#Miguel O’Hara spiderman 2099

[lostalioth]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐲

→ premise: miguel considered himself a very put together and composed man until your hands were on him, he lost himself.

→ pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, handjob, overstimualtion, begging, miguel switches between spanish and english a lot

→ a/n: kinktober 10

Miguel was laid back with his legs widened to accommodate you sitting in front of him on your knees on the bed. He had been so over worked all day, you wanted to give him a little stress relief.

That was about three orgasms ago and he was a blabbering, needy, overstimulated mess now.

“Bebe, mhmm-mireda slow down please please” Miguel rambles out breathlessly, his brain on overdrive as his words switch between English and Spanish and his hips buck up into your hand. Your grip on his cock tightens as you speed up your movements, rubbing your thumb through his leaking tip when you go up. Your saliva and spit coating and dripping down his shaft from having him in your mouth earlier makes your hand glide along easier.

“Ay coño, amor ahh~ Por favor bebe i can't take it, no more” he cries out his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips thrust up and squirm. “You can give me one more baby come on Miggy” you slow down your movements just for him to catch his breath. “Just one more orgasm my love” you explain smiling sweetly at him, though he swears he heard those exact words before his last one. Miguel’s head was far too fuzzy and his cock throbbing too much from both his impending orgasm as well as the overstimulation to know if he was remembering correctly.

“Mi vida, Bebe mmm~ no puedo, s’to much, feels s’good but too much” he whines, all his words slurring together, his balls tighten like he’s gonna cum and yet he feels as though you’ve already drained it all out of him three orgasms ago. His eyes screw shut as his head falls back agaisnt the plush pillows behind him, hips still fucking up still into your hand as if they had a mind of their own. His cock aching and extra sensitive and yet still stiff as a rock, he’s barely gone soft this whole time as your hand hasn't left him for a minute. Your hands on his body, rubbing along his tip and shaft felt heavenly and painful at the same time and yet he makes no move to stop you. “I promise Miggy, one more baby, you're my big strong man you can do it” the latter half of your sentence was intended to be taken as you mocking him. He knew this, the position he was in, whining, panting, letting out strings of Spanish curse words that blend together with his English ones. He was a pathetic mess right now, not the typical strong well composed man he always was. He could care less however, this is what your touch does to him and it feels far too good to fight back against your teasing words.

”Gonna cum Bebe, please let me cum amor, necesito, fuck- hurts s’good” he moans out, his hips flattering in their synced rymth with your hand, now thrusting desperatly for your hand to milk the last drops of cum even left in his twitching overstimualted body. “Cum baby, cum for me” you command softly, watching as his face contorted in pain and pleasure mixed together as his high crashed over him hard. Long ropes of cum shoot out, spilling over your hand and even land on his chest and thighs. He lets out some morph of a whiny sigh of relief when finally after what has felt like hours, your hand moves off his hyper sensitive cock as it twitches and softens against his cum stained stomach.

→ a/n: sorry this is hella short, i have also never written much for miguel other than a wip i never posted nor even finished from a year ago soo also sorry for errors in the spanish, the little I know is rusty so

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐢𝐫

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (LMAOOO)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-Divorce, shared custody, injury and stitching in the beginning, heavy angst, arguing, Jealous!Miguel, fall out, mentions of infidelity and pregnancy, EVENTUALLY SMUT, PIV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating (we’re getting nasty nasty), brief breeding kink

𝐀/𝐍: This is inspired by @yougavemeyourheartyouknow baby daddy AU. I didn’t think this one would get this lengthy but here we are I guess.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Miguel hissed when he felt the rubbing alcohol being smeared onto the wound across his abdomen with a cotton pad. A sharp scent of disinfectant wove through the air, tingling his nostrils and it mingled with the faint aroma of coffee you both had earlier.

There he was, perched on the sofa in his ex-wife’s living room, hair damp from sweat as you patch him up after another mission as Spider-Man — an event he never anticipated would happen to him at two in the morning.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he spattered out as he felt another stinging wave from the alcohol. You gaze up at him from his wound that you were focused on before you spoke.

“Sorry, I thought you had a higher pain tolerance,” you said, dabbing the wound gently.

“I do, but that doesn’t give you license to be rough with me like that,” he mumbled. Despite the divorce, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You both remained friends as your marriage never worked out between the two of you. You would patch him up whenever he needed it— he would rather have you take care of him just to feel your touch than have a random nurse.

As the blood cleared from the open cut, you could see the gash more visibly now. A villain's blade had slashed across him deep enough to leave a large wound that won’t heal on its own.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” you got up from the seat to go to the bathroom before coming back with your kit. Miguel sank further into the plush cushion of the sofa, feeling the fabric yield under his weight.

His heart twisted with a mix of guilt and gratitude as he watched you tend to his wound. He grimaced slightly at the pinch of the needle on his skin but your hands were delicate, careful not to further damage the delicate area.

He sat still motionless as his eyes were glued to you. It was easy to admire you and how concentrated you were right now. You were always nurturing and wanted the best for people you cared about. Your brows furrowed as you kept working on the cut.

“Jesus Miguel…” you whispered, taking in the sheer size of his cut.

“What?” He asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. “It’s not that bad, you know I’ve had worse. You’ve treated worse than this,”

Even if you were divorced and not together by law, he still cherished these moments with you. You were still the same woman he loved.

Watching you fix him up made him feel like things were almost back to normal again— that he was home and his wife was here to get him back on his feet. Until reality would set in.

“I know. It’s almost like you’re testing your own durability,” there was an obvious worry etched in your voice as you were finishing up stitching his wound. It made his stomach churn with silent longing.

“That cut? You really think that’s a test for durability?” He arched his brow inquisitively. He knew it was a big gash but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“That was nothing more than me not paying attention. But this one however…" he pointed to his bruised shoulder, "that was a test for durability. I got smashed through a wall,”

You peered up at him momentarily, a flicker of disturbance in your eyes, before you silently resumed his last stitches.

Silence fell between you as the faint hum of the city filtered through the window, punctured by the occasional sirens and car horns.

“All done,” you announced, leaning back to examine your work.

He sat up from the couch carefully, making sure not to put too much strain on the fresh stitches. “Gracias,”

“Don’t forget to drink your fluids,” you reminded him.

“Sí sí. You sound like an overprotective mother,”

“Well…I just so happen to have a daughter,” you gave a soft smile. Out of everything that had happened in your marriage, he would forever be grateful that you gave him a daughter.

