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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

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Can you please do a hero x villain spice where hero punishes villain for something 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 and make it VERY spicy im begging

When the villain woke up, they were delirious and sweating. At first, they squeezed their eyelids together, for the stinging light seemed to burn their retinas.

They gulped for air and let their head fall back, taking in a few breaths before they could register that they were bound to a chair.

“What the…”

Although they needed a few seconds to get used to the brightness, they were fully aware that they weren’t alone.

“Oh, hello,” the hero purred once the villain spotted them leaning against the wall in the corner. From what the villain could see, they looked smug, very satisfied too and the villain wasn’t sure if the burning desire under their skin was normal or from the sedative.

They seemed to be in an interrogation room but thankfully there were no cameras. The villain always said dumb shit when they were alone with the hero.

“What did you…”

“Shhhh.” The hero sat down on their lap, hips against hips with their arms on the villain’s shoulders and —fuck— that woke up the villain. “God, your eyes are really pretty.”

The villain felt heat conjure in their cheeks and they wanted to look at the floor. However, there was only the hero they could look at and, admittedly, it was a good view.

“All those muscles, too. You’re really stiff, though.” The hero grabbed their shoulder and squeezed lovingly as their nails dug into the villain.

“I…Christ—” The villain couldn’t help but moan. They’d been sore for days, ever since they’d helped some other villains during a heated hostage conflict.

“Listen,” the hero said. They grabbed the villain’s jaw gently. “You’re clever, I know that. We all know that. But taking people hostage? Not your style and not smart.”

“I…” The villain’s laboured breath became more controlled but still lacked any calmness. “I’m sorry.”

It had been…a complicated situation. Hostage situations were incredibly difficult to pull off and obviously illegal as well as dangerous. When the villain had agreed to it, they had had their reasons.

“You’re ruining your chances at redemption. I thought that’s what you wanted? I thought you wanted to be better.” The hero pressed their hips deeper into the villain’s which made the latter close their eyes, reaching for the self-control they needed so bad. The hero was so close and still out of reach.

Yes, the villain wanted to be better. They knew their methods were wrong and making them a criminal but there was also strategy involved in this.

“This is important to me.” The hero brushed the villain’s throat with their lips. “You’re not a bad person.”

“You kidnapped me,” the villain whispered as a little tingle of excitement formed in their stomach. They loved it when the hero wasn’t sticking to their moral code. It was like they were rubbing off on each other.

“The police were after you, so I caught you first. I saved you,” the hero replied.

“I love how you’re trying to tell yourself that this is heroic,” they said, grinning tiredly.

“What is this then?” The hero repositioned themselves on the villain’s lap, resulting in more friction against the villain’s crotch. God, this was some other type of torture.

“Mean.”

“Mean?” the hero asked. “Oh, dear, I eat villains like you for breakfast. I can be so much meaner.”

They tugged on the villain’s hair hard enough to be pleasurably painful. The villain knew they were too desperate.

“You’re seeing other villains?” they asked. Unexpectedly, the hero gave the villain’s neck a wet kiss and the villain swore it activated their whole nervous system.

“Of course not. I’m just teasing,” the hero murmured.

“Mm, good, good.” Their eyes found each other and for a second, the villain could only stare at their enemy. Sometimes, they regretted what kind of life they had chosen. If they had chosen another path, become a hero, maybe they would already have the hero to themselves with no second-guessing and no jealousy knocking on their door regularly.

“May I?” the hero whispered and at first, the villain wasn’t quite sure what they meant. Until they got closer. Until their hand was on the villain’s thigh.

“Do whatever you want.” The hero kissed them quite possessively. They were eager and skilled when it came to intimacy. Although the villain didn’t want to call themselves lonely, they knew that the hero was driven by the same feeling. To want someone is easy but to deserve affection?

There were times when the villain had doubted that they deserved to be loved. And yet, the hero was there. They were present. With their tongue in the villain’s mouth and their hand in the villain’s pants.

