dark-garfield-is-hot

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

I cant wait for the next chapter ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Secrets Of The Duke Vampire Miguel O'Hara PT 4

Summary: During a chance encounter with the Duke of Nueva York, you discover he’s a Vampire when his compulsion doesn’t work on you. What happens when he holds you captive in hopes of keeping his century-old secret.....a secret?

Tags: Beauty and the Beast retelling, Vampire Miguel, arranged marriage, set in the 1800s(hence why he's a Duke), another ff where's he's mean in the beginning, fluff+sweet moments(finally), the plot thickens, 5.8k words

A/N: Super duper sorry for the long wait but I've had the flu+work+school. BUT for those still waiting on "The Fates That Tie" I promise it'll be out soon!Mwah xoxoxo<333

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

•°~°•

Sleeping in this frozen room is horrible you're not sure if you can keep doing this. While your mind might be playing tricks on you, you swear you can see your breath.  Not to mention that when you awoke your stomach was in knots and sadly you know what that means: your time of the month is near.

As you make your way down to breakfast you bump into Lyla and Jess. They bow to you before leading you to the lowly lit dining hall.  “There's something I need to get off my chest. I'm sorry for yesterday I shouldn't have spoken like that. He's your Duke and-”

“Please my lady no we shouldn't have lied to you. Curse or no curse that wasn't right. We're sorry” You nod to them grabbing both of their hands to give it a gentle squeeze. 

“While you're both here is there any chance that I can get thicker dresses? I don't think I can last throughout the winter if I don't have any.  And then for my room is there any way I can get a fire going seems like no cover is thick enough to prevent the cold air from reaching me”                              

“Of course my lady we'll see to it we're not so sure about the fire however we haven't had the need for firewood in forever the fire in the Duke's rooms is magic”  You're about to say something in response when the rest of the servants bring in breakfast and the Duke strolls in.

When the Duke sits your eyes meet and immediately you're unsure of what to do. He gives you a nod and you find yourself doing the same. Silence coats the air as you eat and surprisingly he's the one that breaks it first. 

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did…and you”

“I wouldn't know I don't sleep”

Oh.

Ermmmm how are you supposed to respond to that?              

 “Well that's unfortunate” Silence fills the air again but soon breakfast is over and you're returning to your room. 

Yeah, that wasn’t awkward at all….

•°~°•

Although snow coats the gardens you can't help it that you still want to try to work on it. You have faith. Faith that life would be restored to the lands once more.  Your thicker dresses haven’t arrived yet so you're forced to bundle up using multiple layers before heading outside. 

When you make it outside every piece of land that you worked on including the part that you didn’t get to is covered in snow. Your progress is ruined. Immediately you sink to your knees combing away the snow, having to pause occasionally as your hands grow uncomfortable due to the low temperature.  Just like yesterday, you feel someone watching you so you turn your head to see if they are hiding at the same window. Turning your head quickly hoping to catch a glimpse of them but all you catch is the curtain's movement, a sign that they did not want to be caught.       

“My lady, would you like some help? You can’t be out in the cold very long for your dresses haven’t arrived yet” You turn expecting only Lyla however it’s more than 6 servants that are there. “Lyla, what’s all this?”

“The lord requested that we help you” Confusion dances across your features. Was he the one watching you then? Maybe not. He's supposed to be resting during the day.  Jess or Lyla probably told him what you were up to. You give her a nod, and you need all the help you can get. Being so engrossed in your work you hadn’t realized your face grew wet causing your hair to stick to it and your nose started running. Gwen was the first to mention it.

She places a hand on your shoulder. “Why must you cry, my lady?”             

You tap at your face hoping to wipe the tears away. “I-I’m not sure I just really want this to work I suppose. Back home my neighbors and friends sometimes pay me to look after their gardens. It brings me joy to watch it flourish after weeks of hard work.”

“But our land is cursed”

“That doesn’t mean it can’t get care and attention, it deserves to grow”

•°~°•

Miguel is sitting in his study when there’s a knock on the door. Enters Lyla with parts of her dress soaked from being in the snow. “Does she require more help?”

“No my lord we’re enough….it's just that the lady cries and I’m unsure of what to do”

Miguel can feel his anger rise. Someone has made you cry and for that, they must pay. “I want a name”                           

Lyla shakes her head. “No she cries for the gardens, the snow has ruined her hard work but with another storm approaching our work today will be for nothing” He could almost laugh. Of course, you would be the type to cry over gardens. You are a peculiar one indeed.  He thinks it over as he turns the pages of the book that has been no help to him. He's never had the need to worry about the gardens when he has servants for that.

Miguel sighs as he closes the book. It's daytime he's supposed to be resting and yet here he is reading books that are supposed to help him understand why his magic didn’t work on you.  “Build something large enough to cover the gardens. Only the men will build and make sure they start during the night when she’s sleeping. It should be done by the time she wakes in the morning” Lyla takes a bow as she leaves.                 

•°~°•

By the time lunch rolls around your spirits are depleted. If you could skip dinner you would but you're in no mood to deal with the Duke and his commentary.      

It's when you're halfway through your meal he decides to speak. You know something changed between the two of you since that night but for him to begin a conversation with you again makes you uneasy….it feels like he's planning something. Because why else would he want to speak with you?

“You've grown attached to the gardens”

You nod. “I suppose so…I gardened a lot when I was home”

“You're wasting your time” 

You scoff. The audacity of this man who keeps you here giving you nothing to do but sit around and play his Duchess and he's mad that to pass time you tend to his garden…..“Well, what else do you think I should do with my time here? You don't even have books for me to read the most you have are dictionaries and even those are outdated and-”

“You like to read?”

“W-What?” You pause stunned by his question. “You said there's no books for you to read I'm assuming you like to read”

You pick up a napkin bringing it to your lips to hide your face. Suddenly feeling…shy. What's wrong with you?  “Oh yes I do I always have—but that's beside the point why are you getting mad at me for gardening?”

“I—dammit no that came out wrong I'm not mad it's just your wasting your time trying to bring life to something that's already dead”

“I have faith and you should too or are you lacking in that department as well?” He says nothing as he stares at you. Maybe you shouldn’t have added that last part. 

“My faith died the moment I was turned so yes I am lacking in that department—” He gets up from the table throwing a napkin on his plate. “If you'll excuse me” You watch as he leaves the dining hall he's probably retiring to his room. You’ve only seen him once after your shared meals are over so you’re sure won't see him till dinner time.

As you finish up your meal you can't help but head straight to your room. You didn't do anything wrong but why do you feel like you did?  He’s been nothing but awful to you since you’ve been here and so what if you hurt his feelings he’ll live.  

When dinner time rolls around, you feel even more awful when he isn’t sitting opposite of you. All it took was one comment, and now he’s ignoring you. It’s been a month since you had to endure his behavior, and yet you're fine….men are always so sensitive. 

You pull yourself out of your thoughts as you rake your fingers through your wet curls. Although the bath was great now that you no longer have the warmth of the hot water you’re back to the freezing cold. It seems like Lyla hasn't been able to get any wood for you.

Checking the clock you realize that it's half past one. Surely the Duke would be in his room right now and not in his study? The only two places that have a working fire all throughout the estate are his room and his study so you have to pick your poison.

Grabbing your duvet hesitantly you walk through the halls leading to his study you try to peek below the door to see if there's any light shining but you can't.

 Opening the door you poke your head through your eyes scanning the area to see if he's in there. When you don't find him you take a step inside and you almost let out a sigh of relief but as you turn your head to the side you see him standing in the corner leaning on one of the bookshelves. His white shirt is loosened revealing his chest and his hair is not kept out of his face like usual.

Oh my, he must've been getting ready for bed. You've probably been staring for far too long because his eyebrows raise as if to question you.

“I'm sorry I wasn't aware that you were in here. I'll take my leave”

He points to the fire. “Is it not warmth that you seek?”

“Yes, but this room is already occupied by you so…” Your words trail off as he points to the couch. “I will not stop you from sleeping” He then walks himself to the desk burying himself in his rows of books without sparing you another glance. You open your mouth to speak but you're unsure of what you should say next. You're not even sure if you can sleep if he'll be just a few feet away from you. Closing the door you make sure to make little noise so you won't upset him. 

You hold your duvet tightly around your chest you've suddenly become aware of the very little clothing that you wear underneath this. You're in just your nightgown, nothing else. Sitting down on the couch you look around the room. There has to be at least a hundred books here. You wonder if you asked him nicely if he'll allow you to read one. As your eyes continue to wander you can't help it as you watch him. From this perspective, he looks like a regular young man you wouldn't be able to tell that he's a blood-sucking monster or a hundred years old.

The hopes of you sleeping are now non-existent. How does he expect you to sleep when he's in the room? Granted you don't think he would try anything but….you just can't.  

“You're staring” You quickly look away because he is right you are staring. “I wish not to offend you I just can't sleep”

His eyes remain cast in the books, and he doesn't even spare a glance your way as he speaks to you. “Does my presence bother you?”

“No I just can't sleep anymore…my lord” You try to ignore that he's still trying to make conversation with you isn't this like the 3rd time for today? Silence fills the air between the two of you and you're about to say something when the sound of banging from outside reaches your ears. 

You begin to look around the room. “What is-” The Duke cuts you off as he clears his throat. “Do you wish to help me?”

“I'm sorry?”

He sighs. “I really don't like repeating myself” You narrow your eyes at him before slowly rising to your feet. “What is it that you need help with?”

“I need to look over all of these books about witches, curses, and vampires” 

“And you need my help for that?”

“If you choose not to sleep then it certainly would be easier if you can help” You nod as you begin to look around for a chair to drag to his desk. Dragging a chair to his desk you sit down waiting expectantly for him to give you a book.

“Which ones have you finished and which do we still need to look over?” He points to the large pile of books on the left side of him all without looking up from his book. Jeez if he didn't want to look at you he could've just said so. Or better yet why does he insist that you stay?

•°~°•

This is the second time you've been in his space. His personal sanctuary if you will. The first time this happened he was on the verge of bleeding out. Dire circumstances brought the two of you here but now you're here—just because.  He's not sure if he should even speak to you. But what would he say?

Miguel knows that time is running out. The snow falling on his estate is a clear indicator of that but how must he go about it? How must he go about having you fall in love with him and him falling in love with you?

It's different if he performed acts of kindness in the shadows but to do it in the light where you can see it is a whole nother territory. He sneaks a glance at you taking a break from staring at words on a paper. 

The flames dance across your skin wonderfully. But you're tired. The lines under your eyes give you away. Maybe he shouldn't have asked you to help him….but if he didn't he would risk you finding that he had his servants building something for you.

He notices that your hair is wet. The end of your curls leaves droplets to land on your duvet. He also noticed how fast your heartbeat has picked up since you first stepped in here. It's as if you can feel his stare on you. Surely you can't, right?

•°~°•

He's staring.

He's staring really hard.

And you don't know what to do about it. It's like you can feel the heat of his stare on you and no you don't mean the heat from the flames. The heat from his stare is a different kind of heat altogether.

You want to question him but what would you even say? As time went on you watched as the words began to jumble and your eyelids grew heavy. Falling asleep in his presence was definitely the last thing you wanted to do but something about being in this room felt so comforting.

•°~°•

You don't remember when exactly you fell asleep but you do remember hearing the sound of something sharp unsheathing from well—something.

With wide eyes, you wake to find another pair of wide eyes staring back at you. 

It's the Duke.

You also see his long nails that are dangerously close to your face. Is he trying to hurt you?

“A stray hair has fallen. I only wish to remove it with my nails so my touch wouldn't wake you. I was not trying to hurt you” Slowly you nod not sure of what else should you say and watch with hooded eyes as he drags your curl away from your face all while holding eye contact with you. This feels oddly too intimate.

“Do you still wish to reside here or should I take you to the couch?” He knows your answer before you do because he picks you up bridal style and brings you to his couch making sure your duvet is still tightly wrapped around you.

“Sleep, I will not hurt you” Is the last thing you hear before you fall under.

•°~°•

When you woke you were alone but the fire still raged. Quickly you retired to your own room to get ready for the day. No words despite “good morning” and “good afternoon” were the only things exchanged between you and the Duke during breakfast and lunch. It was weird yesterday it felt like you guys had shared a moment but then today it felt like you both didn't know how to move forward from it. This seems to be a regular occurrence between the two of you.

As the day went on you felt pain in your stomach. It was small but very noticeable. It happened at random hours during the day but you knew what that meant. It's just another reminder that your time of the month is even closer than you thought. Oh, how you dreaded when that moment came. Is there even a proper name for this time? When will we figure out why women bleed each month? 

Your stomach pains have kept you away all day from the gardens because it was well past dinner when you finally got the courage to go.

As Lyla escorts you to the gardens you can't help but notice how there's an extra pep in her step. Uh oh, that can't be good.

“Lyla, what did you do?”

She answers with a smile. “Well I haven't done anything but I'm still excited nonetheless”

“Lyla what-” You pause the moment the garden comes into view. Wooden planks surround the garden and it looks like glass is used at the top and along the sides of it so the plants can still get sunlight when needed. Oh my, they probably built it for you after you complained yesterday about the snow. You can feel your eyes sting with tears. This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for you.

You throw your arms around Lyla without even thinking and when you see Jess out of the corner of your eyes you pull her for a hug as well.

“Thank you guys so much for this. How did you even build this? I was here just yesterday”

“Oh no, now I would love to take the credit but this wasn't us. We didn't even think of it this was all the Dukes doing. He made sure his instructions were to start once the lights went out in your room” Now that you think about it, that's probably the banging noise that you heard last night.

“But I don't understand why would he do such a thing”

You can tell by the way Lyla points her gaze to the floor and how Jess looks at Lyla expectantly you already know what happened. “We may—” Jess cuts her off. 

“You may-”

“Right, I may or may not have told him you were crying about it yesterday” Now you want to get annoyed but you know you can't so instead you pull her in for another hug before getting to work.

•°~°•

The moon is high in the sky when you finally decide to go back inside for the day. You're tired so all you do is wash up and grab your duvet. Should you check on the Duke? Give him thanks for the little house he made for your garden. 

 You’re in awe your own little garden house. Your face heats up at the thought of it. After cleaning up you head over to his study and knock.

“Enter” You take a deep breath as you do. 

“Good evening my lord” You walk all the way up to him. The chair that you left last night is in the same place so you take a seat. His eyes follow you till you are seated. 

“Hi,” He tilts his head at you as if he's confused. You tuck a curl behind your ear. Dammit, you can feel yourself getting shy. You didn't expect him to do something so—so nice for you.

“I want to say thank you Lyla told me that you had your servants build me a house for my—I mean your garden. That was very nice of you. You didn't have to do that” 

“She said that you were crying because of the storm damaging your progress and since you are my Duchess it's only right that I do something to make you happy”

My Duchess….Huh? You hadn't expected him to say that it sounded…weird, too intimate, and too domestic.  “I forget that we're married we don't do martial things”

“Are you suggesting we share a room? Sleep in the same bed?...Duchess”

You nearly choke on your saliva. “N-No I was just expecting…truthfully I don't know what I was thinking but it wasn't this. I've been married before and it was fun and we spent almost every waking minute together, but us—me and you….It doesn't feel like that at all. It almost makes me sad given that I am stuck here forever. Marriage is supposed to be beautiful” Oh Gods what are you saying? You're his captive he's your captor of course it's going to feel different. Oh girl, get a grip.

You can't even look him in the eye. You turn your face to the raging fire on your left. You hear as the Duke takes a deep breath. “You want me to spend more time with you-” Immediately you cut him off you blame the changes in your body for your foolishness. “No no no please just ignore me I don't know what came over me things are fine the way they are let's just continue looking for these answers yeah?”

You open up the same book you had yesterday. As you read on and on about the witches you scan their names and your eyes linger on the name circled in red ink. The more you look at it the more you realize you've seen that name before. Hell, the name even sounds familiar. Closing the book you rest your hand on your temples trying to figure it out.

The Duke seems to notice this because he closes his and rests his hand on your shoulder. “Is everything alright? Do you need any-”

“Oh…no I've heard of this name before” You're not sure why it's taken you so long to figure it out but you're sure of it that's her…she's one of your ancestors. They always talked about her your family has lots of powerful women it is even rumored that she was tempering with dark magic.

The Duke's voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Tell me where have you heard of this name” 

“I believe this is one of my ancestors. I'm even sure we have her picture up somewhere in my estate. She was rumored to be a very powerful woman and before you say anything I swear on it I had no idea a-and I didn't plan this all to happen we don’t even share the same last name so-” He cuts you off giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I trust you. But that means she gave me one of her ancestors to break the curse. She made me wait 100 years just to taunt me? Just because she knows how short my patience is? Could it be possible that she had your mind protected in some way?”

You think it over before you speak this is a lot and you're not sure what to make of this information yet. “Maybe she was able to see into the future but I don't know that seems a little far fetched” You pause as you think things over how can this be possible? It seems so unlikely that she would want you to break the spell. Why would she want her own family to do it? 

“I would say that on the night when I ran away…I swear I saw a saddle magically appear on the horse but I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me. Then not to mention after you fought the wolves I contemplated leaving you but I'm sure I heard someone say ‘Don’t leave him my child’ It's like someone or something was guiding me” You wrap your arms around yourself unsure of what to make out of all this. How can your ancestor do something like this? Curse all these innocent people all because of one man?

The Duke rests back in his chair, his eyes are closed and his fingers are running circles on his temples. You can practically see the wheels turning in his head. But he looks angry for the most part. If you were him and you just found out that the woman who is supposed to break your curse somehow is the same woman related to the person who cursed you, you would definitely need a moment.

 So you begin to gather up the books, closing each one before closing your own. “I should go it's pretty late already”

“Oh—right” He clears his throat before speaking again. “Do you wish to retire here for the night?” He points at the couch. “No I'll take my leave I'll give you some time to yourself” Gathering your things you begin to head out.

“Wait, no don't go” You stop dead in your tracks but you don't turn around. “How can you ask me to stay after what you just heard?” You pause as you think it over. You'll answer the question for him. “I'm actually not really feeling up to it tonight we can resume tomorrow Goodnight my lord”

•°~°•

Miguel doesn't sleep but tonight out of all nights he's found himself dozing off. That is until the smell of blood hits his nose. This blood is unlike anything he's ever smelled before it smells sweet but tangy. The more the smell assaults his senses the more he realizes that it's familiar.

It's your blood.

He springs into action without even giving it a second thought. He doesn’t have any time to waste you could be hurt bleeding out or worse: you could be dying. The minute he reaches your door he turns the knob only to find it locked. 

He pounds on the door with his fist the impact of it rattling the hinges. “Open the door! Are you hurt? Tell me what’s going on”

“I-I just a moment, please or actually come back later I’m kind of busy right now” He takes note of the tone in your voice. You sound alarmed and panicked even. Miguel bangs again. “No, I’m giving you five seconds before I break down the door”

“O’Hara—please just give me a moment.” He pauses for a second, your words playing like an echo in the back of his mind. You just said his name, you've never said his name before something is really wrong. That’s it he's coming in.  Using his shoulder the door opens with one push causing Miguel to stumble in. His eyes quickly find your eyes that are so wide they might be very close to popping out of the socket. He then notices the dark red stain in the front of your nightgown close to your pelvis and on the white sheets. The scene unfolds right before his eyes, where you are trying to take the sheets off the bed.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, this is rather… awkward.

He needs to break the ice before your hate for him grows. He straightens up rising to his full height. “My lady I swear I-”

“Get out”

“Please my lady it was by accident I smelled blood and I thought something was wrong-”

“Y-You can smell me?” He takes note of the way your voice shakes, dammit he shouldn’t have said anything. “Well, only your blood if you’re worried about how you smell then I can assure you that you smell wonderful just when I smelt your blood I thought you were hurt—dying” He pauses once he realizes he's rambling. 

He never rambles. 

“J-Just get out”

He takes a step closer. “I can he-”

“O’Hara leave”

He gives up right as he turns around Lyla and Jess come running in with extra sheets, a bowl of hot water, and rags. He manages to stop Jess before she enters the room.