Watching Gabriella grow was a profound blessing that he would never take for granted. Fatherhood had made him learn a lot about himself that he never knew he could harbour, fostering a newfound level of patience and empathy within him.

And now, as Gabriella was approaching her fifteenth birthday, Miguel couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly the years had passed. He would soon be preparing for her quinceañera with you, a milestone that seemed to arrive in a blink of an eye.

“And do you tell her to drink her fluids as much as you tell her papá?” He asked in a slight tease.

“You know I do and I tell her to eat her greens,” you replied, matching his lighthearted tone.

His heart soared at the fond memories. You were always an amazing mother, a role that bloomed naturally from you as soon as you gave birth to your daughter and held her in your arms for the first time.

He didn’t think he could fall for you more until he saw you nurse your baby for the first time with a tender look in your eyes. He hated the fact that he wasn’t there to witness those precious moments of you bonding with your daughter enough when he had the chance to.

“I’m surprised Gabi hasn’t picked up any of your bad habits,”

“Bad habits like what?”

“You know…the irresponsible stuff,” he chuckled, clearly getting a rise out of you. “You should’ve seen her last weekend. She called the guy you’re seeing a ‘cabrón’”

An uneasy tension knotted in chest after he broached the subject of your date, almost like he was dreading to hear what you were going to say.

He was never thrilled about the topic, just as he never was when you spoke about anything to do with other men. However, he didn’t expect to see your face drop, like the topic hit a raw nerve.

“She said that?” You voice was hesitant and he noticed shoulders slump and your brows furrowed.

Either you were uncomfortable with Gabriella’s candid remark towards your date or you didn’t like that she was cursing at her age.

“She did. Look I heard what she said but she’s probably just saying that to sound grown up. She is a teenager and the hormones make them go nuts,”

“Sure I guess,”

“Try not to take it personally,” he reached out to hold your hand and tried to reassure you, even if hearing Gabriella cursing wasn’t the best thing a father should let slide.

“I’m not upset about that,” you droned.

“Your tone says otherwise,”

“There’s something I want to discuss with you,” Your demeanor shifted into something more serious and you were avoiding eye contact with him which made him uneasy. “If I’m going to keep dating him, I can’t patch you up like this anymore,”

Miguel swallowed thickly, processing what you had just told him. “You’re not meaning…”

“Yes,”

He felt an uncomfortable pull in his gut and his heart felt like it was about the leap out of his throat. “You can’t be serious,”

“It won’t be fair on him if I’m still friends with the man I was married to,” Miguel couldn’t help but scoff at that, but he couldn’t call it stupid.

A small part of him knew that you were right. How could any man feel safe when his new woman was still close with her ex-husband, her ex who still loved and pined for her? But he wasn’t going to stand for that.

“And since when did I care if it’s fair on him?” He snapped back.

For a split second, Miguel could feel the cool platinum of the wedding band that he still hasn’t removed from his finger. It served him a bitter reminder that he was still not over you. He hoped you wouldn’t bring it up, especially now.

“This isn’t just about you,” there was a sharpness in your tone when you said that, whether it was intentional or not it still cut deep. You continued to pour salt on the wound as you added on, “Don’t act like you didn’t sign those divorce papers too,”

“Stop it, don’t you think I know that. I was naive to think that a divorce was going to solve anything,” Those damn divorce papers. Thinking about it made the knife that was already stabbing his heart twist further.

If there was anything he regretted the most in life, it would be sitting down in the courtroom and signing those papers that finalised your parting.

Now, he had to watch you go on a date with someone else because he pushed you away. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration knotting in his chest.

“You know why we had to file the divorce,” you said.

Miguel’s mind went spiraling and he wanted to sink into the floor. He was fully aware that he was the one to blame for this. The long hours he spent away as Spider-Man, the growing distance between the two of you— it all led to a rift that tore you apart.

He initiated the divorce, convinced it was for the best. Your marriage was standing on its last leg and he didn’t want to waste your time.

Even if there was no bad blood between the two of you and you decided to stick to being friends after, it didn’t make things hurt any less. Miguel still craved more of you and he missed his chance when he had it.

But now the consequences of his decision were biting him in the ass and the prospect of his biggest fear was coming to fruition. He couldn’t stop you from dating again and he hated it.

“Even if we do stick to being friends, we’re going to be more distant than we were before,” you further explained.

Miguel stared silently as you stood up from the couch and kept going. Each word uttered from you was punctuated with agony that was piercing his heart. “You’re not going to be able to have me like you used to Miguel, not the way that you want,”

He knew he was starting to be selfish now and he had no right to be jealous when he failed you as a husband. He was fully aware of the point you were making and the logic behind it but he still refused to let it go.

Finally he spoke after a long while, “I’d rather have a part of you than none of you,”

“Do you truly believe that you’ll be satisfied with that in the long run?”

Realistically, no. But he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He didn’t want to be a bystander in your life and witness you bounce back and love someone again that wasn’t him.

But despite that, he still wanted to stay because there was still a small part of him that was grasping onto straws, hoping that you will take him back and you’ll be his again.

But how long could he accept the scraps of you that you’d throw at him before it got too unbearable? It was ironic— the main cause of his wounds that you just patched up right now, the life of Spider-Man, was the reason why you both drifted apart.

“If it wasn’t for our shared custody that’s tying us down, I would’ve said we should’ve cut off a long time ago,”

Those words hurt more than Miguel let on. He rose from the couch and limped towards you, hissing from the sting of the wounds. “Don’t say that, I’m the father of your child—”

“And that’s all you’ll ever be,” Miguel winced internally.

He didn’t know what hurt more, you interjecting or the fact that you only saw him as a co-parent to your daughter. But the latter was definitely going to have a lasting effect on him.

He was going to reach out for you, but you turned your back to him. He had nothing to say now and this could be the last time you would be this warm and open with him.

Without uttering another word, he tapped on his watch to engage his suit before moving towards the window. A moment before he shot his webs to hoist himself away, you spoke one last time.

“You have Gabi for next weekend.”

He merely nodded at your words before he disappeared into the night, swallowing his frustration and disappointment. His web shooters echoed through the streets.

His mood drastically changed the moment he left your comforting apartment to the chaos of Nueva York— it was almost palpable.

His web shot out, catching onto the building he was aiming for. He landed against the wall with a gentle thud before he turned back to look at your apartment from afar. This was going to be the last time he could swing by your apartment through your window freely and his heart was already aching for you.

~

Miguel headed up to your apartment and rapped at the door. It didn’t take long before he saw Gabriella answering the door to him.

