starring: fwb!miguel o’hara x female reader summary: your friends bet you at girl’s night that you wouldn’t try a royal honey packet. momma didn’t raise a bitch but you may need a little help with the… side effects.
content warnings: 18+ MDNI, choking, breath play, cockwarming, p in v, unprotected sex (use a condom guys), squirting, some degradation, creampie (sorry, I literally can't help it. breeding kink go brrr 😵💫) and not proofread cause I simply cannot be arsed
You should never, under any circumstances, do anything under the influence of alcohol or the influence of your no good best friends.
That’s what you learn on a Friday night in some shoddy bar not far from your apartment in Nueva York.
The music is meh and the atmosphere leaves a little to be desired but the drinks are cheap and that's what you came for. Plus, if you show enough cleavage, the bartenders are heavy-handed with the pours. Your girls are on display in a strapless mini dress that’s so tight it looks painted on and all of your vodka sodas have been extra strong because of it. You can’t complain too much.
You and two girlfriends are sitting in a booth talking about what seems to be the number one thing that comes up when the three of you get drunk: your sex lives.
Jules and Maia start comparing their recent Hinge hookups to see who’s had the worst one night stand. You listen, amused and thankful you have no horror story to add this time.
“He came, rolled off of me, then immediately called his mom after!” Maia taps her finger on the tabletop as she lists the mystery man’s actions. “While I was still lying there!”
“Jules, honey, I think she’s got you beat.” You chime in with a faux frown.
“You know what? Fine by me!” Jules snorts and downs the last sip of her Heineken.
This contest has no real winners.
“Ok enough about our sad love lives,” Maia shakes her head. “What about that sexy scientist you’re dating?”
“Ooh, yes. Let’s talk about hot nerd!” Jules is of course all ears. Hot nerds are exactly her type.
“We’re not dating.” You stress for what feels like the millionth time since this arrangement between you and Miguel began. “We’re just.. hanging out.”
The excuse sounds as lame as it feels to say.
“Oh, do you fuck everyone you hang out with? Because we hangout,” Jules waves a finger between the two of you. “And I don’t fuck you.”
“You know what I mean.” You shove her shoulder. It hardly deters her from grilling you with more questions.
“So you and the scientist—”
“—Geneticist.” You correct. You don’t know why. He’s not here to pat you on the head for it.
“Potato, tomato. You two are seeing each other, exclusively, but you still don’t have a title?” Jules squints at you.
You hate when she puts things the way that they actually are. Though, it never really bothered you before that you couldn’t call him your boyfriend because you were never looking for one.
Casual sex works for you. Casual sex with Miguel works really well.
Now you realize that, in addition to him not being your boyfriend, you can’t even call him a friend either.
You barely know anything about him because he won’t let you in. Hell, you're in a bar telling your friends that you and him “hang out” because you aren’t crass enough to say that he fucks you and sends you home before the sun comes up. You don't even see him in daylight hours.
Jules is waiting for an answer but your heart is lodged in your throat. You just shake your head. No. You don’t have a title. You don’t have any place in his life.
Maia can see that the question has brought your mood down a bit so she tries to give a positive spin. “I mean it’s only been two months…maybe that little nerd just needs a little more convincing.”
There's no way to make Miguel O'Hara do anything he doesn't want to— you know this, but you're still curious.
“Convincing how?”
“Wellllll,” Maia fishes around in her purse until she pulls out what looks like a sauce packet. “I do have this.”
“I don’t really see how ketchup is going to help her, Maia.” Jules deadpans.
“It’s not ketchup! It’s-It’s one of those like, horny.. honey packet thingies. You know, the ones that make you… excited.” She explains with a blush.
The sip of your vodka soda you just took doesn't go down your throat right.
“Excuse me?" You cough. Jules pats your back. She's in just as much shock.
"Why do you have one of these, Maia?”
“Because I’m not a prude and I like to try new things!" She snarks. "Anyway, I think it would be fun for you and for him. Go rock his dorky world and see how he feels about you in the morning!” She tosses the packet at you and you scramble to catch it.
You start down at it in contemplation. You’re certainly no prude either. Especially not after everything you and Miguel have done. Though, it’ll be really embarrassing if it changes nothing and he’s still just as cold to you after.
“Dooo it. Dooo it. Dooo it.” Jules chants. She waves her hand to get Maia to join in and Maia does. They both chant in unison now. “Dooo it. Dooo it. Dooooo it.”
God, they're always so belligerent when they drink.
“I dunno..” You stall.
“We dare you.” Maia says.
“We double—no, triple dog dare you." Jules adds on. "Don't be a scaredy cat!"
You look down at the packet resting on the table again. If nothing changes, well, nothing changes. The worst that can happen is the worst still happening.
“Ok fine, what the hell.” You roll your eyes and rip the corner off the packet. “Sláinte.” You squeeze the whole thing out onto your tongue before you can second guess it.