“She's okay, right? This is just um…her woman's time of the month” Miguel makes rather awkward circles around his pelvic area. This seems to annoy Jess because she rolls her eyes. “Yes, this is the time of month when a woman bleeds from her lady parts. I know you were trying to help but leave her be. This is no place for a man” Before he can respond the door closes on his face.

He turns and walks away. He just wanted to help.

•°~°•

“Lyla, I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him” To say that you're embarrassed is an understatement. Why would he just barge in like that? You sink into the bathtub that is filled with hot water to ease your pain.

“He was only trying to help my lady don't think too much of it”

“Lyla I locked the door and he barged in like a madman and the fact that he can smell me makes it even worse”

“Oh hush he thought you were dying, cut him some slack” You hear Jess shout out as she helps Lyla with the sheets. Hastily you begin to scrub yourself eager to wash your embarrassment away ignoring both Jess and Lyla.

By the time you're finished, there are fresh sheets on the bed and your belt is in place. You grumble under your breath as you sit back on your bed. You turn to face Jess. “I can't even head down to breakfast I'm too embarrassed” 

“Should I bring it to you upstairs?”

“Yes, that would be great Jess thank you” When they get up there's a knock at the door. “My lady if all is well I have your breakfast…..I figured you might not want to come down and eat so I have it here. Should I leave it at the door or bring it inside?” You’re about to respond when both Lyla and Jess place a hand over your mouth answering for you instead. Your eyes grow wide once you realize what they’ve done. You do not want to eat with the Duke nor do you want him in your room. They quietly apologize to you before fussing with your hair and adding shine to your lips.

Once satisfied they head to the door, sneakily giving you a thumbs up right as he walks through with your breakfast in hand. You can feel your cheeks warm the second your eyes meet. You truly can’t wait to give Lyla and Jess an earful for leaving you with this man after being so embarrassed curse be damned.

“I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my actions this morning,” He says while placing the tray of food on your lap, and setting the tea down on the bedside counter. You turn away from him as you begin to fiddle with your porridge. You hope he leaves soon; you're not sure how much you can take of this. 

He sits before speaking again. “Would you like to join me in the gardens when you’re finished?” This immediately catches your attention. He always speaks ill of the gardens but now he’s requesting you join him. 

“You never go down to the gardens”

“I know”

“You also never expressed care for the gardens either”

“Yes I also know that as well”

You look at him questionly with a raised brow.  “This is an extra attempt for me to accept your apology isn’t it”

“Well is it working?” You told your hands across your chest careful to not spill the porridge. “Meet me downstairs in the lobby once I’m done”

•°~°•

Unfortunately, your thicker dresses haven’t arrived yet so you’re forced to use your shawl once again. As you descend down the stairs, the Duke is waiting there for you. You feel rather nervous as his eyes are trained on you. You hate how intensely he stares at you. It feels as though he can see your inner thoughts, and your feelings without having to do anything.  When you reach he offers you his elbow and you look at it hesitantly before accepting.

As soon as you reach the gardens you're both down on your hands and knees tending to the garden. For a man who has been giving out orders for the past hundred years, he sure does listen well. You told him how to properly plant the seeds and how much space is needed in between each set. A brisk wind messes up your curls and causes a shiver to course through your body. 

At the corner of your eyes, you watch as he rises to his feet. He then grabs you by the arm forcing you to rise. You let out a huff. “What did I tell you about manhandling me?” He takes off his jacket all while making eye contact. His stare is once again so intense you have to look away. 

Damn him.

He holds it up in front of him and you turn around so he can help you put it on. You mentally curse yourself for being so submissive. He turns you around so you can button it up and this time you can’t help but stare at him. The winds cause his own hair to be blown around and you hate that he looks so….normal so handsome. Granted you knew he was attractive since the very first night. You wouldn’t have let him between your thighs then if he wasn't. 

In another world, this would seem like a courting gesture between a man and a woman. But you know better this is probably just him trying not to have his captive freeze to death. Getting tired of watching his hair be so misplaced your hand moves on its own tucking a loose strand behind his ear. Catching yourself all too late you take a step back and gasp in horror at what you just did. But he reaches out tugging you by his jacket closing the distance between you and does the same thing to you. However, he holds your curl twirling it in his fingers before tucking it behind your ear. 

His voice is low and raspy. He almost sounds breathless although his chest remains completely still. “Just returning the favor Duchess”

For a second everything outside disappears but then he pulls away and everything comes rushing back. He rolls up his sleeves and goes back to planting more seeds.

You’ve made up your mind bringing him back from the woods was not a good decision.

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

okay.. hear me out

miguel o’hara as muriel from the arcana?!

this is still a wip, lol

(my art btwww :3)

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Kinktober Day 23 ~ Pegging

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Summary: After another thing goes wrong in Spider Society, you help him not worry about it anymore.

A/N: I need to write about messing with that Miguel booty more often. Enjoy!

Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next Kinktober '24 Masterlist

“He’s at it again.”

Jess says to you when you two stand in front of his lab. You can already hear stuff being thrown around, the angry growls of your husband resonating across the room.

“Uh, what happened this time?”

“We didn’t meet our quota of anomalies this quarter. I told Miguel it's stupid that we're tracking how many anomalies we grab, but he wants to make sure we're efficient.”

Another crash is heard, paired with an exhausted growl.

“Are we…not efficient?”

“We were off by one.” You can see how that would upset Miguel. He’s always particular, wanting to make sure things go the way he expects them to. “Time for you to go play ‘wife’!”

Jess waves you away when you disappear into the darkness of his lab. The throwing noises stops to your relief. All you saw is your husband fuming, arms folded with prominent frown lines across his forehead. He’s still cute when he’s angry.

“So…we’re only one off.”

Miguel throws his hands up, “I thought we were on track this quarter! Somebody screwed up and missed one or maybe didn't file a report or-”

The platform moves from a button press on your watch. You step up to take his hand, squeezing it.

“It's okay. We have another quarter.”

“Even if we make next quarter's goal, we'll still be off.”

Miguel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest. His chin resting on the top of your head. At least he wasn't throwing things now.

“You know what I can do to help?” He hums, waiting for you to continue. “You haven't gotten that special thing in a while…”

“What special thing-oh.”

You know Miguel is getting flushed at your unexpected offer. You aren't sure why he gets embarrassed since he likes it so much.

“Can we do that tonight?”

“Yes, we can.” While parting you place your thumb and index finger on his cheeks, squeezing it a bit before giving his lips a quick peck.

Later that night, you pull out your tools, lying them on the bed as if you are about to do a medical procedure. Miguel’s naked self lying on the sheets, crimson eyes watching your every move. His cock standing hard and proud for you.

You hold up the red dildo shining bright in the bedroom light. You effortlessly put the strap on, as if you've done this hundreds of times. Before, you felt silly with it dangling in front of you. Now, you can definitely see the appeal.

“What does my baby prefer?” You climb on the bed, making the bed dip. “Missionary or doggy?”

“Missionary…”

Your eyes flicker with intrigue. Miguel hardly asks for missionary. That one anomaly off must've really affected him.

“I get to see your handsome face while I fuck you.” You stroke his cheek and he leans into it, desperation filling his eyes.

To make sure he's ready, you pour some lube on your finger.

Miguel gasps when you insert a digit in his hole, feeling how tight it is around you.

“Relax for me.” You lean forward, the fake cock brushing against his. Miguel’s tense muscles start to relax from your touch. How you're pumping in and out of him, not having much resistance.

“Good. Good job.”

Cum leaks from his tip and you reward him by sucking it off. Licking your lips while humming at the taste. Miguel whimpers while you keep fingering him, eyes lowered. You think he's ready enough so you add a second finger. He shifts at the sensation.

“How does that feel, Miggy?”

Miguel struggles to say anything coherent, “G-Good. Really good…”

It's been a while since you've fucked him. By the way his cock twitched, you know once you slide into him, he's practically gone. But this is to make your man feel better.

“I think you're ready…”

You pull out your fingers then get in between his legs. Miguel’s relieved expression made your core burn up. How submissive he is in this moment, you wanted to take a picture. You line yourself up with him. Your eyes on your husband’s face when you push inside him.

The way his eyes flutter, mouth agape, made your cunt squeeze. His groan much deserved while he grips the pillows. You ignore the tears, knowing you have a bunch of pillows on standby.

“O-Oh, oh s-shock…”

More cum trails down his shaft as he's taking your fake cock in perfectly. His eyes closed tight, chest heaving to not orgasm right now.

“You should look at me…” You put your hips back, causing a long, drawn out moan from him. “Don’t you wanna see how good I'm fucking you?”

Miguel’s eyes open, enough to see you slowly thrust into him. The red dildo disappearing inside him with ease. Your breasts moving in tandem with your movements.

“It's…it's too much.” Miguel moves, but he doesn't go anywhere. You hit a spot along his prostate that causes him to choke. You're starting to see stuffing in your line of vision.

“You know what the safe word is.”

You give a sharp thrust and his eyes roll back. Miguel’s abdomen clenching, sweat clinging on to his skin. He's so pretty when he's not in control. You lean down to kiss him. At the same time, your thrusts pick up speed, your thighs hitting the back of his own. His groans fill your mouth. Your tongue rubbing against his in an opposite pace of your thrusts.

Your stomach starts getting sticky from his leaking tip. You're continuing to pound into his walls, bumping against that nice little spot. Over and over and over again. Miguel starts gasping in your mouth, cotton all around, sticking to his skin and yours.

“I'm…I'm!”

A silent cry to escapes your husband. White, sticky cum covering his abs and your stomach. You don't stop your thrusts, wondering what it feels like having him squeeze around the toy. Miguel cums so much it trails down and stain the sheets.

For a moment, Miguel doesn't move. Your heartbeat picking up in worry. His eyes flicker and you sigh of relief. You pull out, him giving one last whimper.

After removing the strap, you get a piece of cotton away from his forehead, cupping his face.

“You okay?” You see him barely nod, mustering up the strength for a small smile. You give him a kiss before starting the routine of getting rid of your torn pillows.

Tags:

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[dark-garfield-is-hot]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 ‘𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰.

˜”*°•. ིྀ ˜”*°•. ✿ ིྀ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ིྀ ✿ •°*”˜ ིྀ .•°*”˜

miguel o’hara x f!reader.

✩ | 𝐜𝐰: 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, 18+, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧��, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜��𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. (𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥’𝐬!)

𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐢𝐜!! 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. ❣️

𝐰𝐜: 3.8𝐤

˜”*°•. ིྀ ˜”*°•. ✿ ིྀ mdni. ིྀ ✿ •°*”˜ ིྀ .•°*”˜

————————————————————————

the weight of the grocery bags hustled on your arms, your hand struggling to balance the heavy burden of the cheap paper bags that could rip in any second.

as you finally manage to balance them both with your palm, your free hand scrambled for the condo key in your pocket, pulling it out, the familiar noises of keychains and metal clacking together.

stabbing the key in the hole of the lock, twisting it anxiously and basically barging inside the place.

you push the door shut from behind with your foot, carefully placing the bags on the counter, before you heard a light hum emanating from behind, a familiar one.

curious, you’d turn your head around, glancing at the figure of his broad shoulders, accompanied with his curly hair.

miguel was home, you didn’t even know.

you’d take a few steps towards him, neglecting your groceries, placing the key on the table.

your hands rested on the headboard of the sofa, leaning above and glancing at him.

sitting down with a booklet in his large hands.

he’d look up at you, his medium square panels of glass gazing at you.

he was wearing those stupid and nerdy glasses again.

…along with that goddamn black shirt.

those sweatpants…-

“... ¿estás bien?”

he’d scoff gently, his his torso lightly shifting to gaze at you properly.

you swallowed a sigh, nodding.

“yeah.”

“…just didn’t expect you here.”

your voice was low, taking short strides towards the sofa, sitting next to him, the sofa lightly shifting under your weight, back leaned against it, head tilting upwards in exhaustion, sighing deeply.

you’d stay in complete silence for a few moments, your eyes shifting towards miguel, his outfit, specifically, before looking back up at the ceiling.

“what are you reading?”

a soft voice of yours would then break the silence, hands tapping against the edge of the sofa.

“…your taxes.”

“what?”

he’d flip a page, your head tilting to look at him directly.

his eyebrows were furrowed, narrowed pair of stressed eyes, it looked almost intimidating to see, but you were used to it.

he’d look up at your face, biting the inner cheek of his mouth.

“you told me you didn’t know how to do them, no?”

his head would tilt, your shoulders shrugging.

“that was a while ago, i got the hang of it now.”

“without my help?”

he would respond with a light tinge of disbelief, his lips lightly curving upwards.

“what, i can’t do things without you now?”

your eyebrows would lightly pop, arms folding against your chest.

“i never said that.”

his crimson eyes fell down to the placement of your forearms, attached to your chest, before blinking away the sight, back to the numbers on the paper.

“…but you know, there is some things you can’t do without me.”

your eyes squinted at his words, leaning towards him, your hand resting on top of the stack of papers, pulling it down to gain his eye contact.

“oh, really? like what?”

he’d give you a look, sighing and and tossing the papers carelessly on the coffee stand, staring at you now.

“i think you know.”

you’d give him a light grunt, sitting in front of him now.

“i don’t, so tell me.”

curls of dark hair would fall at the tilting of his head, all he’d give was a soft smile, speaking in a light whisper.

“…well, i mean, i helped you last night, no? you wouldn’t be satisfied without me.”

a light click of a tongue was heard from you, looking away in light embarrassment.

“that’s a whole different thing, migs.”

“why would you even bring that up?”

your forearms would fall off your chest, dainty hands resting on your knees.

“no it’s not.”

he’d reply with a snarky tone, choosing to ignore your second sentence, leaning close towards you.

“last time i checked-“

you’d immediately interrupt him with a light flick to his forehead, his chuckle vibrating the room, feeling his large hand resting on your thigh.

“i will not be letting you finish that sentence.”

you’d groan, feeling the soft skin of his hand place on your thigh.

“relax, amor, it’s a joke.”

he’d lightly wince at the flick you’d deliver towards his forehead, his hand patting your thigh, and leaving its touch.

“but i’m not wrong.”

he was right, but that was still a totally different subject.

maybe he was just a little stubborn to admit that.

“really?”

“i don’t seem to clearly remember what happened last night, so i can’t have a say.”

you lied.

you wanted to see where this was gonna go, how far he would go.

“oh, sí?”

his voice went down a notch, eyebrows rising.

“mhm.”

“but you could always refresh my memory.”

your tone was low, giving him a suggestive smile.

“i see,”

he’d give you a look, a familiar one.

“my pretty girl’s a little forgetful today, huh?”

you’d hum, speaking up.

“maybe.”

“what’re you gonna do about it?

his fingers pinched your chin, rubbing your soft skin with the pad of his thumb.

“i’ll jog your memory, that’s what i’ll do.”

before he could initiate anything, your hand would grasp on his wrist, puling the grip off of your chin.

“…or, you can just continue to do my taxes.”

he’d click his tongue, a small hum of disappointment leaving his lips.

“but i thought you already knew how to do them..”

his hand fell on your thigh, rubbing on it.

“doesn’t mean i willingly want to.”

“you can’t just tease me like that.”

his tone was a light whine, his tired glare boring into your eyes.

“i just did.”

you’d retort back, his hand tightening against your thigh, feeling his fingers lightly dig into the skin.

“i’ll do your taxes for the next time, just, lemme have this, cmon..”

well that was surprising.

usually you’d be the one whining lightly to miguel, doing things for him in order to sooth that little ache of want and desire in your body, although it wasn’t new at all to you, he’d barely do that.

“then you’ll do the other ones later as well.”

“hun, you know i’m a busy guy.”

“you want me or not?”

“cariño…”

you gave a raise of your eyebrows as an reply, your nails tapping on the fabric of your knees.

“..fine.”

“there you go.”

your tone was soft, his hands grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you in, lips pressing against each other.

you couldn’t even get a chance to process the act, your hands instinctively grabbing the material of the sofa, leaning in closer towards his presence.

your lips reciprocated his act, the tip of his tongue lightly dragging against yours, a light moan emanating in the back of your throat.

he’d hiss in reply, parting his lips away from yours, as you’d inhale a sharp breath, and string of saliva between you both.

“i missed you.”

he’d whine in your parted lips, your hands digging in the fabric of the sofa.

“let me have you, por favor.”

you couldn’t resist that whiney tone of his, your arms hooking between his neck.

“you want me?”

“mhm.”

“that much?”

“sí.”

your hands interlocked with each other behind his neck, against his lips once again, your tongue now seeping in between the gap of his own lips.

a quiet groan left his mouth, your body leaning on top of his, until you both fell on the sofa, his hands grasping onto your hips for the sake of your own composure, eyes fluttering shut.

hips stacked on hips, your back lightly arching to match his height, soft yet dainty hands resting on his chest, as you’d both continue to exchange kisses throughout.

“mmh..”

you tasted a light hint of mint in his mouth, one of his hands traversing to the back of your head, pushing it down with some pressure.

before grabbing your hair and parting away from you.

“you’re so pretty..”

he’d sigh, brushing a few strands of hair away from your forehead, settling himself as you’d lay your legs between his.

you’d hum contentedly, the compliment stirring something inside your stomach, a shivering yet warm feeling.

you took the time to swallow his attire, his black shirt doing nothing but highlighting his muscles immensely.

“my pretty girl.”

“stop that.”

“why? it’s true.”

your eyes would lightly roll, feeling his hand on your hip leave, before he’d speak up again.

“stay still.”

his hand went towards the buttons of your jeans, popping one of them open.

a sudden burst of want rushed inside you, your eyes gleaming at the sight of his focused face.

“i was thinking about you all day, hermosa, did you know that?”

he’d sigh, his lightly parted to speak once again.

“couldn’t even focus on your goddamn papers. all i thought of was you.”

all you did was giggle, your lips pressing together in shyness.

“you’re just too good.”

he’d immediately remark, his fingers pinching against the metallic zipper, lightly pulling it down.

you’d suggestively look down at him, eyes lightly squinting at his words, lifting your hips a little, letting him slide your jeans off, the uncomfortable feeling wrapped around your waist slightly fading away.

his eyes would reflect within the panels of his glasses, your finger pressing on the small bridge between them, letting him see clearer.

your thighs were now exposed to the cold breeze, kicking back the jean fabric behind you, sighing lightly at his gaze.

before you’d feel a source of heat against your panties, this fingers lightly rubbing against the lace, a grunt leaving your lips, watching him speak.

“gotta get you all easy f’me.”

“ah..-”

you’d whine, your back arching from the light spark of pleasure, before he’d immediately muffle your moans, pulling you in for another kiss.

which was way more sloppier, light grunts of frustration in both of your mouths, his fingers rubbing lightly against you, before he parted away with his lips and digits, a small hum of disappointment spewing off of you.

his free hand grabbed your hips lightly, shifting them against the fabric of his pants, the friction subtle yet shocking, your face collapsing onto the crook of his shoulder.

“miguel…”

you’d sigh instinctively, your hands grasping on his broad back, lightly scratching it, his breath fanning against your ear, grunts of pleasure leaving his lips.

his hands would guide your hips to rub against that light bulge arising in his pants, small huffs of pleasure leaving both of your lips desperately, one of your hands reading up and loosening the strands of his sweats.

tugging the waistband down, his boxers now lightly exposed enough to reveal his growing ache, his hands grasping on the plush of your thighs as the tip of your fingers would lightly rub against the hardening lump, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“…this hard already?”

you’d snicker; tilting your head up to gaze at him, a sharp inhale leaving his throat, a spike of horniness rising up in between your thighs.

“you can’t- mmh, blame me, look at you.”

your hips replaced the touch of your fingers, grinding against him slowly, you’d hear a light slur of spanish from his lips, yet he was incoherent.

your head would lightly tilt back in pleasure, moaning. hands squeezing against the thin material of his shirt covering his broad shoulders, his eyes falling at the sight of your body moving against his.

“keep going, cmon, mierda…”

the hard feel of his bulge rubbing up against your sweet and aching clit, the friction sparking waves of pleasure within every push, as his hips would instinctively buck up into yours, gaining another whine from you.

your forearms balanced themselves beside his head, face to face with your significant other, leaning in for a soft peck on his lips.