She had a duffle bag full of her clothes for the weekend and her phone was in one hand. He gave her a warm smile and kissed her forehead.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied casually.

Miguel’s line of sight went past Gabi and further into the house. You weren’t anywhere near the door.

He didn’t know what it was but Miguel felt a pull that was coaxing him to go to you. For a moment, he was conflicted whether or not he should see you. But eventually he caved in to his desires and stepped into the house.

“Where’s you mom?” Miguel asked.

“She’s in the bathroom taking a shower, I think,” Gabi replied before her attention was drawn into her phone screen.

“Stay here. I’ll be back,” Miguel padded over to the bathroom with cautious steps. It had been six months since your friendship had broken off, and he didn’t know what to expect when you saw him in your home.

His palms were sweating, and he could feel every pulse in his body. Part of him thrived off the anticipation that was building up to the moment but the other part was screaming at him to turn back and just leave you alone.

The bathroom door was ajar but the shower wasn’t running. He could see from the gap that you definitely weren’t taking a shower.

He found you sitting in the walk in shower with your knees tucked into your chest. You were wearing a tank top and some sweatpants. He pushed open the door further so he could get a better look at you.

Your eyes looked foggy but he could still see the redness around the rim from crying moments earlier. It almost looked like you were in a dissociative state, and for a moment, he thought you didn’t acknowledge him until you spoke.

“Gabi’s stuff is at the front door,” you mumbled. Your voice sounded hoarse and wavering as if it took extra effort for you to speak.

“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, keeping his response short so he wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. The last thing he wanted was to open the door to more problems.

“So why are you here?”

Miguel didn’t know how to respond without eliciting a negative reaction from you. He didn’t want to tell you the full truth, but he also couldn’t think of an excuse for your question either.

He couldn’t leave your question hanging longer than it already has, so he opened his mouth to speak, even if he didn’t know what to say “I…was just checking Gabi got everything,”

The nagging urge to reach out to you, to touch you, was getting harder to ignore with each passing second he was in your presence.

Seeing you this vulnerable in the bathroom was tormenting and it was not something he was expecting to see. He didn’t know how to inquire about your well-being without sounding invasive.

“Are you okay?”

Clearly not. You shook your head mutely. At least you were being honest. Miguel cleared his throat before he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s pathetic,”

“It’s not pathetic if it got you crying like that,”

Seeing you on the bathroom floor like this sent him back fifteen years earlier where you were in the same position, except you didn’t look so ghostly.

Both of you were holding each end of the pregnancy test, nervousness etched in both of your faces as you anticipated for the results.

Miguel gave your hand a reassuring squeeze feeling the clammy warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes remained glued to the test in front of you, time seemingly slowing to a crawl.

The moment you saw the double lines appear, you broke down into tears and sobbed into his chest from pure joy. Miguel’s heart stuttered as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

The news that you were going to be parents cremated his love for you even more. You couldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t release him that night— your grip was like titanium.

He didn’t mind carrying you to bed though, the weight of you in his arms grounding him in a sense of euphoria that washed over him now.

Seeing you now, so different yet so achingly familiar, brought a lump to his throat. He heard your voice again and was brought back to the present.

“He…” the word was lodged in your throat. Miguel could feel a tinge of rage brewing in him with a mixture of his protective instincts. He knew you were talking about your current boyfriend the moment the word left your lips.

“He cheated,” you stated. Miguel's anger flared and he balled his fist tightly, struggling to contain the rolling emotions threatening to spill out. Even if he didn’t show his anger outwardly, you still knew him well enough to pick up on the signs.

“Please I’m begging you, don’t do anything rash. I’ll heal from this, but the last thing I want is you getting involved,” he heard your plea, and seeing your upset expression made him push aside his heated thoughts.

He was inadequate when it came to being your devoted husband, so what made him believe that he could be your hero in this situation.

He didn’t want to do anything that would further upset you; he had already overstepped your boundaries by trying to reconnect with you.

But now that you’ve broken things off with your boyfriend, could this be an opportunity to rekindle your friendship? Maybe something more. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

His heart was trying to root him to stay but his intuition was tugging at him to go. It was clear that you didn’t want to talk about it further with him.

As much as it bothered him, there was nothing he could do. After all, you were a grown woman, and you were free to keep things to yourself.

You didn’t owe him anything even if he was your ex-husband— if anything that was probably more reasons why you shouldn’t share anything with him.

“I think I should be getting going, Gabi’s waiting,” he turned around and reached for the door, trying to conceal his disappointment.

“Wait—” you called out. He halted. “Are you planning to do anything later?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You asked meekly. He mulled it over for a moment. He suspected that you didn’t want to be alone after what you’ve experienced and he was glad that he was the one that could keep you company.

“If it would make you feel better, then of course,” his tone was warmer and his muscles relaxed at the thought of spending an evening with you.

There was still that underlying anger he felt towards you ex who had the galls to betray you like that behind your back.

But that was overshadowed by the newfound seed of hope that was planted in his heart— that things might get better between the two of you.

You rose up from the shower floor and washed your tear stained face before you both got out of the bathroom together.

~

Miguel felt the rush of wind brushing past him as he swung over from building to building to get to his destination. His movements were fueled by determination and yearning.

It wasn’t long until he could see the soft glow of your bedroom light filtering through the curtains. He paused outside of your apartment, contemplating how things would turn out. What was he doing here? What was he hoping to achieve? All he knew was that he couldn’t stay away no matter how hard he tried.

With a sigh, he slipped into the open window and pushed past the curtains. He found you settled on your bed with the bedside lap on. You glanced at him, showing that you had acknowledged him but you didn’t give him your full attention.

“Gabi’s staying over at my parents’ house,” you said dismissively. Part of him was glad that Gabi wasn’t around— he didn’t want her to witness how vulnerable he was right now and the tension between her parents.

“I’m not here for Gabi,” he replied, his voice steady but his heart racing.

The apartment felt different than normal— almost hollow even though nothing much had changed physically the last time he was here. Maybe the feeling was from the absence of warmth between the two of you

“Do you need me to patch you up again?” You asked incredulously, still not looking at him.

“I’m not here for that either,”

Finally, you look back at him, waiting to see what he had to say.

It took a few seconds before he could trust himself to speak again, but to him it felt like a lifetime. The words he had rehearsed mentally over and over finally spilled.

“I came here to apologise, for everything. I neglected you and wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I’ve hurt you,”

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out for a while. Your face was unreadable, blank of any emotion and Miguel couldn’t tell what was going through your head. There wasn’t even a twitch in your expression that he could pick up on.