It felt indescribably good.

“The hostages,” the hero began when they had to gasp for air.

“Come on, not now…” The hero kissed them again but they continued to whisper against the villain’s skin.

“You can’t just do that. You can’t take people hostage.”

“I…” The hero’s hand was exactly where the villain wanted it but the hero’s movement was less than little. “It was in exchange for a favour.”

“I think you have to speak up a little.” The hero tilted their head, genuinely curious, and slowly began to move their hand more.

“…I wanted to protect you, I — fuck — I worked on the job and in exchange the others leave you alone,” the villain said. Their brain was fried. And their heart was beating happily until their head was red. However, their answer surprised the hero.

“Wait, really?” They stopped and the villain cursed quietly, suffering from the dying ecstasy. The hero looked…happy? God, the villain couldn’t really tell, they were too deep in their personal pleasure limbo.

“Yes,” they admitted. “Protection for you.”

That made the hero smirk.

“We won’t need protection today, my love,” they joked.

“I fucking hate you,” the villain answered, despite mirroring the hero’s grin.

What they weren’t aware of was that the hero’s disapproval regarding the hostage situation was serious. They didn’t let the villain finish even once and that was pure horror. Otherwise, they were quite sweet today.

#he ate my heart #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #suggestive

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bloodandthestars · 1 year

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・✧ — 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄

tags: NO SPOILERS!, a part in the HE ATE MY HEART series, antihero fwb! reader, takes place before atsv, little translations this time (fantastic, fuck), of course mdni.

author’s note: hello everyone! thank you for 155 followers?? never thought this would happen, much less me ever posting my work. so thank you for taking a chance on me! i hope you’ll enjoy where I’ll take this (when i figure it out lmao)

EDIT: so I’ve discovered that Miguel doesn’t have a spider sense, so let’s just have him go off of his enhanced senses instead, sorry for the error!

wc: 4.8k previous masterlist

You weren’t exactly knowing of Nueva York’s high elite, other than what you could use to your advantage. They were so high on their pedestals, that they think no one will climb to touch their things. And those that did, hid them within layers of secrets and security. That’s where you come in.

For the right price, anything can be known by anyone. Cooperate coverups, measly affairs, underground operations— you charge triple for anything connected to the government, god forbid. You could retain information that could crumble empires and not bat an eye.

You’ve been working with Miguel for a couple of months now. You weren’t used to working with someone else and well, neither was he. But so far, you had nothing for a cause to keep a knife behind your back.

Weeks went by without another word from the arachnid— at least on the work-related side of things. Behind closed doors was an entirely different story you both knew too well. You didn’t take notice, as he was usually tight-lipped on his plans. That was until you pulled out a hint of what he was doing at your previous job at Oscorp. It was only at your last hookup however that he mentioned a new job for you.

You adjusted the earring back to fit snugly on the jewel and more thoroughly, the mic underneath it. Your eyes scan over your attire when he speaks from behind. “I heard it connect.”

You turn around, seeing his broad backside covered by a formal jacket. He turns around, adjusting the dress shirt’s cuffs underneath. “So it should work fine.”

You hear him, understand the words he tells you, but god how could you ignore the sight in front of you? Your eyes go to what harnesses his shoulders, a cool grey metal sitting atop each one. You see how the fabric compliments the hue of his skin. He left the jacket unbuttoned, allowing your gaze to go down the buttons of his dress shirt. With further observation, you could see how tight they were in holding his body, the curves of his abdomen evident in the fit. He should wear black more often, you thought.

Miguel coughs, and your attention goes to his face, where he sends you a look. You raise your brow at him. “I heard you.”

He hums, adjusting the other cuff. “Didn’t seem like it.”

“Just seeing how your clothes fit you.”

He looks up to give you another look, looking back down to the empty hole for his cufflinks. “I don’t know why you have me wearing this…thing.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about. The pieces upon his shoulders went into an abstract shape on his upper back. It was in metallic silver, shining with an alchemy symbol edged into it. You step forward, high shoes making light thumps against his bedroom floor.

