Spiderman 2099 Smut - Tumblr Posts

𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔞

(the fan art is from @RamiroAart on X!)

+18 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

summary: after taking your car to get an oil change with your debit card not working, you offer a solution to the mechanic.

content warning: this is a bit taboo, so I'm putting a SMALL WARNING HERE. Proceed with PRECAUTION. miguel wears a virgencita necklack, pussy slapping, cunnilingus (f! recieving), overstimulation, fingering, semi-public (he fucks you in a garage, but it's closed), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, people). If I miss any, let me know.

word count: +1.4k words

author’s notes: there have been so many changes to this, it's not even funny 😳

Part Two to Gatita

Oil changes. They will be the epitome for you. The visits to the mechanics near your house were always dreaded, especially since they reminded you of doctor visits. But instead of paying a small co-pay of ten or twenty dollars, your car costs more than life itself regarding its separate parts.

But paying for it? Your poor little debit card couldn't get a good read of the PIN reader. So what do you do? Give the mechanic an offer he can't skip.

“Compórtate bien, muñeca o te voy a castigar.”

The once-open entryway of the mechanic’s shop is now closed. But your legs? They were wide open to a munch. The man who changed your oil is now going down on you like a hungry dog. “Your pussy is so pretty…” He mumbles. You felt yourself squirm on the hood of your car, feeling his fingers hover at your entrance, with the tips of his fingers gathering the clear discharge.

Moving his fingers away, he laid his tongue flat against your entrance, moving from the bottom to the top, letting his tongue linger on your puffy clit. While sucking on your clit, the sensation of something cool lightly tap at your core, causing you to squirm. “Let's move her out of the way…” Miguel pulls away before you see the thing that dangled at your entrance. With swift hands, he maneuvered the virgencita charm away and to the nape of his neck. “We don't want her to see this.”

“What?” You whined, soon propping yourself on the hood and looking at Miguel going down on you once again, eat you out like you were the last meal of his life. With one hand, you buried your hand into his hair and let out a loud groan. He pauses momentarily, feeling your gaze. He pulls away, looks up at you from where he is, and chuckles. “Que asquerosa,” He darkly chuckles. With a heavy hand, he slaps at your puffy bundle of nerves, earning a yelp from you. “You wanna see me fuck you? You want to see?” He placed his fingers against the irritated skin, massaging the irritation slowly.

A tiny groan escaped before you covered your mouth quickly. “Let’s prep you, okay?”

One finger suddenly became two, feeling yourself getting ready for your sweet release. “Please…” You whined, grinding yourself on his fingers.

“Hmm, should I add a third finger?” He chuckles before a sharp, stretching pain greets you as his three fingers bottom out and slowly pump you. A scream fills the space before Miguel covers your mouth with his free hand. “Shh, shh. I know, muñeca.” He whispers, keeping up the slow pace. “I have to prep you for me, okay?” He moves his hand away from your mouth and places it on your hip, getting a good grip on you, not allowing you to squirm on the hood of your car.

The same build-up on your lower stomach came back to you, making you moan out loud for anyone to hear. “Please, please.” You plead, guiding your hips up and down on his fingers, relieving yourself. “Why are you begging? You're doing the work yourself.” He chuckled at the sight before him, seeing you watch yourself pleasing yourself and building up more arousal on his fingers. “Enough cariño. My turn.”

/

“You know what you do to me.” He whispers, getting you comfortable. Being bent over a table with your pussy out in the open while being face-down felt humiliating, but you felt giddy. The sound of a belt clinking behind you and a zipper going down heightened your senses and made your mouth water. One of Miguel’s hands gripped your hip, with the other hand nowhere on your body. You looked over your shoulder but got something else in return. With a heavy hand, a loud spank at your pussy fills the space. You turned back to look at the table below you and kept in your moan instead, biting down on your lips.

“C’mon, let me hear those pretty little noises you make…” A harsh, hot pain hits again, almost as if you were a strong stallion needing to be tamed down. The more the hits became close to your entrance, the louder your wanton cries became.

“You like getting spanked here…” His fingers gently rub at the red marks, giving you a moment to breathe. “Now, be a good girl and open up.” The feeling of his fingers spreading your entrance is enough to make you shudder and wait for what you've been wanting ever since you entered this mechanic's shop. A nudge against your entrance before a lowly aching pain overwhelmed you.

Propping yourself up against the table, you exhaled but soon bucked your hips toward his length and slowly sliding his length without holding back.

“There you go. Take your time, muñeca…”

You stopped yourself, not even letting his length halfway in. “Is it in?” You breathed.

A laugh escapes the mechanic, playfully patting your rear. “More or less.” He breathes, feeling your walls flutter at his length. “You’re not going to fit…” You whined, feeling him push his length inside you and his girth stretch you, painful but pleasurable.

“I’ll make it fit…” He shushed you, patting his hand on your hip. He slides into you, groaning in relief, seeing his length disappear into you.

Your mouth is agape, feeling you buck your hips back, wanting more. “C’mon—” Miguel’s words fade as a knock on the garage door greets the two of you, with Miguel being nearly balls-deep in your cooch.

“Keep silent, muñeca.” He whispers, slowly thrusting into you before the tempo increases. The knock came back, but Miguel ignored it, making your pleasure a priority. You let out a quiet whine, only for Miguel to reach over to cover your mouth immediately. “Keep it quiet, do you understand?” You nod eagerly, moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eventually, the person leaves, allowing the two of you a sense of comfort.

Beads of sweat landed on your bare back as your breathing became more labored, and you felt the same sensation on your lower stomach returned to you. “Fuck, you're tight…” He lets out a breathy whisper, nearly fucking you onto his work table. The force of his hips against you is nearly enough to knock over some of his tools, letting them shake and knock over onto the wooden desk.

“Tómalo… ay carajo…” He groans as you bounce back, creating a loud, wet sound throughout the shop. Looking down, Miguel could see at the base of his cock, forming a white ring, a combination of his cum and your clear discharge. “C’mon, come. You can do it, cariño.” His sweet praises are brushed aside as your moans evolve into screams of pleasure.

“C’mon, make me proud.”

The girth and the way his length rubs against your clit soon because too much for you, allowing you to finish. A sudden splash zone onto Miguel was the thing he least expected, feeling your juices coax his length and creating a puddle underneath the two of you. “Good girl…” He breathes before he continues to thrust into you, wanting to chase his release.

“I’m almost done. Give me a second…” The motions became more harsh and rapid, earning a scream of pleasure and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Another release from you soaked the two of you, mostly on Miguel’s upper thigh, and lower stomach a bit. “She still got it.” He chuckles before he bucked his hips against yours harshly. “Want me to fuck a baby into you?” He croons, moving harsher and faster.

You nod, too cock-drunk to give him words. “Use your words.” He gave you a harsh spank on your rear, causing you to open your mouth. “Fuck yes! Oh God, fuck yes!” You scream out, soon kegeling his cock. “Fuck! You got me fucked up…” Miguel groans into your ear, keeping the same place. The sensation of his load crashing into your orgasm creates a mess between the two of you.

After a moment, the sensation of him pulling out made you whine, and you soon felt his load slowly seep out of your flutter hole. You whimper and soon get greeted by a gentle kiss from him. His fingers gently gather his seeping cum and shove it back into you. “Keep it all in. I don't want to leave a mess.”

Ironic to say that now.

NOTHING BUT TROUBLE

credit to: @mar_mar0u on Instagram/ @/marmar0u on X and Tumblr!

✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: cat and mouse chase? more like a cat and spider chase…

✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader and miguel have an established relationship, suggestive comments? miguel being a complete flirt, the reader being fed-up, make-out session? flirty interactions, soft smut, miguel is uncircumcised, soft dom miguel, reader is a little assertive in bed, dick-grabbing (?), and this is hella cheesy (idc I had fun)

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: >1k words

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: my doing 😛 (my indecisive ass CANNOT) this took forever to work on as my ass got too indecisive on how to write it and how to execute it

to my cat owners, tell your cat I said: psst, psst. 🐈‍⬛🩵 (specifically to the cat that lives on my campus)

𝒀𝑶𝑼’𝑹𝑬 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝑨 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑬

º・🤍 º.▫︎º・

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to mess with you whenever he has the chance. He would do ridiculous burglaries to get your attention. He is like a cat running to chase a laser point to catch it but fails every time. But when you see him, he always gets away… He would break into a pet store to free the cats, to get your attention.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 would find ways to flirt with you, no matter how innocent it sounds or how sexual it is. And do you like it? A little too much. The pickup lines got cleverer every time you ran into him.

“You're the only woman who turns my world upset down.” He sneers, hanging upside down on a lamppost with your webbing around his ankle.

“Uh-huh…” You huffed out, not paying attention to him.

“You got my blood rushing, and I'm not talking about my head. It's going to my dick—”

“Okay, enough.”

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 is like a stray cat whenever he comes into your apartment. This man would crawl into your apartment and start with his late night “𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝒁𝑽𝑶𝑼𝑺” with you.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who makes biscuits on your blankets and pillows half-asleep, somehow ripping your blankets. Because of this, he would buy you new blankets every other week, going into different stores to not see the same workers every other week.

He becomes domesticated—

When you're not home, he washes your new blankets with your favorite laundry detergent and always leaves a rose on your bed, no matter what. The thorns are always snipped off. He doesn't want you to cut your pretty fingers :(

(As a bonus, he trims the thorns with his claws.)

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 make sure that you get home safely. Every night, between 9:30 and 10:15, he stands on the roof of a building across from your apartment, waiting to see your window light up with that familiar warm light.

A sigh of relief escapes his lungs when he sees you enter your apartment after returning from your high-demanding job as a photographer (and New York’s superhero).