“WOOOOO!” They both cheer.
You swallow it and chase it with the last of your vodka soda. The aftertaste has a faint tinge of regret, though it’s too late to go back. Your fate has officially been sealed.
“How long until it kicks in?” You almost want to brush the taste off your tongue. You can taste the honey for sure but there's something artificial underneath.
“No clue, girl. I haven’t tried it yet so you’re my little guinea pig.” Maia tweaks your nose. You frown.
“Alcohol might kickstart it sooner.” Jules tips her head at you. “You may wanna head on over to lover boy’s before you wig out in front of everyone at the bar.” She wiggles her fingers in your face with a cackle.
You brush her hand to the side. “Yeah, yeah. I’m booking the Uber.”
The area was crawling with drivers looking to pick up drunk bar patrons in need of a ride home so you had no problem finding one.
You find your chauffeur for the night in Mary. A middle aged lady who you would trust with your life and maybe a pair of knitting needles.
After confirming and paying, you bid your girls a good night and set off in the back of a Toyota Rav4 to Miguel’s apartment.
He has no idea you’re even on your way. If your mind weren’t so foggy from the drinks and the.. stimulant you’d recognize that this is not a good idea. Not even a little bit.
You never stopped to run it by him, though you should’ve because you never do surprise visits. All your meetups in the past have been on his terms. Miguel calls and you come. That’s how it’s always been.
You can’t approach unless he wants you to and doing too much will drive him away completely. He’s like a feral alley cat in that way. He’d certainly warmed up to you a bit. Enough to fuck you senseless at least. That’s why you put up with his standoffish nature.
Miguel is the best you’ve ever had, bar none. Which may also be why you’re not thinking straight.
All you can really think about is his hands all over your body, caressing and groping the way that he does when it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. The hungry way that he kisses you, like he’d devour you whole if he could.
How his wet kisses trail down your body from behind your ear to your throat, your collarbone, your chest, your nipples, the plane of your stomach, your inner thighs and your soaking wet clit.
You can’t wait for him to slide past your lips and fill you up nice and deep until he has nothing left to give and—
Oh. Oh.
It definitely just kicked in. If you couldn’t already tell from the thoughts you were having, the egregious amount of wetness forming between your thighs would be your next clue.
You start to feel increasingly warm all over like someone lit a match inside you. That fire beneath your skin is extra concentrated between your thighs. You hate to admit it but it feels… good. Jules and Maia won’t let you live it down once you give them the full report they’ll be demanding afterward but right now you don’t care.
Your body is a live wire, raw and sensitive to the touch. To every touch. At one point, you nearly choke on your moan after hitting a particularly deep pothole.
Mary apologizes and you sheepishly brush it off, the jolt went straight to your clit and you can barely keep up appearances. It makes you want to cry out when usually you just want to curse your mayor for not getting these things fixed.
Shifting around and crossing your legs doesn’t help. It just makes your nipples press against the fabric of your dress and the rough seatbelt glide across your neck. Two of your most erogenous zones. You have to bite your bottom lip to hold everything in but even that feels good.
God, you’re a mess and no one’s even touched you yet.
Your breaths are shallow and they barely fill your lungs. It makes you lightheaded and dizzy which doesn’t help your situation at all. You didn’t even think about the side effects it could have on you, too caught up in Miguel.
You have to roll the window down a bit to get some air on your face and cool yourself off. Miguel’s place is coming up as you recognize the buildings on this route.
Just keep it together you think to yourself.
You fly out of the car before it can really come to a true, complete stop and mutter a quick thanks to your driver. If she picked up on your behavior, she doesn’t let on and you’re thankful for it.
The walk through the ornate lobby to his building, one of the tallest in the city, is muscle memory at this point. You could walk off the elevator right up to his doorstep blindfolded. By now, even the doorman knows you. You don’t have to tell him who you’re here for and he knows exactly which button to push for you.
You both love and hate that. You take up enough space for Miguel’s doorman to recognize you but that’s just about all the space you take up in his world.
It makes you wonder if you’re the only regular visitor Miguel gets or if there are other women who get off on the twentieth floor and knock on the same door as you.
Before the elevator doors can close all the way, a woman rushes in nearly out of breath. She’s drop dead gorgeous, tall and svelte, like a model. Maybe she is one.
“Glad I caught you guys.” Her laugh is breathless and perfect. Her voice is silky smooth. “Twentieth floor ple—Oh! Nevermind, I see you’ve already got it.” She smiles at Hank, the man working the elevator tonight.
Jealousy distracts you from your aroused state momentarily. She’s new to you. Maybe she just moved into the building or maybe she’s usually out around the time you normally come over. Either way, your shared destination makes you bristle like a cat.
It doesn’t help that she’s suddenly appeared, just after you wondered if anyone else came up to see Miguel besides you, like a bad omen.
