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Dos Locos 🕷️

ཐིཋྀ W/C: 1.8K

ཐིཋྀ PAIRING: ex!miguel x latina!reader

ཐིཋྀ TAGS: 18+ smut. toxic af, broken up, pettiness, cheating x2 (never do this), still so toxic, unprotected sex, being insufferable x2, awful humans, creampie

notes: i wrote the beginning on the last day of may i’m so dead😭 kinda back to writing for mig again 😀 july was for qimir oops. also was thinking of insomniac peter not peter b but it doesn’t matter sjsjsjjs

Broken up. Separated. End of. Not together.

You and Miguel both decided to break up because the relationship had gotten so toxic over the past year and you were both growing tired of it. So you ended it mutually but deep down you weren’t over him and he wasn’t over you either. after all it was a three year relationship.

Unfortunately you were both stubborn and were not going to make the first move to get back together or have one final fling. Especially since you found out he was on some petty shit after a month of being broken up and already seeing someone new.

in another world where his brother Gabriel wasn’t taken, he would’ve been the first choice. but you weren’t a homewrecker. famous last words.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of and hit up one of his work friends because you needed to out-petty him.

You ended liking him the tiniest bit and it may not have been so healthy to do it so soon after the breakup but you couldn’t help it.

Peter was just so sweet and funny, and didn’t nag at you over the littlest of things.

It was a surprise when you started officially going out with him two weeks after that. You saw him nearly everyday and he always spoiled you. Maybe a bit of love bombing but it was just so nice. it was a huge difference from the end of your relationship with Miguel.

You didn’t even care when you found out Miguel was also going out with that girl you saw him with two months ago.

After all, you were broken up, right?

imagine knowing damn well you’re both seeing other people, hell just full on taken but after an accidental sighting of each other at a bar you ended up in a hotel room together.

both of you folding like a book as if you weren’t in supposed happy relationships. neither of you could deny your feelings for each other and the chemistry was still there as if it never left.

so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he was on top of you, pounding into you as if the breakup never happened.

but his dirty words would quickly remind you.

“eres tan terca-“ he groans as you roll your eyes. (you’re so stubborn)

you had been denying that you missed him since you entered the room. he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t going to be the first to openly and verbally admit it.

“lo dices como si tu no eres!” you scoff making him grunt. (you say it as if you aren’t!)

“you’re a pain in my ass.” he mutters making you chuckle.

“yet here you are fucking me.” you spat quickly earning yourself an eye roll.

he was already so tired of your shit. it’s like he’s getting reminded of the reasons you broke up in the first place. it was bad enough you were as or even more stubborn than him but for it to not even stop while he was fucking you?

even after three months had passed?

and the fact that he liked it? he knew there was something wrong with him.

so he did what logically made sense in his head and started giving you deeper thrusts while keeping his same brutally fast pace.

you yelped and squirmed around but he held your legs in place. you bit your lip and gave him a glare.

how was it possible for him to be this annoying and still not put you off?

the grip he still has on you made you sick.

“aw estás enojada?” he teases making you let out a groan. (aww are you mad?)

he was just so aggravating. but lord was the bickering so badly missed.

so you decided to change the topic on the argument. just to have a slight upper hand.

“so are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” you say breathlessly.

“what the fact that you practically jumped into my arms first chance you got?” he murmurs with a smirk.

you shake your head and roll your eyes, “that is not what happened-“ you start but cut yourself off, “how about the fact that you moved on after a fucking month?”

“what jealous?” he taunts and you groan again.

“you fucking wish.” you say and give him a grin.

“if anything you wished i was jealous.” he says stifling a laugh back.

“oh please.” you scoff and he shrugs before coming down so his face was closer to yours.

your hands were on his biceps, because if there was one thing you missed was having them to grip on to. Peter was rather… scrawny.

and as if reading your mind, he continued. “did you think you’d really make me jealous with Puny Parker?” he laughs, making you groan.

“i wasn’t trying to make anyone jealous.” you quickly defended yourself but he didn’t believe a word.

“yeah okay.” he mumbles and holds back a smile.

he did miss this, so of fucking course he was jealous. he was so fucking pissed when Peter started talking about chasing after a girl he was crushing on only to find out it was you.

he wanted to kill him.

but then he realized he shouldn’t be jealous. you weren’t his anymore and he had Dana. he should be more than happy and not jealous out of his mind but yet you always haunted his thoughts, dreams, hell he nearly moaned out your name when Dana was sucking him off.

he fucking knew Peter was giving you eyes but you always claimed he was just being nice.

nice would be letting you go without any marks on your body. even that was pushing it.

he quickly decided against it and leaned down, letting go of one of your legs to squeeze your left breast before sucking on your nipple. he moaned and pulled slightly back before he flicked his tongue over it,

he then went higher and kissed the top of your breast, everything happening so fast your mind didn’t even process when he started to suck onto your skin.

you gasped and smacked his arm before trying to push him away but he wasn’t budging. now you were getting worried.

sure you knew you’d have to face the music at some point but now with a fucking bright ass mark on your breast you’d have a harder time dragging it out.

