#HE DESERVES A BREAK | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

constantcrisis19 · 1 year ago

Text

Spoiled Rotten

Miguel O'Hara x GN S/O

AN: The results of the poll are in, the people have spoken, and I am here to deliver as promised. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,545

You trotted down the impersonal halls of the Spider Society HQ, the styrofoam container that you had in your hands held close to your chest in order to avoid upending the contents if anyone had the misfortune of running into you as you dexterously weaved through the throng of spider-people filling the building.

You nodded a quick greeting at any of the other spider-people that happened to make eye contact with you as you passed, the crowd predictably thinning out until it was only you creeping through the halls the closer you came to your destination.

You slowed your hurried pace when a familiar door came into view, the obstruction opening with a low hiss without you even having to touch the keypad located next to the door frame since Miguel had demanded that you hand over your dimensional travel watch so he could add an upgrade, an ID that the camera above the entrance to his office could scan and recognize so you would be allowed entry with little to no effort.

And, as far as you knew, you were the only person to receive this particular upgrade.

The room beyond the door was dimly lit, the lighting unnervingly akin to what you’d see in a horror movie, and you cracked a smile at the thought of Miguel keeping his lab and adjoining office dark in an attempt to scare off any spider-people that might’ve been brave enough to grace his presence. Though, even as humorous as the thought was, you knew that the true reason behind Miguel’s lighting choices was due to his sensitive eyes.

You heard the door slide shut behind you as you moved further in, carefully maneuvering through the mess of wires and half-finished projects with a grace that pretty much all spider-people were endowed with upon being bitten in order to reach the office, where Miguel spent his every waking moment, seemingly intent on working himself into an early grave.

You followed the sound of low muttering, the indistinct noise becoming more intelligible when you stepped into the large space that everyone had dubbed ‘the office’. There you were able to confirm that the hushed voice you had picked up on was, in fact, Miguel, who was currently complaining under his breath in his native tongue as he aggressively swiped at the holographic screens in front of him.

You stopped at the base of the platform that Miguel used as a workstation and patiently waited to see if he would notice your presence, but when it seemed that the man was too absorbed in his work to realize that you were there, you let loose a single sharp whistle that echoed off the high ceiling to gain his attention.

You had to resist the urge to grin when you saw Miguel’s broad shoulders subtly draw up at the abrupt burst of sound, which was as good as a full-blown flinch when it came to Miguel, before the man turned away from the hovering screens in order to level you with an unimpressed look.

"What do you want?" Miguel barked and you raised a brow at his rather hostile greeting, your gaze scanning over his tense figure in search of the reason behind why he was so uptight. After just a few seconds into your examination, it became pretty clear that something was bothering the man, as evidenced by Miguel’s hands, which were balled up into tight fists, and how his narrow eyes looked more red than their usual brown under the low light of the room.

"Just wanted to check in. Things have been pretty hectic these past few days." You replied with a casual shrug and you watched Miguel’s shoulders heave with a deep sigh before he carelessly raked his fingers through his greasy hair, causing it to stand up at all sorts of awkward angles.

"I don’t need you to ‘check in’ with me." He snarled defensively, crossing his arms across his chest as he glared down at you, and your lips twisted into a concerned frown at his disheveled state.

“So… you're telling me that you've voluntarily stepped away from those screens in the last 24 hours to take a break and eat something?" You asked dubiously, already knowing the answer was a resounding 'no' before he’d even responded just going by his general appearance.

"I don't need breaks! I work just fine on little to no sleep, thank you very much!" Miguel predictably snapped, the man scowling at you as if he thought that you were an absolute idiot, but you didn’t even bother taking offense to his attitude since you knew that he had a tendency of lashing out when he was frustrated due to his lack of a healthy outlet.

“Well that's a damn shame. I guess these homemade chorizo tacos are just gonna go to waste if you're not gonna eat them." You sighed dramatically, staring forlornly down at the styrofoam container that you had so heroically protected during the journey to Miguel, the food inside still warm if the heat wafting off the take out box was any indication.

You resisted the urge to grin triumphantly when some of the aggression in Miguel’s expression and stance eased at the mention of a warm meal, the man’s eyebrows rising as his gaze shifted down to stare unblinkingly at the container that you had purposefully drawn his attention to.

"You made me food?" He asked slowly as he stepped closer to the edge of the platform, and you found the way that he was trying and failing to hide his obvious interest kind of adorable. Almost like Miguel was a toddler who was trying and failing to stay upset even after having been offered their favorite candy.

"Fine. I'll eat. But I'm going back to work as soon as I’m done and you are going to go do something productive that doesn’t involve pestering me.” Miguel begrudgingly acquiesced, the smile that you’d been trying to repress blooming across your face when the man motioned for you to join him on the platform, and you wasted no time freeing up a hand in order to shoot a web at one of the beams running across the entirety of ceiling before launching yourself up into the air, landing gracefully next to him.

"Of course." You agreed quickly, practically shoving the food into his hands before grabbing a hold of his narrow hips and manhandling the man toward his barely used swivel chair and forcing Miguel down onto the plush leather seat.

Miguel went along with your antics easily enough -and if that wasn’t indisputable proof of how utterly exhausted he felt, then you didn’t know what was- the man deciding to forgo giving you a firm scolding that would go in one ear and out the other in favor of opening the lid in order to let the delicious scent of avocado crema and spicy paprika wash over the two of you.

You closed your eyes and inhaled, the corner of your mouth ticking up as you nodded approvingly at the mouth-watering tacos, the crisp corn tortillas stuffed with a combination of meat, guacamole, onions and cilantro. You were actually quite proud of the end result after having spent several hours in the headquarters kitchen slaving away over the stove.