“mmh…”

his hands grasped against your midriff, feeling the plush of you beneath his fingers, his adam apple bobbing within every groan he could muster, your chest now lying against his own.

your lips would take the opportunity to kiss around his neck, sucking and biting gently at the skin, whilst his hands would control every thrust you’d deliver towards his hips, starting to grind into a circular motion.

a soft breath of yours would fan against his tanned skin, his pelvis right up against you, feeling his hips shift underneath.

“dios, so good, you’re too good.”

he’d groan, locks of curls falling onto the sofa as he’d tilt his head back fully, missing the touch of your lips against his skin already, his fingers drumming against your hips.

“…’m barely doing any-“

your sentence was interrupted with a light whine, feeling the warmth of his friction rubbing against your puffy clit, your hands tightening against his shirt.

“i’m sensitive..- it’s in my genes.”

and he wasn’t wrong, he did have some random code of a DNA that included some sort of spider in that manly body of his.

he’d groan loudly, the noise audible in your ears, finding it almost hypnotizing how he’d barely do anything, yet you loved every single subtle act he’d do.

your thighs were trembling at the difficulty of getting those precious spots of ache cured, breathless grunts leaving your lips, your finish edging close.

just a few more, just a few more pushes..

“i’m so close-“

lifting your head up away from the curved outline of his neck and shoulder, your vision was completely stuck towards the way his chest would lightly move within every sway of your hips moving against his.

you’d gasp, a few more shifts of your hips finally blazing towards your orgasm, a moan spewing off of the back of your throat in pure pleasure.

your body entire collapsed on his, the arch of your back loosening, as your face fell in the same place as before, a small puddle of arousal seeping between your thighs, a damp spot against his boxers.

“there you go…”

he’d sigh, his muscular forearm falling to rest on his forehead, gazing down at your breathless body, before tilting his head to the side of your hair, lightly snuggling onto it and leaving a light kiss in its strands.

“…that’s, that’s it?”

you’d muster, tilting your head to look at his, both of your noses bumping into each other.

“hm?”

“you- mh, didn’t come.”

“i just wanted to get you all prepped up.”

“seems like i did a good job.”

he’d admit with a lightly proud tone, you would scoff immediately at his response, your bare thighs rubbing together.

“you always do.”

your hips remained on his, breathing still labored from the expected bang of pleasure in your body.

before one of his spoken sentences hit you.

“…prepped?”

“uh-huh.”

his voice was a soft rasp, smiling gently at your lightly exhausted face, before his hand grasped onto your waist, his other hand gliding behind your head, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

it was more lighter, softer, his head tilting to position his lips in an angle towards yours. copying the action in an instant, your hands cupping the sides of his neck, thumbs rubbing against his cheekbones.

he’d gently settle your body on the sofa, his own body hovering over yours without breaking the kiss, his hands now between your head, chest to chest.

he’d pull away with a light breath, his large hand cupping your jaw and tilting your head to look up at him, giving you a light smile.

“te amo.”

you’d huff with a flutter of your eyes in advance, speaking up.

“i love you too.”

you’d pull his head in for a deeper kiss, you hand strolling down towards his torso, feeling his hard abs beneath your touch.

his other hand gliding down to your panties, pulling the damp area of the crotch to the side, rubbing his clothed bulge lightly against your moist yet bare folds.

you’d sharply hiss, the feeling of his hardness rubbing against you almost bare a rapturous sensation, lips aggressively pressing against his.

your head would pull away, tightening your thighs together to prevent any further movement if he was leading to something bigger, his eyebrows lightly raising in surprise.

“…something wrong?”

strands of hair would sway while your head shook in disagreement, looking to the side for a second.

“no protection..?”

your face shown a light hint of worry, pupils shifting at the sight of his face.

“you’ll be okay.”

“you don’t know that.”

he’d bite the inside of his mouth, shifting his hips against you a little more as you’d grunt, a light whine leaving your lips as you heard him speak.

“are you sure?”

the gleam reflecting in his crimson pupils was never left unnoticed when you spoke like that.

“i know, lo siento, i thought you were on the pill.”

he’d sigh, knowing damn well you currently weren’t taking any plan b.

“but, please, mi niña, por favor.”

a rough scoff left your lips.

“be gentle.”

“yes, sí, i’ll be as soft as i can.”

his eyes scanned your features, his shirt lightly moving within each breath he’d take, one of his hands reaching towards the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down.

his hand positioned his hardness into your folds, seeping into the warmth, his brownish tip ejecting some pre cum, mixing itself with the liquid of your previous orgasm.

you’d gaze down, watching as his aching length would rub against your sensitive clit, your head lightly throwing back.

“migs- ah.”

a light hum of whines left your lips, the familiar feel of him rubbing against you only made your ecstasy worse, accompanied by his breathless groans.

his eyebrows would raise ever so gently as a signal for him to go in, your head subtly nodding.

he’d push his hips lightly, feeling his girth stretch your skin, a ragged moan instinctively leaving your throat, your dainty hands lightly clawing on his back.

“fuck, fuck-“

“that’s it…”

he’d groan, his muscular forearms supporting the thrusts he would then push inside of you, your head tilting back in the euphoric feeling of his aching length enveloping itself into your gummy walls.

your dainty hands clenching on the fabric of his thin shirt, arms hanging over his slanted shoulders. his vermillion pupils of light and desire boring into your eyes, grunts of pleasure spewing off of your lips.

he’d groan in a light blur of spanish within each push of his hips he’d gently deliver, his position managing to hit every single ache of your body, making your head tilt back from the feel.

the sounds of sex filled the air, wet skin on skin hitting against each other, whines of ecstasy driving off of your mouth.

“miggy… migs- m..-“

you’d groan, his large hand cupping your chin and letting his lips seep into yours, a light grunt of air leaving his throat as he’d continue to push inside you.

“por dios..”

he’d murmur against the soft plush of your lips, one of his thrusts managing to hit that sweet spot of yours, a breathless moan heard from you after.

he would continue pressing himself deep and slow into you, his head tilting and kissing around your ear, murmuring those light words of love.

his happy trail would tickle against your skin, his length coated with the liquids of your arousal, taking him deep into your cervix, cries of pleasure and slurred words all mixed together, like you were both in sync.

your mind almost melting at the feel of his tip stroking softly at the deepest place of yours, waves of stimulation showering both of you immensely.

“…god..”

“migueeell..”

one of your arms would collapse off around of his neck, hand resting beside your head, his own, large digits coming up and interlocking themselves within yours, feeling the soft skin of you on his.

“…’m close, corazón, mmh.”

he’d whisper gently in your ear, sparks of pleasure lighting up throughout your lower half, falling into a realm of intoxication within every push he’d bless your body with.

his lips gliding down and pressing softly into the contour of your jaw, your fingers tensing against the back of his hand, almost reaching your final push for your orgasm.

his girth of hardness now pressed up into your sweet ache this time, a cry of a whine spewing off of your lips, hand clenching against his.

he’d grumble at the feel, his own length twitching inside of you, his curved tip rubbing up inside your sweet walls of velvet, relishing the soft warmth of his body inside yours.

your body would lightly clench against his hardness, feeling the tension of your cushiony enclosure, he’d groan loudly, murmuring light slurs of how close he was.

“mig- ‘m there..”

before you’d cry, bursting in his thick length, your orgasm hitting its edge of pleasure once again, your hand covering your mouth, a light drop of a tear hanging on the corner of your eyelid.

“good girl, good- shit..-“

he’d sharply inhale, feeling the wave of your liquids dribbling out as he’d pump back his hips, coming inside of your body.

you’d feel his fluids seep inside you deep, moans of pleasure and exhaustion filling up the room. the sofa now stained from the mess you both made.

he’d gently pull his hips out of your body, a light popping noise emanating from it.

he’d collapse on you, sighing roughly in your ear, hands tensing on your thighs, the aftershock of your orgasm leaving you breathless.

a few moments later of silence, his now lightly soft length resting on in between your legs; thought you didn’t care much, still wanting the feeling of him near you, even after all of this.

“you did so good, god, god i love you.”

he’d murmur gently, kissing your ear and rubbing the sides of your thighs.

you would continue whining from the light overstimulation your body experienced, though- at least it was over,

your arms wrapped around his back, head still tilting back a bit.

the sounds of grunts and sighs was only heard, your hand starting to gently scratch against his hair, feeling the soft locks of curls in between your fingers.

“miggy.”

you’d mumble, wanting his attention, his head tilting up at you.

“yeah, i know.”

“i think i made you a mami, hermosa, just now.”

tilting your head and looking down at his face, your eyes scanning the crimson hues of his exhausted pupils.

“maybe.”

your word made his heart skip a beat, his face slightly warming at your feel.

“we gonna brainstorm some names now?”

you’d sigh, digits twirling in his curls.

“please dont get so ahead of yourself.”

he’d scoff in advance, his plump lips pressing against your nose for a light moment, before he’d start resting his forehead up against yours, giving you a soft look.

“let’s get you a towel.”

“and i’ll deal with your taxes afterwards.”

thanks for readin. 💖

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Secrets Of The Duke Vampire Miguel O'Hara PT 3

Summary: During a chance encounter with the Duke of Nueva York, you discover he’s a Vampire when his compulsion doesn’t work on you. What happens when he holds you captive in hopes of keeping his century-old secret.....a secret?

Tags: Beauty and the Beast retelling, Vampire Miguel, arranged marriage, set in the 1800s(hence why he's a Duke), another ff where's he's mean in the beginning, he's still an a-hole here(sorry not sorry), Jealous Miguel, 6.2k words

A/N: Still busy as always but I'll manage. Enjoy<333

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

•°~°•

You're not quite sure how the ground below you has gotten so soft but you're grateful for it. You move around just a little but the more you move the more you realize you're no longer on the floor. Forcing yourself to wake you try to make out your surroundings but the room is still blacked out with only the fire giving you very little light. As you feel around you're sure you're in a bed but how did you get there?

Maybe you shouldn't have come in here who knows whose room this is? Quietly you make sure to grab your duvet and slip out of the room. After freshening up you head downstairs for breakfast only to find the dining hall lowly lit. The curtains are closed so there's no morning light illuminating the room.

“Oh, my lady come let me help you to your seat”

“Lyla, what's going on?”

“The Duke will be joining you for breakfast today isn't it exciting” You let out a huff and turn on your heels. “I will not be eating with that man Lyla” She pulls you in closer redirecting you to the dining hall.

“Just give it a try you are officially the new Lady of the house it is custom that you eat with the lord who is now your husband might I add”

“Lyla no no no he forced my hand I didn't want any of this” 

She ushers you to sit down in a chair. “Just please my lady I even put you both on opposite ends of the table so you won't be forced into a conversation” You let out an appreciative smile. “Just one breakfast?”

“Uh, yes……and then lunch and dinner.” She grabs your hands, holding onto them tenderly and giving you a little squeeze. “My lady, you may be able to break the curse; please just try for us.” You're about to speak when you hear someone entering the room. When Lyla bows, it doesn't take a wild guess to figure out who it is. As Lyla departs, the Duke comes into view and takes the seat across from you at the opposite end of the table.

The silence is palpable. Granted you both have nothing to speak about but sitting through this with only the sounds of your cutlery scraping the plates is maddening. Now that you think of it if he's a monster wouldn't he only need blood to sustain himself? Quickly you steal a glance at him to see what he could be eating only for him to already be staring at you. You nearly flinch when your eyes meet.

 You use a napkin to wipe nonexistent crumbs from your face. “Gods be, do you really have to frighten me?”

“I have done no such thing I'm simply just sitting here”

“Well…you scared me”

He shrugs. “Good to know” 

……….

You can't take it anymore you must know. “Does food sustain you?” You point to his plate of picked at food.

A beat passes before he speaks. For a second, you weren't quite sure if he would respond. “No, it doesn't I have no taste now…. it's been that way since I was turned”

“Oh, so you weren't born this way? Does this have to do with a curse?” He looks taken aback. Crap, you forgot he's not supposed to know that you know about it. “Lyla that woman-”

“No please don't be mad at her I've been coaxing information out of her for a while so she caved don't punish her for anything” He stares at you for a moment before turning away. “Well yes, it has to do with the curse. I was cursed by a witch and I have 100 years to break the curse and if not then me and everyone are stuck here forever” Dread fills your bones as you let his words sink in. You couldn't even imagine being forced to be a monster for 100 years but being stuck in that way forever..? You'd probably go insane.

“Lyla said that there's a way for me to break the curse just tell me what you need to-” Abruptly he stands his chair scraping against the floor. He downs whatever dark liquid in his wine goblet(you really don't want to know what it is) and begins to walk—more like stomp away. What's his problem?

Quickly you follow behind him. “What's the matter is it something I said? If there's a way to break the curse let me know and I'll do it”

He waves his hands in dismissal by his ear as if saying he can't bear to listen to you any longer. “Just stop talking”

“Excuse me, I'm offering my help. Do I need to help you look for something? Do I need to give you-”

 His feet come to a halt and his voice rises. “For goodness sake just stop you can't help me Lyla didn't know what she was talking about so ignore her and ignore me”

You take a step back in disbelief all you're doing is trying to help him and the people of his estate if anyone deserves to be free it's them and you'll do whatever you can to help them. It's just so unfortunate that their fate is tied to his.“I'm simply just trying to help you you're nothing but a big ball of negativity. I hope you rot in this mansion for the rest of your days” You make your way out of the dining hall and to your room on your way there you run into Lyla.

She places a gentle hand on your arm. “My lady, what happened?”

“I tried Lyla I really did but I don't think I could help break the curse. Your Duke is impossible” And with that, you retire to your room.

•°~°•

That night you do the same as yesterday you sneak into the room with the lit fire deciding to rest on the floor but somehow when you wake you're in a bed. This goes on for the rest of the week before you finally muster up the courage to say something to Lyla it's after lunchtime when you ask her.

“Lyla um….do you happen to know whose room is opposite to mine?”

“My lady, what are you asking me? Have you—you've been in that room?”

Jess chimes in as she brings in a bowl of fruits. “It's best if you don't go in that room”

“Well, it's a little too late for that I've been sleeping in that room for over a week-” 

“Oh my that's the,-” Lyla speaks but Jess cuts her off with an elbow to her stomach. You give them both a once over but they both encourage you to continue. “But something strange happens whenever I wake up. I always reappear in the bed in that room. I don’t know why that happens given I don’t remember walking there” Both Lyla and Jess share a look before speaking.

“This is progress yes yes this is good”

“This is good indeed” Jess chimes in.

“Must you have a conversation as if I’m not here? And what are you talking about what's good progress I don’t understand”

“You need not concern yourself with this my lady everything is fine” You turn to Lyla because you’re sure she’ll tell you the truth. It’s like you can see the wheels turning in her head. She's contemplating if she should tell you whatever it is that they're hiding from you.

 “Lyla don’t do it”

“I know Jess it’s just-”

 “Lyla, what's going on? Whose room is that?” She waves her hands in dismissal before speaking. “It’s just the servant's room he goes by the name of Peter You've seen him yes?” You slowly nod as you think it over. You've only seen him a handful of times and he’s always with the Duke. “So he’s the one who has been carrying me to the bed each night?”

“Yes, my lady” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thank the sky above it’s him I would’ve hated it if it was the Duke”  You pick up a few grapes before changing into more casual attire. There's no need to wear a lovely dress while you're gardening. 

As you exit the room with your basket of tools you're surprised when you run into the Duke and Peter. You can feel yourself smile as you get closer. You must at least acknowledge him if he's the one bringing you into the bed each evening. It's very unexpected you only see him the same amount of times you see the Duke and that's only 3 times for the day. You don’t even interact with the man but you suppose that will all change.

“Good afternoon Peter” He looks surprised that you're even speaking to him. You make sure to keep your attention only to him, completely ignoring the Duke in front of him. 

He bows. “Oh, good afternoon my lady. Are you going to the gardens?”

“Yes, I am. I'm very determined that with constant care we will see life in there once more”

He turns to look through a nearby window. “I don't know it's been far too long since we've seen life there. I would hate to have your hard work go down the drain. But it's amazing what you're doing. I've never seen a woman so passionate about-” 

The Duke clears his throat drawing both the attention of you and Peter. “We don't have all day Peter let's not engage in useless conversation” When he glances your way you can't help but roll your eyes. Quickly you turn on your heels. “Have a good day Peter” 

“You too my–”

“Peter let's go”

•°~°•

Now why in the world are you talking to Peter? And then you smiled at Peter and yet ignored him. He's the Duke of the estate. You need to go back and retake manners classes.

Miguel stops walking and speaks to Peter without facing him. “Why does she speak to you with a smile?”

“I don't know my Lord. This is the first time I’ve spoken to her” He lets out a huff, not the answer he was looking for so he continues walking. 

……………….

But he then stops as he thinks things over. “I need her to break the curse”

“Yes my Lord”

This time he turns to face Peter. “And she is my wife”

“Yes I'm very aware my lord”

•°~°•

You've been tending to the gardens for the past 4 hours with nothing but the chirping of the birds to keep you company. Pulling out what seems to be hundreds of weeds and changing the soil does take a lot as a one-woman job. Deciding that it's time you take a break you get up dusting off as much dirt as you can before you begin to walk around. It's unfortunate to say but you've been here for over a month and you haven't really explored the outside of the estate. You've always kept to your room reading the dictionary since there are no books here to read. 

As you walk further away from the gardens you come across a stable. There are only two horses there.  Heistaintly you reach out to pet one and to your surprise it allows you to do so. “Well, aren't you a cutie?”

“The other horses unfortunately didn't make it they are the only 2 left” You let out a gasp as you turn to the voice behind you. “My goodness Lyla, how are you so quiet? I didn't hear you coming” 

“Perks of the curse I guess” You nod suddenly filled with regret that you said that in the first place. “Did the others die because of the curse?”

“Yes and no they were old already when the curse fell upon the estate so even as time slowed they eventually passed away”

“Lyla the curse how did it-”

“Oh no you mustn't concern yourself with such things actually the horses are due for a bath would you care to help?” You nod not wanting to push her any further than necessary. As you help her with the horses you can help but feel like someone's watching you. Deciding to look around to your surprise you see a person in one of the rooms move away from the window. The curtains are now drawing close.

•°~°•

After bathing the horses you get ready for dinner arriving a few minutes late as much as you dislike having to ask the Duke for anything you might have to tell Lyla that you'll need thicker dresses. You're wearing a rather beautiful dress. It's black with long sleeves with crystals going down the front of the corset. The dress is…however rather cut low if the estate was filled with other Dukes, Barons, and Baroness this would've been a scandal. But there's no one here so this should be fine right..?

Quickly you make your way down heading straight for the dining hall. When you reach the Duke, his face is plagued with annoyance and you roll your eyes the second you see him. 

You've been doing that so much since you've been here so it seems.

“I know I'm late but must you give me that face?”

“You're late every evening excluding mornings and afternoons it's getting tiring”

You take a seat picking up your salad fork. “Well, have you ever thought that I don't want to have dinner with you? It's already unfortunate that I have to eat the first two meals with you. I hate to break it to you but I do not want to end my evenings seeing your face” Maybe your words are harsh but who cares he's the one who's holding you here against your will and to top it all off he’s incredibly rude and a troubled man.

“You're such a-”

You cut him off suddenly feeling rebellious. “And not to mention you don't even try to make conversation with me and I refuse to pry you for-” He returns the favor by cutting you off as well. Getting up so fast from the table his chair falls. This causes Lyla, Jess, and Peter to rush in. They all speak at the same time.

“My lady, what has happened?”

“My lord please”

“Control your temper”

“I can't control anything if she chooses to act like this” He walks away from the table heading straight for you. Everyone in the room holds their breath anticipating his next move, even you. “For someone so adamant about not seeing my face you sure love coming into my-” Jess cuts him off before he can finish. “My lord don’t do it you’ll only bring this back to square one and we are running out of time”

You glance between the two of them with sudden curiosity. What's going on? “Jess, what are you talking about?” But before she can respond the Duke turns in your direction taking multiple steps towards you till you can feel his breath on your face. “Well if you hate me so much stop sneaking into my chambers each night…wife”

Instinctively you push the chair back standing up to meet him in the eye. “What lies are you spewing now?”

