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DID SOMEONE SAY HARRISON KNOTT AND BREEDING KINK?????

This man has your knees pressed to your chest as he fucks you so deep.

"Harri, s'big," you can barely speak, having lost count of how many times he's made you come.

"I know, such a big stretch for a little thing like you. But you take me so well. Gonna be such a pretty mama, carrying our baby."

His dirty talk would be top tier and he'd fuck me all night long I just know it!

fuck he’s so nasty. he’s got a raging size kink and his breeding kink is just as bad. loves to watch his cock disappear into your pussy and he always marvels about how well you take him. and you know what it does to him when you tell him he’s too big. “i know, baby,” he’ll say. “but this sweet little pussy was made to take all of it.” 😭 and then when he’s fucking you after you decide to start trying for a baby? he’s insatiable. pumps you so full of cum and even slips a plug inside you to keep any from going to waste. he puts a pillow under your hips as well and tells you to stay like that “so it’ll take.” maybe he’s overdoing it but he doesn’t care. he’s just so eager to make you a mama, to watch your body change as it grows his baby.

JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER: BUCKY BARNES MASTURBATES AND MOANS AND BITES HIS LIPS AND ROLLS HIS HIPS AROUND BYE

Pass it on, y'all.

So glad we brought it back to The Horny. You’re getting so worked up and only over his fingers, I mean Peter really has you desperate for anything he’ll give you. And you’re grasping onto his arm, trying to ground yourself but a thought comes to mind. Two can play at this game. You place a hand on his thigh, sliding it up just to barely graze his crotch. You hear a small gasp from him and it eggs you on. You’re palming him through his sweats, feeling him grow and twitch under your touch. He’s groaning your name and picking up speed with how he fingers you. But neither of you have acknowledged each other, the both of you have your eyes glued to the screen. You guide your hand under his pants and wrap your hand around him. It’s turned into a competition now, who can get the other to come first. He knows he's close, but so are you. You're faltering, and he knows exactly what to do to make you come undone. With his thumb rubbing circles on your clit and his fingers curling up to hit that sweet spot that has you clenching tighter around him. You're coming while chanting his name and the action is enough to send him over the edge too.

fwb tasm!peter x reader and peter just wants to fuck but you won’t until you clean up his wounds and he’s trying so hard to ignore how his heart skips a beat. all he brings is pain to the people he loves, which is why he only tries to bring pleasure to you instead because he can’t bare to think what could happen if he came to accept his love for you. 🥲🥲🥲

@buckys-estrella …help

thinking of writing nsfw alphabet for a few of the characters, so we’ll see how that goes-

I should be working on my brat taming request, but I was thinking about miguel being needy to eat you out and I wrote smth that will be up very soon :)

where she goes ᅳ miguel o’hara

“mami, te vo’a a dar hasta que te duela la popola como a glou.”

｡･* +18. dom!miguel. messy throat fucking. cumshot. use of toys. spit k.

“buena niña, look at you drool all over my cock.” miguel´s groan was rough and deep, watching the spit drip from your mouth as you held him as far as you could take him down your throat; spit running over your chin and dripping down to his balls.

it was one of miguel´s favorite things to do: thrust deep into your throat, over and over again to make you gag around him, taking himself out to let you breath but having a firm grip in your hair, it was a proper scene to be filmed, for miguel to remember your face full of tears as you took him whole into your mouth.

“you look so pretty when you’re a mess for me. quién habría dicho que mi pequeño ángel era una zorra...” miguel groaned as he pulled himself off your drooly mouth, taking his thumb and opening your mouth, he leaned down, spitting on your open mouth before sliding his cock back in to mix it together, your spit and his now all over his hard cock. (who would´ve said my little angel was such a slut,)

you looked so pretty with your face flushed and eyes watery, chin slick with spit and the hungry glint in your eyes, miguel was aware that you loved this as much as he did.

“se siente bien, no es así?” he said, inside of your cunt, the tiny bullet toy sat snug, low vibrations that were controlled by miguel making you soak through your thin panties, feeling your desperate hum around his cock only added to his pleasure, head tilted back while his fingers ran through your hair. (it feels good, doesn´t it?)

knowing his baby was getting pleasured and genuinely got off on making him feel good? it was a good cycle to have, you both worked to make sure each other got what you needed.

“what do you think? quieres más? i want you to come while you suck me dry.” he murmured, holding your cheek in one hand and the remote to the toy in the other, your lips were wrapped around his tip as you gave him the most pathetic little whimper paired with a nod. (you want more?)

your moan at the rush of new vibrations were enough to make his cock fall out of your mouth, but it was quickly resolved when miguel grabbed your hair with one hand and threw the remote back on the side, keeping a tight grip on your head while he fed you his cock, your nose grazing the small hairs on his base while he made you take him whole.