Seeing you drop your bags and remove your sweater was a good indicator for him that you were ready to settle for the night. Especially when it's a weekday.

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves long nights with nothing but intimacy, especially after you had a long night. The sensation of being free from his suit while being bare in bed with you brings serotonin to him, enjoying the soft touches and caresses. The touches slowly evolve into gropes, to the point where he is on top of you, planting soft kisses on your cheeks and temple.

He loves holding you close while slowly stroking his length against your puffy clit, enjoying the hood of skin stroking the vein on his length. The slow rub is enough to pent you up, enough for you to grab his length gently and pull him closer to your entrance. Seeing you tug at it, he chuckles, guiding him closer to your gummy walls.

"Seems like you know what you're doing, sweetheart. Go on, it's yours."

Between the gentle pinch of your thumb and pointer, you gently pinch at his foreskin, pulling it down to see the familiar mauve tip you love to see when he's pent up. You again pull at his length with such vigor, finally inviting the bulbous tip into your soft, warm, gummy walls. "No foreplay?" He quips before he feeds your needy pussy more of his length, slowly and gently. Your fingernails rake down his back like a rake gathering leaves in a yard. When he bottoms out, a breathy moan escapes from deep in his chest cavity, a groan that pleads to be let out from such pent-up stress and frustration.

"Home sweet home," He sighs, grinding his aching tip against your g-spot. You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary commentary, wanting this man to shut up. But the unexpected thrust sent you into heaven and back to earth, grasping onto your bedsheets as if it would anchor you down from the heavenly sensation while a guttural moan escapes.

"Good, good. You're doing so good." He croons while slowly pulling out and thrusting his length back in, grasping onto the fat of your hips, allowing his claws to sink into your soft skin while keeping up the same smooth pace. The sight of your soft breasts rippling against his thrusts awakened something in him, allowing him to eagerly take your nipple in between his teeth, allowing his canines to graze against the sensitive bud every other second.

But he always lets you finish first, no matter how long it takes for you to finish. It could be an hour, and he's not going to stop until he wants you to squirt on his cock, soaking both of y'all and the fitted bedsheets. But it can sometimes get the man pussy whipped, literally.

Groans slowly turn into mewls and resort to sloppy, makeout sessions with you, wanting to block the sounds he was producing. In between kisses, he whispers in between the kisses and breaths soft praises while he gently strokes his cock, yearning to be indulged in your warmth. The usual stoic expression wipes away like a spill off a kitchen counter, changing into a lolled expression, seeing your chest rise and fall rapidly. But the moments while you finish, he accompanies you, holding you close to his chest, muffled groans against his skin.

"Good job, sweetheart. We did it."

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 who loves to cuddle with you after. This man loves sleeping on your bed while you play with his hair. He groans from the back of his throat, mimicking the sound of a cat purring. The vibrations return to you, creating a funny feel against your skin.

He denies and denies that he purrs, but the vibrations from his groans don't help his case.

He yaps in his sleep, too. He mumbles, barely coherent nonsense.

But you don't mind it as he sleeps like a dog (cat) on the floor.

RUNNIN’ OUT OF TIME!

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: angst (lol), mentions of divorce, smut, oral (f receiving), ‘just the tip’, unprotected p in v (wrap it 🫵🏼), doggy, ass spanking (like once), orgasm denial, use of toy (m receiving), switch reader + miguel

synopsis: countless missed dates. hundreds of text messages gone unanswered. you’d grown okay with the negligence from miguel towards your marriage, coming to your breaking point after he missed your daughter’s birthday. (based off this request)

author’s note: hi pookie, i hope i did your request justice and i hope you enjoy (will try to get to a couple others soon) 😄

word count: 11k (all this to yap ab cock and balls is crazyy)

There wasn't a big A-Ha! moment when you came to the realization that you loved Miguel O'Hara. The words just slipped out naturally the moment he'd said them to you, like they belonged to him alone. Because in all actuality, they only did belong to him. There was no one else you could see yourself waking up to next in the morning. No one else you wanted to spend time with for the foreseeable future. Maybe it was the memories between the two of you that helped you come to the conclusion that you loved him.

From the time that he carried you back to your shared apartment

Your legs wobbled with every step you took on the concrete, the heels you had on digging into the back of your ankle and the sides of your toes. You didn't have to take the heels off to know that you were mostly likely bleeding. "Wait, Miguel. Just wait up a bit," you were trying to catch up to his long strides, failing miserably with each new sting of pain that shot up your foot. You made a mental note not to wear heels whenever Miguel suggested a 'brisk walk' as a date idea.

He looked back to see you leaning against a pole, taking off your heels for some kind of temporary relief before you continued the rest of the walk. Not that you looked too enthusiastic about that either. Though he couldn't have his pretty girlfriend standing on a dirty sidewalk, could he? With what seemed to be no effort, he took you in his arms and resumed the walk. "How bad's the pain?" He looked down at you once he was sure he wouldn't bump into anyone in a three block radius.

You opened up your mouth to speak, about to tell him that it was bearable enough to the point you could still walk, but he interrupted you by saying, "Don't lie to me because you think you're inconveniencing me. Just tell me the truth." The truth was that you were debating on staying on that sidewalk and calling an Uber at this time of night. Not that he needed to know that, though. "It's not so bad now that you're carrying me," you reluctantly admitted, looking away from him.

If at any point during the night he struggled with the task, he didn't seem to show it. He hadn't even cracked a sweat. Somehow he'd managed to maneuver the front door open, setting you down on the couch with the utmost care necessary. "I'm gonna go get you the first aid kit. Is there something else you need?" You shook your head, laying back onto the couch cushion while you waited for him to come back.

He came back, raising your feet before taking a seat down next to you. He put your feet down on his lap, getting an ointment from the box. You wondered just how many things he had in there for these types of occasions. Throughout the couple months of dating, you'd seen him pull out an ointment for ant bites, scratches, and now blisters. "Try to stay still for me, will you?" He murmured, starting to rub the ointment over the exposed skin. His touch was the gentlest you'd ever felt, barely feeling the subtle brush of his fingers.

"Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana," he hummed as he finished applying the bandages, making sure that they were well wrapped before standing up. You made no attempt to stand up from your spot on the couch just yet, letting your feet recover from wearing those heels for five hours straight. "You need some help getting into the bedroom?" He questioned, scooping you into his arms with that same ease as before when you nodded.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, my lady."

To the time that he begrudgingly agreed to dance with you in the rain

"Come on, just indulge me a bit," you stood in the middle of the empty road, extending your hand out to him while the rain poured down relentlessly. "I'll indulge you inside where we don't have any chance of catching a cold," he grumbled from his spot on the sidewalk, trying to appear menacing. He really did just look like a sopping wet cat, especially with the way that his brows furrowed slightly. "Mami, let's go. I'll let you dance with me inside, please. Any song you want, too."

You kept your arm extended to him, waiting. You knew that he was bound to fall for your whims any second. He let out a small groan, pushing himself off the sidewalk before walking over to where you were standing. "If you get sick, I won't hesitate to tell you that I told you so," he intertwined his hand with yours, the warmth from his body a nice contrast to the chill air surrounding the two of you. "Do you know how rare it is for Nueva York streets to be this empty?"

Usually, there was at least a mad man that would be running around the streets. Even in these conditions. But the two of you were alone, streetlights illuminating your 'dance floor.' His reluctance seemed to fade away as the two of you swayed on the street, with seemingly no rhythm whatsoever. "If you wanted to sway with me, we could've done that inside," he pointed out, letting out a small snort. "Just because I said I wanted to dance didn't mean that I promised to be good at it."

He guided you through a slow rhythm, his coordination slightly better than what you would've given him credit for. His feet moving to a silent melody in his head. "I was a chambelán at this quince, they had us practice the routine until we ended up crying or collapsing from exhaustion," he spoke up before you had the chance to ask, "But at least it's given me some pretty gnarly dance moves."

"Hey, Miguel?"

"¿Qué paso?"

"Never say 'gnarly' again. You sound older than what you are," you burst out into little giggles at the scoff that left his lips. "I'll let you know that all the scientific studies I've participated on have shown that gnarly's making a comeback."

"Hey, Miguel?" You were debating on if this was the right time to admit what had been threatening to escape your lips for a while now. All you could do was hope that he didn't think that this admission was too soon.

"If you're gonna ask me about the resources that I have for those studies, I don't have them on me now. I'll get them later, though," you could only roll your eyes at his persistence, a laugh bubbling from your chest. Even as the laugh echoed through the empty street, you weren't exactly too concerned with how loud you were being. It wasn't like it compared to the way your heart was beating against your rib cage, your hands starting to clam up in his grasp.

"No, it's not about that. Not that gnarly's making a comeback either way."

"Mark my words. Gnarly. Will. Be. Making. A. Comeback," he accentuated his words carefully, giving you a mock glare before he continued to speak, "But if it's not about that, then what's up?"

The moment of truth. Maybe this was a mistake. You could feel your throat close up, your movements starting to get a little sloppy. Just tell him. His reaction can't be that bad, right? You knew he had no reason to react negatively but every single worst-case scenario started to run through your head relentlessly. "I love you."

"I love you too," while it was the response that you were expecting, it still caught you off-guard. He held your gaze, showing no signs of regret or hesitation as he whispered those words to you. "I don't think that I've loved someone the same way that I love you," and even now, he had to top off your admission. You weren't sure how much time had passed by while the two of you danced away, all that you knew was that the cold tomorrow was probably worth it. If only to say that you got the chance at this experience.

He didn't say anything the next morning when you woke up with a cough, your skin on your nose starting to get raw from how many times you'd gotten up to wipe it. Even though you could tell that he was itching to tell you, the words practically on the top of his tongue if you had to guess. "I got you some chicken soup," he spoke up after you woke up from what seemed to be your 50th nap on the day, the faint aroma from the soup wafting up your stuffy nose.

