Dbf!miguel - Tumblr Posts
@mybvalentine (some inspiration for you, my love.)
Sexy dbf! Miguel that, dominant dbf! Miguel this... What about corny and soft dbf! MIiguel?
Like dbf! Miguel making dad jokes.
dbf! Miguel who is bad with a computer, like really bad it's actually funny.
dbf! Miguel who falls asleep in the middle of watching TV, his glasses dangling from his nose as he quietly snores?
What about dbf! Miguel who sings badly but proudly at the top of his longs during every car ride the bangers from his younger days?
Dbf! Miguel whose passion is like puzzles. He is actually very good at this. And even if he feels a bit embarrassed to show them to you, you're never judgmental with him. And he feels more and more confident to show you the small scale models he makes during his free time. Like this man is skilled with his hands (in more ways than one) and he likes this type of hobbies who allow him to relax.
dbf! Miguel who always guesses the culprit during a thriller. You don't know how he does that but he is always right.
What about dbf! Miguel who is so embarrassed that he actually turns red when you discover old pictures of him with his very questionable fashion sense from the 90s?
dbf! Miguel who snuggles up with you on the couch to watch old movies with you during a rainy day, remembering how he used to see them in the theaters when they came out and now they are this easily available and he can enjoy them with you.
dbf! Miguel who laughs with you when you both watch an old horror movie together, trying to convince you that it was actually scary at the time. But all you can see are the poor special effects, the pathetic plastic mannequin supposed to be a dead body...but it doesn't care if the movie you're watching socks because you're actually together.
What about insecure dbf!Miguel who starts panicking when he notices a few grey hair on his head. And he turns all sheepish and looks at you with a guilty look when you stumble upon him trying to dye his grey roots.
Absolutely flustered dbf!Miguel who squirms and blushes slightly when you tell him that he doesn't need to hide himself, to hide anything or that his hair shines like silver.
================================
I think I like dbf! Miguel because this AU allows us to imagine Miguel getting older, which is something he might not be able to do because of his dangerous life and his mutation. Like, I want that man to experience a real, peaceful life at some point.
That's enough delusion for today. I'll leave you with these thoughts ~
Edit: thanks for the 200 likes, folks. I'm so glad you liked this 🌻
Lauro, you making me feel things I haven't felt 😖
HEY POOKS. Could you write a DBF!Miguel x dancer!reader. He just loves to watch her dance in competitions and recitals and helps her practice her routine by counting out 8’s for her <333
( maybe he can give reader a reward for doing so well but idk 🤭 )
[Rehearsal]
lab tester: Anonymous Participant (Hi @snails-doodles22) 🩻
summary: Miguel keeps you grounded as you prepare for a dance competition.
content warning: age gap (abeg she’s 21+), secret relationship, fluff, like two suggestive?? lowkey explicit scenes so MINORS BEWARE, a few thoughts of frustration/failure but nothing serious just the thoughts of an artist
word count: 1.9k, halfway proofread
a/n: Hi hi!! This one was really a challenge for me!! and Idk if I’ll write DBF again ngl Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! I leaned more on the age gap aspect of the relationship and pulled from how I felt when practicing for my own recitals/competitions 🤠! (I get extremely snappy and mean lol)
A Grand Adage (as best as I, not a professional ballerina but I practiced for 3 years, can explain) is a slower dance move where you stretch your leg to the front, side, and back without losing your balance. You also have to switch legs…I think. It looks like it takes a LOT of core strength, especially without a partner.
I don’t think I mention it in the story, but I’m imagining this Miguel to have salt and pepper hair, but like, in its early stages. So only a few strands of gray.
“Damn it.”
The music started to sound more and more jaded as you failed another Grand Adage after powering through the more fast-paced part of your routine.
You don’t know why you had the bright idea to add the most pain-inducing ballet moves to your contemporary piece, but you were starting to hate yourself for it. It was supposed to represent a crash and burn of rushing perfection which was ironic because you were feeling those emotions tenfold.
“You’re not going to get it if you keep trying to force it like that.” You heard Miguel from across the room and the music finally stopped. “It’s a pause between those last two counts. You know this, chiquita.”