You looked out of the corner of your eye in order to gauge Miguel’s reaction, taking note of the way his eyes widened at the enticing aroma before he turned his incredulous stare onto you.

"You made these yourself?" He asked, his tone a little more dubious than you would've liked. You didn’t cook all that often -usually opting to go for something easier like take out or grabbing something from the cafeteria at HQ if Miguel wasn’t cooking- but when you did decide to take over making the two of you meals, then you put all your effort into making it good.

"Sure did. Only the best for you, babe." You said with a bright smile, watching in real time as Miguel’s cautious expression gradually transitioned into one of pure delight, before moving around to the back of his chair in order to take up residence behind him.

You brought your hands up to rest them on the tight line of his shoulders, carefully pressing your thumbs into the thick muscle in order to soothe the tension built up there, and Miguel relaxed under your touch as he delicately picked up one of the tacos before taking a bite.

"I was just going to work through lunch, but this is so much better…" Miguel praised after he’d swallowed, the man letting loose a pleased little hum with his next bite as he slumped further down into his chair, the styrofoam container held firmly in his lap as he ate.

"I'm glad you like it." You replied genuinely, lifting one of your hands away from Miguel's shoulders -the man protesting with a low grunt of displeasure- in order to trace the line of Miguel's jaw as you shifted your focus to the man's back, urging him to scoot forward to the edge of his chair before pressing your thumbs into the space between his shoulder blades with firm, unrelenting pressure.

You felt a shiver ripple down Miguel’s spine, the man subtly squirming in his seat as he resisted the urge to pull away from the deep ache, before calming when the taunt muscles in his back loosened, the pain turning into an indulgent pleasure.

“Feel nice?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that you had taken care to develop in the office, and Miguel made a noise that you chose to interpret as lazy agreement.

You moved your hands away from his back as Miguel popped the last bit of his final taco into his mouth and leaned forward, the man turning his head in order to give you a questioning look, his brown eyes widening in surprise when you leaned over his shoulder and pressed a light kiss onto his bulging cheek.

His throat made an audible click as he quickly swallowed, the man closing the now empty container and tossing it aside to deal with later before spinning his swivel chair around to face you, catching your wrist as you turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked accusingly as he used his gentle grip to coax you closer, pulling you in until you were standing between his spread thighs, a small smile gracing your lips at his sudden clingy behavior, which was endearing and amusing in equal measure.

“You’re done eating.” You explained vaguely, and when Miguel simply gave you a blank look, you continued with a soft sigh. “You said that you wanted me to make myself scarce once you’d finished your food?” You elaborated with a raised brow, Miguel frowning at the reminder of his earlier demands, the regret and frustration that he was feeling practically advertised across his face like a flashing neon sign.

“You can stay. If you want.” Miguel quickly tacked the last bit on to the end of the sentence, releasing his hold on your wrist, and you were barely able to hold back from rolling your eyes at his unnecessary backtracking.

"Oh, so the bossman is feeling gracious today. Aren't I special?" You mused sarcastically as you threw your arms over the man’s wide shoulders and playfully tangled your fingers into the thick hair at the nape of his neck, the affectionate petting doing wonders toward chasing away Miguel’s uncertainty.

“Brat.” Miguel groused under his breath without any real heat, both of you knowing damn well that you would pick up on his muttered complaint because of your enhanced hearing, and you swatted the back of his head hard enough to make the man wince in retaliation.

You allowed him to pout for a moment before grabbing a firm hold of the hair that you had been previously brushing through and pulling him into a passionate kiss, Miguel immediately matching the pace you set and pressing up into the contact with an eager groan that you echoed when your bottom lip caught on one of his protruding fangs, a sharp sting radiating outward from the small cut as the delicate skin split.

“Ouch.” You said mildly as the familiar coppery tang of blood hit your tongue, and you drew away from Miguel just enough to lightly press a finger to the injury, the pad of your prodding finger coming away wet.

“Sorry.” Miguel apologized with a concerned frown as he guided you backwards so he that could push himself to his feet and approach his workstation in order to open one of the numerous drawers and root around inside, pulling out a package of gauze that he ripped open and placed gently against your split lip, soaking up the bead of crimson that had welled up from the tiny knick.

“It’s fine. I barely even feel it.” You assured as you reached up to tap the back of his hand in a wordless bid for him to move his hand out of the way, Miguel obediently letting go of the pad of gauze in order to allow you to take over before moving back over to the monitors, which were flashing with an influx of messages and alerts.

You ungracefully flopped down onto the chair that Miguel had vacated and watched the man’s turned back as he turned his attention back to his job, wasting no time tapping away at the holograms to respond to some crisis or another, but you stayed right where you were, lounging in the comfortable leather seat and using your foot to spin yourself in unhurried circles.

And, while most people would have felt that Miguel was being callous and insensitive because of the speed at which he’d gone from being involved in such an intimate moment to working again, you knew from personal experience that, despite how invested in his work Miguel might’ve seemed upon first glance, the moment that you moved to leave the man would immediately inquire as to what you were doing and most likely prompt you to stay in his own awkward, gruff way.

Miguel had never been very good with words, the man often saying one thing while his body language said something completely different, but you didn’t need him to give voice to how much he enjoyed your company since you could tell regardless since you knew what to look for.

You saw how his previously tense shoulders and back were now relaxed -his movements confident yet leisurely as he slowly combed through the pile of work he’d accumulated over the duration of his quick break- which was a drastic improvement from the spastic state that you’d found him in, and how you’d occasionally meet his eyes in the reflection of the glowing screens, catching him in the act of sneakily checking in on you.

The memory of Miguel’s sly way of making sure you were still where he’d left you had a smile spreading across your face, causing the cut on your bottom lip to reopen, but you ignored the barely there pain in favor of just basking in the tranquil atmosphere between the two of you.

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