Definitely worth it.

And even the time that he'd gone up to receive his award with your lipstick all over his face

"I need my good luck kiss, c'mon," he gently pinched your side, a small laugh escaping from your lips as you attempted to push his hand away. "You'll get my lipstick all over you," you pointed out, remembering that the Chanel lipstick you had on was in fact, not transfer-proof. Miguel didn't seem to care too much though, a grin on his face as he leaned in to kiss you. "At least they'll know that my lady loves me."

You'd imprinted the mark of your lips on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, satisfied by the work you'd done when you looked at it. Perhaps you'd gotten a little carried away. Not that he looked bad covered in your red lipstick, by any means. He was no longer Miguel O'Hara, the world-renowned geneticist with more awards under his belt than he could count. He was simply just a love struck idiot with a grin on his face. A love struck idiot for you.

"What time do the awards start again?" You wiped away the lipstick on the side of your mouth and under your lips, grabbing the tube from your purse to fix it. The last thing that the two of you needed was to hear Aaron's snide remarks about how Miguel was incompetent. You went to hand him a clean makeup wipe, but he rejected the advance. "I believe they started about five minutes ago," he responded, pulling his jacket sleeve to look at the watch adorning his wrist.

"Why are you not freaking out about this more?" You questioned him, panic evident on your voice as you pushed everything inside your purse and moved to get out the car. He put his hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it through the material of the silk dress you'd worn for tonight. "Why are you freaking so much about it?" For someone who valued punctuality, he seemed to be oddly calm in this situation. Well, you supposed there was nothing you could do now that you both were late. You took a couple deep breaths, grabbing the stuff you'd missed when you were in a rush.

While you were busy gathering your bearings, he went around the car and opened the door for you. Extending a hand out to you. He grasped your fingers in between his own, helping you with getting out of the car before he even thought of stepping into the building. "They're about to announce your name, O'Hara. Get in there," Delgato hissed as the two of you walked past him, his head craning up to look up at Miguel. "Maybe if you stopped standing in my way, I might be able to."

You could practically see the sheer anger in Delgato's face as he muttered to himself, moving out of the way nonetheless. "Now I know why you end up so stressed," you muttered, making your way down the stairs to take a seat. The room was a bit packed but the two of you managed to find some good seats in the middle. A couple people turned to look at the two of you but their attention was captured once more by the person speaking up on stage. Something about a drug slowing the speed in which some disease grew.

"And now for our next award of the night, please give a hand to Dr. Miguel O'Hara from Alchemax."

The cameras started clicking immediately as soon as he stepped onto the stage, a couple whispers of how unprofessional he was being being shared around in the audience. A couple thank you's were shared, to his lab colleagues and assistants who all simply just nodded upon being acknowledged, before he delved into what the topic of his research had been about. Well, just enough to keep the audience and you entertained. Even though only a couple of the words coming out his mouth actually managed to stick, you couldn't help but listen intently.

To the way that he described his work, with such passion and dedication. The way that he visibly lightened up whenever he got to speak about something that was fascinating to him. Even with all the talk circulating through the audience, you just couldn't help but be so proud of him. His eyes met yours through the sea of people, a smile on his face as he finished with the summary he'd gone over time and time again in front of the bathroom mirror. "Are there any questions?"

He was starting to get agitated, even you could tell from a distance. Well, it's not like you could exactly blame either parties here. The audience wanted to know why he'd shown up with lipstick adorning almost every corner of his face and he wanted to get asked questions about his research. "Any questions that aren't related to my current appearance?" He decided to ask, and it was almost comical how many hands went down. He answered the questions of those who remained, about five. But all he seemed to care about was having your attention in the audience as he spoke.

And while you'd expected him to win tonight, you hadn't expected this. Having him on one knee while you two were supposed to be celebrating his achievement. "So I didn't really prepare a speech before this or anything. But I was just wondering if you'd give me the second win of the night and agree to marry me," As corny as it was, you found yourself nodding to his proposal. "You mean to tell me that worked?" He asked, hesitatingly reaching over to grab your hand to slide the ring on.

"Yes, you idiot. You're acting like I expected anything more from you," you answered, watching as he slid the band on. It was fairly simple, a small stone perched on the middle of it. Your birth stone. "I promise to make you the happiest woman alive," he murmured against your lips, gently tilting your chin so you'd be looking at him. "You already are," it was your turn to be smooth. He let out a small chuckle, his lips gently pressing against yours.

So how did it get to this point?

To the point of having dozens of your calls and messages ignored, and if there was a response, it'd be a simple one-worded response. Enough for you to want to drop the subject all together. Dates between the two of you were a common occurrence, or at least often enough to the point where you didn't have to spend five minutes wondering when the last one had been. Promises left unfulfilled, accumulating only to be left discarded in the dust.

As much as you tried to resist it at first, you started to grow.. okay with it. It felt almost selfish to ask more of him, knowing how much effort he put into making sure that the three of you had a roof over your head. You were able to get a part-time job, giving you more time to spend with Gabriella. A nagging thought kept bugging you though. You married him for the purpose of having him as a husband, not solely a provider. Maybe you weren't as okay with it as you thought.

Your eye twitched when the last balloon was being filled up. How was it that almost every member of his family was capable of showing up and he wasn't? Even some of them came from Mexico for the week. For all the events that he'd missed, you at least would've thought that he would make some attempt to show up for Gabriella's party. You could see her looking around, with the hope of catching a glimpse of her father. It wouldn't hurt to call his work to see what was so important that he couldn't get off, right?

"Alchemax Industries. What can I help you with today?" The receptionist's bored tone came through the other end of the line after spending a couple minutes on hold, your foot irritably tapping against the hardwood floor. All you could do was hope that they wouldn't send you to another line like the previous five times.

"Hi, I'm calling about one of your employees. Miguel O'Hara. I was wondering until what time he was scheduled to work today," you answered quietly, in attempts that no one would overhear. The last thing you needed were any additional comments from his family about how you couldn't keep him around. You listened as the receptionist on the other side started typing out on their computer, silently thanking them.

"¡Te voy agarrar!" You heard yelling behind you, moving to the side before you ended up getting trampled by a bunch of five year olds. "Okay, sorry about taking a while. So about the employee that you're calling, there's a mistake. Miguel hasn't-" The rest of it fell onto deaf ears, your grip on the phone tightening as you struggled to keep up your composure. "Ma'am?" You heard the receptionist ask after a couple moments of silence. The fact that the call had ended hadn't even registered until a while later.

The words kept sounding through your head as the party continued, despite how much you'd tried to drown them out. With water balloon fights in the backyard with some of the kids, karaoke with Gabriella, and the breaking of the piñata. But you couldn't. Your eyes kept darting over to the door, almost expecting to find Miguel walking in at any given moment now. Though you weren't exactly surprised when it remained shut after the first five times that you'd checked. Everyone was having a good time and all you could do was miss him.

Chatter and laughter filled the atmosphere as you made your way through the penthouse, trying to find Gabriella. She'd disappeared right after the cake was cut with the pretense that she needed to use the bathroom about half an hour ago. And while she did spend up to that in the bathroom, it was only really whenever you gave her your cellphone to play around with. And you knew that none of the kids were playing hide and seek. "Gabi!" You called out, searching for her in the guest room.

The last time you'd seen her, she was busy talking with her tías. Nice women, really. Just too involved in finding out whatever chisme they could get out of Gabriella without any regards towards her feelings or the setting they were currently in. You wouldn't be surprised if they brought up the topic of separation to the poor girl. "Hey, have you seen Gabi around?" You didn't even question why Gabriel was exiting one of the rooms with one of your friends, too concerned about Gabi.

Gabriel wiped some spit from the corner of his mouth, shaking his head. "I'll let you know if we find her," he assured you, trying to hide your friend with his body. Like that'd erase the suspicion. Though you guessed it wasn't the right time to go over the whole 'don't hurt them' spiel. You'd do that when you knew your daughter was safe. "Okay, thank you," you told him, going to look for her in the secret spots you knew she liked to hide. In the laundry room. The library. Out in the balcony.

You stepped inside your shared closet with Miguel, not expecting to find her inside. You only really bothered to check as a last resort. But there she was. Her knees pulled up to her chest with her head buried deep in them, sniffling that was almost enough to bring you down to your knees. You walked over to her, sitting down in front of her before gently pulling her hands away from her face.

Only then could you see the extent of her pain. Her cheeks were tear-streaked and her nose was starting to turn pink at the tip from how much she'd been rubbing at it. "What's wrong, mija?" You wiped away the tears that brimmed at the edge of her waterline with your thumb, drying it on your jeans. All you'd been trying to do was make sure she was having a good time at the party and your efforts had all but flopped.

"Why didn't he show up?" With every little crack of her voice, you could feel a piece of your heart shatter. You knew perfectly well who she was referring to her. Just like you'd been waiting for him to arrive, you caught small glimpses of Gabriella searching hopelessly around for her father. "I don't know. I wish I knew what could've been so important but I don't," you whispered, holding her close to your chest. There wasn't any use lying to her, not when you knew she'd look through it.

"Mami, me duele la cabeza," Gabriella spoke up after a couple seconds, looking up at you. You could only guess. From what you could gather, you figured that she must've been crying at least for the previous half hour. "I can't give you any pills.. but I'll read you a story once you lay down for bed," you told her, helping her stand up from her spot on the floor. Gabriella left the closet to go brush her teeth and get ready for bed, leaving you in the deafening silence of the closet.