You huffed out a chuckle as you got up, “Knowing and doing are two different things. I know what’s coming, which is why I keep anticipating it and messing it up.”
“The studio is all yours for a few more hours,” Miguel sighed. “Take a breath and try it again.”
“That’s so easy for you to say. You’re not the one busting your ass,” you mumbled as you got back into your starting position.
Miguel crossed his arms, head leaning on the wall above the barre, “You want to say that again?”
You dropped your arms and stared at him, face blank.
After a minute or so of you going silent, he unfolded his arms and beckoned you towards him.
You dragged your feet to get to him, hands hugging yourself.
“I know you want this to be perfect, but snapping at me isn’t going to help that.” His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, rubbing up and down the tightened muscles.
“I’m sorry, I just-” you rubbed your eyes with your palms. “The competition is so soon and I keep fucking the routine up.”
“And you’ve also done it perfectly countless other times. You’ve got this! I know you do. I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into dancing and that’s not going to change.”
“But Miguel-”
“But nothing. I’ve seen how you become a new person on the stage. You demand the attention of your audience in a way that your peers can’t. You’re captivating and alluring so I’m not going to sit here and let you think otherwise.”
You look at him with a face that says “I know you’re right, but I don’t want you to be,” and just fall onto his lap, wallowing in his arms while you breathe in his cologne.
He nuzzled you on the head, hands patting at your ass, hands warm and firm through your tights, “Now can you try again for me?”
“Can I have a kiss?” you say, lips rivaling a rubber duckie.
He chuckles at you but obliges, heart too soft when it comes to you.
You get up with new ambition, taking a deep breath as you stride back to the middle of the room.
“I’m going to count out loud for you this time, is that ok?”
“Yeah,” you reply, arms molding into a sharp form.
When the music starts this time, you hone in on Miguel’s voice, taking leaps and turns with his timbre. Your heart thumps all the same, but your brain isn’t as loud.
As the Grand Adage comes again, Miguel’s voice stays calm, never wavering. You tighten your core and lift your leg high, hands framed beautifully and foot pointed sharp as you hold your arms above your head. As you bring your leg back down to begin to turn, your heart almost stops when your body remains stable and strong. You can’t believe it but try to keep the piece's emotion steady.
You switch legs without trouble, eyes catching Miguel watching your form in the mirror. His face is serious but you can’t hear that in his voice, making you feel fuzzy. You keep up the pace, repeating the same move but gearing up to do an Illusion.
Like a flash, you bring your leg down and bend your body, foot spinning swiftly to perform the trick. Your heartbeat is roaring in your ears as you move through the rest of the routine, mind too excited from your success to completely portray the ending emotions of dance.
Once you finish, you’re quick to get out of your position, face lit up as you turn to Miguel. When you run to him, you’re screaming with glee. He only stumbles a bit when you jump in his arms, body wrapped around him like a koala.
“Miguel! Did’ya see it? Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” you laughed as he spun you around.
“I told you you could do it, amor. You just needed to get out of your head.”
“Ok ok, three more times and I think I’ll be ready to leave.”
“Well let’s get busy, chiquita. We’ve got work to do.”
You run through the routine again and again, becoming more confident each time. After every successful routine, Miguel’s praises get more and more loving. First a deep hug, then a few pecks to the lips, then a makeout session that has you squirming for more.
“Is your dad picking you up today?” he said, lips on your neck.
You turn your nose up at the mention of him, “No, I took the bus.”
“Could have asked me to drop you off.”
“You were at work, Miggy. Didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’re never a bother,” he stopped to move his forehead to yours. “You can come over tonight. You need to relax after all of this hard work.”
“And what do I tell my dad when he asks where I am?” your eyes pan from his eyes to his lips, fingers reaching up to go through his hair.
“Tell him you’re at a girlfriend’s house.”
You twist your mouth to the side, pretending to think.
“How are you planning to relax me?”
“A hot bath.”
You snickered, knowing better than to believe that was all he was planning to do, but taking his word for it.