“Now he says he’s sorry,” your voice carried a bitterness that threw him off. You climbed off your bed and took a few steps away, facing your back to him.

Miguel’s heart sank in disbelief.

“Are you really going to give me the cold shoulder now?” He climbed down the windowsill and stepped further into your room towards you. “Look, I know it’s a late apology, but I need you to understand how much I regret pushing you away. Please just hear me out,”

“Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You left me alone. You were never there, always busy in another dimension or saving the multiverse while our marriage fell apart.”

“I was trying to protect you!” His voice escalated in volume. “Everything I did, I did it for you and Gabi,”

“Protect me?” You scoffed. “By pushing me away? All you did was made me feel like I wasn’t important enough to fight for,”

Miguel gritted his teeth, feeling his frustration surfacing. “You think I didn’t suffer? Every time I left, it tore me apart. But I thought it was something I had to do,”

“You thought wrong,”

Suddenly all those gloomy memories came rushing to him like a tidal wave. He could see the images of your lonely silhouette sitting at the dining table, waiting for a husband who never came home.

The empty bed that felt colder each night he wasn’t there.

The guilt that had been lingering since the divorce now crashed down like a storm on him, suffocating him.

“I know I made mistakes and I didn’t prioritise our marriage. But I never stopped loving you, not for a second,” He said, his voice softened, almost in a pleading manner.

“Really?” You said, your tone cutting. “Did seeing me move on and go on another date make you suddenly come to your senses?”

Miguel’s jaw clenched at that. He didn’t like that you saw him that way but he couldn’t blame you for coming to that conclusion. “That’s not fair, I was trying to do what’s best for us. I didn’t want to hold you back,”

“You didn’t want to hold me at all, Miguel. Do you really think that you could swing by into my apartment and fix everything with an apology?”

“No…” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair before his voice lowered, “But I would regret it everyday if I didn’t try. Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life,”

His mind was racing, remembering the warmth of you embracing and how you would fit perfectly together. “I miss the way we used to be, I missed the way you would melt in my arms, I miss coming home to you,”

“Kiss me,”

“What?” He gave you a puzzled look. “After everything that I’ve done to you, you want me to kiss you?”

“If you’re really sorry, you would kiss me,”

Miguel hesitated— his mind was conflicted, torn between his guilt and your command. For a moment he didn’t move, studying your face to see if you had an ulterior motive to all of this. Was this a test or a chance at redemption?

But eventually, he caved in and leaned in until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first as he was holding back from overwhelming you.

His lips slowly parted, and he softly whispered into your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”

He heard you moan softly in response and his chest clenched. He couldn’t believe he had that much of an effect on you just from a kiss.

His hands reached over to the back of your head firmly before his lips pressed hard on your lips, not wanting to miss a single moment of you were sharing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

You clung onto him, your kiss hungry and desperate, as if trying to erase all the pain and distance between the two of you.

After everything you’ve been through, you’ve still had a tight grip on him, and it was killing him little by little. But he would happily give himself to you without a second thought.

He pulled away and his lips trailed over your jaw. All the hostility from you melted away as he continued to kiss over your face and neck. He could visibly sense the tension easing from your body as your breath hitched.

He pulled his face away from your neck to look at you in the eyes. “Needy,”

“Says you,”

“Yeah? I’m not the one who asked to be kissed though,”

“You and I both know that you wanted it just as much as I did,”

“Hmm maybe. Do you know what else I want?”

“I might have an idea,” you finished off your sentence by grinding your hips against his own. He let out a stuttered moan at the touch before a smile crept across his face.

So shameless.

He felt the heat creeping to his groin and translating to a growing erection. His dick was painfully hard now and you continued to grind your hips, using his erection to get more friction.

His face heated up when he heard your desperate whines. You were so needy for him right now and that was only stroking his ego.

He pulled away from your embrace and disengaged his suit with his watch to reveal his nude body in its full glory— his throbbing dick was the most prominent view.

He saw you gawking at the precum that was spilling from the tip— an amused smile played on your lips before you looked back up at him. “Look who’s needy now.”

Hearing your smug remark brought him a wave of nostalgia, something he missed when making love to you. But it also ignited something in him— a growing desire to take you and make you eat your words.

He grasped onto the hem of your silky nightgown and pulled them up so he could reach to your undies to pull them down. Swiftly, he lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist before effortlessly pinned you against the wall.

He knew he was being desperate and skipping most of the foreplay tonight, but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you clench around him, his body will hate him if he delayed it longer.

Positioning himself against your folds, he could already feel your wetness paint his tip. You were soaked just for him and only him— just how it should be.

He pushed himself in and your mouth hung from the overwhelming stretch from his dick. Feeling the grip you had was almost enough to knock the winds out of him. He halted when he was halfway, gauging the sight of you.

A sense of familiarity washed over him when he saw your face warp while struggling to take him in. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth was agape, slowly drowning in the bliss he was giving you.

You let out a startled moan when he slammed the rest of him in with a lewd slap.

“Go slow…please. I need time to adjust,” you breathed, voice coming out staggered. He kissed the corner of your mouth in acknowledgment. He dragged himself out before rolling his hips in, keeping a steady rhythm so he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

It was easier to feel and hear how wet you were with his slow and shallow pace. He had been yearning for this moment for too long and now that he could finally have you like this, everything felt more intense.

You were finally his again and it almost felt too good to be real.

He rested his forehead against you, watching through his hazy eyes how responsive you were to him and picking up every micro expression.

The room filled with your soft moans as he kept thrusting into you. Your labored breaths merged with your lips inches away. He could feel his peak crawling in and he made sure to reach the deepest part of your crevice before he unraveled inside you.

Having his release fill you up again was dizzying. Carefully, he put you back down onto your feet again and you leaned onto his chest for stability until you regained your balance.

He kept holding you close with his body pressing flushed against yours and catching your breaths in silence. A short moment passed before you looked up at him.

“Let me taste you, please.” You said. It wasn’t a question. Hearing the way you requested that in such a sultry way made his cock twitch and he was whipped all over again.

He could feel the heat rush to his cock and his erection forming. “You want a taste? How can I say no?”

He pulled himself away from you and perched on your bed, spreading his thighs to display is dick standing on its end. He let out a sharp exhale as he watched you go down on your knees for him and settled between his legs.

Miguel tensed when he felt your hand clasped around his length, grappling onto the bed sheet to steady himself. The after effect of his previous climax was still tingling and coursing through him.

“Easy…don’t overdo it,” he muttered, his hip stuttered slightly.