"Party's over," you announced on your way downstairs, already imagining the flurry of complaints that would come your way. You knew that if it was up to everyone else, they would find a way to keep the party going until two in the morning. After thanking everyone for coming and sending them home with leftovers that would last them through the weekend, you cleaned up the house a bit. Picking up a couple candy wrappers from the floor and sweeping off the multitude of streamers on the floor.

You'd spent the next hour tidying up the house, cleaning up juice stains from your once pristine white floors. Well, at least Gabriella managed to have a good time. Mostly. You'd almost expected her to fall asleep by the time you went back upstairs, but you saw her peering over at you when you opened up the door. "Alright, what story did you want me to read?" You questioned, stepping over to the library she had in the corner of her room. Naming off the first suggestions that appeared in your field of vision. "Can we do The Little Prince?"

Gabriella scooted over on the bed to let you sit down next to her, listening intently as you begin to read the story. Almost like she hadn't been listening to this story for the previous two weeks. At some point, she'd learned some of the passages from memory and began to recite them from the top of her head. You finished the book, half expecting her to still be awake and wanting another book. But no. Her eyes were shut, her arms tightly wrapped around one of her plushies while her breathing slowed down.

"Que sueñes con los angelitos," you whispered, pushing a couple loose strands of her hair back before kissing her forehead. She stirred in her sleep, her grip on the blankets tightening slightly. You moved when she finally managed to still, putting the book back on the shelf where it belonged. Prepping it for tomorrow. You made your way out the room, making sure to leave her night lamp on before shutting the door behind you. At least her headache hadn't bothered her too badly.

You poured yourself a glass of wine from a trip you'd taken with Miguel to Italy, swirling the burgundy liquid around. Much how your own thoughts were currently swirling around without any clear direction. Not your usual drink of choice, you had to admit. But it was a nice distraction. The subtle glow from the moonlight illuminated the otherwise empty room, the quietness almost too much to bear. There was nothing to distract you from the thoughts running rampant inside your head, each one of them leading to what seemed to be the same conclusion.

A divorce.

Even thinking about it felt wrong, though. You and Miguel made a pact upon getting married—stating that no matter how mad the two of you got at one another, that word would never be mentioned. Not even as a joke. But you supposed that was made during a different time. A time where Miguel wouldn't put his family on the back burner simply because of work affairs. A time where you didn't have to come up with excuses for his behavior.

It wasn't just for yourself that you were considering this solution. But also for Gabriella. His absence was starting to affect her in more ways than you could possibly fathom. Not just today for her birthday, but also throughout the last couple months. You could see the different attempts that Gabriella had made to talk to her dad, most of them ending up unsuccessful. Only leaving her more and more confused. Leaving her wondering what she'd done wrong.

"¡Mami!" Gabriella called out from the other room while you were busy finishing up dinner in the kitchen, setting a separate plate for Miguel to put in the microwave. A nudging feeling that you would find the plate the same way you'd left it running through your head. You walked over to Gabi, spotting her in the kitchen table with a coloring book set in front of her. You were almost impressed by how precise she was at such a young age.

She'd managed to color in the photos without going through the lines once. She was always a bit of a perfectionist though, much like her father. It felt like staring at a reflection of a mini Miguel at times. If only he would try to maintain that relationship you knew Gabriella needed in her life.

"Yeah, what's up?" You wiped your hands on a napkin before taking a seat next to her. Looking over at the design on her book, you decided to commit the sight to memory. It wouldn't hurt to search it up later and use it as a form of gift inspiration for her birthday party coming up. "There's this parent career day tomorrow and I was hoping that you could come."

You wouldn't have expected her to ask you for help first. Given that your job mostly consisted of logistics and paperwork most of the day. The last interesting thing that had happened in the office was an affair between one of the CEO's and an intern. "You sure you don't want your dad to go instead?" Even if it wasn't by much, you figured that genetics would be more interesting than how graph analysis works. Gabriella played with her pens, avoiding looking at you.

"What's the point of asking if he's not gonna show up?" She spoke up after a couple moments, a small sigh escaping from your lips. You couldn't lie to her any better than you could lie to yourself, you knew that much. But you at least had to try. If only to stop that frown from forming on her face. "How about I present what your dad does for work? So it's almost like he's there," Except he wouldn't be. You figured it was a good enough compromise for her though. "But why can't he show up? Do we not matter to him anymore?"

The same question that clouded your thoughts while you laid in bed, arms wrapped around one of his pillows so it wouldn't feel so empty. So you wouldn't be reminded that the stupid California King was too big just for you to lay on it. "We do matter, he's just busy with work. It's how we're able to live the way we do," you answered, trying to keep your answer simple without dumbing it down. She was smart enough to understand. Smarter than you sometimes gave her credit for. "Okay. Your option sounds good."

You'd stayed up well past midnight that night, reading through a couple of Miguel's research papers in some attempt to figure out what you needed to describe. So far, all you had was talking about flasks and the basics of chemistry that you'd learned. Adorning a poster board with glitter also proved to be more work than you would've imagined, the clean-up taking longer than you would've expected. At least it didn't look too bad. Well, just enough to impress a classroom full of ten year olds.

Just the fact that Gabriella wasn't even making the effort anymore was enough to reassure the decision that maybe a divorce was necessary. Even if the thought was still painful to think about. At some level, you still loved Miguel just as much as the first day that you'd uttered those words to him. Just as much as the day you showed up on the aisle to officially intertwine your life with his. But you knew that neither you or Gabriella could be content just expecting the minimum from him.

The front door swung open, a loud groan escaping from Miguel's lips as he stepped into the threshold. His work shoes squeaked against the floors you'd just cleaned as he trudged over to the living room. "Hey, where's Gabi?" His lips barely grazed your cheek when he bent down to greet you, his voice riddled with exhaustion. He took a seat on the couch, his back slouched against the cushions. "She's asleep. Given that it's currently midnight."

You heard shuffling from his side, the bright phone screen illuminating his face. From this angle, you could see the dark circles underneath his eyes. It almost made you regret wanting to even bring this topic up. He squinted, tapping at the screen with his pointer finger to turn down the brightness. "Ah shock, you're right. I missed her birthday," Normally you would've been okay with the fact that he'd even bothered to remember the event he'd missed.

"Where were you?" You questioned, reaching over to turn on the lamp. You felt like one of those detectives in the old movies you'd watched with Miguel, the light dim enough to create an ominous shadow over yourself. "What do you mean? I was at work all day," he responded, rubbing a hand through his face. He was committed to making the lie work, you had to give him that. He even had the Alchemax lab coat and badge on. And under normal circumstances, you might've just let that slide. Like all the other previous instances.

You calmly took a sip from your drink, letting the suspense marinate for just a little while longer. "I called Alchemax. It's funny that you say that, given that their system shows that you quit months ago. So, I'll give you one more chance to tell me the truth," you told him, his eyes widening almost comedically. The silence was enough of a tell for you to realize that you had him cornered now. He managed to meet your gaze after a couple seconds, speaking almost begrudgingly, "You called my job?"

You gave him a dirty look, almost surprised that it was what he was choosing to focus on. "Right, right. Not the point," he muttered, rubbing his temples. The silence was almost deafening, the two of you trying to keep things quiet for the sake of keeping some normalcy in front of Gabriella. "She kept asking about you, you know?" You started off, setting the wine glass with a thump before speaking again, "I kept lying to her. Telling her that something at work was more important than you being able to show up to her party."

"I want a divorce." It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and you could almost see the different wheels in his head work. The wedding ring around your finger suddenly felt too heavy, the life that the two of you built together threatening to crash down in a mere matter of seconds just by that single sentence. "The least that you could do now is tell me the truth. Because what I'm imagining right now is that you have some kind of secret family on the down low."

In your defense, what more were you supposed to think? Especially when he's made no effort to tell you anything up to this point? You picked up the wine glass, glancing over at him to see what he'd do now. You'd be lying if you said that you fully expected him to start telling you the truth. But you hoped he did. If only to make you reconsider the idea of getting a divorce. If only to let you sleep better at night.

"Okay. Fine, I'll tell you. Just please.. consider the divorce one more time. Please. And believe me when I say there is no other family," he stood up from his spot, his hands clasped together as he stood in front of you. This was starting to sound dangerously similar to the number of excuses that he'd given you before but you decided on giving him the benefit of the doubt. You stayed silent and he took that as a cue to continue, "I haven't been around because... I'm Spider-Man."

The wine in your mouth poured down your nose, the liquid have gone down the wrong pipe. You coughed, attempting to clear your throat as the words settled in. There was no way that he was being serious. But the way that he was looking at you made it seem like he was. "And I know that it doesn't justify putting the two of you on the back burner but there's a lot of crime in Nueva York and throughout the universes in case you haven't realized." Universes?

Now you were certain he'd either lost it or he was just pulling excuses out of his ass. Probably a combination of both if you had to guess. "You're kidding," you deadpanned, waiting for some kind of indication that this was all just a joke. He flicked his wrist, a string of what seemed to be a web sticking onto the lamp next to you. You reached over, tentatively scooping the substance onto your pointer finger to examine what it was. It was indeed.. a web. You were starting to wonder if you'd drunk too much wine.

Nope. Still half a glass left. You punched the side of your arm, waiting for some kind of indication that you were dreaming. All you received was a sharp shot of pain though. Now all you had left to do was actually acknowledge the situation. Accept the fact that your husband was the self-proclaimed vigilante of Nueva York.

"Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" You managed to ask after the initial shock had died down, clearing your throat. He shifted his feet awkwardly, sitting down next to you once more. "Because I've seen too many instances of this play out. I didn't want any danger to come to you after you found out," he responded, his hands reaching out to hold your own. "But please, trust me. I only have eyes for you. Every single of my absences has been for the better of Nueva York."

It all started to make sense, though. The amount of files scattered on his desk, information on previous villains. A couple comic books from the previous Spider-Man on his bedside table. The awkward disappearances when the two of you were out on the street.