“i didn´t say to pull off, mami.” he warned. "you gotta do better, baby.” with a new eagerness, he helped you bob your head up and down, watching you closely, seeing that you enjoyed it, your little noises of satisfaction made it even better.

miguel knew your reactions and your body better than you, and when he felt you get squirmy and your nails digging into his muscular legs, he knew you were about to cum. "i knew you were dirty, baby, but getting off with this? eres mi pequeña zorra.” he smirked, pulling you off his cock for a moment. (my little whore.)

“mhm, miggy, i can’t....” your eyes crossed slightly when he pressed the button on his remote to speed up the vibrations. “ungh- miguel.” your mouth fell open as you moaned his name.

“no puedes qué, niña linda? no puedo entender que necesitas, princesita.” he cooed, looking at his lover. you looked always so beautiful, but seeing you a complete mess, on your knees all because of him made a rush of blood go straight to his cock, getting him closer to his realease. (you can´t what, pretty girl? i can´t understand what you need, little princess.)

“please, please, i-i want to cum.” your voice got higher pitched, breathless as the vibrations rocked you, pulsing inside of your soaked cunt, it lacked the stretch his cock gave on your gummy walls, but you was happy with it in your mouth.

“oh my.... god, miggy, please....” the desperation in your voice was obvious and to him, it was delicious, miguel´s always been a weak man for begging.

“hazme venir como la buena niña que eres, and then you can.” (make me cum like the good girl you are.)

as soon as your mouth was back on him, your start sucking and licking, drooling all over his cock, and his vocals come out to play, moaning your name and groaning deeply.

“mi ángel bonito, you make me feel so good.... joder, right there. suck right there.” he hissed through the lewd actions, the slick sound of your sucking, the vibrations and your whimpers filled the room. “listen to how dirty you get me. soaking my cock with your spit, como lo haría una verdadera zorra. mierda.” (my cute angel/like a true whore would.)

knowing his weak spots, it isn’t hard to make him cum; right at the tip, rubbing your tongue up against that spot while your hands work on his length, stroking up and down while his curses continue, sometimes slipping your hand to his tightened balls.

“mierda, justo así. you dirty slut, just got to get that cock in your mouth and you show what a dirty little girl you are.” his hisses are heard through the messy strokes of your hands.

it was when you began to whimper around him that he felt the orgasm bubble over.

“oh yes. mhm, that’s it. keep moaning for my cock, voy a correrme en tu boquita.” and with one more press of the vibrator remote, the both of you became a mess, his cum in your mouth, your thighs shaking as you came around the toy and held onto him for stability. (i´m gonna cum in your little mouth.)

pulling off to moan at your orgasm, his cum started dripping from your mouth as you moaned his name.

“ah, my messy angel.” he chuckled, rubbing his cock through the mess of your lips and chin while stroking himself to get every last drop on your face.

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

wc: 6k

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

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

ahh thank you!!♥️

Te Lo Ruego

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

nsfw masterlist | main masterlist

word count: 0.8k

summary: miguel is desperate for just a taste

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, miguel being a munch and pussy drunk, that’s it, it’s just him being desperate to eat you out <3 also, spanish (translation at the end)

A/N: I read two words and was inspired to write this…took me about an hour and now this is all i’m thinking about, please enjoy // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333

Keep reading

okay but like how do you think Adrian would react to his partner squirting? I feel like he’d be obsessed with it😩

the word OBSESSED is ABSOLUTELY CORRECT

once he's with his partner he's like. okay i know everybody doesn't do this. so i can't be disappointed if it doesn't happen. it's not my fault. i can't just MAKE it happen. like he TELLS HIMSELF that but that doesn't mean it's NOT a GOAL

and then the first time you do it he like. just loses his WHOLE entire mind. like he loses his MIND. he wasn't keeping careful enough track of what, exactly, he was doing to cause it in the first place, and he tries to figure it out, but he was, like, just kind of being IMPULSIVE, you know, so then

then at that point it becomes a THING for him. like an ENTIRE OBJECTIVE. he tries a whole host of different things and studies porn like he's taking a class and attempts to figure out how to make you squirt literally as often as he can. my heart says he keeps a tiny journal or a locked note on his phone to keep notes about everything he tries and how it was received

long story short i fully believe adrian chase sees sex as both an enjoyable activity and a personal success and he would make it a LIFE GOAL for his partner to squirt as OFTEN as possible like he LOVES IT. one track mind sometimes. every track mind the rest of the time. no in between for him

this man has permission to do whatever he wants to me, like pls sir, I beg🙇🏻‍♀️

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this man has completely overtaken my life and heart. i love him more than anything, here is some filthy thoughts

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shang chi (shaun) x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, oral (m & f), fingering, unprotected sex, mommy kink, use of sex toys (ties, vibrators, plugs), sub!shaun, dom!reader, overstimulation, breeding kink, mentions of nudes and videos, exhibitionism, light choking, soft!dom shaun, potential dub-con, if i missed one please let me know!