“Because you were invited to an elite party. They don’t exactly dress in something as simple as a prom date from eons ago.”

“This is still an operation, don’t you think blending in would be the right call?”

You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone, looking down at the small case of various cuff links. You study each of them as you speak. “Blending in would be a crime to them and only get you noticed more. If you stand out in a crowd who’s trying to do just as much, that’s when you’re in a sea of secrecy.”

Your fingers trail over the different shapes, textures, and images edged into the small accessories. His eyes follow, listening.

“Who are you going as?”

“Myself.”

“So you have to try, but not too hard. As just a scientist, the middle ground is what you aim for.” You hand picks out a silver pair, with triangles cut into its shape. You display them out in your palm to him with your head up to meet his gaze. “I picked out something subtle.“

“This is subtle-?”

You laugh. “Best believe this barely scratches the surface on what they consider formal fashion. With your loathing, it was the best I could do with such a lost cause.”

Miguel looks up from your palm, then down, then back— slowly grabbing the cuffs from you. He goes to put them on, but after watching him fiddle with them for a minute or two, you step closer and let your hands take over. Silence falls over the two of you, both looking down to watch your hands.

“Lost cause, huh?” He mutters in a low tone.

You glance at him, going back to pinning the cuffs. “I only ever see you naked or in high-tech spandex. You’re not exactly giving me a good impression of range.”

The cuff secures the fabrics in a final tug. Your fingertips brush over the veins of his wrist, turning it over when you finish. You look up to him, voice going just as low as his does. “…but this is a good start.”

A small smirk appears on his face and you return it with ease.

You get into the penthouse first, with Miguel arriving a couple of minutes later to not draw suspicion. Whoever was hosting the party obviously had the cash to go all out. There was a champagne tower in the corner of the vast foyer. Guests in another interacted with Alchemax’s latest in augmented reality, giving the company their oohs and ahhs. You could immediately tell that the foyer alone could cost a fortune. It held a high ceiling due to the various floors. Long glass panels gave the guests a fantastic view of Nueva York’s skyline— lit in a technological blue.

You pretend to adjust your earring in the reflection of an extravagant vase, hearing it click to life. “You inside?”

“Mhm.”

You didn’t have to see him to know that his jaw was locked shut. Miguel takes note of the guests who were in small clusters across the space. He recognized a few faces, holding the disdain from his expression for a few others. It bubbles higher when he sees Alchemax chairmen socializing about “How’s security looking?”

You take a glance around the room, huffing. “Three security men in each corner of the room…including at the hall with the stairs. What a tool.”

Miguel huffs, not still hiding his glare into the crowd.

Your lips press together in thought. “Do you remember what you’re supposed to be doing?”

“Surveillance, look for an entry point and-“

“No, what you do during surveillance.”

He frowns, resetting his jaw so that he can resist a groan. “I know what to-“

A man comes up to him, and you can hear his voice faintly through your connection. “My, that is an exquisite piece! Such detail in the marking- Do you mind telling me who the designer is?”

Miguel freezes slightly, dropping his hand from his ear. “I- it’s Vancasa-“

“-Vancada-“ You correct.

“Vancada.” Miguel clears his throat, placing his hands into his pockets. “Excuse me.”

The gentleman raises his brow before looking over his attire one last time, then giving him a cordial nod. Miguel nods back and watches him leave to speak to others. He hears you snicker in his earpiece. “Shut up.”

“I said not a word.”

The arachnid supposed he’d have to play house, much to his dismay.

He was greeted by some of his colleagues, some that he actually tolerated. They all told him the same thing: it would be a death wish to their careers not to take an invite. Miguel hated that such intelligent people were held in the grasp of such corrupt ones, including himself. Eventually, he finds himself at the silver-lit bar at one end of the room. His eyes scan the crowd, finding you. You held a flute of champagne in your hand, letting out a fluttering laugh at what the woman next to you said. He knew you, however. It didn’t come as a surprise to him that you knew how to play with the crowd. Miguel’s eyes eventually wandered, going down the attire that you picked out for yourself to the tiniest detail. The way fabric hugs your figure, a dark blue satin that gives a slight shine. Your features seemed to be highlighted in the interior’s soft lighting. He presses his lips together with a sip of his drink.