"Please say something," he urged after a couple seconds of your silence, his calloused thumb rubbing small circles on your hand. What could you really say, though? It felt wrong to still be pissed off at him while he went off to save the city, and yet.. you still couldn't find it in yourself to forgive him just yet. "I know that the city of Nueva York needs you. But so does Gabriella. She doesn't deserve to be questioning what she's doing wrong as a child."

He was about to speak up but you quickly interrupted him, "She thinks she's not doing enough. That all those trophies in her room aren't enough for you to be proud of her. I beg of you to find some kind of balance before you end up losing the both of us for good." With that, you downed the rest of your wine before retreating to the kitchen to clean up the glass. You expected him to come back to bed, though you hadn't heard him come in after half an hour of tossing and turning. All you heard was the guest room door being opened.

You were awoken to the sweet scent of buttermilk, all kinds of different alarms going off in your head. The thought of Gabriella burning herself in the kitchen was starting to imprint itself in your brain. It certainly wasn't Miguel. Despite how groggy you were, you quickly rubbed your eyes and made your way over to the kitchen. Niña Bonita welcomed you as soon as you stepped inside, noticing Miguel stirring some batter with Gabriella by his side. At least she wasn't too close to the stove.

"Mi niña bonita, my dulce princesa," he hummed along to the song, gently ruffling Gabriella's hair. You stood at the doorway in silence, a small smile making itself known on your face despite how mad you were at Miguel. Gabriella attempted to push off his hands, but even she couldn't hide how much she was enjoying this time with him. "Mami, you finally got up!" Gabriella called you over once she noticed you.

"When'd you take the time to learn how to make these?" Usually it was you that took care of the cooking. "I'm not completely useless in the kitchen, I'll have you know," Miguel retorted, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. Though you knew better. You could see a couple pancake pieces sticking up to the ceiling. Just how long had he been up to try to perfect this skill for Gabriella? "Take a seat, they'll almost be done. The sous chef's been doing an excellent job helping."

"Papi promised we'd go to the aquarium today, to make up for missing my birthday," Gabriella announced as you were in the middle of pouring syrup onto your pancakes. You had to forcibly stop yourself from reacting, trying to ensure that you wouldn't be having syrup with a side of pancakes. "You sure you can handle it?" You gritted under your teeth when Gabriella went to retrieve her tablet in the living room. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I couldn't. Haven't given you any reason to but have some faith in me."

You raised your brows, waiting for him to realize just how contradictory that statement was. Not that it ever came, though. "Can I stay the night over at my friend's house?" Gabriella piped once she finished her pancakes, all too eager to grab your plate along with Miguel's. You glanced over at Miguel, seeing the resistance on his expression. "Which friend is it?" You questioned, trying to rack your brain if it was something that she mentioned before. "The one from soccer practice, Candice."

After making some calls to Candice's mom to make sure that sleepover was actually something that she was aware of, you gave Gabriella the go-ahead. She practically rushed into her bedroom after the three of you had finished with breakfast, picking out a pair of pajamas and clothes before stuffing them into her backpack. Triple checking it so there would be no reason for room to doubt her preparation. While she was in the shower, you snuck in her stuffed animal. Just as a safety precaution.

The trip to the aquarium was honestly more trouble than it was worth, in your opinion. Parking was nearly impossible, the vein on Miguel's forehead threatening to pop with each turn that he made around the lot. Waiting patiently for whatever spot would open up for half an hour before realizing that no one was leaving. Even Gabriella had started to get fidgety in the back seat, asking Miguel if you all were there yet over and over again. "Just get the valet, I'm sure it won't be that expensive," you suggested, hoping that it wouldn't add on to the frustration Miguel was feeling.

"Wait, hold on," like a beacon of hope, one of the spots opened up just as soon as you said that. Before he had the chance to park the car though, one of the newly arriving guests immediately seized the opportunity and took it before he had the chance. With one slam to the steering wheel, he relented and went over to get in line for the valet parking. "Here, you can watch a documentary on turtles," you pulled it up on your phone before leaving, not that you thought you would have to use it. And just like that, Gabriella immersed herself on what was on the screen.

Seeing the price of valet parking almost made you want to regret ever suggesting at all. Seriously, who charged $50 just for a parking spot? Gabriella let her grip on your phone slip when she was handing it to you, your brows furrowing as you already started to imagine the crack on screen just from the sound it made hitting the concrete. You quickly picked up, pocketing it up before Gabriella started to feel guilty. "Don't worry about it. I was due for a new one anyways," you assured her, holding to her hand while Miguel held her other one.

The three of you were visibly annoyed as soon as you stepped foot into the aquarium, the excitement towards this trip dying down with every single thing that kept going wrong. Not only had it taken half an hour and $50 to even enter, but now, none of the shows were even available? Even the dolphins had gone down with some kind of fish flu. Why it was even so full was beyond you. "Come on, we'll still have a good time," Miguel sounded like he was trying to collectively convince all three of you, offering Gabriella a piggy back ride as compensation.

Gabriella didn't seem to mind it too much, her head raised like she was royalty while perched on Miguel's shoulders. His grip on her legs was tight, assuring she wouldn't fall down. Given that she had a tendency to test herself and lean as forward as she could when one of the fish approached. You'd never seen her this excited about a trip before. You quickly realized the reason for her excitement. Miguel kept giving her subtle facts about each of the different species that you approached, whether from his own brain or the information board put up.

And she held on to every single word that escaped from his mouth, listening to him like he was the most interesting man in the world.

After seeing how full the gift shop was at the end of the tour, you decided to wait outside with a couple other guests. All you could hope was that Miguel would talk to her while the two of them were inside, give her some of that connection that she longed for. She came back bouncing back with a shark plushie— one identical to the one Miguel had gotten you on a prior date. Just the sight make your resolve melt a bit. You glanced over at Miguel, seeing him give you a shrug. "It's what the princess wanted."

Exiting the aquarium was almost as troublesome as entering, a line of cars parked at the exit. Gabriella didn't seem to mind it as much, plotting a story line with her as a mermaid with the shark. It'd been a while since you got the chance to see her be so animated. Throughout the car ride, she couldn't stop talking about how the trip at the aquarium and explaining the exhibits to you in explicit detail. Well, that was until you got to Candice's house. She was quick to leave as soon as she saw her friend waiting outside, her two feet almost too slow to match her energy.

The tension in the air was thick from the moment Gabriella had departed the car but it was much more obvious now that the two of you were stuck in a room together. After making a beeline to go change into a pair of shorts and a shirt—calling it a night, you were surprised to find Miguel still laying on the bed. Idly tapping at his phone with one finger, the faint sound of a Candy Crush!reaching your ears. You figured that he would've left to go monitor the city after spending the day with Gabriella. Maybe he was determined to make it work this time around.

No.

You couldn't start thinking that way just because he bothered to stick around for one evening.

He settled in between your legs, continuing to tap away at the screen. As much as you wanted to protest, you decided not to. From this angle, you could see him struggling with solving level 3976. How much time had he seriously dedicated to this game? Time that he hadn't spent dedicating towards you. Great. Just the thought was enough to piss you off once more. You grabbed your own phone from the bed stand, forcing yourself not to roll your eyes every time one of those stupid family channels showed up. If you had to bet, you'd guess their marriage wasn't that good either.

Miguel looked up at you from his spot in between your legs, with furrowed brows and brown irises practically boring into you. He looked so needy.. so desperate. "Please mamita, I need you. I need to touch you again," he pleaded, his lips leaving a searing sensation as he kissed up your leg. It'd been too long since you'd received any form of intimacy from anything other than your fingers and your vibrator. And while they did get the job done, they didn't exactly offer this kind of foreplay.

He moved the flimsy material of your pajama shorts to the side, kissing the innermost part of your thighs. Your fingers tugged at the strands, trying to pull him to your cunt. With every single teasing breath against the thin material, you could feel yourself clenching around nothing and dripping onto your panties. "Not yet," and the bastard had the nerve to laugh. It was the last sound you heard before you felt a small sting on your thigh, your eyes almost popping out of your skull. When he said he was Spider-Man, you'd been expecting the whole swinging around.

What you hadn't been expecting, however, was a pair of fangs that were almost the same length as your head. Just how far did the extent of these spider powers go? You were thinking of every possibility, unaware that you'd even spaced out. He regained your attention by pulling the waistband of your shorts, the elastic snapping against your skin. "Only thing you have to be focused is on me," he spoke up before you had the chance to say anything, moving to take off your shorts off. You raised your hips, your panties and shorts falling off in one swift motion.

He'd been nothing but desperate earlier, but his touch almost seemed reverent this time around. Kissing up your legs as if you were something to worship, drinking up your gasps as if they were the finest tunes he'd ever listened to. His hands pried your thighs open, leaving you completely exposed to him. Only before he got the chance to lean in was that you got the chance to see just how desperate for this he truly was. His pointer finger ran through your folds, collecting whatever slick had started to accumulate.

"You say you want a divorce but this pretty cunt's telling me a different thing," almost like he was timing it—which he was, he pulled his fingers out of your cunt. A loud squelch echoed through the otherwise silent room, a small groan escaping from your lips. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him hear your moans. "Let me hear you mamita. Let me hear good I'm making you feel," he prodded, his fingers moving in a scissoring motions. You bit on your bottom lip, a muffled moan escaping your lips.

"Eso, no me nieges. Te lo ruego."

He pulled his fingers out of your cunt, his eyes boring into yours as he licked the glistening slick off them. Practically feining to get every single drop. He leaned in to be face-level with your cunt, licking a stripe up your folds before parting them apart with his tongue. "Oh fuck," the moan slipped out of your lips before you had a chance to think better of it, the small chuckle he let out against your cunt vibrating throughout your body. His head moved from side to side, practically engulfing himself in between your legs with his nose pressing against your clit.