Your stomach is in knots when both of you leave the elevator. The scowl forms before you can help it. There’s a real possibility she could be heading to Miguel’s and your visit being a complete surprise doesn’t help your anxiety. It’s not until she tells you goodnight and turns left, instead of toward Miguel’s place, that you let out a breath of relief.
The green eyed monster goes back to her cave.
You hate the comfort you get from seeing her go the other way. It’s superficial at best. There could still be others.
It hardly matters now, you’re still on a mission that culminates at Miguel’s front door. Your knuckles rap against the wood. You hear nothing for a few moments and then there’s the sound of shuffling feet before the door opens to reveal Miguel who can barely fit in the frame.
He’s still in his lab coat, dress slacks and shoes, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He must’ve just come home from work.
Miguel gives you a scrutinizing once over. Your dress feels sluttier now in front of him and you fight the urge to pull it down. You wish you’d checked your makeup and hair in the car ride over because now you’re not sure how put together you look standing before him.
He waits for you to offer an explanation. Forcing your hand without a single word.
“Surprise.” You offer lamely. It’s a surprise alright and judging from the look on his face, not a welcome one. He just blinks but it’s more of what he doesn’t say that has you antsy.
“Did you leave something over here?” Miguel asks gruffly.
“No I just.. I just, um..” You trail off. How can you even begin to explain your situation in a way that isn’t completely embarrassing?
“Just what? I’m a bit busy right now so make it quick.”
God, he sounds so annoyed. You hate it.
Looking up into his eyes seems more daunting than before. You find it hard to meet his gaze and even harder to articulate what it is you came here for. It’s too bad the honey just makes you horny and not bold or courageous.
He grips your chin and tilts your head back so that you have to make eye contact with him. Your pupils are blown wide with lust and you know he can see that. Nothing gets past him.
Miguel tuts and brushes a thumb across your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips part ever so slightly for your tongue to dart out and wet it.
His voice is softer this time, like you might bolt if he gets too loud. “Missed me, did you?”
You nod. Honesty is the best policy after all.
He dips his head so that his lips are at the shell of your ear.
“I don’t like surprises, chula, you know that.” He reprimands like you should know better when you barely know anything about him. As if you actually have a shared rapport beyond the walls of his bedroom.
You almost laugh at the notion that you know him enough to know him habitually. The things he does and doesn’t do.
You can’t find it in you to argue, though, not when you’re this needy.
“I know.” Your chin tilts down as your gaze hits the floor. He lets you hide.
“I wouldn’t normally do this.. it’s just that I was out with my friends and they dared me to take this honey packet thing that makes you horny and now I am.. so now I’m here. Sorry.”
Your eyes meet his after your candid explanation and they have just the faintest hint of amusement shining through crimson.
“Get in here.”
You don’t need to be told twice. Hell, you barely need to be told once.
The door closes behind you and you’re swept away to his office instead of his bedroom. You’re too blissed out to even notice because his hands are finally on you and even if it’s just your wrist it’s enough to reignite that flame inside you.
You land with a squeal when he sits you on the small arm chair in front of his huge mahogany desk. It takes up almost as much room as he does with his large stature.
You’ve never seen the inside of his home office before. Just his bedroom and the path it takes to get there. It grates.
Miguel slides back into his chair behind the desk, eyes flitting across the screens of three different monitors. He gets right back to work on whatever was so important that it had to come home with him.
You’ve never really understood his profession and he’s certainly never bothered to explain it to you. You watch him work, completely in the zone, completely ignoring you. It goes on for longer than you thought it would, figuring he would take care of something real quick and then take care of you.
“Miguel..” You whine, shifting in your seat which you learned in the car ride over does not help. If you were more sober and clearheaded you would cringe at how desperate you sound.
The sound of keys on his keyboard is the only answer you get.
You don’t get him at all. Is he mad at you?
“I thought—” You begin only to be cut off.
“You thought you could barge in here and call the shots? That I would drop everything the second you show up unannounced?”
You’re afraid to say anything that might make him mad. Still it’s better than those elusive one word answers he usually gives.
The wheels on his chair roll across the hardwood floor as he shifts over to get a look at you. His heated eyes glide over you slowly like magma down the side of a volcano.
“It doesn’t work like that. I told you I was busy so you’ll just have to wait until I’m not.”
“I know, I know.” Your eyes roll and you look away from him in favor of staring at the wall. “You call the shots. Everything’s on your terms. Trust me I get it.”
“Well when you show up unannounced I start to think that maybe you don’t get it.” Miguel’s words come out harsher than they were intended to but you don’t care.
“Bad day at work?” You tilt your head and bat your lashes.
“Something like that.” He replies, more subdued than before. He’ll never admit it but you being here has calmed him down substantially.
The two of you never talk enough to argue so Miguel has no clue that you can volley the attitude right back over the net at him. “Cool. Don’t take it out on me.”
You grab your purse and stand to leave. Clearly this was a mistake. You already know the apology will never come so you decide not to stay where you aren’t wanted.