“Don’t act like you don't know”

You glance at Lyla and then at him. “I really don't I—Lyla and Jess told me it was Peter's room” He steps back and laughs and dang he looks like a maniac when he does that. “Well they lied it's my room you snuck in and it's my bed you sleep in”

So it was him all along out of all the people why did it have to be him? You would've never gone in there if you knew. You want to direct all of your anger towards him but you know you can't. Lyla and Jess lied to you; they were the closest thing to a friend…and they lied. 

This time you speak to all of them looking them each in the eye but you point to him first. “Don't you ever touch me–” You turn to face Lyla and Jess. “And to you both your help will no longer be needed just leave my meals at the door”

Quickly you make your way to your room. With your emotions in a whirlwind you lean against the door suddenly the dress feels too constricting you just want to claw it off. Waiting for what feels like forever until your emotions calm down you change into something more warm since you'll be spending your nights back in your room. Instead of your nightgown, you're wearing the same dress you wore on the night everything changed because you had a shawl. 

Your mind is racing as you bask in the silence of your room. This might be the most insane thing you do but if they want to keep secrets from you then they have no problem with you uncovering some of their own. Right now you couldn't care less if you got in trouble.

Opening the door as quietly as you can, you take note that all the lights are off, the moon shining through the windows is the only thing to guide you as you tiptoe through the halls. When you finally reach the West Wing you take a quick look around and slip inside. 

As your eyes adjust to the sudden darkness the state of the room causes a gasp to leave your lips. This room is a mess. There are broken mirrors and glass shards all over the floor. Too many broken items on the floor to count. Cobwebs lie in each corner of the room and it's 10x colder in here as well. You can even see your breath in front of you

This is horrible.

 Is this what he was trying so hard for you not to see a bunch of broken things? You venture further into the room when a large painting catches your eye. You're not sure how you overlooked it directly in the middle of the room. The painting is large and takes up a whole wall. 

The bottom of the plaque reads “Princess Gabriella and her Parents”

You only see a woman and her daughter. They both have big grins on their faces and it doesn't take long to know that they love each other. Their outfits aren't of this time either you guess he wasn't lying about being stuck here for 100 years. The longer you stare you realize that there's a large gash across the face of someone else. This may be the father. You reach up to fix the gash but you only manage to see the bottom half of the face before something shiny at the far end of the room catches your eye.

You follow the light and come face to face with a glass…rose? It's beyond beautiful. Maybe this was what he was hiding? You take off the case and reach out to touch when red eyes come into your view. You take a large step back stumbling on a broken chair leg. 

He moves so fast your eyes can't keep up.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not know what you could've done?” You never heard his voice this loud before. The look on his face is murderous. With each step that he takes towards you, you take a step back. You can't even hide how scared you are.

“I-”

His nails extend to an inhumane length and he throws something large in your direction and it lands on the wall beside your head. You let out a scream that makes your throat burn.

“Why did you come here?”

“I-I”  You stutter suddenly finding it hard to formulate words.

“Get out!”

“I-I’m s-sorry just-”

 This time he doesn't respond to you he just throws another item your way baring his fangs.

Speaking to him is no use, he was right you never should've come here. Before he can throw another item you take off running, tripping on something along the way.

Hot tears sting your eyes as you race out of the West Wing. How can you be so stupid? He told you not to come in here and you didn’t listen. His exact words were if he found you in the West Wing he would kill you. Scared for your life you glance over your shoulder to see if he is following you but you can’t see or hear anything except for the loud beating of your heart pounding through your ears. You race down the stairs heading straight to the front doors. 

You see Lyla, Jess and Peter racing into the halls. Great, you really didn't want their last time seeing you to end like this.

“My lady we heard you scream-”

“I-I can't stay here anymore. I wish you all nothing but the best but….” Your words trail off as you try to get the door open. You can hear their pleas and you swear you even feel someone touch your shoulder but you don't want to hear any of it. You would die a miserable death if you stayed here.

As the doors swung open you were hit with a harsh gust of cold wind. It's so strong you have to shield your eyes, goosebumps ignite on your skin like wildfire and there's nothing you can do. You can't turn back now. The light flurries of snow obscure your vision so you pull your hood over your head darting in the direction of the stables. You reach the horses in record time and maybe it's your state of panic but you swear you see a saddle and reins emerge on the horse. It's too late to try and figure out what was that so you get on the horse dashing into the woods. 

There are rows and rows of trees and even thicker branches. Some of them get caught on your shawl and you can't help it as you scream each time it does. Despite the harsh conditions the horse continues to trek through. You let out a gasp when you hear a howl far out into the distance. Forcing the horse to slow you strain your ears to pick up on any more sounds when suddenly one howl turns into four and four turns into too many. You need to get out of here and fast. If you won't die by staying in the mansion with that horrible monster you'll definitely die by a pack of wolves and you're not sure which is worse.

No matter how fast the horse is, the pack of wolves catches up to you. They begin to attack your horse trying to bite at its legs. The horse gets spooked and you land on your back. You watch in horror as the wolves inch closer and closer you look around and grab a broken branch from off the floor rising to your feet. You feel the weight of it in your palms. This will have to do. A wolf lunges at you and you swing. You watch in horror as one of them bites down on your shawl. You tug and tug but it's no use if you're no match for a wolf. Your tears are frozen over and strands of your hair are sticking to your face. It's freezing but yet you can feel as each bead of sweat rolls down your back.

The wolf gives your shawl one hard yank and you're sent to the ground. Locking eyes with two wolves is all it takes to know that your time has come to an end. They snap their jaws at you and lunge. You have no choice but to prepare for the blow, closing your eyes with a hand covering your face. Who are you to think that you can fight off a pack of wolves?

You prepare for the blow but surprisingly it never comes but a familiar smell engulfs you. 

The smell of him.

•°~°•

He didn't mean to scare you. 

He didn't mean to throw anything at you.

………….

But he did anyway his anger got the better of him once again. He was fine knowing that you wanted nothing to do with him during your stay in his mansion. The feelings were mutual but seeing you cower in fear because of him losing his temper brought him back awful memories he wanted to forget.

The witch turned long before both his Wife and daughter died. It made him even angrier, ruthless, unforgiving and cold-hearted. Causing him to scare off the two most important people in his world. Your reaction reminded him exactly of that. Granted you aren't important to him…but he needs you to break the curse.

Quietly he goes to exit the West Wing when his ears pick on your cries from deep within the forest. Immediately he takes off running. He needs to find you.

When he finds you there on the ground inches away from a wolf sinking its teeth into you he stands in front of you grabbing the wolf by the neck before it has time to reach you. Once he's sure he has their attention he runs to the side leading all of the wolves away from you. Using his talons and his fangs to fight them off. 

A grunt escapes from his lips when a wolf manages to bite him in the neck. He yanks it off regardless of the pain. He throws the next one against a tree and then the next but he should've known this wouldn't have been easy because all 9 remaining wolves jump on him pinning him down. Before going down he glances at you to make sure you're okay. With the look on his face, he can't tell if you're scared of him or what's happening. Miguel falls face-first into the snow and with all his might he works up a growl from the depths of his stomach and rises to his feet. 

Another wolf gets him in both his arms. But he ignores the pain until he throws every single wolf against nearby trees. And then finally after what feels like forever the last remaining unhurt wolf scurries off. 

It takes a couple of seconds before the adrenaline wears off and then he feels it. The pain that erupts from each part of his body. He feels it from his feet to his neck. When was the last time he exhorted his power like this? The most he does is compulsion but this—this is too much. 

Miguel turns around to face you as the blood drips from his neck and down his body. He watches with a heavy heart as you flinch away. His hope of breaking the curse is dwindling with each ragged breath he takes.

•°~°•

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest it feels like you can barely breathe. The Duke he just—he just fought off all of the wolves and not to mention there's so much blood turning the snow crimson. He takes a step towards you and he almost stumbles and you can't help it as you flinch crawling backwards on your hands to create more room between you.

You think he's trying to say something but you watch in horror as his body falls. He lands on his knees first and then falls face-first into the snow. Your feet move before your brain has time to process everything. You lean against the horse as you try to catch your breath. After everything you're surprised the horse is still here there's no doubt that this is a sign from whoever's up above. 

This is your chance to leave everything is laid out for you; the Duke is injured and the horse is still here. A gust of cold wind tousles your hair around and causes you to shiver. You need to make your decision now you can already feel your feet going numb.

“Don't leave him, my child”

With widened eyes, you look around to find the source of the voice. But there's no one there. You swear you just heard someone or was it something? But there's nothing but the blistering storm and the shaking of the tree branches. You need to get out of this forest and as you think about your mom you know she would hate to hear that you left a man who just saved your life to die out in the woods….even if he was—is your captor. Glancing behind you realize that he's still on the floor. 

Oh gods you hope he doesn't make you regret this. Brushing your hair away from your face you pull the horse by the reins dragging it towards him. It is a struggle but you manage to get him onto the horse. The way back to the mansion seems even more daunting than ever. You hope you and him both can make it back in one piece.

•°~°•

When you arrived, chaos erupted in the mansion. All of the servants had to be running along the halls; you had never seen so many people in here before. 

They brought you both to his study. It’s nothing like what you expected it to be. It feels almost…cozy there are dark green walls with wooden bookshelves filled with books. There is only a large desk with open books scattered all over it. One burgundy couch and one matching armchair and tea table. They laid him out on the couch and you huddled up by the fireplace. It was horrible getting out of those clothes but you managed. Your curls are damp and tangled at the ends and it’s been over 10 minutes since you started wiggling your toes but you can't feel a thing. 

Ever so quietly you make your way to the Duke he hasn’t moved a muscle or said anything you aren’t even sure if he opened his eyes. You sink to your knees putting down your tea using the bowl of hot water and rag that the servants provided. You gather the rag in your hands making sure to drain out excess water. You’re hesitant to do this but the faster you get this done the better. Gently you place the rag on the wound on his arm and you begin to lightly tap it. The rag is stained red very quickly and before you can lean over to rinse it his opposite hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. When you let out a sound his eyes shoot open and land on you. His movements are robotic and unnatural. Even after near death, the things that this man does are still so unpleasant.  

But the longer you hold eye contact the more those flashing images of his rage filters your mind.

“I-I was just tending to your wounds nothing more” Abruptly he lets go of you but when you try to clean his wound again he moves his arm away. You try again but he does the same thing. Why must he act like this?

“Would it kill you to just hold still?”

He grumbles under his breath as he sits up. “You’re hurting me”

“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you would just stay still you keep moving”

“If you hadn’t run away we wouldn’t be here right now”

“Well if you hadn’t scared me there would be no reason for me to run away” You didn’t realize that your voice rose a few levels because now a few of the servants were entering the room. He lets out a huff and turns away from you. “Well next time don’t go in the west wing”

“Well, next time learn to control your temper” A few gasps come from the servants and you harshly place the rag back into the water. Why does he want to be difficult in a time like this? “Now would you stay still please?” He doesn’t look at you when he outstretches his arm, instead he looks at the fireplace behind you. The room fills with silence as you tend to his wounds on his arms. It's not much but you suppose this will do. It’s better than nothing. You think things over before opening your mouth to speak. You would have a guilty conscience if you didn’t at least acknowledge his good deed.

“I…just wanted to thank you for earlier you saved my life” Out of your peripheral you can tell that he nods. “And you saved mine” Taken aback by his words you look up at him only to lock eyes. But you quickly look away gosh you really hope holding eye contact with him doesn't become a regular reoccurrence. 

When you're done dressing his wounds to the best of your ability you can see how pale he has gotten despite his tan skin.  For a monster like him, you wonder how long it will take for him to fully recover. Shouldn't he have special…powers for this or something?

Rising to your feet you direct your attention to Lyla. “I'm done with the water. Is there any chance that I can have fresh sheets in my room preferably anything warm please thank you” They all bow before taking their leave and once again silence fills the air as the two of you are left there. There’s no reason for you to still be in here. You gave your thanks now there shouldn’t be anything left for you to say but of course, you can never just let things go.

“Do you need anything from me you still look a little pale” A beat passes before he speaks. “There’s no need for that I will manage” He glances at your neck to your face and then again. He might've said no but he’s definitely thinking about it…hard. To make it easier for him you loosen the cover around your body and bare your neck. He stands up to his full height this time.

 “Now what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Listen this is the only time I’m going to offer please just do it before the kindness in my heart for you disappears” You watch as his eyes go from brown to red and his nails elongate. “Tap or call for me if it gets too much” Unsure of what else to do you nod and his left hand cups your face looking at him this close sets your senses into overdrive. Danger is present but there's nowhere for you to run. He invades your space even further by taking another step towards you. Confusion dances across your features this is—this is too much if you knew that this was going to be so intimate you-

Thanks to the cold the pain that shoots through your body is bearable. You can’t help but screw your eyes shut now why in the world would you agree to this?

 Hell, why in the world would you offer?

You can feel as he begins to drink with his lips on your neck it almost feels like he’s placing tiny love bites. The Duke pulls you until you’re flush against him, his right arm wrapping around your torso. You have no choice but to rest your hands on his chest. As your breathing grows heavy you can feel your body growing weaker by the second you have to tell him to stop. You can’t even imagine what would happen if he took too much from you. 

You grab a fistful of his jacket. “M-my lord?” But he doesn’t budge. With the little power you have left, you reach up to tug on his hair. He leaves your neck and the arm around your torso vanishes just like that. Your eyes flutter open and you can’t help it as your limbs begin to feel like jelly causing you to fall into his arms.

“I took too much didn’t I?” His eyes search your face.

You shake your head. “No I’m just tired I will be heading to my room now” His hand lands on your waist and as much as your body would like to stay here your mind and your heart know better. There’s no need to complicate things after such a long night. You hate the way your body reacts to his hands on your skin. The only time this happened was on that night that changed everything.

“I can help you to your room?” He says it more as a question than a statement. You begin to pull away from him with slow steps as you walk toward the door but he follows close behind.  “No I’m fine Lyla will help me”

“Just let me-” You cut him off.

“Please just let me go. I've had enough interactions with you for today and I’m afraid I have reached my limit… so please”   

Getting the memo he takes a step back clasping his hands behind his back and you slip out of the room without saying anything. As the door closes you can't help but lean yourself against it.  Your breathing becomes labored and a hand over your heart is the only way to ground yourself. 

You need to get away from this room.

You need to get away from him.

You’re not sure if bringing him back was a good decision.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ day 21!! I can't believe there's only ten days left until halloween! eek! I'm so excited to write some Christmas miggy after this. too soon? wc: 1.4k ੈ✩‧₊˚

“I’m in here!” He calls out from deep in the lab. The place practically pitch black but his eyes still pick up everything in the room. His sensitive vision not dampened in the slightest. Removing a few things off his desk before you come in, hiding them in a bin under the workbench. Then going back to mixing the chemicals and compounds he’s been working on. A bright pink glowing substance in vials and pipettes. Eyes flicking up to see you walk in. 

“There you are…” You sigh, walking deeper into where he’s sitting. Seeing him there working on something new as always. “Whatcha doin?” You hum, pulling out a seat next to him and sitting down, looking over his gloved hands as he’s working. 

“Just workin’...” He says with a small smile your way. Not knowing exactly why you came in here. Sometimes you just do that. When you have a break from missions or even on your days off. Just to be near him, he thinks. Not that you consciously make the choice, you just subconsciously search for him all the time. “How did this morning go?” He asks softly, turning dials and working on whatever substance he’s making. 

“It was good… got the Vulture variant back to his dimension… no one was hurt.” You nod. Leaning your elbows on the table and watching him work. Your eyes flicking over the vials and liquids around the desk. 

“That’s good…” He hums, standing up from his seat, sneaking a kiss on your cheek before he walks over to the boxes and dials on the wall. You have no idea what he’s doing but he’s on a mission of some kind. Pumping something into something else and it bubbles up in the glass container. Sparkling pink and neon.

It’s quiet and relaxing here. Especially after the loud, fast mission you endured this morning. Just watching him work. Like nothing could disturb this moment. You sigh, basking in the quiet and calm, tapping your fingernails on the metal workbench. Before hissss!

A small splash of the bubbling liquid spurts from the canister, sprinkling on the desk and glowing. One drop hitting your hand, making you flinch. It’s not too hot actually. The boiling point must be pretty low, but it tingles. Miguel’s eyes blow wide, turning to you once he hears you gasp. 

“Shit- come here” He rushes over, clearly it’s serious. Holding onto your arms and ushering you over to the sink. Shoving your hands under the water and the cold liquid chills your fingers. His chest pressed to your back, dunking your hands under the water, holding your smaller hands in his bigger ones and rubbing his thumbs over the backs. 

“Sorry- I should’ve had you put gloves on if you were gonna be in here” He sighs, shaking his head. Squeezing your hands gently and checking the backs to see if there’s a welt or burn. But there’s nothing. That makes it worse actually though. 

“It doesn’t hurt… what was that?” You ask, stepping back and letting him squeeze your hands in a towel to dry them. His eyes are constantly looking down at your skin, checking the backs of your hands, the fronts. He doesn’t answer your question though. 

“Uh h-how do you feel?” He looks up at you. Looking in your eyes. Almost like he’s charting down your every move in a log in his mind. “I feel fine…” 

He discards the towel, holding your arms gently and looking up and down them, running his thumbs over the joints of your elbows. Looking at the veins in your arms. Specifically the arm where your hand got splashed. “Shit.” He huffs, his eyes catching the faint pink vein marks on your arms as whatever that was creeps up your arm, getting into your system. 

“What? What is it?” You ask again. Not liking that he’s not answering. 

“Here just sit down, you’re gonna be okay, baby…” He says. Holding your arm gently and leading you over to where you were sitting before. And he turns off all the equipment he was using. The bubbling stops, the pressure gauges going back to zero. “It’s not gonna hurt you…” He says, trying to calm you down. Cursing himself for being careless and letting this happen. He taps on his watch, the doors of the lab closing and locking. Adding to your unease.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, a sheepish look on his face. Sitting down in front of you and holding your hands. Your eyes narrow at him. Not answering this time. “What’s gonna happen to me?” You glare at him. 

“You just- um… here.” He sighs, letting go of your hands, messing with the small vial of pink solution. Pipetting a few drops out and dropping one on the back of his hand too. A little fizzle follows as the solution immediately absorbs into his skin just like it did on you. “Miguel!” You exclaim, eyes widening. 

“It’s okay… I suppose now is a good time to test it anyway…” 

“Test what?”

“Your Christmas present… birthday present, I don’t know… I made it for you. It was supposed to be a surprise so… surprise?” He says, grabbing your hands again. That guilty look on his face again. Looking at you through his big lenses and hoping you don’t get angry. 

His eyes seem to pierce into you. Like straight heat. Or maybe you’re just noticing how hot you’ve become. Like your spidersuit is made of fire clinging to your skin. Your face feels flushed and warm. Adjusting yourself on the lab stool and gasping, your clit buzzing like it’s awoken when it rubs over the edge of the metal. So bad that you feel the need to pull your thighs together, wincing at the shock of pleasure. But it’s not enough. Looking up at him now. Knowing exactly what he’s done. An aphrodisiac of sorts? Your horny little geek. 

…

“Ma-ahhHHnghhh!!” You scream, your moans echoing off the lab walls, back arching off the table and climaxing for what must be the tenth time. Miguel panting and groaning over you, pumping into you with all his strength. Coming so hard he’s seeing stars, seeing white, talons threatening to pierce your flushed hot skin. It’s been hours now. Who knew all this could come from one drop of the stuff? But it’s like there’s a waterfall between your legs, as if his cock just vibrates inside you, like every stroke makes you come. 

And he’s so sensitive. Every time he’s sheathed inside you, he just wants to burst. Needs it. His tip hitting all your sweet spots, cum just leaking and weeping out of him freely as he drills into you. As many times as he comes, he just doesn’t go soft. If anything, he just gets harder, the urge to come getting stronger every time. Red blooming over his flushed hot face, crimson eyes flashing and fluttering back. Losing his mind in your cunt. 