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex)

shaun wants to be close to you- holding your body close to his, feeling your heartbeat. if you aren't particularly fond of being held afterward, he'll trace patterns on your forearm as your body relaxes and your breathing slows down.

still bare, your legs tangled together and your head nuzzled into his chest. he'll whisper small praises and crack a few jokes to lessen the intensity. even though he praises your body while having sex, he takes a little extra time to help cool your body down.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part on themselves and on their partner)

there is nothing he loves more than your hands. how delicate they are and how quickly they can shift into a means of pleasure. your fingers dragging down his torso or gripping his as he pins them above your head- he loves how perfectly they fit inside his.

he loves how skilled they are and how easily he melts at the slightest graze or touch.

shaun's mouth does wonders. from the words that flow past his lips to the way his lips close around your clit- or nip are your neck. he doesn't even have to speak before helpless moans and desperate pants escape yours. there is nothing it can't do and very little that it won't try.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

the place he cums more than anywhere else is inside you, he is mesmerized by the sight of the cum dripping out from your cunt. every so often, he'll cum in your mouth- allowing you to taste you- before he pulls you up by the throat, kissing your lips.

"feel that? feel my cum fillin' that pretty little pussy up?" he'd grunt against your ear, keeping his pace.

D = Dirty Secret (What do they secretly want)

shaun wants you to take the reigns. there is nothing better than when you're under his body completely at his mercy- but there are times when he wants to see you pin him down, take control and leave him a whimpering mess.

"oh you like that don't you, baby?" taunting him as he lays before you, wrists bond the ends of the bed. a whimper escapes his lips as you pull down the fabric of his underwear. his cock twitching and his hips bucking upward, needy and pathetic. "so impatient, baby boy... you know mommy doesn't like that,"

E = Experience (Do they know what they are doing?)

there is an average amount of experience. being in your mid-twenties when the blip happened, refocused his attention. once everyone came back, weekend hookups became a regular thing.

even with minimal experience, shaun knows what he is doing. there was definitely trial and error that took place in college, but he is pretty well-rounded.

F = Favorite Position (Self-explanatory)

up against a wall while your legs wrap around his waist. moments where you find yourself in this position, usually resulted from the desperate and needy desire to take you to whatever karaoke bar or hole in the wall bar.

"shaun, i swear if someone sees-" clutching around his neck, moaning against his ear. "nobody will see us, i promise," his cock slid inside you with ease, arousal coating him. "fuck, baby," his raspy grunt filled your ears.

G = Goofy (Are they serious during sex or goofy

shaun believes sex should be fun and exciting, but also intense and intimate. the balance is something he's mastered. being able to keep things fresh, new, and lighthearted, but also close, intimate and tender- is not something that is easy, but he believes that you shouldn't have to choose.

he embraces the imperfect moments, like a mishandle or readjust the resulted in a head bump or the plans with food play not going right.

H = Hair (Are they well-groomed?)

shaun is well-groomed and kept.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

he rises above and beyond expectations. the average session is all about making sure you're taken care of first and that you're comfortable. one way he makes sure to achieve this, is thorough foreplay and communication.

shaun prioritizes communication. if there is something that either of you isn't feeling, then it needs to be said- or if there is something that either of you really likes, it also needs to be said. it has helped your sex life immensely.

big moments in your relationship would call for the grand gestures. those are the moments for the hotel suites, food play, experimenting with new ideas, etc.

J = Jack Off (Do they masturbate?)

yes. if you're away and he needs a release, he'll masturbate to videos of pictures you have sent him or have taken together. if you're at work, he'll usually wait it out as long as he can.

when you're way visiting family or on a girls weekend, you'll send him some throughout the time away. they'll be random times and sometimes not at the most convenient time. the worst time being while he's at work, having to greet guests and stand in full view for everyone.

that's when he'd excuse himself to the bathroom.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

the favored one being praise- giving or receiving. he loves to mumble under his breath as he kisses down your body or let a "good girl" slip through daily life. this catches you off guard, causing your to press your legs together or a flushed face.