“Sit down.” Miguel orders without even looking up from the monitor.
You scoff.
“I’m leaving.” Your hand barely touches the handle of his office door before he’s up and at your back, reaching to stop you. In the middle of wondering how he got over to you so fast and so quietly, his mouth is at your ear saying something you never thought you’d hear from him. Please.
It’s so soft you thought you imagined it at first but lightning strikes twice in his office because he asks again.
“Please. Stay.” Miguel’s massive palm grips your middle and cages you against him. Against all of him.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. I may not be a geneticist or whatever the hell you do that requires you to wear a lab coat but I am not dumb.”
“You’re the furthest thing from it.” He agrees.
You don’t know how to react to that quasi compliment. You don’t really get much from him aside from how wet you are or how good you feel around him.
Your shoulders fall with the decision to stay. He lets go of you only to let you turn and face him. There’s about as much desire in his as there is in yours only he’s not on anything.
“I still have a little work to do but I can take care of you while you wait.”
A plea. A compliment. A compromise. All in the same night.
“Okay.”
“Relax, hermosa. You can take it.” Miguel coaches as you sink down onto his semi hard length. It’s true, you can take it. You certainly have in the past.
You groan when you’ve taken him completely to the hilt, thighs resting atop his with your back to his chest. Your head falls back into the crook of his neck as you try to get your bearings. It’s common practice between the two of you to forgo the condoms, (Miguel prefers it that way and you’re on birth control anyway), but the honey packet has you wishing just this once that there was a barrier keeping you from feeling so much of him.
He slips in easy enough from how wet you are but he carves a path the whole way, molding every part of your body to him in a way that can’t be undone.
Enough time has passed for you to be acclimated to his size and feel, you know Miguel knows this so why hasn’t he started moving yet?
Your eyes flutter open at the sound of his keyboard clacking again. Seriously?
“Guel..” You whine, desperately trying to ride him. The sudden iron grip on your waist halts your movement. He won’t let you fuck him.
“Sit still, I’m working.” If you hadn’t looked back to catch his expression you would’ve missed the sly smirk his tone did nothing to convey.
This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you pictured Miguel taking care of you.
“But..” You pout. “I need you.”
You’re past the point of caring how you sound and too clouded by lust and alcohol to realize he’s typing absolute gibberish just to seem busy.
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog indeed. And the beautiful woman with the sopping wet pussy will just have to sit here on Miguel’s lap with her too-fucking-mini dress bunched around her perfect hips while he warms his slowly hardening cock in her. He may have conceded earlier but you still needed a punishment for showing up out of the blue like that.
“All soaking wet for me. How’d that happen, hm?” Miguel nips playfully at your neck. Not enough to break your skin but maybe you wish it was.
“The honey packet Maia gave me.” You gasp when two of his fingers come between your legs to rub against your clit with barely any pressure behind them. You could cum just like this you think, if he would just let you move—
His fingers are gone in an instant. The way you clench around him is likely what gave it away that you were nearing the edge.
It’s sweet torture but torture all the same. “I’m gonna kill her.” You mumble under your breath.
“I’m gonna thank her personally.” Miguel huffs out a laugh before licking those same two fingers clean. You’d laugh too if you weren’t so high strung. It’s nice seeing him playful like this.
“Miguel, I can feel you getting hard inside me just fuck me already.” You beg. You even clench and unclench around him a few times to try and push him over the edge. He feels every pulse. He just doesn’t care.
“Cállate. I need to concentrate.” He’s typing real sentences this time not that it matters, all the scientific jargon may as well be Greek to you.
You keep fluttering around him trying to make yourself cum while he works on his report. It barely deters him but it’s starting to work for you, enough that little mewls start spilling from your lips before you can stop them. But being quiet is the least of your worries now not when bliss is so close around the corner. Not when your pussy feels so full of him, completely hard.
Deep in your stomach there’s a warmth beginning to spread, the start of your release like a wave about to crest . Your lips part to release what would’ve been a throaty moan now a surprised cough tumbles out caused by Miguel’s hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing so hard that you can’t breathe.
“Oh, nena, you’re making too much noise now I’ve lost my train of thought.” He tuts. “Guess I’ll just have to start over.”
You want to say something, anything, in protest as he backspaces all his work thus far but his hand still has your throat in a vice grip. You can’t breathe but god can you gush all over him in response. You didn’t even know you liked being choked.
“It’s gonna take me even longer now to finish cause I have to make sure you keep quiet, baby.” Miguel slowly lets go of your neck so you can gulp down some much needed air.
You’re dizzy, all five senses grossly impaired but there’s oxygen rushing to your brain now at least. His hand clamps around your throat once more and he brings you face to face.
“Don’t distract me. I’m typing with one hand now and we don’t want you to pass out before I finish do we?”
You shake your head no and pray he’s secretly a super fast one-handed typist. And the game resumes.
