from being a dick.

He always would target you due to your carefree demeanor in contrast to his strict composure.

“Who spat on his breakfast?” Hobie frowned. He sat on top of a huge metal piece that was scattered throughout the space and was playing with a nearby cord.

“I expect every single one of you to follow my lead. Especially a certain someone, Y/L/N.” He narrowed his eyes toward you, which made you glare back.

Again, if he didn��t target you, you’d wanna fuck.

———

“What the fuck?”

You could see why you needed exactly four to handle the anomaly.

As everyone started to attack the anomaly, you started to swing at him full force, using some of your previous fighting experience to knock him down. It wasn’t until it hit back, throwing you across and heading your direction, and threw a sharp piece of metal, cutting the side of your ribcage. You yelled out in pain before you could even start attacking more.

“I fucking hate this,” you groaned and ripped the hole in your suit bigger, exposing your bloodied side a bit more by an inch to let the cut air out.

You felt bad just staying there until Hobie and Miguel apprehended the anomaly while Jess put it in a force shield.

“So incompetent…” Miguel rolled his eyes as he looked at you, “Can I? Or are you going to be a little bitch and-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

You glared at him, who smiled smugly. He was a cocky piece of shit sometimes.

He studied your injured figure, furrowing his eyebrows and squinting at your side to look at it further. He looked like the personification of confusion due to the look on his face.

“Go ahead, O’Hara,” you laid on your other side for him to see.

“Okay…” His usually stern voice had a bit of a crack and you felt like laughing a bit before he cleared his throat, “Lyla, scan her.”

Lyla popped out as her usually cheery self, “Hi Miguel! Hi Y/N! Ooo that does not look good-“

“Lyla.”

“Mkay!”

She let the orange-yellow holographic screen go through you, showing your results in a small screen. “Okay. Considering you just got off a mission, your heart rate is a bit high but get that cut checked.”

“Yeah, sure sure- SHIT!”

You felt completely off guard when you felt Miguel carry you. “It’s not like I could have you fail to walk too. Pendeja.”

Lyla giggled and smiled, “So-”

“Bye, Lyla.”

She rolled her eyes and saluted, disappearing a second later.

You rolled his eyes, peering over at Jess and Hobie who laughed at you. It was fucking embarrassing to be carried by your own boss who thinks you’re incompetent.

“Where are we going?” You breathed out. And before you knew it, you were at the infirmary at HQ, the area completely bare of people. You gasped as he immediately placed you on a cold metal table.

“Where do you think?”

You could slap the smug look off his face. You frowned and looked away. It didn’t help that he loves to make eye contact so every time you talked, you had to look into his ruby red eyes, which killed you inside.

“Take off your suit.”

You whipped your head in his direction and had your mouth agape, “What the fuck did you-“

“Oh shut up. It’s not in that way, I just want to see your cut. Plus it’s probably nothing I haven’t already seen before.”

You didn’t know what to say. His words were glazed with arrogance and it intimidated you more than usual.

You obliged and started stripping off your suit before laying back down. You felt slightly embarrassed since you were practically naked, only left in your bra and panties and it was in front of your boss.

He scanned your body, eyes staying on your ribcage, and pursed his lips. He had a pensive look on his face as he looked at you and sighed, “I’m going to clean your cut.”

Okay.

“Alright…”

You felt tense, literally could be able to cut the tension with a knife, “No mames, you need to be more careful,”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Can’t have my hermosa hurt.”

You felt your blood run cold, peeking over to look at him and his smug face, “What?”

His face made you feel unsure of what he said. Maybe you misheard. Maybe you were delirious due to the injury. It wasn’t that bad but you did lose some blood.

“What did you just say?”

“Oh, nothing…”

You sighed a bit, shivers going down your spine as his fingertips brushed on your skin, cringing at the sting of the alcohol that was rubbing against your wound.

“Stings?”

“Yeah.”

His fingers danced around a particular spot, caressing it gently, “You have a nice tattoo here.”

“Mhm. Thank you.”

———

To say Miguel was baffled was an understatement.

You couldn’t be?

The annoying Spider he trains? Be the seductive streamer he watched every day?

That couldn’t be.

The tattoo looked almost too similar. It looked almost identical to the one she had. If it was you, he wouldn’t know how to feel.

Even though he targets you, he couldn’t help but feel a bit fond of you. You’re incredibly talented and flexible but you just have to argue back with him.

Your eyes were similar yes, but the thought was eating him up inside. He had to find out.

He can’t recall what he thought when he swung over to your quarters a few blocks away from headquarters in downtown Nueva York, and caught you playing with yourself behind closed doors. Moaning the exact way his favorite streamer would.

Such a whiny submissive voice.

He wanted to open the door, yes, but it would be too sudden. Too…

“Miguel?”

Your voice sounded tired, as if you were barely running a fucking marathon. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat, your small breaths while you spoke. And it made him want to go absolutely feral.

“Yes? Hi.”

He sounded shy, which was in complete contrast to his aggressive attitude.

“Why are you here?”

The entire apartment was dark, only being shined by moonlight from your wide windows overlooking Nueva York.

“Your cut…Is it fine?”

“Yeah…”

You looked up at him, nervously biting your lip, “Why are you here?”

He pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, “I wanted to see how you were. Y’know, so I can know if you can perform well tomorrow…and later in the night.”

It wasn’t until he looked down that and saw you, still gripping the sex toy you had previously used on yourself.

He started walking closer to you slightly, “What do you have there?”

You appeared to get flustered and backed away from him.

“N-Nothing.”

He reached for your arm to see the pink dildo, his eyebrows raising and a smile playing at his lips to your flushed face.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

The way he looked at you made you even more aroused. Your wistful expression made him hard as you helplessly gazed at him, your features accentuated beautifully by the moonlight.

With that, he kissed you, surprised by you dropping the dildo and kissing him passionately. He caressed your ass while doing so and lifted you up, carrying you to your bedroom.

He laid you on the bed, taking off your clothes and getting rid of his suit at a press of a button. Your expression was full of surprise and that stroked his ego immensely. He began caressing your breasts whilst kissing at your neck, leading down to your stomach and upper thighs. You threw your head back, clawing at his back as he started to flick his tongue against your clit.

“F-Fuck…Miguel!”

He felt you squirm in pleasure as he kept thrusting his tongue, his fangs teasing your folds. He couldn’t help but smile at your aroused nature.

As soon as you were going to cum already, you screamed, scratching at his shoulders, “Please…Miguel!”

He stood up, licking his fingers and smiling, “Eres tan dulce.”

Your eyes went to his his hard cock erected. The view made you whine and bite your lip, “You’re so big! Baby, what if you don’t fit…”

“Don’t worry, mami. I’ll fit…”

This is what he wanted. And you looked so beautiful.

“Eres tan bélla, mi hermosa…”

And before he was going to thrust into you, finally diving into your wet, tight pussy, he woke up in a cold sweat. He looked over to his bedstand clock, marking it 2:34 in the morning.

He shifted around his sheets and felt his dick hard.

“Fuck…”

masterlist

sol's notes- this was also just a drabble! thank you guys so much on everything and requests are open!!

tags - @ashanomly @obi-mom-kenobi @tojisbabygworl @toaffes

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