Hours later when you were laid on your back, hands gripping the sheets below you and Miguel holding your legs up as he stroked deep inside, your suspicions were confirmed. Your skin was soft from the bath and your muscles were like jelly after he spent an hour massaging every tight muscle out of you. The room was full of him, his smell surrounding you, and the noises of him attending to your every need. With every cry of his name, he brought you closer to the horizon.
On the day of your competition, you didn’t even look at Miguel before you went on, nerves too bad. If he gave you a pep talk, internally, you would be appreciative, but externally, you might tell him to leave you the fuck alone.
Knowing how you get, he supported you in the best way he could by sending you messages and a light breakfast in the morning.
“Break a leg, chiquita”
“Not literally of course”
“I’ll be waiting for you once it’s over”
“With a surprise :)”
It was enough to fill you with anticipation, ready to give it all on the floor.
Once your number was called, you went to the center and got into position. The crowd was dark enough to feel like it was just you in the room, but your heart knew otherwise with how fast it was beating.
When the music starts, it’s like Miguel’s voice is a soundtrack playing through your memory. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in the crowd cheering you on. Your feet move across the floor, body tightening and relaxing when needed. Your face wears a frustrated expression, portraying the sentiment of everything falling out of control. Your leaps and turns come one after another moving your form across the stage.
The Grand Adage comes to you like lightning, you don’t even notice you’re doing it until it happens. The muscle memory takes over and you transition to the Illusion like it's nothing. Your mind wanders as you go through to the end of the routine, finishing strongly with your pose on the floor.
The cheers of the audience are what bring you back to reality. A feeling of relief washes over you as you stand and bow, smiling brightly.
Standing with the other dancers from your category, you don’t expect the judges to call your name for first place, so when they all turn to look at you, you feel like you might have walked out in your underwear by accident.
It isn’t until you’re handed a bouquet of flowers and a trophy that it dawns on you that your hard work has paid off. The check was no measly amount of money either.
Looking out to the crowd, you can see Miguel standing up with his hands cupped over his mouth as he yells. Your family is standing next to him cheering as well. You wave at them, jumping up and down in excitement. Only you can see the wink Miguel gives you.
When you meet them out in the lobby, you have to stop yourself from keeping your attention on Miguel.
“You did amazing, honey,” your dad says, squeezing the life out of you. “That flip thing? I don’t know how you did it, but wow!”
“It’s called an Illusion,” Miguel shakes his head. “Keep up.”
“What are you, her coach or something?”
“C’mon you guys,” your mom fusses. “Don’t start bickering in the building. At least wait until we get dinner.”
“‘M gonna ride with Miguel,” you say to them.
Knowing how much you like his car, your parents think nothing of it and walk out to their own car.
Once they’re out the door, he turns and gives you a deep kiss, “You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”
“I just remembered what you said. Kept it in the back of my mind while I performed.”
He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist, “Yeah?”
You nod and bring his lips to yours again.
“Where’s my surprise?”
“Always so impatient.”
“You wouldn’t like me any other way.”
“Tienes rázon,” Miguel chuckled.
Miguel brings a sparkly gift bag to your attention, placing it in your hands. You reach into the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. You pull out an envelope and a long velvet box.
You open the box, eyes glittering when you see the necklace inside.
“Miguel, this is adorable!”
“Here,” he takes the necklace out of the box. “Let me help you put it on.”
You turn and focus your attention on the envelope, fingers sliding under the sealed flap.
Your breath halts when you pull the tickets out.
“To Paris?”
You turn to him once your necklace is latched together, eyes teary from happiness.
“You’ve been doing so amazing, I wanted to treat you to an amazing trip.”
“How much did this cost?”
“Nothing that you should worry your head about.”
You crowd his space, kissing his face all over, “Thank you so much, Miguel.”
“Of course. Anything for my girl.”
“I don’t want to go out to dinner now,” you sigh dramatically.
“Yeah? You know we can’t bail, though.”
“Not even if I give my thanks to you in the car?”
Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, watching you grin at him. He’s really way too soft when it comes to you.
“Vamos.”
As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
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.”