He is typing faster this time and the grip on your throat allows for some air to come through. You suppose you should be thankful but you’re too busy trying not to pass out or explode whichever comes first. The corners of your vision are getting fuzzy and you feel like you’ve stepped outside of your body. Whatever he’s typing must be important.
Something something multiverse theory who cares? Not you.
Your eyelids droop in tandem with the coil in your stomach tightening in pleasure. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip in an effort to keep quiet. You know he would absolutely let you pass out just to teach you a lesson so you try not to rock the boat with too loud moans and whimpers.
It’s only when tears pool in your eyes that relief comes in the form of his gravely voice at your ear saying “Done.”
You’re done too. With a strangled cry you burst from all the pleasure that seemed to build exponentially inside you with every word he typed.
“Just like that pretty girl.” Miguel’s lips are at your throat, your jawline, your collarbone, all over as you gasp. “Yeah you did so good for me you deserve it baby.”
It’s a heady feeling you get from all the air after being so deprived combined with how satisfied you are finally getting your release since the honey entered your system.
But it’s not nearly enough. No. You’re an insatiable beast now. A succubus meticulously crafted for Miguel’s ruin.
“More.” Your voice is hoarse and in your position it’s mistaken for a plea but it’s meant entirely as a command.
But Miguel knows. He’s quick on the uptake and immediately grabs you by your hips and bounces you up and down like you’ve been craving all night.
The only sounds in the room are lewd and loud. Your squelching and moans, his determined grunts, the creak of his computer chair that may need to be replaced after this. You two never need words.
He doesn’t use any to lift you and turn you around in his lap so that you’re finally facing each other as you ride him. He’s wordless when he tugs your dress down far enough for him to suck a nipple into his mouth and grope the other breast in his large hand. And you don’t have to say a word when you place that hand back on your throat to get him to squeeze within an inch of your life.
His eyes meet yours in a silent dare to cum before you faint on top of him.
You taste salty sweat when you lick your lips, smell the musky aroma of your arousal coating the both of you, hear a wet plap, plap, plap, plap keeping time with a set of rough upward thrusts and black is the last thing you see before the dam breaks and sprays all over Miguel’s lap.
When you come to he’s still fucking you through it, chasing his own high. You caught him mid dialogue with no clue of what he’d said before.
“Lightheaded already, mamita?” You can’t form a response and he knows it, the bastard. “That stupid look on your face.. you don’t even care about breathing do you? No you just care about how deep I can get inside you right? Being my little toy?
You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you given your reaction earlier but it makes you so much wetter. Still, You frown. “Don’t talk to me like that.” You slur.
“You don’t like it? Don’t cum around my cock so hard then.”
“Miguel.” You try to warn but it’s feeble.
“You mad at me, baby? Don’t be mad at me beautiful.” He hugs you tight to his front but not for intimacy’s sake, so that your clit has no choice but to grind against his pelvis as you ride him. “I just wanna make this perfect pussy cum over and over and over again.”
“Fuck you.” You bite as your third orgasm of the night creeps up on you. It’s too much to handle but he’s making you handle it and trying to play innocent about it.
“That would be the point, doll.” His chuckle is deep and sexy and it infuriates you to no end that he can even be snarky right now when you’re barely holding it together. “Your face right now mm so fucked out and cock drunk that you can’t even frown at me like you want to.”
“Guel please.. I..” You don’t know whether you’re begging him to let you cum or to not make you cum but you know you can’t take either of those options right now. It’s too much. Everything. And you tell him so.
“I’m just doing what you asked, pretty girl. This is what you wanted right? To get fucked so good like this? That’s why you came to me and not someone else cause I’m the only one that can.”
“Shut up.” You pant, movements getting sloppier and hurried.
“No.” Miguel grins seeing the crazed look in your eye. “I’m not gonna shut up and I’m not gonna stop making you cum either so stop being mad at me and let me make you feel good.”
You decide to stop fighting and that’s when your orgasm crashes into. You clutch his shoulders leaving half moons where your fingernails meet his skin. The rhythm your hips follow is all their own and all you can do is let it happen until the undulations slow. Your head lolls backward cradled by one of Miguel’s hands as his lips meet the base of your throat in a sloppy kiss that turns into a passionate suck with a hickey as a parting gift.
His hot tongue trails up, up, up and stops at your ear. “Good girl.” Miguel purrs and you shiver.
“Still mad?”
“Yes.” You don’t mean it.
“Kiss and make up then.” He holds your chin in place while his tongue explores your mouth. Your head is spinning too much to do anything other than follow his lead. Luckily he’s gentle but no less passionate than before, sucking your tongue, biting your lip, licking the taste of you out of your mouth.
He’s filthy. Miguel only parts to let you breathe and instructs you to bend over his desk. You’re lying on his keyboard but neither of you seem to care. The task of sinking into you much more important to you both.