Your legs trembled in his grasp, struggling to keep them open when all you wanted to do was close them around his head. You wanted him to stop. You wanted him to keep going. The constant whiplash was enough to make you into a whining mess underneath him, despite your better judgement. "Please," you didn't even make sense to yourself. You weren't exactly sure what it is that you were even begging for. "Shh, it's okay. I'll give you what you need," and yet, he seemed to understand your pleas perfectly.

His mouth closed around your clit, his eyes boring into yours as he sucked on the neglected nub. Your nails dug into his scalp, a groan escaping from his lips. Like a domino effect, that small groan vibrated against your clit which caused you to only tighten your grip on his hair. You bucked your hips to meet his lips, his grip on your legs tightening. "I got you mamita, just let me take my time pleasing you," he murmured, kissing a trail from your inner thigh to your folds once more. His tongue fell flat, licking a stripe up your glistening folds.

The tip of his tongue prodded at your entrance before the wet muscle pushed inside, your juices leaking down to his mouth almost instantaneously. If anything, he didn't seem to mind it. He almost looked like he was in complete bliss. Miguel made no attempt to continue the ploy he'd started with the eye contact earlier, his eyes shut as he got lost in the taste of your essence. "Oh, Mig, Mig, Mig-" Broken fragments of his name escaped from your lips as his pointer finger rubbed small circles on your clit, the dual stimulation enough to have your toes curling.

You reached down to play with your erect nipples, rolling them in between your fingers. The orgasm you were chasing was so close, so attainable. "Gonna cum, gonna cum," every single word from your vocabulary seemed limited. All you could do was repeat yourself and hope that he would get the picture. "That's it, you got it," he coaxed you into an orgasm, your toes curling and your grip on his hair tightening. If anything, he seemed to revel in how you were gripping him.

Every word at the tip of your tongue failed you as you came with a shudder, your release coating his mouth and chin in the process. Miguel eagerly took every drop that you had to give, even going back into your cunt to get anything that he might've missed. You practically had to push him off before he started to eat you out again. While you knew that he could handle it, you weren't too sure that you could. You let your back hit the mattress, basking in the afterglow from your orgasm.

Before Miguel had the chance to finish with unbuttoning his pants, you took the chance to clear your throat. His hands halted their movements, his eyes shooting up to you like a deer caught in headlights. "With the way you've been acting, do you seriously think you've earned the right to fuck me?" You questioned, seeing his expression visibly deflate as he removed his hands from the buttons. "Please. I'll do anything, mi vida. Es tortura tenerte tan cerca y no poder tocarte," it was a rare sight to see.

Miguel prided himself in being above begging. And yet, here he was.

"Go on and lay on the bed for me," your tone offered no room for protests, his steps quick as he went to lay down on the bed. You trailed your hand from his knee to his crotch, cupping his heavy balls in your palm. "Look at me and tell me you have the right to fuck me, if that's the case," you spoke up, looking over at him as your hand switched from one ball to the other. Giving each the same amount of attention. You watched as he opened his mouth, closed it back up again, and repeated the process until he eventually gave up.

"I can't," he huffed out, almost in a whisper. You reached over in your bedside table, pulling out your trusty vibrator. "And why's that?" You asked him, your touch featherlight when you rubbed the vibrator against the outline of his cock. Just enough to give him a taste of what he could have. "Because I don't deserve to fuck you. I know. But I'm still selfish," he admitted after a while, his words barely above a whisper. Good enough of an answer for now.

A shaky groan escaped from his lips when you turned the vibrator on, the lowest intensity almost too painful to bear. Shudders ran across his body as you rubbed the vibrator on the tip of his cock, sliding it down to his frenulum. "Ngh, don't stop," his voice was practically a whimper by this point, his hips bucking to meet your touch. Not that you allowed for that continue for long though. You pushed your thighs down with one hand, his muscles flexing underneath your grasp.

You moved the vibrator to rest against the tip of his cock, precum leaking onto the tip of it. You tentatively brought it up to your lips, swirling your tongue around it as the familiar salty taste overwhelmed your senses. His eyes were locked on yours, his hips bucking up in some miserable attempt to gain some friction. You set the vibrator back on the tip of his cock, a hiss escaping from his lips. "Turn it up."

"What's the magic word?" You shifted to grab the remote, lowering the intensity despite the groans that escaped from his lips. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, if you had to be honest. Well, the closest he could get to that point anyways. "Pl.." he couldn't finish his sentence, a choked groan escaping from his lips. He looked over at you, like he was expecting you to understand. And while you did, you also wanted him to use his words. Hear how pretty he sounded begging.

"P-Ple-nghh."

“Plea-shockk."

"P-Ay mierda."

It was a cruel game you were playing, you were aware. You kept the vibrator at the same speed, raising a brow as you looked at him. "Sounds like you don't really want it," you taunted, deciding to put the vibrator to the highest level possible. Only for a fraction of a second, though. Just as quickly as relief had come for him, it was gone. He let out a groan, trying to will the word to slip out of his mouth. Just one word.

"Please," it seemed like your little show of motivation had finally paid off. You turned the intensity of the vibrator gradually this time around, allowing him to get used to the sensation. "See what you get when you ask nicely," you decided to taunt him even further despite knowing better. You knew your cunt would be paying the consequences for your relentless teasing later in the night. Not like the thought mattered now, though. Not when you had Miguel begging and at the verge of tears just for your touch.

His balls felt heavy to the touch, almost like he was at the point of cumming. You gave both of them equal attention, rolling them in your hand. Miguel's eyes could only clamp shut, his mouth parted. "Please let me cum, so close," he begged so nicely, a couple drops of precum leaking down to your thigh. You could always be generous and let him cum. Then again, the idea of prolonging his orgasm was just too enticing to resist. Each buck of his hips became more erratic, more needy. Before he got to that point of climax, you pulled the vibrator away from his cock.

"I asked nicely," he pointed out, his voice cracking slightly. He scrambled to sit up, almost searching your expression to see if he'd done something wrong. "I'm aware," you simply responded, wiping your vibrator before placing it on the nightstand to clean it throughly later. "I just didn't feel like letting you," you added, waiting to see if he'd offer more resistance. You could see he wanted to say something, but he was holding himself from saying anything. Smart man.

Miguel set a pillow underneath your stomach, your back set in a mean arch as you laid on it. He stepped behind you, his thumb rubbing against your folds before he dipped it inside. Your wetness immediately engulfed his finger, your walls stretching out as he pushed it deeper inside. "What happened to the attitude you had earlier, hm?" He used the same taunting tone that you had, mocking you. A protest died in your throat as the tip of his cock went inside your folds, your head craning back to look at him.

"Just the t-"

"Yes, yes, just the tip. I promise," he cut you off before you had the chance to finish speaking, rolling his eyes. You were already testing his patience by allowing just the tip. He retracted, the tip of his cock an angry shade of red as precum dripped down his shaft. Your walls clenched and unclenched rhythmically, your own body betraying your resolve. He pushed the tip inside once more, keeping it inside your wet cunt. "Please, let me fuck you properly. You're punishing both of us, not just me."

And here you would've figured that his negotiations were reserved just for the state of Nueva York. You shook your head, determined to see this through. "If it's not enough for you, we can just stop here," And how you wished your voice would've come out with more bite. Now you sounded just as needy as he did. Maybe even more. "No, no, it's fine," he was quick to respond, retracting. It was almost painful how slow he was going, almost making you want to give up on this whole argument. Getting stubborn wasn't getting you anywhere.

"Please let me fuck you properly," he pleaded after a couple thrusts, his hands on your hips. Well. At least you didn't have to give in first. "Fine," you tried to sound annoyed, though you weren't convincing him any better than you were yourself. A strangled gasp left your mouth as he bottomed out, your cunt stretched out to the brim. Your walls clenched against his shaft rhythmically, trying to get used to the intrusion. Your hands reached over for the pillow above you, your grip on it tightening as he pulled out.

His skin slapped against your own with each thrust that he made, his grip on your hips tightening. "Don't stop, Mig! So, so good," he'd turned you into a babbling mess within a matter of seconds. "Wasn't planning on it," he responded quickly, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust. You craned your head to look at him, the sight having a new wave of arousal coat his cock. His head was lolled back, his face contorted into one of pure pleasure. You rocked your hips to match his rhythm to the best of his ability, your ass smacking against his hips with every movement.

"Oh shock, slow down," he was mesmerized by the sight of your ass rippling with each move that you made, one of his hands reaching down to cup the flesh. "Not gonna last long if you keep at it," he added, raising his hand before giving your ass a slap. The mixture of pain and pleasure mixed together, your own release starting to approach. "Fill me up, Mig!" You could only whine that out, a groan escaping from his lips at your words. The hand on your ass moved down to your clit, his thumb rubbing on the nub in circles. Fervent circles to match the pace of his sloppy thrusts.

You clamped tightly around his cock, your arousal coming out of you in waves. Your stomach hit the pillow underneath you, your body giving out on you. As soon as you clamped around him, Miguel knew his own orgasm wasn't too far off. With one final thrust, he shot his cum up your cunt. Filling you up like you'd asked. He pulled his flaccid cock out of you a couple moments later, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers pushed back the cum threatening to drip down before he went over to get a wet towel to clean you up.

"It shouldn't take me threatening to divorce you for you to get your act together," you spoke up once you managed to catch your breath, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Not exactly the topic that you would've imagined talking about after sex. But you figured it was important for him to know that just a good lay wouldn't be enough to resolve this issue. He swiped his arm over his forehead, wiping away at nonexistent sweat beads. Something to do while he tried to figure out what to say.