You look up at him and he could feel a new string of precum drawing out from the tip. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,”

Your tongue grazed along the tip, and you were collecting your own wetness that coated his dick from earlier along with his precum. You were so eager and yet so gentle, it was overwhelming.

You were too good and it was getting to his head. Everything about you was enticing. You gave the head of his cock a few kitten licks and he let out a groan, his hand reaching over to the back of your head.

It took every fiber of him not to buck his hip and shove him all the way into your mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut when he felt the warmth of your mouth around the tip. He let out another pleasurable moan, arching into your touch.

The sensitivity in his body continued to soar through him and the feeling of your mouth was enough to drive him up the walls.

You’re so good. How are you always so good at this.

More precum beaded up from his tip and gently leaked down into your mouth— he heard you hum from the taste. You lowered your head until you had his full length in his mouth.

His eyes fly open from the sudden sensation and he looked down to see you eying up at him. You carried a soft look in you eyes even while doing something lascivious. It was enough to disarm the coldest of souls; he couldn’t help but caress your cheeks right now.

“Eres tan hermosa en este momento,” he mumbled, still in a hazy trance. His nerves were firing and he threw his head back, getting lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

Before he could register it, he was shaking and trembling when his orgasm came crashing down again. Ropes and ropes of his jizz squirted into your mouth. His eyes were unfocused, and it took him several deep breaths before he could find his voice again.

“Ay por dios…”

He still felt sparks from his high and his mind was absolutely buzzed. The lewd sound of you swallowing him down send a shiver crawling down his spine and his stomach fluttering.

His head dropped against the pillows from exhaustion, still panting. He felt the bed shift when you lie besides him and nussled against his chest.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he confessed, kissing the crown of your head.

“I can still taste you,” you teased. He responded lift your chin up to look at him and caught your lips in a gentle kiss. He was insatiable and he didn’t want to stop feeling your touch after having been deprived of it for so long.

He was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth and map out the familiar heat that he loved so much. The taste of himself was barely lingering in your mouth.

His mind was spinning from everything— the taste of your lips, the smell of your arousal and the sound of your low moans as he kissed you deeper.

All the little ways you responded to him was enough to give him the energy to turn you over on your stomach. His straddling on your back and his hard on sat at the base of your rear, between each globe of your cheeks.

“Hard again, eh?,” you quipped, turning your head to look at him.

But your demeanor quickly shifted when he began to push himself in, keeping his pace measured and slow. You started gripping and kneading the sheet from the feeling and muffled your moans into the pillow.

“Don’t hide from me,” he muttered, leaning in before his teeth nipped at your earlobe. You lifted your head from the pillow instinctively, letting out a startled noise.

He continued to slide himself in and out of you while simultaneously kiss along the curse of your neck from behind— each thrust was measured and calculated so you’d feel everything from him.

“Do I make you feel good, amor?” He moaned in your ear before he started to build a faster rhythm. Your noises became more urgent and he could tell you were desperately chase your high.

Each thrust pushed you further into the sheet. A guttural moan ripped from you as you clenched around him and reached your impending climax. He felt your come around him, taking him closer to the edge.

He pulled out momentarily, turning you around so you lied on your back and rested your legs on his shoulders. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare before he bottomed out.

He started thrusting inside you with little to no exit before hand. He didn’t pull his cock all the way but rather dragged himself slightly back before slamming back in relentlessly. The rough pace only milked more moans and sweet noises out of you, encouraging him to keep going.

Your voice was becoming frantic mixed with your moans and he almost missed when you spoke.

“Breed me,”

It took a moment for the words to register in your head and he felt his mind go hazy from your request. It wasn’t a question, but an order. You wanted this more than anything. His thought were filled of you, being bred by him and carrying another child and marking you as his again.

“Make me a mami again,”

This gave him extra motivation now. Each time, his thrusts became more and more sporadic and losing it’s rhythm. The bed creaked in protest from his pace. With one final stroke, he pushed as much of himself inside you and filled you up with your seeds again.

But he wasn’t done. He pulled himself away so he could slip two fingers into your swollen pussy. He gathered the remnants of your shared release onto the pad of his fingers before he held them near your mouth.

Pressing his thumb against your lower lip, he gently lowered it down and watched in awe as you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers in so you could get a taste and let out a low groan, feeling your mouth suckle on the cum that was clinging onto his fingers.

“Can you taste how good we are together, amor?”

He kept watching you intently until he slipped his fingers out and reached over to kiss your forehead. You look spend and your breathing became laboured.

Miguel perched onto the bed besides you again, gulping to moisture his dry mouth. He had spent so many nights alone, haunted by the nights of his decision that led to your divorce.

Being in bed with you alone, naked and drenched in the afterglow felt surreal. He didn’t think he would ever experience this again.

“Have I told you that I never stopped loving you,” he whispered with raw emotions. Even if he did already tell you, he wanted you to know that he meant every word. It was never about falling out of love but rather about protecting you and his daughter— his family.

Your eyes met his. “I know. But love wasn’t enough to keep us together,”

“I know that now. But I want to make things right, if you let me,” The air that was static with tension was now starting to flourish with new possibilities.

“I don’t know if things will be back to the way they were, but let’s take it a step at a time,” you kissed his mouth.

You pulled away and rose from the bed. “But I want to take a shower first, care to join me?”

He gave you a mischievous look and he was liking where this was going. “Lead the way, cariño,”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @maiyart @lazyjellyfish300 @mrsoharaa @truth-dare-spin-bottles @farrowroyale

@amberbalcom14 @blvd-sourz @bluesidez @slushycoookie @prettygirleli

@saintdiior @peachipeachy @xyziiix @mybvalentine @c4rm1son

@annavatar @scaryplanetdestroyer

You know normally in a situation where the character gets back with reader, you’d expect them to get all possessive and primal and whatnot. I didn’t want to showcase that dominant dynamics here. Not my cup of tea ewewew I kinda liked that I got reader to tease Miguel too and they still had their back and forth even after everything

Ayrus xoxo

[cherryredstars]

Pairing : Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Cum Play, Reader is Slightly Intoxicated, Revenge Sex, Mean Miguel, No Aftercare

A/N: Written for a request. Thank you, love!

Unedited

The moment he sees you he knows it’s you.

Sure, you’re not as slim as you were before and not as loud and obnoxious, but you still as fucking stunning as you were back in high school. Something about that gets him pissed, scowling every time he spots you at Alchemax’s front desk or in the halls with papers or coffee. It doesn’t help that you’re actively avoiding him, sharply turning when you spot him and scurrying away.

Like you’re still too good for him.