You can give him one more. You feel like a bottomless pit but at the same time your brain is begging you to tap out, certain you’ve had more than enough.
Miguel is deceptively gentler this time. Maybe he knows you can only take so much more. It’s unnerving. This is how a lover would do it and there is no love to be found between the two of you.
“I needed this.” He admits rocking into you, hitting that spot once again. “Needed you.” He clarifies in a rush. It spills out of him like he’s the drunk one here.
You don’t acknowledge it with anything other than a moan. You know how skittish he is. It’s best to pretend he never said it even if it makes your heart flutter.
Then you remember the whole reason you even took the packet in the first place and think maybe it’s okay if you’re vulnerable too. You can both blame it on the heat of the moment, the drinks or the drugs in your case.
You’ll both have something to regret and maybe that’ll make it okay. And so you speak up.
“Are you mine?” It feels so juvenile insinuating a man like this is a thing to be had. By you no less. But it’s out there and you can’t take it back.
“Who else’s would I be? No one else can put up with me but you.” His pace picks up speed, climax nearing and for the first time tonight he lets it.
“Am I yours?” If it’s even possible you feel more pathetic than before. But you need to know if anything will change tonight.
Miguel falters. Almost imperceptibly. Almost. You don’t know him completely but you’ve known the way he fucks for too long for that to get past you.
To his credit, he recovers quickly. Seconds from falling apart, he leans over you, chest on your back pressing you into his desk and growls in your ear, “You’re the only woman in Nueva York I give a fuck about. That should be enough.”
It isn’t. But you’ll take it.
He wishes he could tell you the truth. But everyone that belongs to him gets taken from him. This is how he keeps you a little longer, he thinks.
Before you know it you cum again, your body had always been so synced with his.
“I’m yours,” He reiterates, the bruising grip on your hips his way of desperately trying to make you understand. To read between the lines and see what he can’t say but wants to so badly.
You moan in defeat, pleasure and pain. Mostly the former. It’ll have to do.
Hot rivulets of his cum paint the walls of your puffy wet cunt and you get the feeling that this is about all the warmth you’ll ever get from him.
Your entire body is spent, you’re so weak that you can’t lift your head from his keyboard. The text in his report trails off from actual scientific findings to just:
tease* ⇝ after accidentally sending bucky a nude, he finds you more desirable than he did before. problem? you two weren’t the bestest of friends
because of you AU ⇝ after being retrieved from HYDRA’s care, you slowly discover why you’re the way you are. you were a warrior and yet, love was your greatest battle. one two three four five six seven eight nine
make you squirm* ⇝ bucky lets you try a fantasy of yours with him
how to love ⇝ bucky can’t help but fall for you, but he fears you won’t feel the same
lil bit floozy ⇝ bucky’s more prone to be responsive to you when you’re a soft, drunken mess
can’t be friends ⇝ bucky’s in love with you. your feelings were mutual. but the agreement placed between the two of you has you blind.
ease your frustrations* ⇝ getting yourself off was getting harder nowadays, you especially needed it with all your stressing. bucky’s more than willing to help you out
reckless ⇝ after months and months of not seeing bucky, you realize your mistake. and when you do see him, you know it’s too late
bad things to you* ⇝ there’s nothing more that bucky lusts over than a good girl who likes to do bad things.
sugarbaby headcanons
incubus!bucky x omega!reader drabble*
soft!bucky
a freak in the making one* two* three* four*
little brat*
fratboy!bucky
feels right AU ⇝ college!au/fratboy!thor. you never expected to go to the school of your dreams. you seem to catch a certain ball player’s eyes and you already know he’s going to be either the worst or best thing that’s happened to you. one two
PLSPLSPLSSSSS WRITE SMTH WHERE MIGUEL LIKE FUCKS THE READER FOR SO LONG BECAUSE ITS SO WARM INSIDE AND HE DOESNT WANT TO PULL OUT SO WHEN HES DONE HE JUST LIKE WALKS AROUND WITH READERS LEGS WRAPPED AROUND HIS WAIST WHILE THEYRE PRACTICALLY SOMEHOW ASLEEP IN HIS ARMS AS HE DOES WHATEVER STILL BURIED DEEP INSIDE THEM
IM LITERALLY GOING FERAL OVER THE IDEA IDK WHY JUST PLSSS
stay — miguel o’hara
miguel loves staying buried inside you. the way miguel wouldn’t let you leave. like his arms would be wrapped around you, keeping you connected at the hips, your legs staying spread around his snatched waist. he would have just been thrusting into you muttering praises into your neck.
and when you both lay panting, you’d expect him to slip out of you. but no. It’s just so warm inside you. so much so that miguel doesn’t want to miss the feeling. so he stays buried deep inside your tight little hole, as you’d shakily speak
“m-miguel…” then he’d be picking you up, your hole still sensitive and overstimulated, as you’d be forced to stay attached to miguel. because he was sure as hell not leaving your sweet, pretty little pussy until he saw fit. “shh…that’s it…just stay hugging my cock like t-that….uh huh…you feel too good to leave, cariño…” he’d be grabbing your chin and kissing you, somehow still balanced in the vertical position — ur legs shaking.