"I know. And I'm sorry that it ever got to this point, I promise that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you how worthy I am to be next to you," he spoke up after a few moments, turning to face you. His hands itched to be wrapped around you, for some semblance of that intimacy that he'd neglected for so long. But he didn't make any effort to touch you. He knew it'd take a while for you to get to that point. The conflicted expression on your face was enough to tell him that you didn't believe him.

And it's not like you were looking forward to starting any issues between the two of you. But with the amount of empty promises and "I'm sorry's", you figured that you'd earned the right to doubt him. You got up, putting up your pajamas in an attempt to divert the conversation. You didn't want to voice that you were worried about him failing to fulfill his promise. "I know you don't believe me, but I promise I'll do my best to prove it to you," he whispered, pulling the blanket over the two of you before exhaustion overtook your body.

Instead of the usual emptiness that you'd grown used to waking up to, you found Miguel laying by your side with his arms tightly wrapped around your body. Like he didn't want to let you go. "I can feel you staring," he mumbled, half asleep as he begun to stir. He kept one arm wrapped around you, bringing the other hand up to his face to rub his eyes. "Just surprised you're not at work yet," you responded, pushing a couple stray hairs away from his forehead. "Well, I'm trying to prioritize my family a bit more."

His promises didn't feel as empty as the ones he'd spoken about before. He seemed determined to bring them into fruition this time around. Or at least you hoped that he would. For you and Gabriella. "I know it doesn't amount to much with how many times I've said it, but I really am sorry for neglecting you for so long. I got so carried away into maintaining the safety of Nueva York that I forgot to maintain my own marriage."

"I know you can't be everywhere at once. Me and Gabriella are aware you have responsibilities but still.. I don't want to have to feel like I'm being selfish for asking for some time with my husband," you spoke up after a couple seconds, looking over at him. Neither of you made any attempt to leave your bed just yet, too engulfed in the temporary state of bliss. "And you won't have to feel that way anymore, I promise."

Maybe things would work out for the better this time around.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @hardlystrictlystarwars @koffcoff

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏: 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 + 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Warnings: breeding kink, the reader is used with mostly feminine terms, mentions of having children, pet names (corazón, princesa, cariña, good girl, and cumdump), implication of cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, mating press, mention of cervix, and creampie

Word Count: 0.8k

a/n: ya'll i tried my best lmao. also first kinktober and i'm already so late with it

Miguel’s idea of a perfect life is simple. Him, you, and a child in a happy home. His past doesn’t howl him, and he never has to worry about anything because he’ll be satisfied. When you gushed about having essentially the same dream one day, he knew it had to be a reality. He had to make it a reality. You pregnant with his child, oh, it was perfect.

“Corazón,” he said after coming up from between your thighs after drawing out your orgasms. His arms hold your legs over his shoulders while you feel your pussy quiver from overstimulation. Your thighs slightly ache from being up on his big shoulders.

“Y-yes?” you ask almost a whisper.

“I want…” he’s not sure where to begin. “I want to make you mine forever.” You laugh a bit.

“You already do,” you answer.

“I mean, I want you to have my child,” he clarifies. “I want you to be the carrier of my child.” You’re somewhat shocked to hear this. It gives you the energy to sit up a bit.

“You do?” you ask. You can’t help but feel yourself get aroused. The idea of his cum staying in you and him getting you pregnant is…everything you could ever want. “Please,” you begin to beg. “Please fill me with your cum. I want you to breed me.” He moves your legs off his shoulders and comes up to kiss you. His fangs playfully nip at your bottom lip, showing his excitement.

His hands move to cup your breasts, his fingers circling your nipples. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close. He moves down to your neck and bites at it; you moan at the feeling of his fangs digging slightly into your skin.

“Mi-Miguel,” you moan. “You don’t have to hold yourself back for my sake.”

Hearing you say that makes him change completely. It is such a rush for him when you let him absolutely ruin you.

“Eres mi debilidad,” he says. He lifts himself up and grabs your legs. He folds them into your chest with your pussy exposed to him. “You’re still so wet even after all this?” You look away in slight embarrassment. “How adorable.” His strong arms push your thighs onto your chest, forcing you down onto the mattress.

Miguel’s expression is feral, with his teeth clamped together, showing his large fangs, and his eyes flash a dark red. He finally thrusts into you hard and doesn’t give you time to readjust to his length and girth. You cry out from his actions and grip the bedsheets under you.

“From now on,” Miguel starts. “You will be my cumdump. Nothing will be going to waste when I’m done.” He thrusts in and out of you at a fast pace. His hips snap against yours while his cock hits your cervix, brushing past your sensitive spot. His towering frame is hunched over to give your pussy all his attention. His forehead dusted with sweat, and his hair slicked back; god, he’s never looked sexier. He grunts loudly as his cock doesn’t waver from its attack on your pussy.

“Gonna fill this pussy up so good,” he grunts as if lost in the thought. You feel your pussy hug around his cock, making his grunts turn into small moans. “Fuck, princesa.” You feel tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, but the idea of his cum in you keeps you from spilling over the edge.

“You wanna cum?” Miguel asks you. You look up at him and nod your head.

“Please, please let me cum, and then you can fill me up as much as you want,” you beg.

“So greedy,” he says. He moves his hands and lets you place your legs on his shoulders. He brings one hand to keep you stable on your hip and the other to your pussy. He begins rubbing your clit quickly, and the sound of your pussy getting wetter, mixed with his cock slamming into you, fills your ears. His thumb plays with your clit, and you feel yourself grow warm, and your thighs shake. “Cum, cariña.” With his go-ahead, your orgasm washes through you, and you cum on his cock. Your screams are loud enough for anyone else to hear, and your nails practically rip the sheets. “That’s a good girl,” Miguel compliments.

After you’ve caught your breath, he moves his hands back to your thighs and pushes them to your chest, just like before. His cock growing more impatient by the minute, wanting to breed.

“Fuck,” Miguel curses. He thrusts into you hard and shoots ropes of cum within you. However, he does not stop and continues to fuck you even with his cum in you. The mixture of cum helps his cock thrust into you faster. He’s not letting any cum go to waste.

“Mi-Miguel,” you cry, unsure what you’re asking of him.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he promises. “Your pussy will only know my cum.” His promise is serious. He’s going to fuck you until he’s satisfied.

。·ﾟﾟ·　·ﾟﾟ·。

He has a breeding kink and he fucks y/n for hours on end

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — addicted + miguel; one shot

cw: nsfw, smut, established relationship, dialogue heavy, unprotected sex, breeding! kink, softdom! miguel, afab! reader

an: i love how as a fanbase we have collectively decided that this man has a massive breeding kink!! thank you for the request <33

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

“quiet, baby,” miguel’s deep voice whispers, looking down at you as he towers over, hips thrusting in and out of you like there’s no tomorrow. “don’t wanna get caught now, do we?” he purrs, gently smoothly down your pretty hair with his large hand, it slowly coming down to tip your face up to look at him.

the callouses tickle your chin, strangely adding to the sensuality, and you can’t help but whine, it’s building like a fury in you, the knot tightening and not coming undone. you try to say his name, too much of a struggle though, even to bubble out his nickname, and when you do try, it just comes out as a random spew of incoherent language only decipherable as moans and whimpers.

“yeah, baby? what is it?” he looks so good like this. lazy smirk emphasising his soft dimples, the shine of his fanged canines and the sultriness of his voice. his pretty chestnut hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead, humidity volumising the locks and heaving them down so that he looked like he just came out the shower, all steamy and smelling so good.

but you know how miguel can get ahead of himself. how you’re ‘too much’ and he just ‘can’t help it’ when he’s balls deep inside you. the way he looks at you when peter babbles stupid babyish words with mayday and times when he randomly says things like ‘solana sounds like a pretty name for a girl, don’t you think?’ so it’s your responsibility, despite the eyes-rolling-into your-skull feeling of his dick inside you, to prevent an…accident.

“miguel. pull out.” you just barely sound out through swallows of saliva from how good he’s bruising your pussy.

he benignly chuckles: “i’m not sure if i want to, baby.” he groans at the tightening of your pussy, cursing in spanish about the feeling.

“you feel way too fucking good, and you’d make such a pretty mama,” he rubs your belly and coos at you with only your helpless hums of the prefix syllable ‘m’: gibberish to anyone— but miguel’s not just anyone. he’s quick-witted and reads you like a book and he knows, in your own fucked-out, drunk-on-sex way, you’re trying to say his name. so he indulges.

“say something, baby,” he kisses you passionately with cognisance— “i know you wanna fucking say something,”

his hips slam into you so harshly, it makes your heart jump up and down in your rib cage: so fierce.

“miguel…”

he bounces you up further into him, hands stretching the plushness of your ass.

you lull your head over his shoulder, it’s too heavy to keep upright, and your lips graze his ear, your sweet moans pumping blood through him faster and thicker than anything ever could.

he softly speaks, eyes darting to his lower left corner, “what is it? what do you need, honey?” unlike his earlier cocky manner, there’s a genuineness weaved in his tone.

your moans only hiccup as a response, the up- down oscillation stirring arousal in your womb, low and deep, clouding your mind.

he comes straight out with it, fervour in his lilt, “you want me to fuck a baby into you? mmm? is that what it is?”

he bucks his hips into you so suddenly and your eyes squint shut and your breaths divide into shorter, more frequent inhale-exhales and so desperately do you voice a meek: “yes.”

so lovingly does he kiss your cheek, the soft pop finalising his thorough ploughs and he comes ropes, gelling up your velvety, plush insides.

he rubs his hand against your belly like before, presses into it and doughs the flesh, prideful with what he’s accomplished.