He’s always imagined that he would get his revenge on you by embarrassing you in front of a large crowd of people or getting you fired from your pathetic job when he was younger. But he never would have imagined he could get it another way. Not until he’s going to the break room and he hears your little chatter with your work friends, a little bashful confession on how attractive you think Miguel is tumbling from your soft lips.

So after a work party, when you’re a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home, Miguel can’t refuse taking you back to your place and getting his revenge.

Miguel groans as he watches you, large hands gripping your waist as he bullies his cock into you. You let out the prettiest mewls and whimpers, sounds his high school self could never imagine you making because of him. Your hands claw at his chest, burning marks dragging across his skin and making his dick twitch. His eyes don’t know where to look, stuck between the stupid look on your fucked out face, your bouncing tits that are begging to be sucked on, or your gaping cunt that takes him in so greedily. He settles for studying your face, a mean smile on his face as his large palm slaps against your tits and making you whine.

He coos softly at you, disguising the cruel words he says. Calling you a stupid slut and a pathetic whore in the tones of a lullaby that has your head reeling and your cunt fluttering. Miguel grunts as your walls clamp around him, the tacky sound of your wetness increasing in volume as you gush around his cock. If he was a meaner person, he would record you riding his dick so prettily and post it to all of your socials, but Miguel finds a bit more satisfaction knowing you’ll have to live with the silent knowledge you let that nerdy loser from high school fuck you so good that you’re left daydreaming about him and his cock.

You moan out his name, and Miguel grits his teeth together as his cock jumps at how pretty it sounds falling from your pretty lips. Miguel growls as his thumb falls to your tiny clit, pinching meanly at it as you gasp and squirm in his lap. He chuckles as your body locks, a pretty cry floating out of you as he fucks you through a body shaking orgasm. You twitch in his hands, eyes rolled back as he chases his own high with punishing thrusts that are sure to bruise your cervix. He makes sure to press right against its opening as hot spurts of his seed shoot into you, a frothy ring of white forming around his cock as a combination of your cum drip from your stuffed cunt.

You’re on the verge of passing out when he leaves, pulling out of you and dumping you on your bed. A sticky mess of his cum is still splatter against your thighs, sheets crumbled and your thighs already starting to ache. You don’t even have energy to fight him when he dips his fingers into you, using the thick load to spell his name on your pulsing clit before he gets dressed and leaves you alone in your apartment.

Was this a punishment or a prize?

[safixiovi]

I’ll have no self respect if i said what i want to say about these pictures

[mayo-productions]

Good evening tumblr, you guys ever just feel like:

[rebelliousdandy]

operation ‘make miguel not suck’ (ft. hatsune miku and lyla)

[machineheraldandy]

Miguel’s story is one of SA

Miguel O’Hara: story analysis

General trigger warning for SA/Grooming/childhood SA/drugging, if it’s too triggering please have a good day and keep yourself safe instead of reading :)

This piece comes from a grooming victim, so I have a bit of insight of certain topics, everything is written with care. (I hope)

Rambling a lot!!!

There is a general story told in Miguel O’Hara’s spiderman series, one of him being spiderman of course, the new one, but also one of how his life isn’t his, how his story is one of SA. This was more recently ignored and changed by PAD in order to make him more like Peter Parker, treating his deep adult issues as more goofy “haha spiderman!” Things instead of what they are. That will be addressed. Like always this is a part ramble, part think piece.

Miguel from the start does not have his own life, from the day Conchata is pregnant with him, his life was planned out, he wouldn’t be her son, or George’s, he wouldn’t be a person, he would be the toy of Tyler Stone, the moment he was born was the moment he was groomed, he never had a choice, never had a way out, never got a chance to even try to run. Tyler planned to groom him into what he was. It’s made clear.

Miguel from the start became smart, not so much by his own will but because he was expected to, by George, an abusive alcoholic. He got into the Alchemax school for gifted children, not because he wanted to but because George set it up, but Tyler/Conchata had it planned. (Most likely)

From how Miguel is written it could be assumed that he would have rather been beaten while protecting Gabriel then having to go to that school, but had the fear or being nothing, and being beaten worse if he didn’t, he’s scared of his family, scared of failure, scared of George, and Tyler. Scared of not following orders.

In his Childhood, Tyler was distant but groomed him from the side, by all means it was known early on that Kron had a Personality disorder which made him Anti-social, what disorder? Unknown and will not be guessed upon as that would villainise people with the disorder. From my personal point of view, Kron was the child meant to be Tyler’s best but Tyler moved onto Miguel quickly due to Tyler seeing it as a waste to try with Kron anymore. It could be shown that Kron sense of the world changed due to Tyler, and Krons later behaviours were that of a Groomer, and of course SA’er in the future.

Tyler while knowing Kron had a personality disorder or just ignoring it, taught him the behaviour of going after women, Tyler had been divorced many times, he had many women, Tyler taught him to have power over people and to use that against them. By all means Kron became what he was due to Tyler. HENSE why Tyler is even worse in this. Tyler on accident created an abuser, that would do exactly what Tyler did, but more publicly.

Going into this is to not explain Krons actions or defend him but to say that the general theme of SA, has so many roots linking back to each other. Kron goes on to SA Miguel’s first girlfriend (at the time best friend) miguel walks in on this, stops it, gets nearly killed, There is no doubt what happened to Xina was indeed SA, it was just the only form of SA they may have been allowed to show, Xina is naked and Kron holding a knife is forcing her to take her towel off, it’s implied that so much worse would have happened to Xina if Miguel didn’t arrive.

I won’t go much into this though as from my point of view PAD wrote a SA story in this to make a man a savour of a woman, (or boy saving girl) the way it was handled wasn’t well. Even if it’s important to how Miguel’s story has SA, and seems to be a story about SA.

The next time he is assaulted in a way that brings into the question of SA and hidden meanings is Raptor, Tyler is Miguel’s groomer, Tyler admits as much verbally, Tyler drugs Miguel to keep control of him, he does something an abusive groomer would do, he makes Miguel believe miguel is reliant on him even-though he isn’t and never was. Miguel didn’t take enough of the drugs for it to affect him, but Tyler convinces him otherwise, an abuse tactic similar to real abuse tactics. “You can’t leave, you need me! Due to a lie!”

Some see this as an allegory for SA, I do too, specially when the rest of his story is the way it is.