“you’re so pretty f’me…” miguel would mutter once you’d be there to “sleep”. but now you were turned on again, having had him buried inside you for so long you wanted him to move. but when you’d try, miguel would hold your hips, head now resting in your shoulder as he’d mutter “no, no…mi amor…let me just stay inside you…feel so good like this…i like you cockwarming me to sleep…my pretty girl huh?…letting me stay like this…”
what had started off as an intimate love making kiss, turned into a tearjerking fuck.
your wrist is pinned to your back, the other hand gripping the sheets under you as miguel shoves your face into your pillow as he violently pistons his hips into yours. your muffled moans are music to his ears as you come down from your fifth orgasm of the night. you hear his grunt from behind you as your walls spasm around him. he slows down his pace, gently caressing your back. you pant and whimper at the touch. miguel pulls out of you and you shudder at the feeling.
“you okay baby?” he questions as be flips you over. your hair sticks to your face with your sweat and he chuckles before pushing your hair out of your face, peppering your face with kisses. you can’t help but press the balls of your feet into his butt cheeks, pressing him against you.
he raises his eyebrow with amusement before complying to your needs and slipping back in, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. he could watch you all day.
“mmm ‘want you to come again for me,” you plead, locking your ankles around his waist, forcing him to fill you to the brim. miguel hisses, cursing under his breath.
“i don’t think i can, my love,” he admits, chuckling at your eagerness. he’d already finished twice, and while he’d love to make you come more, the thought of his release again intrigued him.
“no?” you pout. “please?” you ignore his protests. “but i want you to.” you grip his jaw and force him to look at you. miguel loved this side of you. his little cockdrunk love. “i wanna be stuff so full of you.”
reluctantly, he slowly moves his hips, his hand resting beside your head as he gazes into your eyes. you can feel every inch of him. when you didn’t feel like he was close enough to you, you’d press your feet against his butt to make him bottom out into you and your tummy flipped in excitement when his jaw would fall, a small gasp leaving his throat.
your words in your filthy voice echoed in his head.
want you to come again.
please?
but i want you to..
miguel’s pace was painfully slow, but it was working. the sultry look in your eyes was helping him. your hand on his face, oh this was so intimate for him. your other hand gripped his bicep, squeezing it anytime he’d hit that sweet spot in you.
“you gonna come? please? i want you to come for me, yeah, fill me up,” you murmured to him like a mantra.
it hit him quicker than he thought, like a tidal wave. his hips stuttered and he moaned your name, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. his eyes were shut tightly and your hands drew shapes against the skin on his back.
“you okay?” you repeated his question. miguel had been panting. he swore he just blacked out.
“yeah,” he huffed, opening his eyes finally. miguel kisses you feverishly. “you’re so spoiled.” he grins at you.
hear me out, miguel letting a bunch of ‘i love yous’ while he’s fucking you? especially while he’s close, him just being like ‘iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou’ does something to me…
ANON I'M SCREAMING THIS IS SO SWEET i felt way too poetic and had to write smth like come on
this man just worships you, every curve of your body, every inch of your skin, and every discovered or unexplored meander of your personality
he'll never tire of your smile, your eyes, the way your body welcomes his hands
the mere thought that you love him makes him less miserable, almost to the point where he feels blessed. What has he done in a previous life to deserve you?
He kisses your forehead to thank it for carrying all your ideas
He kisses your cheeks and lips to thank them for making you smile
He kisses your neck to thank it for making your voice bloom
He kisses your shoulders to thank them for being so gracefully illuminated by the sun
He kisses your hands to thank them for speaking and expressing when your mouth can't
He kisses your chest to thank it for carrying your heart
He kisses your soul to thank it for existing
But he needs more than just thanking you. He would offer you pearls of rain from countries where it never does, he would dig the earth until after his death to cover your body in gold and light. What would he be without you than this hour stopped on the watch face, what would he be without you than this stammering.
"I love you," he whispers against your ear as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, his pelvis touching your thighs as your lips let out the most beautiful sounds that music has ever created.
What would he be without you but a sleeping heart? You took him by the hand in this modern hell where the man no longer knows what it is to be two.
"I love you," he murmurs as he kisses your cheek, inhaling the scent of your skin until he's intoxicated and the sensation never leaves his memory.
Those who speak of happiness often have sad eyes. Isn't that a sob of disappointment?
He felt like a broken string in the guitarist's fingers and yet he now says that happiness exists elsewhere than in dreams, elsewhere than in the clouds, elsewhere than imagination.
"I love you," he breathes as he kisses your lips and you give him the gift of pleasure, as you make him feel the perfect pairing of sentiment and carnal desire.