“you feel that, baby? you can almost see it.” he kisses your neck then your lips, nourishing the tiny little scratches he left nipping your skin earlier.

he thinks a few smooches is enough but once he starts he can’t stop, he can’t fucking stop. your lips against his just remind him of how much he’s in love with you, how he bleeds for you, thinks of you. how it all feels like a dream even while everything around him is tangible. your soft lips, your cinched waist, the slope of your neck, and the absolute heaven of you sucking him in just so good.

“look at what you do to me.” he reminds you through firm kisses.

“i know.” you kiss back, hands toying with his hair.

“i want it again. i wanna come in you again.” he lowly breathes, like confessing a sin: addicted.

you rub your nose against his cheek and your lips find his ear again, whispering in oh-so-sultry ways: “okay.”

based on the brilliant idea that @magicalfreakcowboylawyer sent me 😮‍💨🫵

enjoy ;)

18+ CONTENT MDNI

warnings - miguel is obsessed w youuu >:), a bit loco if you will, size kink (?), breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy,

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“You’re just such a pretty girl, aren’t you?” You coo to Mayday, her fingers wrapped around your thumbs as she sits on your lap, facing you. She giggles, shaking her fists and your hands together. You nod and smile at her.

“Oh, yes you are!” You exclaim, kissing her cheek. Your cheeks started to hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing at her, she was just too adorable to stop. Hobie slumped into the couch next to you, reaching over to squish May’s cheeks briefly, giving her a small nod. May laughed and crawled over to his lap despite his protests. You laugh and look around the lounge room, noticing a tall figure in the doorway.

Miguel walked past the open door to the lounge, hearing laughter. He takes a few steps backwards, peeking into the room, seeing you and May on the couch. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You don’t notice him, thankfully—so he takes his time admiring you. The way you hold Mayday, smiling and laughing at her.

You’d make such a good mommy…

You push a piece of hair behind your shoulder when she goes to grab it, shaking your head. He almost smiles until Hobie enters the room. Miguel makes brief eye contact with you and watches you rise and walk towards the small kitchenette in the lounge, reaching for a cup on the top shelf.

God, look at you…you need me. You’d look so good with me. I’d leave all the cups on the top shelf just to watch you struggle like that, querida.

Miguel suddenly noticed you staring back at him, and stood up straight as you walked towards him.

“Could you help me grab a mug?” You ask so politely that all of Miguel’s sanity went out the goddamn window as he nodded and followed you like a puppy.

See? You DO need me.

You pointed to the top shelf and stood next to the counter. He reached and grabbed it for you before Mayday came hanging on a web between the two of you. She babbles at you and you poke her cheeks. Miguel takes a deep breath.

You want a baby, don’t you? You’d look so pretty all pregnant with my babies—full of me.

Miguel keeps a straight face watching Mayday drop into your arms, as he places the mug on the counter.

I’d have you begging me to stuff you full of my cum, begging me to give you a baby

Miguel just stares and stares at you and Mayday. You’d feel uncomfortable if it were anyone else but him.

I’d fuck you everywhere to make sure you were pregnant, even right here on this cou—

“—Miguel?” Your sweet voice pulls him out of his filthy thoughts. He raises his eyebrows.

“What?” He blurts out, breathless as he feels an embarrassing tent growing in his pants. He crosses his hands over his crotch.

“I asked if you wanted any coffee?” You ask in such a motherly, kind tone, with a smile that doesn’t help his growing erection. It’s as if every word you say goes straight to his dick. It’s embarrassing really. Mayday is back playing in Hobie’s lap on the couch and you make a face at her from where you stand. Miguel shakes his head no, and you turn around to prepare your coffee. He immediately leaves the lounge, heading to his room where he can quickly jerk off to the thoughts of your sweet, polite voice, imagining how you’d sound begging for him go stuff you full of his cum.

Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Purely self indulgent Shameless Smut under the cut!!

No age in bio = immediate block/Minors do not interact.

General: rough sex, porn with a tad bit of plot, light bondage, choking, name calling, potential exhibition/slight humiliation, fang play, unprotected sex(please practice safe sex), cream pie

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

Out of all the outcomes in the whole universe, you didn’t expect to be encountering this one. Currently, you were putting on a show for Miguel. You had told him you were up to let him command and order you around for tonight. You weren’t anticipating him to go in this direction. He had always been the first one to break and pound you senseless, so for him to request a masturbation show was new but not unwelcome. You at least got to tease and bait him harder than usual, really selling it as you were bent over the bed. You also got off of him slowly stroking himself and giving you all the praise each time you were rough with yourself.

“Such a good little whore. Is this how you play with yourself when I’m not here to fill you?” He purred as you alternated between fingering yourself and spreading your lower lips. You could only lightly moan in response, earning a chuckle from him as he finally got up.

“I think I’m done with the show, babe. Get on the bed on your back.” He growled lightly as he teased you by smacking your ass.

You quickly obliged, hoping he would fuck you fast; your lower parts had become so wet you were sure he could slide in and out if he wanted.

Before he joined you on the bed, he reached into the closet and pulled out one of his belts, and you wiggled your hips in excitement, knowing what he wanted. You flipped over with your hands behind your back, earning a smile from him as he got on the bed and used the belt to make a pseudo bondage.

“Good girl, now you remember our safe word?” He purred, moving you to your back again. You nodded. “Purple.”

You moaned lightly as he got over you, pressing his hard cock against your all-too-wet cunt. He gave a slight thrust up, hitting your clit and earning a louder moan. Before you could beg, he moved your head to the side, kissing the exposed part of your neck.

He started with kisses; then it slowly turned to gentle biting up and down. He was careful not to puncture the skin as he dragged his teeth down your neck, earning shaking breathing and your hips lifting to try to get some relief. He growled, not helping that heat below as he gently kissed and bit his way down your body. He stopped at your chest briefly, giving your breasts some love. He massaged one as he sucked and licked one teasing the nipple. You moaned and whined lightly, “Please, Miguel-please, I wanna be used.” You begged as he went lower, leaving small bite marks trailing down your stomach to your thighs.

“I know, sweetheart, but you’re all mine tonight, and I’ll use you as I please.” he scolded as he gave you a teasing lick, making you jump slightly at the sudden feeling. He laughed, propping your thighs over his shoulders so his head sat neatly between them. He eyed you hungrily before he started to tease. His tongue lolled up and down. Going from your entrance, barely going in, then up to your clit, making sure to wiggle his tongue, causing you to lift your hip higher. He smiled, pulling your hips down and holding them in place as he teased you, your moans and small beggings making him harder than before.

You were so close, yet so far, you desperately needed to be fucked and felt a familiar ache in your groin area. He was going so slow, and his fingers dug into your hip. The mixture of his sharp nails and slow teasings drove you mad.

“God, please, Miguel use me! I want your cock to wreck me!” You begged, moaning loudly as his tongue reached your clit again. You felt his fingers dig deeper and before you could react, he started to suck and lick your clit. Pants and moans were all the sounds you could make as he teased and almost overstimulated your cunt. He let go with a soft moan. You grew hopeful but then saw his evil smile.

“Now now, tell me toy.” He crawled over you putting his hand over your throat and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Who’s in charge here?” You didn’t know how to respond. Part of you didn’t want to, wanting to see how he would react and react he did.

“Being a brat? Fine, it seems I need to put you in your place.” He hissed as he roughly thrust into you without warning; with his free hand, Miguel pushed one of your legs back allowing him easier access as he pounded you hard.

“Try again, who is in charge here?” He growled, reveling in the site of your body bouncing with each thrust. You could only moan in response, you felt his grip tighten slightly as he pulled out. You were about to whine when he roughly slammed back into you, earning a cry of pain and pleasure as he kept up the pace and intensity. You were crying out it at this point lost in pleasure as he used you over and over again. His grip tightened a little, making you focus, if only a little.

“Now, Princess, wanna scream the name of who’s in charge?” He purred lovingly as his hand moved slightly to use two fingers to hold your mouth open, he slowed his pace and repositioned himself a little before roughly starting up again. This time you felt him hit that special spot inside you each time, making you cry out his name like he wanted, you were a mess now. You could feel a knot forming in your womb area, it was building fast, and you couldn’t control your volume anymore. Miguel picked up on this and started thrusting harder. It was about to send you over the edge when he let go of your mouth and pressed against you, biting into your neck again.

“Ohn fuck! I’m gonna cum, please Miguel!” You cried out getting closer to that finish, he moaned feeling how you were tightening around him. “I know, sweetheart.” He grunted, “Go on and cum for me, cum on my cock, you dirty little slut.”

That did it. You felt that knot quickly unravel as you climaxed. Your hips tried to buck, but Miguel had held them in place. You were panting and sweating and feeling so full of bliss. Then you suddenly felt him start up again, it felt even more intense this time. “Such a good little slut cumming on me like that, I should reward you.” He purred going back to his fast rough pace, Christ you felt like you were gonna pass out from how good this felt. He went hard and fast as losing himself; his grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel he was close. Now it was your turn to send him over the edge.

“Mngh please Miguel! I want to be filled to the brim with your hot cum! Please!” You begged, bucking your hips lightly to match his movement. He let out a loud moan as he quickened his pace before roughly pressing deep into you, slightly digging his nails deep into you as he came. It felt so surreal and warm as he panted, slumping over you briefly before pulling out and untying you.

“You okay princess?” He asked, pulling you close for a cuddle and piping soft kisses over your face. “More than okay.” You panted lightly, lifting your face to kiss his. “Although I will need help standing for awhile” you laughed lightly snuggling closer to him and shifting to get comfy. “Aye princess, I’ll help you,” he replied, holding you tight.

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

My first ever fic so hopefully it’s good! I tried my best with dialogue so forgive if it seems a lil awkward haha, this was a lot of fun to write something purely self indulgent before the movie comes out