“estás loco!!!” you hissed and he finally pulled away, with the biggest shit-eating grin. (you’re crazy!!!)

he decided to finally fall into being honest.

“por ti lo soy. quisite escuchar eso verdad?” he murmured and you feel your face flush. (for you i am. you wanted to hear that right?)

he moaned as you clenched against him, a big indicator that he was right. your body always gave you away and you wouldn’t even be able to lie about it.

“you’ve been dying to hear me admit how badly i missed you, haven’t you?. how i missed your hugs, missed your cooking, your kisses?” he admits and you bit your lip trying to fight the urge to give in.

his hand went up to your cheek, forcibly making you lock eyes with him. as if things couldn’t get worse he just kept going, “wanted to hear how fucking badly i missed your mouth? how fucking much i’ve been needing your pussy?”

his tone hit you and you couldn’t stop the moan from leaving your lips. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he slowed down, focusing on hitting it deeper inside you.

“ahora dime, soy el único loco?” he asks and you look back at him, beyond happy. (now tell me, am i the only crazy one?)

because you knew it and were glad it was mutual, and because you didn’t give in first.

he looked at you expectantly, he knew the truth the whole time but he knew with his admission that yours would follow.

you quickly wrapped you arms around his neck, bringing him closer before whispering, “somos un par de locos.” (we’re a pair of crazy people)

he leaned in and kissed you. you kissed him back immediately and it instantly turned into a heated kiss with his tongue clashing with yours. his hands were all over you and yours moved to scratch at his back because him fucking you again was what you’ve been craving.

he went back to pounding into you like there was no tomorrow and knew he wasn’t going to stop until he came inside you. he was already feeling so close and with the way you squeezed him to perfection like you always did, it wasn’t the tiniest bit surprising.

he pulled away so you could both catch your breath but mostly because he wanted to see your face. he loved looking at you when you came. even more so when you came at the same time.

he leaned his forehead to yours, his eyes all glossy, and his thrusts becoming slopping. you clenched against him and felt your orgasm build up quickly. “missed you so much baby.” you whimpered and he nodded, pieces of his hair falling down.

“you have no idea how much i missed you mami.” he murmured making you moan and hold onto his face as your legs began shaking.

“moaned your name instead of his.” you admitted making him smile.

“nearly did the same.” he chuckled making you laugh.

you were truly so alike. in more ways than you could ever count.

“you’re gonna call him after this and tell him to fuck off.” he muttered and you could only whimper.

“you’re all fucking mine i don’t care.” he purred and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his.

“toda mía, verdad hermosa?” he murmured and you quickly moan out a yes which was enough to push you both off the edge. (all mine, right beautiful?)

he groaned as he spilled his load inside you, making sure it was as deep as possible before doing slow thrusts to ride out your highs. your legs shook and your cries only drove him more insane.

he kissed your forehead as you brought your legs down and he slowly started to slip out of you. as much as he wants you to keep all his cum, he knew you were about to knock out.

his dick slipped out with a loud plop and his cum oozed out and dripped down to your asshole. he quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, getting a towel before running back to you to clean you up.

you closed your eyes as he made sure every drop came out and he softly cleaned you up before throwing the towel away and getting back into bed.

you quickly got comfortable on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and lifting the blanket over your bodies, so happy to have you back.

Thank y'all for the 500 notes on this 🥹

I guess some of all of you aren't just smut enthusiasts. (dw I still love all of you tho ❤️)

Imagine dbf Miguel…

art credit to a lovely moot here @gltzpzy your art gives me life 🙂‍↕️

Wearing one of his undershirts, you stand idly at his door. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling childish at the idea of you being at his bedroom door at four in the morning. With a fist, you raise it to knock on the door but fail. You didn't want to interrupt his seven hours of sleep.

“This is stupid…” You think as you slowly back away from the door.

The floorboard under your feet creaked, creating a loud groan from your heavy weight against the sensitive wood. You scrunch your brows and close your eyes shut.

“¿Princesa?” His voice sends vibrations down your spine. “Yeah?” You croak out, your tone cracking.

“Are you having trouble sleeping, princesa?”

“…no?”

The silence was enough to tell you that he raised a brow from skepticism, and you could feel it through that wooden door.