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.”
i listened to the entirety of paradise & lust for life while drawing dbf!miguel.. is it obvious?!?! but.. oh to be held by dbf!miguel..
and manhandled by as well
writing the backstory of my dbf!miguel drawings since everyone is weird and writing that miguel knew reader since she was a kid…….. this is going to be a ongoing au bc i’m bored………
dbf!miguel tb to the 90s because i’m going insane for this miguel. he’s in his early 40s in this au he wouldve been 17 instead of like 30 lol so let’s just pretend we’re in the 2010s just so it can match up (unless some of y’all like that .. erm .. 🤨🤨)
First of all, another lesbian who likes Miguel O'Hara HEYYYYY and second, I saw this graphic on instagram that said "I want his cross dangling in front of my face and I IMMEDIATELY thought of ur dbf's Miguel. Anyway, that's it I love ur art MWAH!
“i want his cross dangling in front of my face”
first HIIIIII !! and second i think i exploded from that holy cow!! writers write that down!! please!! i need that cross necklace dancing in my face now!!
i’m so gushy you immediately thought of my dbf!miguel’s from that 🥹🥹🩷 !! and thank you so much muah 💋 !!
TO BE SPOILED AND HELD BY DBF!MIGUEL HOLY SHIR😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
“por favor no llores niña, no me gusta ver te así. everything will be okay, i promise”
WGATTTTTTTTTT IM GOING INSANE IN A LIBRARY DONT DO THJS TO ME
dbf!miguel always greeting you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek when you open the door for him, inhaling his strong musky cologne as he wraps his muscular arms around you “cómo estas chica? donde esta tu papá?”
dbf!miguel asking you how college is going, then your dad telling him you’ve been slacking on your assignments recently. “she’s a really smart girl compa, don’t be so hard on her” miguel tells him while giving you a wink and a smile
dbf!miguel who is always there for you when you need anything. a ride to the mall? he’ll drive you. forgot something at home? he’ll bring it to you. need to be picked up from a party? he’ll be there soon.
dbf!miguel who spoils you for your birthday and christmas and basically whenever he gets the chance. you’ll talk to him about something cute you been wanting from the mall and next thing you know he’s gifting it to you at the end of the week!
dbf!miguel who’ll hold you and wipe your tears away with his thumb while you cry to him about your problems as he listens and comforts you. “por favor no llores niña, no me gusta ver te así. everything will be okay, i promise” as he kisses the top of your head, holding you to his chest.
dbf peter & miguel by the grill ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒🌺 .. tbh i’d give them both hands, my mouth and my pu- [REDACTED]
![Dbf Peter & Miguel By The Grill .. Tbh Id Give Them Both Hands, My Mouth And My Pu- [REDACTED]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/59eb822f1e78029244350322a2d25f42/7f2d448bfe5da5a7-5b/s500x750/b6185656bf4e9ffa357b5d84b06012892f19efd9.jpg)
![Dbf Peter & Miguel By The Grill .. Tbh Id Give Them Both Hands, My Mouth And My Pu- [REDACTED]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/65e4ea0b0df70092511cb190895bf8c8/7f2d448bfe5da5a7-ee/s400x600/5726ae73516213fd8ed1525da7ddc95cdda6da64.jpg)
self insert photobooth pic with dbf!miguel to help with the voices help they’re getting louder
inspo / ref under more (^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^)
this is literally him
this is MY dbf!miguel………………….
i need dbf moguel to play the guitar and sing a song to me or i’ll die
DBF!Miguel is a one hand on the wheel one hand on ur thigh kinda driver 😫😫😫
OOOOOOOOOOYES 😩💖
n he’s not just like that in the car, his hands are ALWAYS on you. like if ur walking around the house his hands are on your hips to navigate you, he always puts your feet in his lap while you guys are sitting on the couch n massages them
it’s not even sexual touching most of the time, he just needs to feel you!!!!!!! hmphhhhhh (n he does the thumb thing when you guys hold hands n gives ur hand a lil kiss🤭😵💫)
i’ve listened to oscar isaac singing for the past ten minutes i’m genuinely going insane sjdkwkriekekssssssss
i need dbf to play the guitar and sing a song to me or i’ll die
omg (click more if u down bad for dbf peter n miguel ……. like really down bad…….. it’s 🌽 related if u catch my drift. i warned u.)