“Please more! Please please!” You sob, growling with need and whimpering high and sweet when he flips you over, slipping back inside to hit you from another angle. And you come immediately when he presses to the hilt, gushing and dribbling all around him as he pulls out only to pound back in. His hand going to your hair, pulling it back, humping you into the edge of the workbench and pressing his face into your neck, groaning and moaning right by your ear. A pleasant mix of English and Spanish naturally leaving his mumbling mouth. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Not until this serum wears off, not until you both fuck it all out. 

“Fuck baby!” He growls, thrusting into you especially hard a few times, your ass bouncing, legs trembling, hardly able to stay on your toes, bent over the table and taking him. “Take it so good baby- fuck- jesus…” He pants, out of breath. Both your minds are completely gone. Not even aware of what you’re doing, how loud you’re being, how long it’s been. Only aware of how good it feels and how badly you need more. 

…

Finally after hours of nothing but sex and lust, you’re laying on the lab floor. This is where you ended up after all. Hitting that last orgasm that finally left you satisfied. Finally coming down and laying on top of him, tucked into the side of his lab coat to stay warm. His arms around you, his eyes locked on the ceiling and all of what just happened fresh in his mind. The best part, you remember every second, every word, every climax. 

“It’s too concentrated…” He mutters. Causing you to look up at him, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll have to dilute it…” 

“You think?” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ day 21!! I can't believe there's only ten days left until halloween! eek! I'm so excited to write some Christmas miggy after this. too soon? wc: 1.4k ੈ✩‧₊˚

“I’m in here!” He calls out from deep in the lab. The place practically pitch black but his eyes still pick up everything in the room. His sensitive vision not dampened in the slightest. Removing a few things off his desk before you come in, hiding them in a bin under the workbench. Then going back to mixing the chemicals and compounds he’s been working on. A bright pink glowing substance in vials and pipettes. Eyes flicking up to see you walk in. 

“There you are…” You sigh, walking deeper into where he’s sitting. Seeing him there working on something new as always. “Whatcha doin?” You hum, pulling out a seat next to him and sitting down, looking over his gloved hands as he’s working. 

“Just workin’...” He says with a small smile your way. Not knowing exactly why you came in here. Sometimes you just do that. When you have a break from missions or even on your days off. Just to be near him, he thinks. Not that you consciously make the choice, you just subconsciously search for him all the time. “How did this morning go?” He asks softly, turning dials and working on whatever substance he’s making. 

“It was good… got the Vulture variant back to his dimension… no one was hurt.” You nod. Leaning your elbows on the table and watching him work. Your eyes flicking over the vials and liquids around the desk. 

“That’s good…” He hums, standing up from his seat, sneaking a kiss on your cheek before he walks over to the boxes and dials on the wall. You have no idea what he’s doing but he’s on a mission of some kind. Pumping something into something else and it bubbles up in the glass container. Sparkling pink and neon.

It’s quiet and relaxing here. Especially after the loud, fast mission you endured this morning. Just watching him work. Like nothing could disturb this moment. You sigh, basking in the quiet and calm, tapping your fingernails on the metal workbench. Before hissss!

A small splash of the bubbling liquid spurts from the canister, sprinkling on the desk and glowing. One drop hitting your hand, making you flinch. It’s not too hot actually. The boiling point must be pretty low, but it tingles. Miguel’s eyes blow wide, turning to you once he hears you gasp. 

“Shit- come here” He rushes over, clearly it’s serious. Holding onto your arms and ushering you over to the sink. Shoving your hands under the water and the cold liquid chills your fingers. His chest pressed to your back, dunking your hands under the water, holding your smaller hands in his bigger ones and rubbing his thumbs over the backs. 

“Sorry- I should’ve had you put gloves on if you were gonna be in here” He sighs, shaking his head. Squeezing your hands gently and checking the backs to see if there’s a welt or burn. But there’s nothing. That makes it worse actually though. 

“It doesn’t hurt… what was that?” You ask, stepping back and letting him squeeze your hands in a towel to dry them. His eyes are constantly looking down at your skin, checking the backs of your hands, the fronts. He doesn’t answer your question though. 

“Uh h-how do you feel?” He looks up at you. Looking in your eyes. Almost like he’s charting down your every move in a log in his mind. “I feel fine…” 

He discards the towel, holding your arms gently and looking up and down them, running his thumbs over the joints of your elbows. Looking at the veins in your arms. Specifically the arm where your hand got splashed. “Shit.” He huffs, his eyes catching the faint pink vein marks on your arms as whatever that was creeps up your arm, getting into your system. 

“What? What is it?” You ask again. Not liking that he’s not answering. 

“Here just sit down, you’re gonna be okay, baby…” He says. Holding your arm gently and leading you over to where you were sitting before. And he turns off all the equipment he was using. The bubbling stops, the pressure gauges going back to zero. ���It’s not gonna hurt you…” He says, trying to calm you down. Cursing himself for being careless and letting this happen. He taps on his watch, the doors of the lab closing and locking. Adding to your unease.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, a sheepish look on his face. Sitting down in front of you and holding your hands. Your eyes narrow at him. Not answering this time. “What’s gonna happen to me?” You glare at him. 

“You just- um… here.” He sighs, letting go of your hands, messing with the small vial of pink solution. Pipetting a few drops out and dropping one on the back of his hand too. A little fizzle follows as the solution immediately absorbs into his skin just like it did on you. “Miguel!” You exclaim, eyes widening. 

“It’s okay… I suppose now is a good time to test it anyway…” 

“Test what?”

“Your Christmas present… birthday present, I don’t know… I made it for you. It was supposed to be a surprise so… surprise?” He says, grabbing your hands again. That guilty look on his face again. Looking at you through his big lenses and hoping you don’t get angry. 

His eyes seem to pierce into you. Like straight heat. Or maybe you’re just noticing how hot you’ve become. Like your spidersuit is made of fire clinging to your skin. Your face feels flushed and warm. Adjusting yourself on the lab stool and gasping, your clit buzzing like it’s awoken when it rubs over the edge of the metal. So bad that you feel the need to pull your thighs together, wincing at the shock of pleasure. But it’s not enough. Looking up at him now. Knowing exactly what he’s done. An aphrodisiac of sorts? Your horny little geek. 

…

“Ma-ahhHHnghhh!!” You scream, your moans echoing off the lab walls, back arching off the table and climaxing for what must be the tenth time. Miguel panting and groaning over you, pumping into you with all his strength. Coming so hard he’s seeing stars, seeing white, talons threatening to pierce your flushed hot skin. It’s been hours now. Who knew all this could come from one drop of the stuff? But it’s like there’s a waterfall between your legs, as if his cock just vibrates inside you, like every stroke makes you come. 

And he’s so sensitive. Every time he’s sheathed inside you, he just wants to burst. Needs it. His tip hitting all your sweet spots, cum just leaking and weeping out of him freely as he drills into you. As many times as he comes, he just doesn’t go soft. If anything, he just gets harder, the urge to come getting stronger every time. Red blooming over his flushed hot face, crimson eyes flashing and fluttering back. Losing his mind in your cunt. 

“Please more! Please please!” You sob, growling with need and whimpering high and sweet when he flips you over, slipping back inside to hit you from another angle. And you come immediately when he presses to the hilt, gushing and dribbling all around him as he pulls out only to pound back in. His hand going to your hair, pulling it back, humping you into the edge of the workbench and pressing his face into your neck, groaning and moaning right by your ear. A pleasant mix of English and Spanish naturally leaving his mumbling mouth. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Not until this serum wears off, not until you both fuck it all out. 

“Fuck baby!” He growls, thrusting into you especially hard a few times, your ass bouncing, legs trembling, hardly able to stay on your toes, bent over the table and taking him. “Take it so good baby- fuck- jesus…” He pants, out of breath. Both your minds are completely gone. Not even aware of what you’re doing, how loud you’re being, how long it’s been. Only aware of how good it feels and how badly you need more. 

…

Finally after hours of nothing but sex and lust, you’re laying on the lab floor. This is where you ended up after all. Hitting that last orgasm that finally left you satisfied. Finally coming down and laying on top of him, tucked into the side of his lab coat to stay warm. His arms around you, his eyes locked on the ceiling and all of what just happened fresh in his mind. The best part, you remember every second, every word, every climax. 

“It’s too concentrated…” He mutters. Causing you to look up at him, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll have to dilute it…” 

“You think?” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290

@sp0ck136 @lazyninjaphilosopher

@pinkdizzyship

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Mi Luz - Miguel x reader fluff fic

Content warnings - diabetes-inducing fluff, no smut, kissing, emotional constipation

Summary: Miguel has been struggling with stress, and a soft little somebody can't seem to leave his head. Pining, crush, cute cute cute big man

slow burn for two seconds cause I have no self control

Reader is afab, no y/n, described with having large eyes but that's it

love you sweet thing, enjoy ☆

It was hard to be the king of everything.

That's somewhat what he thought of himself, sitting at the top of his tall but lonely throne, scrutinizing his subjects. Miguel didn't choose this life, it chose him. The bitterness that came with the weight of the world sat thick in his mouth, twisting his lips into a snarl and his brow into a scowl. No surprise that the Spiders around him didn't meet his eye unless to cower in fear.

It didn't bother him. He liked being alone, enjoyed the quiet of his lair - except when his pesky assistant ruined his brooding with her obnoxiously loud voice-

"aw Migs, I thought we were besties..." her pixelated pout hung in front of his eyes.

never shoulda taken you out of the drafts, he muttered, but there was no venom behind the words.

Miguel wasn't a recluse, he was just...busy. Too busy to chat, to 'hang out,' as his younger employees begged. He had shit to do, people to save. Friendship didn't fit in his schedule.

So he stalked through the halls as little as possible, shouldering past cliques and couples holding hands. He didn't need that shit.

Okay, so maybe it bothered him a little bit. Not a lot. Just a smidge. An itsy bitsy amount, if you'll pardon the pun. Hardly worthwhile. Nothing to write home about. Just something that churned in the back of his mind every waking moment of his day came up once in a while.

The irony didn't escape him, how aura sensitivity seemed to be bestowed on the least sensitive man out there. The radiating emotion and color bouncing off of everyone that passed gave him a headache. Miguel had no spidey sense to speak of, no superhuman reflexes, but the minute someone's mood changed, his ears were pricking. Not that he cared.

He didn't care that his chest ached when the sour green of fear laced the aura of his visitors. It was like a switch; he'd walk into the room, and the once shining gold and pastel hues would darken to a nervous blue, thrumming with panic. Some could pass it off, putting on a brave smile for him, but he could see. Miguel could see every shift in hue that betrayed just how little HQ liked him.

But it didn't bother him. He was king of the world.

Miguel's fangs dug into his lower gums as he ground his teeth through the debrief. It had been a shitshow; a group of rookies too unfamiliar with the terrain to do anything other than Fuck It Up. Four of them, Spider-girl 2045, Huntsman, and the twins, Recluse and Widow. All young and stupid.

Currently, all four were talking over each other, auras flashing like disco balls as they bickered over who had the right story.

"I friggin told you, Wid, that's not the right street, it was definitely 45th-"

"Oh, suck my webshooter, that wasn't even the right universe-"

"Would somebody please figure it the fuck out before I send you all back to the void!"

A meek silence followed his outburst.

Miguel was heaving, red eyes glaring down at the comedy of errors beneath him. The kids stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. Shame and embarrassment swirled around them in a sludgy grey haze.

Shit. He did it again, he was trying to be better but they were so fucking annoying and it was loud and his head hurt-

"Go home," he seethed quietly, "figure it out, and come back when your heads are out of your asses."

Not waiting for another scathing word, the Spiders scattered.

With a bone rattling sigh, Miguel collapsed onto his desk frustratedly. Why was he like this? His temper was so strong, no matter how hard he tried to reign it in. Peter had a toddler for chrissakes and hardly ever raised his voice.

LYLA hovered over his shoulder, a knowing look on her face. He nudged his face further into the desk, shutting out her abrasive glow.

"Go 'way," he muttered, teeth scraping the plasticene surface. As always, she ignored him.

"You need help, Miguel. I mean it, hey don't-" her voice went stern as he reached to disable her.

"I don't wanna hear this again," he growled, fumbling for the controls.

"Well, I'm sure these kids don't wanna be screamed at again either, and your feelings are not more important than theirs."

His carmine eyes simmered with rage as he halted. She was right, of course she was right but god why did it hurt-

Shame licked his ribs and he ducked his chin.

LYLA took the opportunity.

"With the new universes we just discovered, there'll be a whole batch of new recruits. Is this really how you wanna run this? Christ, Migs, it's almost better to be independent than deal with you."

At his huff, she crossed her arms. Prancing to the front of his chair, she tapped his nose.

"You can fix it, if you really want to. But who cares if they're saving the world when the world they live in has people like you?"

She blinked out of existence, as a shameful blush reddened his cheeks.

Fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

Twenty new spiders would be arriving today at noon on the dot. Miguel could already feel the migraine coming on as he discussed logistics with Jess and Peter. Training, tours, watches, all the work was piling in his mind.

"Miguel?"

Jess' sharp tone brought him out of his reverie. She looked expectant, a stack of files outstretched. "Did you hear what I just said?"

His blank stare triggered an eye roll. "These Spiders need Multiverse tracking, so you'll take them to the Center at 2:30, yeah?"

Miguel acquiesced gruffly and snatched the files, Meeting adjourned, he waited for his office to be clear again.

Peter hung back, aura churning with conflict.

Oh boy, here we go.

"Hey big guy....up for a chat?" Peter's eyes were bright but wary, and Miguel shot him a weary look.

"I don't have time to chat, Parker, we've been over this," he bit out.

"It's important."

"I don't care, write me an email-"

"Huntsman is AWOL."

Miguel blinked, fiery words fizzling on his tongue. Impossible. He'd just seen him an hour ago, how could that be? Sighing impatiently, he began searching for the small boy on his wall of screens.

"Miguel."

"What."

"You scared him pretty bad, dude. I know you don't like to here this, and I'll try to keep the hippy-dippy to a minimum, but dude," Peter breathed, eyes worried. Miguel struggled to make eye contact, hating the rare sincerity of his tone.

"I mean..." Peter faltered, gesturing to the door. "Voidspace is no joke. Especially some of those kids, where they've come from...you gotta fix your stuff. That's not cool. Jess and I have been-"

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

"Don't look at me like that," Peter scolded. "You know I'm right."

Miguel seethed out his nose, hands clenching and unclenching around his tablet. god, if only other people saw feelings the way he did, maybe they'd leave him alone.

"I," he spat, "am aware that my temper is...volatile. But-"

"No buts," Jess said from behind him. He whirled. The tension was strangling the air from the room. He needed a break. There was so much to do...

"How you talked to the recruits today was unacceptable. Don't act like you're above consequence," She said in response to his growl. "That behavior is appalling. We can find someone else to do this, you know."

His anger dissipated. She wouldn't.

"You wouldn't."

"If it meant helping the success of the next generation, I would."

Miguel, for once in a long time, felt the sting of tears in his throat. Sensing the shift, Peter gave him an awkward shoulder pat and retreated.

"We care about you, man," he said gently, "but you gotta work this out."

With that, the door slammed shut, and Miguel was alone.

Again.

☆ ☆ ☆

He thumbed the corner of his sweatshirt, damp from his workout. Peter's conversation rattled around his brain. He didn't think he'd been that harsh. He never meant-

He never meant to hurt anyone.

But it was inevitable, wasn't it? No matter how hard he tried, someone always got hurt. His tongue was too sharp, his claws too fast.

Her form, small, clutched in his arms, deteriorating into pixels as she sobbed-

No.

He wasn't doing this again. Miguel stared at himself until he was sure the mirror would crack. They deserved better. He deserved better. It was cowardly, the way he hid from emotion.

Was that what it was?

Was he afraid? Afraid to reach out for it to snap back in his face? It seemed so childish, like there should be something more than the fear of other people keeping him at bay. Gabi was gone. There was no changing that. He knew that in his head, but his heart?

The roiling stew of his emotions made his chest tight. He couldn't do this, not right now.

Maybe tomorrow.

It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Miguel was steadily working, a slight burn in his red-rimmed eyes the only indication that he was tired. Adrenaline buzzed through his veins, keeping his back rigid and muscles taut.

Another anomaly, another fight, another file. click-click-click went his keyboard, rhythmic in the the empty office.

Almost empty, that is.

Out of the corner of his eye, a soft shine radiated from the doorway. Biting back a sigh, he leveled his tired glare with the figure, mentally preparing himself for one of Peter's scoldings. But as the figure drew closer, he realized he didn't recognize the shimmery white aura or the person attached to it.

"Miguel O'Hara?"

A soft, lilting voice carried from the base of his tower. Miguel blinked, not recognizing the voice either.

"Yes?" He responded gruffly, wracking his brain for who the fuck could be visiting him at this time of night -

"Um...Can...Can you roll down? O-or something? I'm sorry, I just can't really see..." the sweet voice faltered and he rolled his eyes.

Maybe, if they'd waited till a reasonable hour to visit him, his chair would be in a more reasonable position. But nooo.....

Regardless, he began the slow descent from his perch. As he grew closer to the ground, the pearlescent light grew more in focus. Miguel came to the conclusion that he definitely did not know you.

Your expression was patient and soft, standing with your hands folded and dressed in a comfortable sweater. You must be new; most seasoned Spiders wore suits out of convenience. A file was grasped loosely in front of you.

"I'm supposed to be working in the office next door, and it seems I wasn't given a keycard?" Your owlish gaze turned hopeful, and he was taken aback by your gentle gaze.

Miguel had never seen someone with such large eyes. Round and long-lashed, they exuded warmth and an innocence that reminded him of her

No.

Stop it.

"Uh, yeah, hang on a second," He fumbled for his watch and pushed past you, not waiting for you to follow.

His mind was reeling, trying to recall if he was supposed to know who you were. Jess had mentioned an assistant, but he figured it would be someone less....soft. More experienced, that is. Besides, he didn't trust you. No way was he just shoving the fate of the universe in your hands, even though your eyes were nice and you didn't cower when he spoke-

Stop. It.

He exhaled loudly, trying to expel the thoughts with it. You stood next to him, ever patient. Your halo, he found, was still that shimmering white. It was a soft light, not glaring and oppressive like the colors of his teammates. It soothed his headache rather than aggravated it.

Realizing he was staring dumbly at the locked door, he sighed again and slid the keycard across the pad.

Error.

Miguel blinked. He had the master card, it applied to every door, what the hell? Trying again, he felt impatience coiling in his chest. What....

Peter. Peter had borrowed his card to let Mayday out of a lab she'd snuck into. He promised he'd return it by today, but knowing him....

"I can't fucking believe this," Miguel muttered venomously, "he takes the most valuable piece of tech I have and fucking forgets to return it, that irresponsible piece of...shouldn't even be a father, gotta be kidding-"

"Miguel?"

He froze, having forgotten you were there. Humiliation tinged his cheeks. He'd done it again, fuck, he wasn't even trying-

"If it's too much trouble, I can just get my card tomorrow." Your voice was patient and placating.

He shuffled his feet, unsure of how to handle your response.

You were still glowing with a soft white light, tinged only by a slight pink hue. Sympathy. No fear, no ugly red anger or terror at his temper. your eyes. you looked him in the eye. you smiled at him. you wanted to help-

His throat, too choked up with confusion and pity and ugh that he merely grunted and ducked back into his office, leaving your soft gaze behind.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, it drove him crazy. Your patience. Your light. He could feel you from yards away, your glow that was always warm, always kind. Your card arrived safely, and there wasn't another mishap between you two.

Every day, you'd pitter-patter into his office on soft feet and explain the schedule to him, then go through the mission briefs with a gentle tone that didn't falter, even if he grouched about the conferences overriding his lunch break.

He didn't think he'd need an assistant. He could do it himself, had been forever. But you...helped. Your organization was impeccable, finding reason and structure where his brain only saw chaos. Miguel was terrible with time management, but you'd give him a gentle reminder that it was time for a break, or that the work was done and his brooding could be saved for tomorrow.

Go home, Miguel, you whispered kindly, tucking a bag of dessert into his large palms. I'll see you tomorrow.