other than the more normal kinks such as breeding, being dominant- he loves to see how far he can push you. overstimulation would be his favorite. "i know you can do it, just one more!" he coos, toying with your clit and his tongue slipping in and out of you. "almost there, baby, i can feel it,"

one that most wouldn't think about is holding. shaun would see it while scrolling and be hesitant to try- but once he saw how much you whimper and squirm as he presses on your stomach. "shaun..." the whine was like music to his ears. "you're doing so well for me,"

L = Location (Favorite place to do it)

nothing beats the comfortability of your own home, but the car rides home are one's that he loves just as much. how impatient you get or how he just can't help but rub the inside of your thigh. he'll pull over into an empty parking lot, slipping in the backseat.

you're straddling his lap, grinding against him- making out shamelessly. he nips at your neck and drags his lips down to your breasts. as the windows fog and the breathing gets heavier, shaun loses all self-control and strips you bare.

M = Motivation (What turns them on or gets them going?)

touching. anywhere or any time. if you want to get him going, it's the light finger tracing on his arm or playing with his fingers.

while cuddling and the adjustments. "baby, please," he chokes as your ass wiggles against his crotch, trying to find a more comfortable position. for a moment you'll stop, but you slide up and down fixing your shirt that got cut on the sheets. "are you trying to turn me on?"

N = No (Something they will not do. Turnoffs.)

shaun is willing to try anything once but has the basic hard limits.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc.)

shaun understands how important foreplay is- and he loves it. his favorite being oral. at first there was a lot of trial and error on finding the exact spots that made your eyes roll and hips squirm- but when he found them? it was game over for you.

shaun could stay down there for hours- he's addicted to the taste of you. holding your hips down as he continues through your high. "stay. still. i'm not done yet, i can't get enough of this pretty pussy,"

he knew your body like no other. his tongue is skilled in toying with your clit, flicking against the sensitive nerve. the motions warming your cunt, arousal coating his chin and lips. "look at the mess you made, baby,"

on the receiving end, shaun couldn't help but spew praises. as well as he knew your body, you knew his. "just like that" "you're doing so good for me!" "there you go, right there- fuck!" shaun holds your hair back in a make-shift ponytail, guiding your mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast or rough? Or slow and sensual?)

he has mastered both. shaun understands when to be more dominant and rough- and when not to be. as much as he loves the rough stuff, shaun loves being able to connect with you and be close to you- so slow and sensual is the specialty.

the hand holding, eye contact, and kissing during sex type sensual- the bodies syncing and cumming together type sensual.

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than regular sex)

they are a must. happening everywhere and anytime. bar bathrooms, karaoke rooms, cars- shaun doesn't let the location stop him from taking you right then and there. of course, they aren't your main source of pleasure, but they happen more often than not. with every few

"shaun, we can't do it here!" shouting quietly as he pulls you through the crowd of people. "we'll be fine, nobody will see us, i promise!" shaun opens the karaoke booth door, closing it behind him- lips attaching to your neck. "i'll be quick," he mumbles against your skin.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

the thrill of being caught? turns him on even more. he loves the idea that he's deep inside you and someone catching you? sends him over the edge. even just a quick make-out session in the hallway of the bar drives him wild.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

he has average stamina, they'll last a couple rounds- but he cums each round.

T = Toys (Do they own or use toys on themselves or partners?)

there is very little that he isn't willing to do to make you cum. if he wants to add a bit more, he'll add that vibrator or plug. he isn't afraid to use toys on you, especially if it means he'll hear the sweet sound of your whimpers.

he loves the videos of your playing with your toys- the sight of your fingers playing with your cunt and the vibartor against your clit- he's home within minutes.

"you can do it, baby, i believe in you," he taunts, placing the vibrator on your clit. your nails into his arm, "shaun i can't-" he coos, "yes you can, just one more for me."

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

he prides himself on how worked up he can manage to get you. out in public, the small innuendos, the text messages, rubbing the inside of your thigh? all just to see the flustered expression and rising chest.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

shaun is shamelessly vocal. he doesn't hide or holds back any sounds. he is a dirty talker, he loves to communicate during sex- making sure everyone is comfortable and everyone is safe.

W = Wildcard (Random headcanon for your character)

the soft!dom is strong with shaun. he is patient and affectionate with you, treating you with the utmost care and making sure that you are the priority- giving you everything that you ever wanted.

but the moment you cop an attitude, talkback? all bets are off. the sweet calm man in front of you quickly turns into the stern dom, not afraid to put you in your place.

"you want to try that again?" you stand your ground, "nope." this sends him over, he grips your throat- pushing you against the wall. "are you sure about that?"

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

slightly above average, nothing too insane- just right.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

once he met you, he wants you twenty-four seven.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)

shaun is passed out within the hour if you're at home. if you're not home, adrenaline pumps through him and makes him more energized.