“O’Hara!”

He snapped back to reality when two men wave him over. He takes a glance at you before taking another sip of his drink and walking a few short steps.

“Bastava, Mr. Hayward.” He addresses them with a nod. “It’s an honor to be invited to such an event.”

Each of them put out their hands to shake, and he wanted to brittle both of their hands. A firm handshake would just have to do.

“It’s so good to see you again, O’Hara!”

Mr. Hayward motions between Bastava and Miguel. “Is this the one you spoke of? The lead scientist?”

Bastava nods, a smile on display. “Yes!”

He goes around the tall table they gathered at to wrap around Miguel’s broad shoulder. “Cooperate Raiders’ finest scientist in the flesh.” He knocks Miguel playfully. “And he knows how to clean up too!”

The two elites break out into a laugh, Miguel joining in with a forced one. You were right, he was an absolute lost cause. Because if he had it his way, that arm around him would be broken.

Bastava goes back to his side of the table, refilling his glass of vodka while Mr. Hayward sipped at his own whisky. “Good to see you back at the company, O’Hara. The succession rates could never be better.”

He gives them a hard smile. “It’s good to be back.”

Mr. Hayward motions his glass in a brief toast. “May you don’t run into any other mishaps this time around for your continued stay?”

Miguel gives a short toast back. His paranoia may have gotten him over his head a few times, but with the way he emphasized it— it was almost like he was referring to what happened. And with the look Mr. Hayward sends over the glass as he drinks, it almost like he wanted Miguel to know that he is.

“Excuse me.” The two men give him short nods and he parts from the table. The arachnid practically felt bile come up in his throat from his words, taking a gulp of his drink to calm himself. The strong tang sent a kick to his head, shutting his eyes tightly so he could adjust. An exhale slips past his lips while his eyelids softened. He taps quickly into his earpiece. “Checking in.”

You hear him in your ear, getting up from your seat. “See, if I didn’t have to powder myself up, we wouldn’t have this problem of ending such a lovely conversation.”

He can hear formal laughs through the microphone, faintly picking up a “Why? You have nothing to freshen up.”

Miguel did your eye rolling for you. You give the gentleman a smile and thanks. When you excuse yourself, your face falls as soon as you turn around. Miguel catches that, giving him a slight amusement. You see him through the wave of people locking eyes. He was off to the side by an extravagant plant. You walk past, eyes forward, and stop at a mirror next to the hall you both needed to go down. Both of your backs were to each other with distance put between you. You begin patting your face, and clicking your earring in the process. “This place has a lot of rooms to cover.”

Miguel hums. “I figured.”

You continue to pat down your neck. “Did you get anything from speaking to them?”

His jaw sets again. “Nothing of use.”

His brows form a firm line as his senses began to go off. There were eyes on him somewhere. Red eyes cautiously look from side to side, finding a guard staring right at him. Before either can react, a click of glasses averts their gazes to Bastava standing atop a bar stool. A slurred chuckle escapes his lips before clearing his throat. “It’s an honor to have you all here tonight. I wouldn’t have an event going any other way. Now-” His hands flick out. “-Let’s get this music going shall we?”

The crowd cheers. Marble panels on the walls trade themselves out for black ones. With a press of a button, they emit a turquoise light out to the floor. Electronic lines are built into instruments. The crowd murmurs in wonder as they begin to play themselves. People a few at a time begin to stray towards the center of the room.

The arachnid’s sense was still going haywire. Miguel gives the security a glance before coughing into the mic. “When I approach you, just go with it.”

Your face contorted. “What-?”