Well, he'd see you sooner. He liked to think about you. It didn't feel like daydreaming, because you worked together and therefore thinking about you was thinking about work, technically. It puzzled him, how your patience never wavered. You'd heard the stories, comforted victims of his wrath. But your light only burned brighter with him, never dampened in contempt.

He noticed it first at a work party. Miguel hated these functions, found them boring and tedious. Chatting about mundane things while nursing cheap wine and a migraine? He'd pass.

Then, you arrived. Dressed in a soft purple sweater and a long skirt god he loved your sweaters, how warm and docile your eyes hidden shyly beneath your hair. He itched to walk over, but nerves rooted him to the spot. You were tucked against a wall, clearly uncomfortable, and as your gaze scanned the busy room...

you landed on him. And,

you glowed. radiantly, your nervous blue haze shimmered with a soft golden happiness, and you waved with a smile. Miguel swallowed thickly.

You were happy to see him. He, who never gave you more than two word sentences, who snapped and bickered and bit like a hissing cat, made your halo glow so bright it warmed his cheeks.

Nobody had ever felt that way about him. And it was so fucking stupid, the giddiness that made him dizzy. Decency was all it was. You were just being nice. And here he was, a blushing melting mess because you were happy to see him.

He looked forward to you even more after that. Slowly, he tried his best to bite his tongue, to keep the irritation from spewing. Instead, he tried fanning the flames with small talk, stumbling through conversation like a lovesick teenager.

He could tell you were surprised, but you welcomed the change. You would sit at the edge of his desk and talk about random occurrences, silly mundane things that still made his cheeks ache from smiling. How the slowly brightening halo of light around you made him adore you more, even if you had to sheepishly apologize when it got too bright.

don't be sorry, mi luz, he wanted to whisper, I love to see you shine.

Then, inevitably, you would pad back to your office and your light would be gone. Miguel would pout at the loss, missing the gentle glow that made his chest ache.

So he decided to do something about it.

You were revising a plan against the latest anomaly in sector AB-7. His tablet was clutched to you as you curled against his chair. The warmth emanating from your aura made him melt with adoration, eyes growing heavy-

"Migs?"

He hummed, still gazing. You'd picked up the nickname from his AI, and he wanted to curl up in your lap every time you said it.

"You look tired, I'll let you rest." You placed the tablet back on his desk and patted his shoulder god do it again please before turning-

"No."

He murmured it, not quite pleading. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion. "You...can stay. There's room down there, if you still wanna work," he added gruffly.

You didn't say anything, and he felt the words rush out. "It just- it just seems strange that you'd be working in a different office when you spend so much time here anyway, but don't worry about it, it's fine-"

"Migs," you said, so gentle it made his toes curl. "I'd love that."

And hence began the worst mistake of his productive career. Because now you'd made a home in the corner of his space, and your softness was always there, so inviting for him to marvel at. He'd lost hours of working just staring.

He learned everything he could about you. How you weren't cleared to fight, which is why you could afford do dress so comfortable. Fine by him, he'd blow a fuse if something happened to you. As long as he could keep you tucked in his little haven, safe for him to admire, he didn't give a fuck.

Jess would raise her eyebrows at your constant presence, but his heart rate was lower and he smiled. She'd never been more shocked.

He was doing better.

Miguel soon found himself focusing all of his spare attention on you. Buying you sweaters, letting you watch your favorites movies on his widescreen, doing anything to make your light glow a little brighter.

This was....different. he hadn't had this, not for a long while. It made him nervous, a little undercurrent of shyness beneath his desire to make you smile. You were never as forward with him, kind as ever but at a distance. He would take what he could get, though. As long as your light kept shining, he'd bask in its warmth.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, what a meeting. He'd zoned out halfway through, so astronomically exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open. His thoughts were consumed with the idea of taking a nap on the old sofa you'd shoved into his office. you'd be right next to him, reading and playing with his hair, oh god if only the clock would move faster- Miguel almost lept out of his chair when the meeting concluded.

His feet quickened back towards his office, feeling your light trickle under the door.

Oh. uh oh. uh oh uh oh.

He stood frozen, staring at his desk. You had made yourself comfortable in his chair, napping with your chin tucked and hair mussed and he felt his chest grow tight god what is happening to him good christ-

Miguel swallowed roughly and peered down at your closed eyes. Your aura was a soft pink, content and sweet. He wanted to hold you so badly. God, that's what he'd been needing. To tuck you up in one of your devilishly soft sweaters and keep his little light all to himself.

It wasn't lust, his desire for touch. Lust felt too carnal, too vile for you. He would never defile you like that, wanting only to watch you shimmer and preen with happiness. Little light, mi luz, so soft...

His eyes were shining with adoration as he looked at you. He didn't know how long it had been, and he didn't care. But after a moment, he realized sleeping on his straight-backed chair would hurt your back. He needed to move you. Hold you on his lap, he was softer and warmer and god help him-

Taking a breath, Miguel slid his forearms under your curled form and lifted slowly, careful not to jostle you. Whatever love demon was inside keened with joy, and he wanted to weep. As he gently maneuvered you towards your comfortable armchair, he caught a shift in your body. Freezing again, he waited for you to finish squirming, finally settling with your head tucked in his neck.

And oh, mi luz

You were glowing warmer now, the faint blush shimmering gold against your hair. Miguel's lips quivered and he began to rock gently. His hands shook with care. He could feel the tranquility rolling off of you in heavy waves, making his eyes heavy and his heart full. You felt safe with him. Soft snuffling breaths against his collar and hands clutched loosely at his nape sent shivers down his back.

He was going to die. His chest burned with the need to shout, to scream with excitement. Finally finally, little soft light, all his to hold-

Miguel might have been squeezing too tight in his joy, because your brow pinched and you mewled in discomfort. He immediately hushed you, coaxing you back into golden sleep. Crooking his elbow so you laid comfortably over his shoulder.

"Sleep, mi luz, I have you. I have you," he cooed, nudging his nose into your jaw. You sighed contentedly and murmured a good night as he gently laid with you in the armchair. He buried his face in your hair, shivering with the warmth that enveloped him.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wherever this was, he never wanted to leave. Miguel felt syrupy and languid, wrapped in a cocoon of something that felt divinely warm and safe and

"Migs?"

A rustle, and the lovely bundle in his arms blinked blearily at him. His lovestruck eyes shone down at his little love, and he smiled gently.

"Hi, dovey," he murmured, rubbing your back, "sleep well?"

You nodded and scooted up, seated fully against his chest. Your aura pulsed sluggishly, dripping like honey. Miguel was too busy sweetly nosing your cheek to notice the hues dancing around your head. still half-asleep, you purred happily, dozing gently against his warm neck. Miguel kept up, suckling gently behind your ear and across your lips and everywhere he could reach without waking you. He could do this for hours.

The warmth was beginning to singe his hair though, and he hissed gently.

"Mi luz," he whispered, trying as gently as possible to rouse you. You whined at the wake-up, doe eyes drowsy and unfocused.

"Your halo, mi sol," he whispered, pecking your cheek, "getting a little warm is all."

you blushed, quickly dampening the shining haze of love you had blanketed over the both of you. Miguel grunted and laid his head back again. You followed suit, curling against him as close as possible.

'love you,' your lips murmured into his skin.

'mi luz,' he said reverently, and his soft mouth soothed you back to sleep.

that's all folks! might do some lil drabbles off of this but idk yet. hope you enjoyed, requests are open, ilysm xox

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @migueloharasbbm @ridiculous-hibiscus @seeeuspaceecowboyyy @neeshsoodrippedout @llumetrii @iminloveweveryone

tags, comment to join

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Home Is Where You Are

Miguel x reader Summary: After a long day at the Spider Society, Miguel returns home to his pregnant wife. The mundane reality of domestic life is what keeps him grounded, and today, coming home to her is exactly what he needs.

___________________

Miguel’s muscles ached, and his head felt heavy with the weight of a thousand thoughts. Another day of wrangling Spider-People, managing interdimensional crises, and keeping the multiverse from collapsing into itself had left him weary to the bone. But the thought of home, and more importantly, the person waiting for him there, was the only thing that kept him going.

He punched in the coordinates and opened the portal, stepping through with a sigh of relief. He never thought he’d appreciate the mundane tranquility of his own apartment so much, but life had a way of surprising him. And lately, everything seemed brighter, more meaningful because of her.

The door to their apartment creaked softly as he stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. Instantly, the familiar, soothing scent of home surrounded him: a mixture of vanilla, freshly baked cookies, and the faintest hint of her favorite lavender soap. He could hear soft music playing in the background—a playlist they’d made together a few months ago, featuring all the songs they’d slow danced to late at night in the kitchen.

“Cariño, I’m home,” he called out, his deep voice echoing through the quiet hallway. He set down his bag and peeled off his shoes, sighing at the immediate release of tension. He felt like a different man just by being here, in their shared space. The Miguel who was exhausted and irritable, weighed down by the universe’s problems, was slowly replaced by the Miguel who was simply a husband. Her husband.

A soft rustling came from the living room, and then she appeared, glowing and beautiful as ever, even in her oversized pajamas. His gaze instinctively dropped to the gentle curve of her belly, the small yet precious life growing inside of her.

“Hey, you,” she murmured with a warm smile, leaning against the doorway. “Rough day?”

“Long day,” he corrected, crossing the room in a few strides to wrap his arms around her. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead, and then, without hesitation, dropped to his knees, placing both hands on either side of her belly. “And how are my girls doing?”

She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “We’re fine, but I think one of your girls missed you more than the other.”

“Is that right, princesa?” He whispered softly, rubbing his thumb gently over the spot where he knew the baby liked to kick the most. “Did you give mamá a hard time today?”

“Not too much,” she replied, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair. It was a comforting gesture, one she knew he loved. “Just a few kicks here and there. She’s definitely your daughter—she only seems to calm down when she hears your voice.”

“Smart girl,” he murmured with a smirk, planting a few more kisses on her belly before standing back up. “Just like her mamá.”

Miguel’s eyes softened as he took in her face. She looked a little tired, but there was a serene happiness in her gaze that never failed to touch something deep inside him. The kind of happiness that came from being loved and cared for—and, in turn, loving and caring for someone else.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked, guiding her gently back towards the couch. “I can make something if you haven’t.”

“You spoil me,” she teased, but let him fuss over her, knowing it brought him as much comfort as it did her. “I had a little snack, but I wanted to wait for you. How about we cook together?”

He hesitated. He wanted her to sit and relax, put her feet up and let him do everything, but he also knew she hated feeling like she couldn’t contribute. So, with a small nod, he agreed. “Okay, but you’re on chopping duty only. No heavy lifting.”

“Bossy as always,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow. “But I suppose I can let you play chef tonight.”

They made their way to the kitchen, and Miguel pulled out the ingredients for a simple pasta dish—something they could whip up quickly but still enjoy together. He set her up with a cutting board and a pile of vegetables while he started on the sauce.

For a while, they worked in companionable silence, the only sounds being the gentle chopping of the knife and the simmering of tomatoes and garlic in the pan. Every now and then, she’d glance up at him and catch him already looking at her with an affectionate smile.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she tossed the diced bell peppers into the bowl.

“Nothing.” He shrugged, turning back to stir the sauce. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Hmm, are you now?” She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting her lips linger for a second longer than usual. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

“Debatable,” he murmured, but his smile widened.

They moved around the kitchen with the ease of people who were completely in sync. There was no rush, no urgency—just the simple joy of being together. Miguel handed her a spoonful of sauce to taste, watching as she closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation.

“Perfect,” she declared, giving him a thumbs up. “As usual.”

He let out a small chuckle, feeling a sense of pride swell in his chest. “Glad you think so, querida.”

Dinner was served soon after, and they settled down at the table, their knees brushing under the surface. It was moments like these—sharing a quiet meal, exchanging stories about their day, and occasionally feeding each other bites of food—that made him forget about the chaos outside these walls. Here, it was just the two of them—and their unborn child, of course. A tiny world within a world that was untouched by danger and responsibility.

“So, what did you get up to today?” Miguel asked between bites, his gaze never straying far from her face.

“I worked on a few nursery designs,” she said excitedly. “I’m thinking something neutral, maybe a soft yellow. What do you think?”

He paused, picturing their future daughter’s room painted in those colors, filled with tiny clothes and toys. The image made his heart swell.

“I think that sounds perfect,” he murmured. “You always have the best ideas.”

Her smile lit up her entire face, and for a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in every universe combined.

After dinner, they migrated to the living room, where she insisted on massaging his shoulders, claiming he looked tense. He tried to protest, but one firm look from her had him sitting obediently on the couch while she worked her magic.

“Better?” she asked softly, her fingers working out the knots in his muscles.

“Mmm,” he rumbled in satisfaction. “Much better. But I think I should be the one doing this for you.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You take care of me so much, Miguel. Let me do something for you too.”

He sighed, reaching up to grab her hand and intertwining their fingers. “I just… I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” she whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “Because of you.”

They sat like that for a long time, her arms wrapped around him from behind while he held onto her hand, drawing strength from her presence. The soft hum of the music and the warmth of her body against his back were more soothing than any remedy.

Eventually, they shifted, settling into their usual cuddling position on the couch. She nestled into his side, her head resting on his chest while he draped an arm protectively around her shoulders. His other hand found its way to her belly again, tracing gentle circles over the fabric of her pajamas.

“Can you believe it?” she murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. “We’re going to be parents soon.”

“I know,” he whispered, a hint of awe in his voice. “I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes shining with love. “You’re going to be such a good dad, Miguel.”

He swallowed hard, emotions swirling within him. The thought of fatherhood had scared him at first—terrified him, even. But with her by his side, those fears seemed smaller, more manageable. Because he knew they’d face it together.

“I hope so,” he said softly. “I just want to give her everything. Everything I never had.”

“You will,” she promised, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You already do, just by being you.”

He leaned into her touch, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I love you,” he murmured, the words holding a depth of emotion that he could never fully express.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, leaning up to capture his lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until the sky outside their window darkened and the soft sounds of the city filtered in. Slowly, the day’s exhaustion began to catch up with them, and she let out a sleepy yawn, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“Time for bed, cariño,” Miguel murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled, but made no move to get up.

With a fond chuckle, Miguel scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. She let out a content sigh, her head resting against his shoulder as he gently laid her down on their bed. He slid in beside her, wrapping his arms around her once more.

“Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, Miguel,” she murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

As he lay there, watching her breathe softly beside him, his hand still resting on the gentle swell of her belly, Miguel felt a profound sense of peace settle over him. No matter what challenges awaited him at the Spider Society tomorrow, he knew that he had a safe haven to return to. A place where love and hope bloomed, filling every corner with warmth.

Home wasn’t just a place—it was her. It was them. And as long as they were together, everything else would fall into place.

With one last, loving glance, Miguel closed his eyes and let sleep take him, his heart full and his soul content.

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Can I request a Miguel O'Hara x Curvy reader where they both get intoxicated from sex pollen ??

[Sticky-Icky]

lab taster: @waterinthefire 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Curvy!Reader

summary: He's a lot less irritating when he puts his mouth to better use.

content warning: a PWP but you guys know me (there's a little plot), this is so 18+ that it's crazy so MDNI, sex pollen (or more like Miguel is playing around and doesn't know wtf he's doing), unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾) manhandling, temperature play if you squint, standing 69, facefucking, creampies, wrong use of webs, biting, breeding, spitting, cunnilingus, fellatio, fluff if you squint...I think that's it. my god.

word count: 4.3k, halfway proofread

a/n: Listening to Sticky by Ravyn Lenae inspired part of this. Also several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares, Hell’s Kitchen, and Law & Order: SVU. And one more rewatch of ATSV.

My duty as a fanfic writer is fulfilled as I give you this mandatory trope. 🫡

When you first started working at Spider HQ, you were amazed by the fact that one man was able to create all of this.

It was astounding, beyond what the gray tones of Nueva York could ever present to you.

Now, you think back to your glittering eyes during the first year working here and laugh.

Working for Miguel O’Hara was like squeezing a watermelon through a straw. He was impossible.

Nothing you did was ever satisfactory for him. Something could always be fixed. Sometimes, you wonder why he still kept you employed here.

Currently, he was turning his nose up at a salve you working on for spiders whose healing time wasn’t nearly as quick as others.

“Run a new test. This batch is no good.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“The formula could be better, it’s too thick, and why does it smell like that?”

The scent was similar to one you wore often and a lot of the spider-people that swung by the pharmacy seemed to like it.

“Uh, jade tea.”

The pinch in Miguel’s eyebrows deepened as he sniffed the air.

“Switch it to something else.”

You huffed, already tired of this conversation, “Well, what smell do you suggest?”

“Anything but this.”

“How about lavender, then? Perhaps peppermint.”

“And now, you’re being childish,” Miguel put the tin down before placing his hands on his hips. “You know there’s spider-people who can’t smell too much of that.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

He plopped a giant file on your desk, “Deal with that later. I need you to work on something else. For some reason, villains across dimensions are obtaining access to a substance similar to rapture. Every time there’s a mission, the spider-person of that dimension has been left affected. I need something to subside the effects until we can get them back here.”

“Ok, well do you have the substance with you?”

“No. But I’ll get you something soon. For now, I have a year’s worth of research on rapture. It should be of some use.”

You took the rubber band off of the manilla folder, something so old school for this era of tech.

You saw a line of formulas that started to make your head spin.

“Are there a lot of people affected right now?”

“Only a few. They’ve used the leftover solution I made a long time ago. It’s only going to work for so long,”

“Good. I need to sleep on this.”

Miguel’s head knocked back an inch, “Are you refusing work? The state of the heroes of different universes relies on this research. It’s not some science project-“

“I understand completely, Miguel, but I’m off the clock.”

He stopped and checked his watch, the red six o’clock burning back on him.

“I only work the hours you pay me, Spidey,” you reach to pat his arm and regret it when his stern face doesn’t move.

“Not interested in paid overtime?”

You bit your cheek to stop the laugh from coming out.

“That’s nice and all, but I’ve got plans.”

“Like what?”

“Like resting, sleeping, not touching lab work with a you-sized pole. All of these are things you aren’t familiar with. Plus, I have a date.”

A pause went through the room as you started to gather your things.

“Since when do you date?”

You push your chair under your desk harder than you mean to, “Since when do you care?”

“I,” he follows to the elevator, “care about my employees.”

“Sure, Miguel.”

If it weren’t for your tired state, you would think he looks a little sad at your statement.

“See you tomorrow, then?”

The doors start to close as you nod your head, Miguel’s gaze stuck just above your head.

Weird. Just like his frequent stops to your lab.

The feeling doesn’t leave your gut even as you’re smiling in your date’s face.

One minute, you’re laughing at a story about some amateur skateboarders Downtown, and the next, an electric billboard is being covered in tiny nano-spiders across the street.

“So the guy just takes one step on the board and then he’s flying. A straight line across the park.”

“That’s,” the spiders start to crawl into different lines. Then a logo forms, displaying spider on Miguel’s suit next to an exclamation point. “So hilarious.”

Your date chuckles then follows your gaze, the silence too long, “Is there something wrong?”

The nano-spiders flipped around, the regular billboard showing like normal. You squint.

“No, I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination.”

“You did say you were a little tired from work. Should we raincheck? We can always catch a movie another time.”

You wanted to say no, you’d been looking forward to tonight.

The billboard flickered to a little picture of Lyla with “SOS” above her head.

“Yeah, I should probably get going. Sorry about this.”

The way he doesn’t sweat you practically ditching him makes your heart pang. You’re already dreading another night exhausted and alone. Your date seemed promising.

You wave at him from your taxi, the route leading back to Spider HQ feeling like torture. You unclasp your purse and check your gizmo.

40 missed messages.

It’s not until you’re walking into the regular lobby that you turn it on.

“What is so important that you waste Margo’s time to interrupt my time?”

Lyla pops in your peripheral, hands up and wary, “I’m only doing what boss asks! Don’t get mad at me.”

“Lyla, why am I back here right now?”

“Well, Miguel has gotten himself in some particular trouble.”

You punch the elevator button, “Get to the point, please.”

“He went into your lab to try and start the solution he talked about earlier. After his first accident, he’s never had any luck with lab work, so uh. He’s kind of made a mess.”