He's waiting for the universe to shrink down to your hearts, to be safe from the wicked and the mad, waiting for your moments to drag on for hours and for the thread of time to wrap itself around you.
Prepare some of your time, because for you he has all of his.
hey, idrk wether ur doing requests at the minute, but if you are, i need some sugar daddy!miguel because im dying over here with not a single drop to suffice 😞 i need him to spoil me ☺️
i am absolutely open to requests🥰
Sugar Daddy!Miguel head canons
NSFW. MDNI!
miguel definitely has a worship & praise kink. he loves seeing you dripped out in extravagant attire that he bought for you, adorned with diamonds around your neck. he makes it known that he loves what you’re wearing, complimenting you every chance he gets. he wears you on his arm so proudly as if he has the most stunning date (and he does) and he can’t wait to rip everything off of you
↳ “oh come on cariño,” miguel mumbles from in between your thighs as your fingers thread through his hair. “you look so pretty when you cum for me, you don’t wanna give daddy another?”
there’s very few times he tells you no & when he does, it ends up with you pouting, “but daddy! don’t you think we’d look so cute with matching?” you’d been referring to matching cartier rings. miguel was never a jewelry type - maybe a gold chain around his neck for the holidays, but he left the jewelry to you. it complimented your skin so well, especially with the body scrub you’d used, leaving shimmers of glitter?
he’s surprisingly better at keeping himself restrained when he’s feeling needy, especially in public. it’s usually you feeling him up at after parties and begging him for any sort of attention. he’d keep you at his side, hand at your waist before murmuring in your ear, “behave mi vida and i promise you, you’ll have everything you want and more.” and you knew he was good for his promises
he talks you through your orgasms. “i know baby, i know” & “it’s okay, i’ve got you. daddy’s here” & “you’re so good for me, i’m so proud of you” while you’re trembling around him
cockwarming becomes more frequent because you get needy while he’s working. how could you not be needy when this gorgeous hunk of a man is in front of you? messy, tousled hair, glasses, the first two buttons on his white button up undone, exposing his chest with his tie loosely strung around his shoulder.
↳ “if you distract me away from filling this report out, daddy’s taking it out of your allowance,” he hisses as you slowly slide down onto his cock. you whimper as he fills you to the brim, causing him to curse under his breath. he does play with you a little bit, dragging his hands up and down your body, noting how you bounce in his lap needily.
when you talk back to him or speaking to him without manners, he grabs your tongue with his fingers. “try saying that again. oh? you’re done with your tantrum? you wanna try asking daddy nicely this time?”
he loooves shopping with you. when it comes to fashion, he’s very plain when it comes to himself…but when it comes to you? he loves coming with you to reset your wardrobe for the season and listening to you talk about how you saw this on the runway to a fashion event he had taken you to.
you never noticed it but he does up your allowance by a grand for every lingerie photo you send to him. he was quite surprised when you asked him to pick a number between 1-10. he was lucky to have a “go big or go home” mindset because he received 10 very revealing photos right before a meeting.
you always try color-coordinate with him when it comes to going to events with him, but his wardrobe’s full of neutrals. you did save your allowance on getting him a pastel wardrobe of valentino suits tailored to him so he could match you more often. he was very surprised by this gesture since he’s usually the one that likes to show you off, but this small gesture made him realize how proud you were to have him on your arm as well. needless to say, he did pay you back. and ever since then, you two are usually the “it” couple when it comes to social outings.
him fucking you over his desk after he’s finished a big project? you’re bent over his desk as he’s pounding you from behind, fingers in your mouth. him letting you pick out a designer bag afterwards since he was a bit rough and selfish.
he has a thing for your feet in heels paired with anklets. yeah, he dropped a couple hundred for your manicure and pedicure, so of course your toes look great. but something about your legs thrown over his shoulder as he rails you, heels and anklet digging into his skin made him feral.
aftercare consists of a romantic lit bath in the bathtub that has jets. he purchased these bath bombs from dubai that has 24 karat gold in them that he always makes sure he has on deck for his royal highness
Im very intrigued by the readers powers in Heat. What your thought process behind that?
i won’t lie i kinda just pulled it out of my ass. but after some thought, i was thinking about reader releasing pheromones (rather than venom) and being able to control hallucinations that people go through. not sure how much sense that makes, but i dig it and i wanna expand more about it in writing.
i wanna say, the pheromones only affect people that are attracted to reader.
warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.
prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.
note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u
He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.
As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?
“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.
“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.
“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”
The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.
“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.
Your name
The date
The serums you were making updates to
The quantity
You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.
“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”
“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.
He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.
Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.
He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.
“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.
“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.
A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.
Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.
You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.
Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.
He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?
He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.
“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.
“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.
His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.
“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.
You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.
Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.
“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.
“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.
The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.
“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.
At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.
“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.
“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.
His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.
Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.
“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”
How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?
“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.
“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.
You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.
“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.
He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.
Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.
“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”