“Excuse me, miss?“

You turn around to his voice, both of your earpieces shutting down with being in front of each other. You look at him up and down, looking into his eyes on what his game plan was. With his back to the guard, he’s able to dart his eyes in his direction and then back for you to catch on. His hand goes out between you both. “I couldn’t help but watch you the entire night, would you like to dance?”

You look down at his hand, then up at his figure. Your smile of amusement slips into one of formality. Placing your hand in his, you say in a hushed tone. “I would love to.”

Before he turns, he gives you a look, almost as if to tell you to behave. He immediately sensed the amusement under your facade. Miguel’s arm curls around your own, the build of his upper arm brushing against your own. You take your walk to the dance floor with a quick glance to see what others were doing. The music was light, tones of classical filling the air. You follow suit, turning to place a hand on his shoulder. The large of your hand envelopes your hip, snaking your other hand into his. Your eyes were at your feet to follow the steps in your head.

His mouth clicks. “Look at me.”

Your head shoots up in surprise, immediately going to slight your brow.

“Keep your eyes on me and I’ll lead. Think we got eyes on us.”

You take a glance at the room and then back to him. “From where?”

“My left.”

He shifts your dance, going in the motions of steps so you can see who he’s talking about. A guard from his behind looks in your direction from the corner of your eye. You did as the man in front of you asked, only using your peripherals to keep most of your focus on him. Miguel’s eyes are fully on you.

“We’ll have to go down the hall.” You say in a low voice.

His fingers press into your lower back to decrease your space, going along with the front of that he didn’t hear you. As if his senses weren’t already on ten.

“No choice?” He asks.

“Not seeing any other way around it. We’re going to have to get that guy to move.”

“Fantástico.” He mutters sarcastically, switching your perspective around once again with his lead in the dance. You can’t help but take a glance down at both of your feet, realizing just how in sync he is with his steps. “You’re a pretty good dancer.”

His face contorts to confusion, blasphemy even. “You think this is good?”

You shrug. “I’ve met a lot of people with two left feet. Terrible crowd for the club scene.”

Your jest earns you a short huff. “This isn’t even music to really dance to, much less just a step around with feet.”

“Classical is timeless to those who hold onto it. Including snobs with their heads up their ass.”

He grunts with distaste before a pondering moment of silence falls over you both. You watch him take a look at your feet as both of you follow his motions. “Maybe I’ll show you what the real stuff is.”

His mutter allows for something unknown to stir in your chest. The hand that grips his gives him a taunting squeeze. “I challenge you to.”

“To teach you a thing or two?”

Your head tilts. “Who said I couldn’t dance?”

He goes to speak, but your eyes cutting away from him stops him. He notices quickly how you spot something, the cogs slowly turning in your head.

“The one by the hall.”

“Mhm?”

“There’s one way we can get him to move.”

You surprise him by moving in your direction, turning him to your previous position where he faces the holographic instruments. Your eyes watch his face slowly draw his conclusion, looking down at you with an affirming nod.

Once you’ve secured a drink in your hand, you play out the routine of a drunken beauty. You pull out the charming smile a few giggles wandering about your eyes, catch the closest person to the panels and your foot goes behind theirs. And with a swift motion make it all seems like an accident and their drink spills onto the holographic base. It shocks with electricity, causing the crowd to gasp. You let out a dramatic gasp of your own. Miguel was right behind you as he put his hand over his mouth. Bastava quickly notices how the music ends up properly, and it goes on to address the crowd. “People people not to worry, we have mechanics on hand for this!”

His guests give him a small clap. He relishes it in full before turning to your targeted guard and signaling him to get assistance. As the guard leaves, you both look at each other in a quick glance before going into fits of fake giggles. People step back from the panels, creating a cluster of distractions, and the both of you slip down the hall with ease.

As a pair, you take cautious steps down the hallway. Each of your eyes darts left and right, looking for a space that could remotely resemble an office. Miguel was on a determined path, the sooner he could get this done, the sooner he didn't have to feel like he was suffocating.