The next time which isn’t SA but it’s important to the SA, and how his life isn’t his own, is him becoming spiderman, Aaron mad at him forcefully tried to kill him in a way that forces him to become spiderman against his will, he attempts to escape his groomer Tyler, and as a result becomes what he sees as a monster not worth living, in his attempt to escape he falls deeper into himself, deeper into an emotional pit he can’t escape, his life isn’t his, when he tries to make it his own, it fails, it always fail, he will never escape, what is the point?

He then as spiderman gets SA’ed, a villain forcefully kisses him, he doesn’t want it, he needs to get her off and he does so in a way that only him, spiderman could do. Paralysing her with his fangs, this moment sucked as it was less treated like SA and just as a 1990s comic thing, but it also…was amazing, Miguel’s escape from himself that he believed failed in a way helped him, that’s good accidental story telling. You also have the thing of how a victim might go “it worked but it only happened due to!” As Miguel only got SA’ed due to being spiderman, but he got saved due to being spiderman, meaning there is a major conflict, yes his attempt to save himself failed then failed again but it helped? But it only helped due to another failure? Keeping him trapped.

The next time we see SA/Grooming in the comics, is to do with Dana, everyone doesn’t like her specially for this, but there is one thing to note, Dana was a 23 year old fiancé to a grooming victim, that grooming victims, groomer wanted sex out of her, when being 50+, not only is there an age gap so big it can call into questions on if it okay, but he is a extremely rich business man (power inbalance) and someone that actively was still grooming Miguel, you could see Tyler doing this as a way to try and trap and hurt Miguel more + grooming Dana, and that’s what it should be treated as! Even if Tyler “fell in love” with Dana, it came from a bad place. And there was NOT proper consent.

The next time SA is an issue is when Kron comes back as Venom, he kidnaps Dana and Xina, making nasty remarks, some remarks which can be taken as even sexual jokes, Xina was SA’ed by him as a child, and now he becomes nasty again, he reopens wounds, and in the process hurts Dana/Xina/Miguel.

The story ends soon after for the 1992 run, but continues within the 2015 run, Miguel’s girlfriend tempest once again is a victim of SA, I don’t know much about it so I won’t go into it, but then Miguel is a victim of SA AGAIN, getting forcefully kissed and forced into a position he never wanted to be in as a lady forces him to be in it otherwise he risks being exposed for who he is (a future spiderman)

Miguel’s story runs heavy with SA themes, grooming themes, and is overall a sad story about a victim, a victim who later gets treated like a joke and treated like he should never have existed by the people that created him. What is worse is…the new comics

Miguel teaming up with Kron: we all know it, we all hate it, PAD ruined Miguel, he made it known Miguel still had his own mind when befriending Kron, and Kron only maybe a week prior had canonly killed Dana, and…once again Miguel saw Kron SA Xina, he then for a bit treated Kron like a better brother than Gabriel.

This could have been written so much better, victims attach to their abusers, you could logically in character find a way to get Miguel to work with Kron, as Miguel is a victim his whole life, Miguel was groomed by Krons father, Kron got his behaviour from his father.

PAD could have written an abuse victim getting an unhealthy attachment to an abuser after tragically losing Dana, and going through all the abuse, as victims do that. But he chose to be disgusting. And to write Miguel poorly. Like always.

So like always, Miguel can’t have it his way, he can’t even have his personality without the writers changing it to make him less him. He has never been in control, and never will, his story is sad, and it’s one of so much tragedy.

If anything I said was written in a bad way please let me know so I can fix it! 💖

[evilhorse]

And I prefer my humanity alive, with throats unbitten.

(Miguel O’Hara Spider-Man 2099 #2)

[soranatus]

The Spider Target By Dan Martins, a character designer and illustrator

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.

𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.

You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.

You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.

You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.

You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.

Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.

Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.

“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”

“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.

Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”

“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”

“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.

Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.

He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.

But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.

“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.

“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”

As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”

His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”

“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”

“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.

You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.

“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.

“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.

You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.

Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.

You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.

A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.

Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn off the stove?”

“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.

He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?

“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.

The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,”

Ouch.

“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.

“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.

He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.

“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.

With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.

The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.

“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.

“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.

You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.

With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.

You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”

The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”

“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.

The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.

There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.

You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.

“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.

The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.

“Could you hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.

You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.

“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.

The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.

With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.

“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”

“Like what?”

“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”

You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.

“It’s my fault…”

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.

In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.

Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.

But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.

“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.

“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.

“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”

“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.

You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.

“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.

“Of course,”

“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”

You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”

“You already have a lot on your plate,”

“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”

“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”

Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”

“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.

“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.

“Maybe,”

“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”

“I’ll do it again,”

“And I’ll kiss you right back,”

“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.

It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.

You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”

Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.

You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.

As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”

To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”

“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.

But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.

Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.

“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.

Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.

But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.

He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.

You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.

You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.

“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.

You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.

“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,

“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.

“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”

You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.

Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.

His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.

The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.

His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.

Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.

“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.

“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.

He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.

His broad head nudging into your cervix.

His soft whispers fanning against your ear.

His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.

“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.

You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.

You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.

Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.

Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”

You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”

Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern

@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose

@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart

@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos

@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi

Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore

[cherryredstars]

Cherry, I’ve always wanted to say this to you… You. Are. Amazing! I seriously can't get enough of your work!

How about this? Reader is a TV host that bashes on Spider-Man. However it is just a job to her and doesn’t believe in the things she rants about. Anyway, one day reader is caught in the middle of one of Spider’s Man foes and our favorite grumpy spider saves her. Though he is extremely rude to her when she tries to thank him (what else is new?). Reader has to convince him that she doesn’t hate him (the opposite in fact) and decides to show him her appreciation.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Thigh Riding, A Little Electricity(??)

A/N: Thank you, lovie!! Enjoy!

Unedited

The world must hate you.

The stiffness in the air is haunting as the burly hero trails behind you, making sure you don’t make more trouble. You weren’t exactly looking for it, it just came to you. How were you supposed to know actively looking for one of the biggest criminals in the past few weeks for a story could be dangerous?

Okay, maybe he had a point.

You sigh, trying to subtly glance over your shoulder. Even through his mask, you can see the grimace he directs at you, pixels slightly distorting. You thin your lips, rubbing your arm. Great, even Spiderman is after you.

“Um,” you start, turning to face him. He crosses his arms over his chest and you try not to let your eyes linger on how it tightens his suit. “My house is just around the block, I’ll be fine from here.”

He doesn’t move, continuing to stare down at you like you’re a child. You gulp, balancing on the balls of your shoes before slowly turning around and walking forward with a dragged out whisper of okay. You lead him down the block until you stop in front of the entrance to your apartment complex.

You face him once again, putting on an awkward smile.