“Okay, maybe I am. I keep hearing the neighbors singing drunkardly. And I wondered if I could sleep in your room tonight.” Silence sags the cold air, but the sound of the bed creaking from the other side of the door is enough to sink a sense of guilt into you.

The door swings open, and the smell of his cologne lingers in the air before the sensation of his hand ruffling the crown of your head. “C’mon in,” he sighs before gently tugging you into the room.

The sight of his messy bed, mostly bedsheets, indicated that he was enjoying a good night's sleep before you interrupted.

“Get into bed. I warmed it up for you…” he grumbles, a half-ass attempt at a joke. He combed his bed hair back before he took the left side of the bed, allowing you to take the right side.

The moment your body landed on his mattress, the softness and warmth enveloped you like a crispy burnt marshmallow on an autumn evening. “Ven para acá, princesa.” He waves his hand over after he settles down on the bed.

“¿Just get some sleep, m’kay?” He sighs, pulling you closer to his chest while rubbing a gentle hand on your arm. “¿Duérmete, okay?”

You nod before you snuggle closer to him. “Es hora de dormir, ignora los vecinos.” He sighs, his lips resting against your temple. “Duérmete…” He mumbles.

Bonus:

The shock of waking up to 300 pounds against your chest is enough to scare anyone, especially if this 300 pounds embracing you close with no escape, especially with a loud snore filling your ears at eight in the goddamn morning.

“Dammit, Miguel.”

What if I start listening to Frank Ocean?

He's coming soon dw! I'm posting an old draft tonight! Dbf miguel is coming later on this week 🙂‍↕️

Should I post a dbf! Miguel after my “mini-break?” He’s been plaguing my mind recently…

Okay, WHY IS IT AT 1000 H U H?!

hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable

GROWING PAINS

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.

✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.

✭ word count: +2.1k words

✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.

“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.

A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.

“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.

“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.

“Thanks…”

/

“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.

“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.

“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.

“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.

He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”

The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.

“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.

/

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.

“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.

You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.

The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.

“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.

“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.

“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.

“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.

“Miguel.”

A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.

“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”

You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.

“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.

But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.

The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.

“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.

/

The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.

Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.

He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.

/

Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.

“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.

“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”

“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.

He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.

“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.

“I am sorry—”

You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”

You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”

Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.

“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”

“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.

“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”

You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.

You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”

You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

“…please.”

/

"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.

"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.

The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"

"Just put it in, Miguel."

Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.

"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”

That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”

The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.

“Yes, keep doing that.”

A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.

“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.

“Only for you, cariño.”

The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.

“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.

“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.

“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.

“I feel better than ever.”

Imagine dbf Miguel…

art credit to a lovely moot here @gltzpzy your art gives me life 🙂‍↕️

Wearing one of his undershirts, you stand idly at his door. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling childish at the idea of you being at his bedroom door at four in the morning. With a fist, you raise it to knock on the door but fail. You didn't want to interrupt his seven hours of sleep.

“This is stupid…” You think as you slowly back away from the door.

The floorboard under your feet creaked, creating a loud groan from your heavy weight against the sensitive wood. You scrunch your brows and close your eyes shut.

“¿Princesa?” His voice sends vibrations down your spine. “Yeah?” You croak out, your tone cracking.

“Are you having trouble sleeping, princesa?”

“…no?”

The silence was enough to tell you that he raised a brow from skepticism, and you could feel it through that wooden door.

“Okay, maybe I am. I keep hearing the neighbors singing drunkardly. And I wondered if I could sleep in your room tonight.” Silence sags the cold air, but the sound of the bed creaking from the other side of the door is enough to sink a sense of guilt into you.

The door swings open, and the smell of his cologne lingers in the air before the sensation of his hand ruffling the crown of your head. “C’mon in,” he sighs before gently tugging you into the room.

The sight of his messy bed, mostly bedsheets, indicated that he was enjoying a good night's sleep before you interrupted.

“Get into bed. I warmed it up for you…” he grumbles, a half-ass attempt at a joke. He combed his bed hair back before he took the left side of the bed, allowing you to take the right side.

The moment your body landed on his mattress, the softness and warmth enveloped you like a crispy burnt marshmallow on an autumn evening. “Ven para acá, princesa.” He waves his hand over after he settles down on the bed.

“¿Just get some sleep, m’kay?” He sighs, pulling you closer to his chest while rubbing a gentle hand on your arm. “¿Duérmete, okay?”

You nod before you snuggle closer to him. “Es hora de dormir, ignora los vecinos.” He sighs, his lips resting against your temple. “Duérmete…” He mumbles.

Bonus:

The shock of waking up to 300 pounds against your chest is enough to scare anyone, especially if this 300 pounds embracing you close with no escape, especially with a loud snore filling your ears at eight in the goddamn morning.

“Dammit, Miguel.”