“Wait-” You stop him. He turns around quickly, looking to the same door you do— noticeably with a keypad right beside it. You both share a look, stepping into the door. Miguel looks over his shoulder to keep watch while you pull that square glass tool from the fabric of your attire. You press a few hologram buttons then face it towards the keypad. It takes a scan of it, lighting with a projection of which numbers had the most fingerprints. The more you could do with that thing, the more curious you were about the arachnid hero.

The keypad clicks with a green light and with a part of your attire in your hand, you open the door. To your surprise the space was normal looking compared to the heights Bastava would go for extravagance. A glass panel wall was behind the desk. To the left were large cabinets, and even enough space for two lounge chairs. Miguel goes to the right at the tech board whirling to life at his presence. All of Alchemax at his fingertips if he wished. His hand itched to take control of it but he had to remain on task, making sure that their fall would be from a higher drop. You catch how he sighs with frustration, turning back to you, and hovering over the computer. “Another drive?”

“Another drive.” He says, practically trying to convince himself.

You eye him up and down, giving him a short nod and turning back to the computer. “You don’t think there’d be any physical files we’d miss?”

Miguel scoffs. “I doubt it.”

Thanks to another scan of fingerprints, your go through two attempts to finally get the password. From there you slide out of the way for Miguel to take over. As he does so, you go to the door to keep watch. Your eyes keep to the crack you let open, ears catching the clicks of the keywords and various sounds. One sounded promising with a BING!

“How long?” You ask with your eyes still on the hallway.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Be fucking for real-”

“Anyone out there?”

“No-”

“-then shut the hell up. I’ll make it go as fast as I can.”

You snicker under your breath. “Shocker.”

You hear him exhale through his nose.

Fifteen minutes pass with smooth sailing. You have yet to see a passerby to the stairs. Miguel keeps his focus on the computer for a long while, leaving you in silence, until his head perks up abruptly. So abruptly, that you whip your head around in his direction. His face scrunches. when you turn your head around, you see what might be the cause: Bastava, coming up the stairs and heading in your direction.

You turn to Miguel. “How long?” His eyes go back to the computer “Five, maybe three minutes?”

You cursed under your breath, your body starting to fill with tension. Your eyes go back out to the crack in the door. Bastava stumbles slightly, but he doesn’t lose his way.

Your tone shifts to urgency. “Miguel-”

“I’m working on it.”

With one more head turn, you see that he’s only three pieces away. You feel your heart drop quickly, shutting the door as quietly and as quickly as possible.

“Shocking-” You don’t finish the curse when something tugs your arm. Your head whips around to get only a split second of Miguel pulling you towards an opened large cabinet. Taking you both inside, he shuts the door just in time for his senses to pick up the click of the keypad.

You control your breathing the best you can after the rush of adrenaline. Your chests graze each other each time you quietly breathe. There’s a stumbling of feet, a chair sliding against the marble floor that causes you two to wince. Miguel recognizes Bastava’s voice. “Hey there, gorgeous…no no, I’m not busy at all. Just want you..to come by…maybe after the party, eh?”

You roll your eyes, turning your head in the direction of the call to hear any sign of a goodbye. Miguel was doing the same, brows furrowing suddenly. As soon as you turn your neck something immediately takes hold of him. His nostrils fill with your scent, something new, he caught. It had to be that or perhaps his senses being on eleven ever since he heard Bastava coming up the steps. He closes his eyes, the scent envelops him whole with a tilt of his head.

“What are you wearing?”

The question snaps your head his way in an instant. You look him up and down. “Under-?”

“Your fragrance.” He said with a hard tone. You question if there was restraint in his voice. Your eyes linger on him before answering. “It’s new…picked it up for tonight.”

He hums quietly. Scarlet eyes still bore into your being even when you turn to listen for Bastava. The chairman was still on the phone. Something still along the lines of convincing someone to come over— Miguel couldn’t process his words, much less comprehend them. He was tuning his words out and into your heartbeat instead. His felt like it was quickening to your pace— a light thump loose of the threads of adrenaline.