The elevator moves and you look at Lyla, “What kind of mess?”

The doors open and you can smell it before you see it.

It’s poignant, like perfume soaked roses and patchouli. The scent hits you hard enough to make you grip the metal opening as you come out.

“What exactly did he do?” you breathe out.

Your limbs start to shake, nerves drumming from the inside out. A weight feels like it landed on your core, your stomach twitching as you continued to take in whatever had transpired.

“Something about DNA splicing and plants. I can trace his movements back if you’d like, but I’m also currently trying to figure out how to reverse it.”

“Great.”

You swing open the door to a disheveled Miguel. He’s sweating profusely as he tries to clean up your lab desk.

Before you can even begin to yell he’s fussing, “Lyla, I told you not to call her!”

“But you obviously don’t know what you’re doing.”

He bites his lip as he tries not to look at you, fingers trembling as he starts to store materials back into their drawers.

“Thought you had a date.”

“And I thought I told you stay away from my station,” you feel like a baby deer walking over to him.

When you get closer he sucks in his breath like you cut him, stopping in his tracks.

“I don’t think you should be near me,” he grunts. His eyes are dark, lips swollen with the way he’s biting them.

“What are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”

You round the corner of the desk, the image of you two almost comical. Miguel moves to the edge of the desk, chest moving faster, while you chase after him trying to get a hand on his forehead.

He felt extremely cold compared to the numbness of your palm, despite how flushed he looked. His eyes close as your hand slides from his head to his neck, muscles there tensing.

“Please. Don’t,” he whispers.

“Who else is coming here to save you?” you ask, frustrated. “What did you do anyway?”

He doesn’t answer as he peers at you. Your heart is beating faster and you can’t tell if it’s because of the air or because of the way he looks like he’s about to climb you.

Every move you made felt like sharp pricks in your skin, the tight material of your dress digging into your hips. It felt like the ends of burning flames and you wanted it off. Your breaths were picking up and you couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on other than Miguel being your cooling solution.

“Miguel,” you sounded like you ran a marathon when all you did was step into his space.

“It’s the shocking formula that I screwed up. That’s why everything feels-“

“Like I need you,” you interrupt. “Like I want you on top of me.”

The insides of your thighs were fighting against themselves to stay together, the urge to let your legs fall around him strong.

“That’s just the chemicals talking. W-we can get somewhere safe and separated.”

You grab the back of his neck and pull yourself even closer, his hands gripping the table like a lifeline as he groans.

“So you don’t want me?” you press against him, caging a knee around him right next to his hand. “You don’t think about me?”

You can almost feel his heartbeat matching yours as you pull yourself up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t wonder how I feel when you come into my lab snooping around? How I feel when you come in here barking orders?”

Your face is in his neck and you feel yourself clench around nothing as you take a deep breath. He smells like coffee and fabric softener, but there’s an underlying wave of musk. Of something so unbelievably him and you want to keep that scent close forever.

“I imagine you’re annoyed. But a job is a job.”

“But you still come in here asking for things you know someone else can do,” your panties are soaked, and from the way his nose flares, you know he knows. “Why?”

His teeth grit as you start to grind on him, the feeling giving you an inch of relief that only makes you want more.

“I, I don’t- It’s because I,” the counter began to crack under his hands. His muscles were pulled taut. “Dios, ayúdame.”

Maybe you were wrong, and your hazy mind only brought thoughts from the subconscious one.

“Fine. I get that you don’t like me but could you at least give me some type of relief?” you were whining in his ears at this point, a complete 180 of how you left him earlier today. With every grind of your hips, you left noises in his skin, desperate.

The desk made a terrible sound as Miguel finally lets go and grabs around your waist. Your breath is slammed out of you as your back hits the wall, Miguel’s hand holding your head to stop it from crashing into wall too.

Your throat makes a gargled sound as Miguel licks down your jaw, his talons ripping into your dress. His tongue swipes into your mouth, breaths rapid as he finally gets a taste.

“I do like you. More than I should,” his words were passed right into you. “You and your smart mouth.”

“Then stop talking and do something about it.”

A yank in your hair stops your complaints, Miguel kissing down your side. Every press of his lips left a chilly flutter. Your hips are moving frantically, patience wearing thin. Right as you’re about to say something again, he flips you, the layers of your dress falling as he rips into your panties.

The blood rushes to your head as he takes a bite into your thigh, sucking as your legs fall to his shoulders.

You moan his name, hands gripping at his thighs. His kisses led to your lips, swollen and dripping. From your clit to your entrance, he groaned as he covered you, drinking like you were water in the middle of the night.

You felt like you were going to slip, but Miguel’s arms were looped around your legs, not letting go. His suit was in your way, your mouth salivating as his crotch stared back at you. Your fingers could only dig as far as his suit allows and you have half a mind to call Lyla to disengage it.

“Please,” you sigh as you rub his bulge with your cheek. “I need it so bad.”

“Cállate,” he hums, face delving deeper into you. The sound of him licking up every drop echos off the cool walls and the light of his suit dims away letting you see what you’ve been waiting for.

His length hits your chin, precum spilling down and you’ve never been more excited for a man to go commando. You open your mouth and let your breath hit him as you take a swipe down to his balls.

Miguel’s grunts and shifts his hips back. His tip swerves around your face as he tries to find your mouth without unlatching his jaw from your sex. You help out with the last bit of sanity you have, and once you wrap your lips around him, his hips snap hard onto you.

All you can feel is Miguel entering you from top to bottom, his hands keeping you stationed in your position. There’s no room to do anything as he’s devouring you and taking your breath away at the same time. Two of his fingers sink into you, and you jerk from the difference between his skin and his tongue.

Miguel nibbles at the hood of your clit, urging you to be still. Whenever his fingers leave you, his pelvis fills your senses. Your throat gags around him, spit building to keep up with his thrusts.

“So good,” he hums. His pace picks up and the tears in your eyes fall to the floor. “Made for me. Only me.”

Your fingers wrap around his thighs and squeeze tight, your vision fading as you try to take in pockets of air. The shake in your legs and the broken moans that escaped your lips only ignited him.

“Bebé,” his hips stutter. He’s sloppy as he drools over the entrance, voice loud. “Bebé, you’re so, ngh.”

He cums down your throat, balls twitching against your face. You close your eyes and try to swallow everything, jaw aching. Miguel groans your name as he slides his dick out to the tip, a few spurts still landing on your lips. You cough, position making everything go north.

The taste of him was delicious, but you needed more of him elsewhere. Your mouth was as drenched as your cunt and yet you still felt empty.

When Miguel flips you back upright, you’re ready to pounce on him again. The state of you both is alarming. Your breasts have completely fallen out of your dress, that black thing barely holding on by its zipper. Miguel’s suit is phasing in and out in the most obscene places. There’s slick up to his eyebrows and his cum is all over your cheeks.

He grabs your jaw and runs his tongue over your face, cleaning up his mess. You let him live in his own bubble before that burning in your core came back.

Your nails dig into his shoulders and your whispers of “more” come to light. You’re clawing at him like a cat begging him to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away.

“Miguel,” you gasp as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Miguel, it hurts. Fix it, Miggy, please.”

You guide his hands down your body and place them on your ass. His touch sates you for only a moment, but your body reacts as if he needs to be deep in your bones. He spreads your ass and groans as the sound of how eager you are for him follows.

“You’re not ready,” are the words that make you even more frustrated. Your hands pushing and pulling at him, ready to try and put him where you want him to go.

He clicks his teeth and flexes his wrists. His webs tie your wrists together, neon red strings leaving a buzz on your skin. He yanks your dress off and you stumble with the motions.

The clinical room doesn’t aid the building heat you feel, but Miguel turning you around and pressing you into the wall as he cuts the rest of your panties off does.

He squats and grabs two hands full of you.

He spits onto your hole, mesmerized as he watches it slide to your entrance. “Qué hermosa,” he whispers.

You bend, whimpering as your folds cover his nose, clenching and grinding.

“God,” you sigh. Something this small was going to bring you to the edge so quickly. “D-don’t stop.”

“Greedy,” Miguel says as if he’s not moving the fat of your ass to nudge his face into you. The arch in your back deepens as he continues and your whines get higher.

He smacks your right cheek, sound echoing off the metal tables, and you shout his name as you coat his tongue.

Tranquility clears your mind for a second, one where the flowery scent in the air is less strong.

The peace leaves just as fast as it came when Miguel gets rid of his suit and stands behind you in all of his glory.

His eyes followed from your dewey face to the curve of your hips to bitten thighs to feet with one heel still on.

“He didn’t deserve to see this,” he says.

“W-what?”

Miguel ignores you and pulls your wrists up straight, a confused noise leaving you. He wraps another web around your ankles and huffs. He sets your arms under your chest, your hands in front of you like a prayer.

When he picks you up by your waist, his dick lines up with your ass.

He groans as he grinds, watching himself disappear and reappear.

You try to move with him, “No, not there. Inside.”

“You’re always so distracting,” he growls. He slides his length between your thick thighs and you nearly scream as his hips hit your ass, his tip just barely passing over your clit. “Can never think straight when I see you.”

He rubbed over the bite he left on your shoulder, “So pretty. My pretty baby.”

His low voice right in your ears only made you wetter. He was holding you like you were his toy, fucking the inside of your thighs with ease.

Miguel could cry watching your ass bounce on his stomach. Your legs were soft and warm and he just couldn’t stop.

“Want you so bad. Need to fuck you again and again and again,” he said as your thighs quivered around him.

“Please, Miguel. Make me yours,” your voice crowded the sound of his grunts as he held you up and pounded away.

Those were the magic words to get him to lean back with a firm grip on you and release all over the wall. It was everywhere, from your legs to the wall to the ceiling.

He set you to the floor with shaky arms, and you started to sob.

All of this and you still wanted more. If this was making you feel this insane, you can only imagine the small relief Miguel was feeling after being exposed for longer.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to the bare floor and cuts the webs. You immediately try to climb him, legs wrapping around his waist.

He was painfully hard for someone who came twice now.

Your cries of “inside” slur together, tears running down your face. Miguel was no better, fangs dripping with venom and the hairs on skin raised.

The two of you tussle as Miguel tries to keep your hips to stay stationary. You kept jerking in order to get some sort of friction but he was baring his teeth to get you to quit.

You dip your nails into his shoulders and arms while he drags a talon down your sternum to snap your bra off.

A clatter of your stiletto sounds off across the room as he pinches your thigh, “Easy, beautiful. Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Fucking hurry,” you whine.

He shushes as he plunges inside of you, the noise you both make as loud as a choir.

Your eyes roll back as Miguel presses, bending your body in half.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel leans to whisper onto your lips.

Tight is the first thing that comes to mind and heat is the next.

He moves his hips up and slams back down, your ass shifting from the pressure.

“Miguel!”

“That’s it. Talk to me.” All of that chatter earlier and now you can barely get out a word.

“H-harder,” your hands don’t know where to go. They’re grabbing Miguel, they’re falling next to your head, they’re grabbing at your breasts as Miguel jerks your body.

Miguel goes to open your jaw, lips pulling on your tongue to suck. It’s tender and sensual compared to the way his balls are slapping against you. There’s a ring of white on his shaft getting thicker and thicker as he continues.

“Pretty thing,” he says as he lets your tongue go, a string of saliva falling to your neck. “Watched you on the cameras. Always.”

That stirs something in you, a spark in your chest as you see stars.

“Did you want to do this to me when you watched me?” you manage out.

“Yes.”

“I can put on a show for you next time.”

“Yes.”

“You come in here. ‘N fuck me over the counter.”

“Sí, sí, baby,” his hands push your knees next to your head and he ruts against you. His thighs were straining as he took and took.

A yell pulls itself from your core, that burning feeling getting a crash of cold water. The dam bursts and you’re running all over Miguel, essence leaving every time he inches out and back in.

“Gonna fill you up,” he rasps, eyes glazed over.

You nod your head, clenching and pulsing around him.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he shudders against you. You suck him in, gaining a deep moan from him, “Así, bebé. Take it.”

It’s like you can finally think as his cum overflows, your heart rate finally slowing.

He stares at you as you both come back to reality. Your body is limp, the weight of Miguel making itself known.

“Holy shit,” you wiggle and he catches the hint. He lifts a bit and pulls out. The swirl of you two falls out of you in waves. “What. The fuck.”

“God,” Miguel mumbles. “No shocking way we just did that.”

“You can’t say that when the evidence is leaking out of me.”

Miguel groans as he watches you, your face pouty and your hole glistening. It was intoxicating.

His dick twitches, coming to life again the longer he watches.

“‘M sorry in advance,” he says as he pulls you into his lap.

“Just take care of it, O’Hara.”

The two of you sat in the middle of the floor, breathing hard. Pieces of consciousness were starting to come back.

“You looked stunning tonight,” Miguel said. He looked at your shredded dress on the floor. “I’m glad he won’t see you in that dress anymore.”

The snort that leaves your nose turns into a full-blown laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just took my soul ten times over and you’re worried about a guy I just met less than a week ago. I fear I’m ruined for anyone else.”

“Oh,” he smiles. “Good.”

“You still should take me on a date. You’ve got a lot to explain.”

Flashes of him confessing to his habit of watching you from afar come back, “O-of course.”

“And you owe me a new dress.”

“On it.”

Lyla pops up next to you both, a blindfold over her shades, “Is it safe to talk to you guys now?”

Miguel checks his gizmo, “I think we’re good for about forty minutes. The effects are starting to wear off.”

“Excellent!” She throws the fabric to the side, “Oh my god, this room is a mess.”

You look at the array of substances over the room and grimace. The entire hall will have to be on lockdown.

“Well, I managed to vent out the solution. You two should be ok soon.”

You lean on Miguel’s chest and close your eyes, happy to hear good news.

“Kind of sad that this is what it took for you to confess, Miguel,” she comments.

“Lyla!”

You laugh again, “Some confession.”

“That’s enough,” Miguel scowls.

Your giggles die down as you pull yourself onto Miguel’s thigh, bubbles in your chest molding into moans as you start to grind over his thigh.

“I’m starting to think you guys are just bluffing,” Lyla gags before she disappears. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“I think,” you nuzzle into his neck, “this’ll be the last time. I’m tired.”

“If not, we can take it to my house.”

The world blurs again as you and Miguel connect under the white lights

Take a shot every time I say breath or breathe 😭. Anywho, as always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Me using the power of my imagination fueled by delulu to appreciate myself each time I finished working on small tasks

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Kinktober Day 4 ~ Praise Kink

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Summary: Miguel discovers something new about himself. Minors DNI!!

A/N: This man deserves praise idc. Enjoy!

Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

It was two simple words.

“Good job!” You praised with a high five after taking down an anomaly together.

Miguel reluctantly reciprocated the gesture, but those words have been stuck in his mind. He hardly remembers the last time any of his other teammates told him good job or good work. So why does his heart beat fast when you say it? Sweat forms on his skin, and he almost opens his lips to get you to say it again.

You were clueless about his seemingly normal reaction.

Now, he starts doing things to get you to say it again to him.

That means an influx of missions where it’s just you and him. A vast difference from before, when you hardly went on one with him every couple of weeks.

Miguel knocks over anomaly after anomaly to hear you say, ‘Good work’, ‘Nice job!’, ‘You’re amazing Miguel!’

Your positive words make him all fuzzy on the inside, butterflies soaring in his stomach.

Just hearing it from you that one time isn’t enough. Miguel starts recording your missions with him together. You get his permission as he uses the excuse of the recordings being for training exercises. So other spiders can learn and adapt. He wasn’t lying. He has Lyla set up the recordings in the training area. But he has a separate file comprising snippets of you praising him. You having that smile on your face, eyes soft whenever you gaze at him.

You were always friendly, striving to be helpful and praising others whenever possible. You were so kind and so sweet.

Miguel swore he almost broke the rewind feature on one of his screens the way he kept going back to your words. He takes in your gentle smile and the way your eyes twinkle while looking in his direction. And gets aroused.

Heat goes to his cheeks as his suit starts getting tight. No, he couldn’t be sexually attracted to getting praised. Could he?

It’s all because of your looks, he thinks. Miguel does think you’re attractive, but he wasn’t going to act on his feelings. Yet, you telling him ‘good work’ was making him hard.

He decides to reluctantly take care of it, knowing that it wasn’t going to happen again. The way he pumps his cock, watching you praise him for taking down that Scorpion anomaly so quickly. With a pat on his back. He recalls the warmth left on his body once you did that. His stomach in knots.

Miguel bites his lip, watching cum leak from his tip. He collects it and smears it down his shaft for extra lubrication. Would you keep telling him ‘nice work’ anywhere? If he helps you with any villains’ in your universe? Watching your pretty lips compliment his work ethic.

Or would you praise him in bed?

Say what a good job he’s doing while he’s eating out your soaked cunt. Sucking on your clit, two fingers inside you while your legs were spread wide for him.

“You’re amazing, Miguel…” You’d say, hands gripping his head and tugging on his brown curls.

That gets him going, picking up the pace in pumping himself.

“S-Say it again…” He mumbled, squeezing his shaft. His chest rises as his breaths start picking up the pace.

“You’re such a good boy.”

Miguel chokes, head back and lips parted in pleasure. Yeah, he’s good. So good for starting a group of elite spiders to help save the multiverse. So good for taking on this burden that no one else could because it may be too much. That’s all he wanted to hear. From you.

He wished you were here to say that to him in person. To give him the praise he needed in his line of work. Instead he let himself linger on your kind words, more pre cum leaking, tip aching for relief. The talons on his feet dig into the platform as his strokes are sloppy. He lets out a few groans, not caring if any other spiders could hear him from the lab.

Miguel lets go, abs tense as his cum shoots out, staining his hand and the nearby console. All while growling your name.

Miguel takes a moment to get himself together before a picture of clarify hits him. He can’t believe he came due to a few praises uttered by you. Something new about him he wasn’t sure he liked.

“Uh, Miguel?”

His heart drops to his stomach at your voice. “U-Uh one moment.”

Miguel desperately tries to clean himself up with some tissues he had Lyla stashed. He hoped you didn’t hear any of that. He did say your name awfully loud, but there are other people with the same name as you. He could play it off as he was bringing up someone else and not you. While in a fit of ecstasy.

This wasn’t going to work.

When he lowered the platform, he noticed your face was flustered. Yeah, you definitely heard it.

“I can explain…” But when the air was quiet, he couldn’t. Words not able to reach past his lips.

“Well, I heard my name as you groaned and…” Your brows furrow, trying to make sense of it yourself.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again-”

“Why not?” You tilt your head.

Miguel pauses, still hearing his heartbeat. “What?”

“Why…not?” You say while inching closer to him, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. "I liked it..."

He gulps, unsure what to say at your odd confession.

“This…you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“You mean a strong, handsome man like yourself?” He releases a sigh at your praise, muscles that were previously tense, relaxing. “Who’s such a good boy?”

Miguel took in a heavy breath before calling Lyla. “Lock down the lab. I won’t be out for a while.”

Tags: @fandomfics @freythecrazyfae @maddyperezzzsstuff

@mynamesstevenwithav @eyes-ofhell @maxad99

@howlingco @cherrypieyourface @snails-doodles22

@siren-141 @nega-omega @sweetimpurity

@hehekittyhawk @spencerswh0r3 @saintdiior

@maliaofthevalley @hyjionie @wolverigrl

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

Secrets Of The Duke Vampire Miguel O'Hara

Summary: During a chance encounter with the Duke of Nueva York, you discover he’s a Vampire when his compulsion doesn’t work on you. What happens when he holds you captive in hopes of keeping his century-old secret.....a secret?

Tags: Beauty and the Beast retelling, Vampire Miguel, arranged marriage, set in the 1800s(hence why he's a Duke), another ff where's he's mean in the beginning. Tags for smut: cunnilingus, 3.1k words

A/N: In honor of the most recent anon ask for Vampire Miguel and Spooky season. Mwah<333

School is kicking my ass help...

Masterlist

•°~°•

You're resting in the corner of the packed ballroom as you regain your wits. The effects of constant socializing wear on you. Your social battery can only last for so long. As your eyes scan the crowd regretfully you make eye contact with the Duke of Spindelton. He's one to hold a conversation for far too long, unable to pick up on the social cues around him. Quickly you make your way to your nearest exit.