SOOO… i downloaded twt again bc i was bored n someone on here posted plinks of joel n i wanted to watch them in the app rather ukno?
then i was scrolling thru vids not really looking for anything AND BRO…… I JUST SAW A VIDEO THATS LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE DBF MIG & PETER (minus body hair on miguel, they’re lucky or else i would’ve squirted everywhere😒)
the audio is ASS and my friend were making fun of their moans lol but the VISUALS….. BROOOO…….. SOMEONE PUT ME DOWN
more dbf!miguel old ig feed bc i cant sleep
og post + 2099 miguel ig feed <3
dbf!miguel checks all of these
personally if that was me..
“ES UN SECRETO!” — ft. dbf!miguel
today's family get-together has been quite, eventful. certaintly having a thing with your dad's best friend was going to make barbecues and family dinners harder, but god, it is unbearable.
this entire summer day, being around miguel has been incredibly difficult, and you knew it was going to be ever since he walked through the door. denim jeans, black buttoned up shirt with a bit of his chest exposed, gold chain and hair perfectly framing his chiseled face. fuck.
all party long you, and even him, have been trying to be as discreet as possible. not glancing in his direction for far too long. not rubbing up on him. no flirting or teasing. not even conversing “casually” like two family friends would. you feel like your suffocating, having him in your presence and not being able to do anything about it.
throughout the day, you grow tired of this whole secretive act and let yourself go. well, just a little. placing your hand on his thigh as you and others watch sports on the tv. eyeing him up and down as he talks to the other invitees. poking fun at him in a group conversation.
your teasings are driving miguel mad, seeing how shameless you are by acting this way infront of everyone’s clueless eyes, and all he can do is just tolerate it. he can't tell if it’s making him frustrated or turned on.
—
the afternoon sun shines upon your backyard, music booming in the background as the delicious aroma of grilled meat fills the air.
you gather around with some of your beloved cousins and family friends, sipping from your cocktails together as you all catch up on each others lives. laughs and cheers spreading amongst the group.
across the lawn, miguel chats with your uncle and some other male relatives as they drink around the fuming bbq. although he’s meters away from you, he can't seem to take his eyes off of you, especially after what you’ve been pulling for the last hour.
he stares at your every move, the way you laugh, the way your legs cross in the lawn chair, the way your hair shines in the sun. he's holding back so bad. he's dying to just be there next to you, arm around you, touching you, being all yours like he should be.
you grin at your cousin as she shares all the juicy details of her story, seeing miguel in your peripheral. you turn your head slightly, your grin fading into a slight smirk as you notice his look from afar.
sipping his beer slowly, his eyes are intense. he knows what your thinking, and you know it too. his leg crossed infront of the other as he leans against the wooden fence. chills run all over your body from the eye contact, goosebumps on your skin almost like it’s the first time. after a couple seconds, he turns his head back to the conversation. tongue in his cheek as he looks down, attempting not to smile.
"you good?" your cousin raises a brow, nudging you on the shoulder. you cough in your fist, "yeah, sorry" you chuckle nervously, placing your cocktail on the glass table infront of you. getting up from your chair, you brush down your shirt, “needa use the bathroom real quick, tell me what happens next when i come back" you grin. your smile drops as you turn and walk back inside your house. miguel curiously watches you, the way you make your way inside rather fast.
you head down a long hallway and straight to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. leaning against the door for a second, you try to catch some air from all the tension and noise from the world outside. you wash your hands and quickly dry them, turning towards the mirror. you take a close look at your face, touching up your makeup with your finger and fixing your hair. you don’t know how much longer you can do this.
a minute goes by and you hear a subtle knock at the door. you stay silent, unsure if you really heard a knock after all. seconds later, another knock, only a bit louder than the previous one. “busy!” you call out politely, slightly panicking in the hopes that nobody attempts to walk in on you. “y/n,” says in a low breathy voice against the door. “abre la puerta”
part 2 next week 😶 ….