You turn your head back, startled at how his eyes look. They were almost…carnal…in a way that you only knew how.

Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip, causing him to let out a low “Don’t.”

He catches your eyes in a heated gaze. It didn’t help how close you both were. He wouldn’t have to move much to wrap around you. Your breath quickens, latching onto the sight of his parted lips. He does the same with yours, breath even heavier.

Bastava’s tone picks up. “Well, what can I do to convince you, baby? Just because we aren’t public doesn’t mean…” He scoffs with abrasiveness. “…Yes, it doesn’t matter- we’ve gone over this-”

He’s in an argument now, you know that much from that point. Everything goes in and out with your focus shifting entirely on Miguel. His eyes go lower, not to your lips anymore, but to your neck. His tongue suddenly felt *dry*, nose taking inhale after inhale of you and taking him further down the rabbit hole. Your eyes never leave him when an arm sneaks around your lower back to pull you into his body. You meet his head to line it with your own. With each of your breathing tickling the other’s face, you feel how worked he is.

Your breath hitches when he shoves his face into your neck. His air is hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your hand goes to the back of his head in case you slip. His feet shuffle mere centimeters to place his other hand on the wall by your head.

“Carajo..” He mutters against you, head flooded by your scent. Now that he was fully surrounded by it, his senses soothed— barely, but enough to not raise suspicion. Your heartbeat was picking up, thumping inside his head. You feel something wet graze your neck in a slow lick, making you inhale tightly.

You’re trying to listen out for the man outside but it was growing difficult with the way Miguel was nosing your neck, as if there was any space left he had to get rid of. Every now and then, his lips brush against your neck and makes you shift under him. The hand on your back adds pressure.

“Thought you could handle me.”

“I can handle you just…” You let out a shaky exhale. “…fine.”

Miguel’s huff turns into a muffled sigh.

“…See that wasn’t so hard, cupcake. You get your sweet little ass over here after the party…Eleven…bye.”

You hear Bastava take a large gulp then sigh. A few steps go past you, making you both hold your breath. The steps stop for a few minutes then fade off to the other side of the room. You hear the door open and then shut, but you knew better than to rush out. You steady your breathing to become background noise to Miguel’s senses. He could still hear your heart calming and now, the steps of the chairman’s dress shoes echoing down his vast hall. He only eases when he knows Bastava is going down the stairs. “We’re good.”

He turns his head to be met with your nose brushed against his. Your eyes were big looking into his own. He knew you were wondering what the hell came over him. The one thing you did know was that all of what he was doing wasn’t to start anything but to give himself restraint.

Miguel swallows before you both leave the cabinet without another word.

Leaving the scene felt like the easiest part of the whole night. You two pretend to giggle drunkenly together back into the foyer, just in time to for Bastava to close the night. You slip into the leaving crowd to waddle alongside them. And since you felt eyes on you, you knew Miguel wasn’t too far behind.

You look out at Neuva’s brightly colored building from your passenger window. The car was heavy with silence, you could practically feel the weight of it right in the pit of your stomach. His hand on your thigh *certainly* didn’t help. The arachnid kept his eyes on the road, only keeping focus by kneading your flesh. Miguel glances at you through the interior mirror. Your lips were slightly obscured as you rested your chin in your palms but he could imagine them all the same.

Taking notice of the scenery, your exit flies past you at a moment’s notice.

“Not going back to my-?”

“No.”

You turn to catch his eyes in the mirror, quiet in both of your stares. Your lids lower. “…work-related?”

He turns his gaze back to the road and squeezes your thigh in his grip.

“…No.”

taglist: @manchuria @mezzke @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @deputy-videogamer @vegas-writing-den @m150-50up @simplysolo @timotheesrealgf @thecityofspareparts @miguelsfangs (dunno why it won’t let me tag you guys, trying to figure it out!)

#writing #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #he ate my heart #spiderman across the spiderverse

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