You find yourself being hit with a harsh gust of wind the second you open the doors to the backyard. You're grateful that only the insects are the ones keeping you company you would've been upset to know people are lingering out here. You take a moment to study the beautiful lights and garden with rows of different flowers that you know all too well. Hyacinths, Lilies, Lavender, Roses, and Hiscubis are in rows of 5 they are withering though this garden has definitely seen better-

The sound of nearby rustling reaches your ears. “Who’s there?” You speak out into the darkness expecting it to come to a stop but it doesn’t if anything it becomes louder. “I won’t hesitate to scream if you try something! Show yourself”  Nervously you take a step back when a tall man emerges from around the corner. Dressed in all black from head to toe he’s dressed to the nines his suit is tailored to perfection as if the material melted onto his body. He does however seem to be off-trend for his suit is at least 3 or 4 seasons ago. For he appears to be of social status so then why is a man like him lurking in the bushes?

“Have I frightened you, my lady?” Even his voice screams wealthy hmm interesting.

“Just a little bit and you are?”

His eyebrows raise. “Do you not know who I am?”

“If I did I wouldn’t have asked you to address yourself now would I?” A smirk creeps on his face. “I suppose you are right. I am Miguel O’Hara the Duke of Nueva York”

“The Duke of Nueva York?” A gasp escapes your lips with a man of his status you could be in big trouble if anyone heard the way you were just talking to him. Immediately you curtsy not wanting to disrespect him any further. “My apologies, my lord if I knew who you were I would’ve never-” He raises his hand signaling you to stop. “It’s alright we all need to partake in a little banter now and then. I’ll excuse your behavior if you take a walk with me” You stare at his now-extended arm before nodding holding onto him gently. 

The two of you walk hand in hand throughout the backyard basking in the moonlight. “Tell me why are you all alone in the gardens? Is my party not to your liking?”

Your face flushes oh how embarrassing it is for the Duke to find you escaping his party. Unable to help it you begin to stammer over your words. “N-No it is lovely I just needed some fresh air” His laugh reaches your ears. “Are you always this easy to rattle?”

“No, I’m just caught off guard that’s all”

“Being out here alone in the gardens you need to be on your guard you never know what lurks in the dark” You nod following as he leads you deeper and deeper into the gardens the sounds of his party becoming distant. Does he not want to be there either? You glance from his mansion then at him and as if he could read your thoughts he speaks. “I have no desire to get back so quickly I highly doubt they even notice my absence” The conversation that follows is simple and smooth. There's no awkwardness lingering in the air you’re surprised that he’s so easy to talk to. 

When his feet come to a halt taking in your surroundings you realize that you aren’t aware of where you are. Have you been so lost in the conversation that you haven't paid attention? This isn’t normally like you. Placing your index and your middle finger on your head you begin to rub your temples. Your mind is-

“Would you like to spend some more time together?” The Duke stares at you and you can’t help but stare back. You nod you’re not quite sure if you want this night to end just yet. He leads you to a bench that seems to magically spawn. You’re positive it wasn’t there before. With just your luck you lose your footing causing you to fall into the safety of his arms. Now you know based on the suit the Duke is a well-built man however being in his arms feels like they have been sculpted by God himself. 

Your faces are now inches apart and you can’t help but lean in a little closer. He’s a very pretty man with chiseled and sharp features yet kissable and full lips. You haven’t desired a man since your late husband so the warmth that settles in your belly feels so exciting. Before you have the chance to say anything he opens his mouth to speak his words coming out in a breathy whisper. “May I-” You say ‘yes’ before he even finishes. 

He places his lips on yours pulling you flush against him. Your arms wrapping around your neck. You were right his lips are kissable, very very kissable at that. As a sigh escapes your lips you realize you wouldn't mind staying like this for the remainder of the party. He pulls away leaving you breathless as he speaks. “If you wouldn't mind I would love to bring you to my chambers tonight”

Everything comes to a slow stop. “How can you ask that of me? If we do this I will be with child and I would be more unattainable than I already am. Oh just imagine the scandal “A Widow haves baby out of wedlock””

He leans in invading your space again. “There are other ways that I can bring you pleasure without fully consummating” 

Oh.

He's talking about doing that stuff. Feeling embarrassed you begin to hug yourself. Why must you make a fool out of yourself in front of the Duke?

He touches your arm in reassurance. “Only if you want my lady you can say no” For some reason you feel so drawn to him. “No I want to, it's just I don't want to be seen going to your chambers with so many people present” He takes a step closer to you, his hands sliding to the base of your neck. “We can do it right here if you want no one ever ventures off this far”

You fist his jacket pulling him even closer. “You promise” Once he nods, you've made up your mind. You can't remember the last time a man wanted you. “Then kiss me”

His lips find yours again and you can't help but moan into the kiss. You can't quite put your finger on it but there's just something about him that feels so familiar. Instead of getting lost in your thoughts, you focus on the present. Your hands begin to tug on his hair just at the ends so you don't mess it up. He walks you to the bench all while your mouth is still on each other. 

Once you're seated he begins kissing your neck. You expect his kisses to be fast, almost feverish but they're not. He's taking his time kissing you there moving ever so slowly and you swear you hear him breathing you in. Before you have the chance to say anything he begins to get down on his knees bunching up your dress in his hands before he disappears under your skirts. He maneuvers around your undergarments so quickly his mouth is on your cunt in an instant. His hands squeeze your thighs as he begins to devour you. A man this skilled with his tongue should be locked away in a tower somewhere. When he begins to suck on your bundle of nerves you begin to grind on his mouth in return. Your breathing grows heavy and you can’t help it as a moan escapes your lips.

 You're not even sure how he is finding the ability to breathe while being trapped under there for so long. To your surprise, it isn’t until he adds two fingers inside of you that your orgasm curses through your body. When his face comes to light you swear you see the moonlight reflecting on his teeth. Huh how is that-

His lips find yours again and you smile knowing that you can taste yourself on him. Your hands go to the waistband of his pants but he pulls away from you shaking his head. “I can’t wait any longer bare your neck to me” 

Dazed you look at him confusingly. “My lord, what—what are you talking about?” His left hand cradles your neck angling your head to the side. For some reason, his nails feel so sharp to the point where it hurts. His breathing grows heavier and an animalistic sound emerges from his chest. Everything in your mind screams danger something is not right. “A-Actually I don’t think-” A blinding hot pain shuts you right up the second his mouth is on your neck again. It’s not like before there's no kisses this time it feels like he’s biting you. You try to push him off but you’re immobilized. The mere strength of him keeping you rooted in place. You want to speak but your body is growing weaker and weaker by the second.

After what feels like forever he finally stops licking your neck before facing you again. As you feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness the blood dripping down from his chin makes you gag.

“You will forget about this moment we took a walk in the gardens nothing more nothing less when you tripped and fell hitting your head on the bench”

And that is the last thing you hear before the darkness consumes you.

•°~°•

It’s been so long since he’s had blood that tasted so sweet with the right amount of spice. Miguel had watched you before…..when your husband died he would find you in the gardens on your knees planting. You never had a garden when he was alive so it was fascinating to see a woman of your status doing something meant for servants. He would find you there for hours and with just his luck you would start when the sun would set so he was free to watch you as long as he wanted. You did it all while humming a tune he knew too well. But now that he's tasted you he has a feeling he'll be back for seconds.

•°~°•

You begin to groan as you come to your senses. What in the world just happened to you? Your mind feels dizzy and you feel as though you just ran for miles on end. Blinking through the pain you rub your head as you try to remember what just happened.

“Are you alright my lady? You fell and hit your head. I hope you don't mind that I sat you down on the bench and till you regain consciousness”

“I-I thank you my lord I am forever in your debt. Should we head back to the party now?” You take his hand and he brings you to stand. The second your eyes meet his images of blood dripping down the side of his mouth flash through your mind. Pausing you take a big step away from him.

What was that?

Instinctively you reach for your neck and a faint pain still lingers. 

“Oh my goodness you—you bite me. You're a monster!” He takes a step closer and you take another step back. “It's the fall you must've hit your head harder than I thought you need to get checked out by a doctor”

Gathering your skirts you take off running. You're sure of it, he's the type of monster that you grew up hearing about. The one that only lurks in the dark. The one that lives on for thousands of years and the one that preys on the innocents draining them of all their blood.

You probably get about 10 feet when you're being pinned to the ground. His eyes glow red and his sharp nails are pressing into your neck. “You're a witch aren't you, that's how you remembered? How did you get your blood to taste so sweet then magic? Did you try to poison me?”

“W-What are you talking about get off of me, are you crazy? Someone help me!”

“I told you no one ever ventures this far, it's just me and you. Now answer me how are you able to still remember?” Tears begin to sting your eyes as you try to fight him off.

“I swear I don't know what you're talking about, just let me go, please. I'll do anything just let me go” The Duke yells out something and a man appears at his side within the blink of an eye. “The party is over shut it down now”

“My lord is everything alright, who is she?” You glance at the man and it's clear that he works for the Duke so there's no use in asking him for help. “Peter don't make me repeat myself” The man bows before disappearing.

“Do you have any family?”

“W-Why?” He presses his nails further into your skin and this time you're sure he's drawing blood. “Okay okay don't hurt her please I told you I won't tell anyone it's just me and Mom”

“Then you pick it’s either you or her in order to ensure you won't tell I need to monitor you at all times. So who's it going to be?”

“I—I don't understand why would you need her?”

“If I let you go I need to make sure you won't utter a word I need the leverage. But if I have you then I won't need to worry about it. Don't make me ask twice…..my lady” It's like you can feel the venom laced in his voice as he utters the last two words.

Feeling your tears running down your face as you take in his words you think how did this night turn out so wrong. “Would you hurt her if I stay?”

“No, I have no desire to hurt an innocent lady”

“But you would hurt me?”

“If you do as I say I would have no reason to. My patience is wearing thin give me an answer now or you will meet your end”

You say a silent prayer hoping that whoever's up there will keep your mom safe. “Fine take me I’ll stay with you just promise me you won't hurt her” He gives you a curt nod and then he's on his feet pulling you up with him the grip on your elbow is so harsh. A great contrast from the feelings of ecstasy he made you feel earlier. That feeling is nothing more but a feeble memory now. How naive of you to think that the Duke who only throws a party once every 10 years was not a strange man.

He begins to drag you back to his house when the same man appears at his side again. It's like he's running but how can you not see him doing so? “All the guests have left the premises only the rest of us remain” The man—Peter glances at you unable to hide his interest. “Sir if you don't mind me-”

“I do mind now leave”

Peter ignores the Duke and speaks directly at you instead. “Are you alright my dear? Do you need anything?”

“Peter stop talking oh so help me I'll-”

“R-Right sir. If you'll need me I'll be….where I always am” Once again the man disappears. When arriving at the mansion the sounds of the party are long gone and Peter is right there's nothing but servants cleaning up the aftermath. Upon arrival, everyone curtseys greeting him with respect however when their eyes land on you a hush falls over the crowd.

He points to the woman with brown hair in a whimsy dress. “Lyla you shall be in charge of her any wrongdoing she does will fall on you” The woman steps up thanking him before turning to face you. She greets you with an apologetic smile.

“No one is to speak to her without my permission understood” He doesn't wait for them to respond and he's dragging you up the stairs. You probably trip over them 3 times as you try to keep up with him. The Duke then ushers you inside of a room. “You are to stay here until I say so. Lyla will escort you to breakfast, lunch, and dinner when necessary. If I find out that you are a witch I will kill you and if I find you roaming the halls, especially in the West Wing I will kill you” 

You look up at him in bewilderment…jeez he's so much taller than you are. Why are you just now realizing that? “Can I at least say goodbye to my mother if you plan on keeping me locked up here forever?” You hope that the nice man that you met and had a wonderful conversation with before the night went sour is still in there as you look at him.

…………

But as he begins to close the door you realize that man is long gone. Who's to say he was even there in the first place? Maybe you were imagining it? Quickly you make your way to him before the door closes completely. “Please let me see her just this once and you can come with me but don't let me leave her without saying goodbye” He stares at you for a moment and you swear you see a flicker of emotion in his eyes but it disappears as fast as it appears.

“The answer is no and don't ask me again” And with that, he closes the door it isn't until you hear the door locking that the reality of your situation dawns on you. You will never see your mother again and all because you decided to be so foolish. You were always too trusting for your own good. Sinking to the floor you place a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries.

What have you done?

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 👻🎃 Happy October my sweets! Please enjoy and I'll see ya tomorrow for day 2!! 🎃👻

cw: fingering 1.6k words. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“You did so well today…” Miguel says suddenly, his eyes on the holographic screen in front of him. Breaking the silence of his office except for the hum of machines and computers. You came to discuss a future mission and he’s finding the files in the computer database when he says it. Bringing you to look up at him. Lashes fluttering slightly and a warm satisfaction flooding your chest, smile gracing your lips. You worked hard as you do everyday and it’s good to know he notices. “Thank you…” 

“Really, babe. You were the exact right person for that mission and because of you, it went perfectly.” When he says it this time, he looks into your eyes. A genuine, purposeful look in his eyes. You could swear he can see you literally melting. From the inside out. “I’m very proud of you…” 

 “Thanks, Mig…” You can’t help the smile, warmth flooding your cheeks, a strange feeling inside, like pure happiness and satisfaction. Cracking your knuckles behind your back, crossing one leg over the other where you stand.

…

“I love your hair like that.” His deep voice hums and you feel his fingers on your cheek, pushing some stray strands behind your ear. Turning around to face him and that familiar feeling comes back. “It’s so pretty… too pretty…” He grins as he’s walking past you. His dark eyes raking over you and watching that smile wash over your face. Your voice a meek gentle sound. “Thank you, baby…” 

“Thank you, pretty girl…” 

…

“Amor, you made these yourself?” He smiles across the desk. The fruit-filled empanadas you made in the middle. The dessert you spent so long learning how to make. Because you know they’re his favorite. The butter layered in between, the reduction of berries and sugar to make the jam, the delicate shapes they’re formed into. Made with love and care. “Yeah I did!” You smile brightly across the table. Beaming at him. 

“I’m so impressed, baby, these look so good.” He says as if it’s no big deal. Like you aren’t squeezing your thighs together under the table. He’s been doing this a lot lately. Maybe you’re just now starting to notice. From the compliments on your outfits or how good you look in your spider suit. To the progress you make on missions, the food you make, anything you do. “Thank you Miguel…” It’s something you keep saying. Over the past few days especially. It’s like everything you do, he just loves it. And more than that, he’s letting you know. 

…

“You can pick the movie, I always pick.” You toss him the remote across the sofa. A rare quiet night in after a string of busy society days. Flopping back against the cushions, your legs draped over his lap and his big warm hands running up your calves, to the underside of your knees. “I think you should pick…” He says.

“But I always pick.” 

“Because you always pick the best ones. Every movie you pick… that’s the perfect movie.” 

Your eyes narrow at the side of his face across the couch. And then he finally looks over at you. His brow rising. “What.” 

“What is that? What are you doing?” You smile, giving him a skeptical look. To which he just shrugs. He wasn’t doing this last week. He was his same stubborn and quiet self last time you checked. So you pull your knees up, rolling up across the cushions and over to him. “That thing you keep doing…” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” He says, sighing and fighting back a smile when you climb into his lap. Straddling his lap with his hands naturally coming to your hips. His deadpan face to face with your narrowed expression. 

“You keep complimenting me and… like everything I do, you say it’s good and stuff.” You say, crossing your arms with a pout. The words feeling stupid coming out of your mouth. He’s your boyfriend, of course he’s supposed to compliment you on things you do. Is all of this just normal stuff? No one you dated in the past ever did this before. But why is it such a big deal? 

“You’re just so perfect at everything baby…” He whispers. And it’s now you’re sure he’s doing this with some ulterior motive. “You and I both know that’s not true!” You disagree with a smile, pointing a finger right at his face. “There are lots of things I suck at!” And he just leans forward, pressing his lips to the tip of your finger. “Perfect fingers too…” 

“Miguel, stop!” You pull your hand away, blushing so hard and trying to squeeze your knees together if not for the blockage of his body between them. It’s more confusing than anything. Crossing your arms again. “Perfect fingers, perfect hands, perfect body, perfect face… most perfect girl in the world…” 

Your eyes widen as the whispers hush past his lips. Your heart is starting to pound. “What happened to you? What's going on?” You ask incredulously. It’s comical. 

“There’s nothing wrong… you’re just perfection, baby…” And he just leans forward, closer. You lean back, not knowing why you feel this way. Did he hit his head too hard on the mission today? You’re not complaining but all this praise coming from your usually reserved and quiet man is shocking. His eyes trail up your body as he’s speaking. Scanning you up and down. “You like it when I talk like that, baby?” He whispers looking right in your eyes, grinning at the embarrassing blush fanning your cheeks. 

“I don’t know…” You whisper in return, pressing your cold hands to your hot cheeks and keeping them there. “You like that?” He asks again. Although the answer is obvious. “Mm…” You just hum softly, nodding with your hands on your face, as if to hide from how hot he’s making you feel. 

“You’re such a good girl… such a sweet girl…” He whispers, barely audible over the thumping of your own heart in your ears. Pushing some hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. “It’s my job to let you know, right? To let you know when you’re being a good girl…” His deep voice vibrates.

He can see how this is making you feel. A satisfied feeling for him, watching you react. He’s suspected for a while that you have a thing for being praised and sweet talked. That it’s more effective in getting your panties off than a sharp talon sometimes. Even if you yourself have no idea. Because he can feel it. The way you squeeze around him when he so much as tells you, you’re beautiful during sex. The way you’re ten times slicker when he drowns your mind with countless compliments during the deed, making you hazy. So hazy you barely remember it the next morning. You just remember how good he made you feel. It makes you so much softer, like putty for him to play with. It’s his job to please you as best he can, is it not? 

The past few days have sort of been a test. He’s a scientist after all. He showered you with compliments about anything and everything. It wasn’t hard for him. Since he really does believe in everything he said. He just usually doesn’t make a habit of saying it out loud. But knowing it gets you off was the biggest push for him to verbalize it every time. And knowing you like being good for him does things for his ego. 

…

“You’re my best girl, my pretty girl...my only girl…right baby?” His voice husks, one arm wrapped around your back to keep you in place and the other buried in your panties. “Mm! Hah Mig-” You can only sigh and moan, grinding into his hand. His palm pressing perfectly to your clit. His long fingers curling up inside you, pressing upon your g-spot over and over. Massaging your sensitive walls and feeling you gush on him. You’re just so sweet for him. It gets him hard just watching and hearing you. The soft squeaks and squeals and sighs. Your knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, toes curling in your socks and desperate hands raking through his hair and holding his head in your neck. Listening to the praises and words of devotion flowing from his lips right to your ear. “Such a pretty, perfect pussy, amor… so soft.”

His other hand dips into the back of your waistband. A big warm hand splayed out on your asscheek and grabbing a handful in a squeeze. Pulling urgent moans and whines from your throat. His touch is gentle while still confident and sure. This is about your pleasure after all. Two of his thick digits filling you up already, working in and out, his other hand moving down your ass and snaking between your thighs, making you want to close your thighs again. All his fingers with all their attention on filling you up and making you come. 

“Keep those legs open, baby…” He whispers, making you whine. Nudging your head to tilt back with his strong nose. His lips latching onto your throat in wet kisses, feeling you squirm, you just can’t keep still, knowing you're close. “Come on baby… be a good girl and come for me…” His words alone could get you there. To know he’s pleased. 

“Miguel I-I’m… hah!” You squeal, fingers digging into his shoulder blades, and his head pulls back to look up at your face. “That’s my girl- Oh you look so beautiful like this baby… gorgeous girl… you can come, it’s okay…” 

Your eyes flutter and roll back, a gasp of his name and you’re done for…

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[dark-garfield-is-hot]

I'm trying to see something

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

sorray for thinking he drank blood i was flashbanged by his caked up cheeks and mental illness

[dark-garfield-is-hot]

miguelito brainrot