“Thank you for, uh, escorting me home.” The hero says nothing, looking over you for any injuries before starting to turn around.

Your hand rushes out, electricity pulsing under your fingers for just a second as you grab his arm before he shakes you off.

“I don’t mean those things.” You rush out, suddenly desperate to clear the air with your favorite hero. “I-it’s a job. Just a job.”

You can hear the small scoff he lets out from under his mask, something in you deflating slightly. You open your mouth again, but no words come to mind to reassure him. You clamp your mouth shut, a stupid idea coming to you. You reach out, grabbing his arm again and turn him to face you. You’re quick as you lean up and press a hard kiss to his mask, your lips tingling from the buzzing technology. Instinctively, Miguel grabs at your waist to steady you on your toes, a low grunt leaving him.

You pull away, clearing your throat. Embarrassment flushes your skin and you sharply turn away. You really are stupid or something. “Good night.”

You stalk towards the entrance door, body moving like a robot as you avoid the burning gaze at your back. You open the door, turning when you feel hot electricity directly behind you. Your eyes stay on his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

What he really meant was, I’ll follow you through the door and proceed to fuck you against it.

You let out a soft moan as he presses you against the wall, pressing a suited thigh between your legs as he guides you up and down it. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, digging in so strongly that the suit glows white under them. You can feel his lips at your skin, mouthing and sucking on the delicate curve of your neck. Your pencil skirt has folded up to your waist, leaving only your panties to protect your aching clit from the subtle buzz and zaps of his suit as he grinds you on him.

You throw your head back, a whimper leaving you from the harsh hold he has on your hips. You can tell he’s trying to get you off quickly, probably in a rush to get back on the streets and protect the rest of the city. But right now, he’s here, in your apartment with his sharp fangs teasingly dragging against your skin.

You wonder if he can feel the wetness of your parties through his suit, if he is able to smell the pure arousal wafting from you as you buck your hips against his thigh with heavy moans. You try to look down at his face, only to see the bottom half revealed so he can mouth at you. You whine in disappointment, even though the rational part of your brain understands why he won’t reveal his full identity.

He seems to smirk at the nose, flexing his thigh and making you gasp as your clothed cunt runs over the corded muscle. A small curse flutters from your lips as another pleasant flicker of electricity runs over your clit, your orgasm just over the horizon.

Miguel speeds up his movements, making you grind faster against his leg until he’s sure you’re about to glitch out his suit from how hard you grab onto him. You come with a strangled cry, cunt fluttering against his suit as his teeth give a small nip to your neck. The tiniest dose of venom hits your skin, but it’s enough to leave your post-orgasm state limp. You slump against him, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure and his suit. He ever so gently moves you to the couch, laying you down as his mask fully obscures his face again. You’re left to drowsily stare at him as he approaches your window, opening it before disappearing into the night.

What a way to thank your heroes.

[monarchberrysblog]

THE HAIR OMFG

Tried making a hair guide for Comic Miguel, confused myself after making a ref board and just gave up. I did write down some stuff I noticed while making this. Both ATSV and Comic Miguel's hair is a lot easier to draw with the lasso tool

[safixiovi]

Yes. Yes. I have daddy issues. Yes. That’s why I couldn’t remove this man on my mind. It hurts. I don’t know I’m feeling roller coaster feelings in the middle of the night. Listening to Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood. I know it’s weird I’m sorry. Might delete this but i wanna know do ppl with daddy issues like him too

[mayo-productions]

Omg mayo drawing enemies actually acting like enemies? Blasphemy!!

[ekkoh]

spiderband + the squinty™

bonus:

[machineheraldandy]

New Miguel comic: Conchata

This is talking about the abuse Miguel/Gabriel went through and my unhappiness with the writing of conchata

As we all know the first issue of the 2024 spiderman 2099 comics has come out, there are 5 in total but only the 1st is out, the first one is about downtown. No I am not calling “barrio” having a zombie infestation and conchata gets bitten, conchata accidentally shows how bad the writers are at writing Latino characters by having Miguel call her “mom” and “Connie” Connie which Tyler calls her as a way to do a micro aggression. He calls Miguel “Mike”, and conchata “Connie” to erase their Hispanic roots, so why is Miguel calling her that, and to take into consideration, he’d more likely call her “ma” he is a proud Mexican man, he wears his heritage with pride, (literally as his suit is a dead of the dead suit), why is the first thing we see erasure, through conchata.

The next thing is her mentioning “barrio” the writing terrible “barrio man” stupid, they wanted to try and connect Miguel to his roots by using a random Spanish word, when they could have connected him to his roots by getting him to call conchata “conchata” or “ma” very easy.

Next up is the fact conchata basically blames Miguel for Gabriel’s death, she does regret what she says afterwards as it was the “infestation” making her speak but it was obviously her inner thoughts. Leading to a bigger issue. by the end of the comic Miguel forgives her for it and tells her it was just the infestation, but can we really believe that? Obviously conchata felt there was truth behind her words and she was upset Miguel had to hear them as she wanted to keep them inside. To me it was like the inner thoughts coming out of a drunk person as they have no self control, losing the control to keep the truths hidden as you lose the off button

Conchata is abusive, I’m not going to act like she’d a good mother to either Gabriel or Miguel, Gabriel faced abuse, mostly from George, but we aren’t going to pretend that conchata wouldn’t have been disgusting towards him as well in any way, and then of course Miguel, she physically abuses him, neglects him, and hates him, and the marvel industry has an obsession with redeeming her

As someone that was abused I can say abusers can be redeems in some situations, I had an abusive family member that is now my most loved and cared for family member, because they redeemed…themself…and put in the work..they got therapy…they admitted to their wrongs, they changed their ways, and removed people from their life that made them bad, does conchata do this? No lmao

We are expected to watch conchata get redeems when Miguel is putting in all the effort, abuse victims are not the ones that should put in effort, why? Because it justifies the abusers actions, doesn’t get them to learn, and lets them continue that behaviour on. Realistically Miguel putting in the effort, is showing a way abuse victims get stuck in cycles of abuse, and we are meant to believe everything is okay and that it is a good thing, it is not, it is a harmful message, and one many young fans who are just getting into spiderman will see, and can possibly start to believe this is okay, as fiction can and will alter the brain specially of younger people.

You could argue “well she is putting in effort now!” From the way the comic ends but

Miguel waits hours to see conchata, he tries to save her, he is patient with her, by the end he decided to do her jobs so she can figure herself out, a way of doing the work for her literally; and he’s too forgiving, he is still an abuse victim, and in a way this is signs that he will be abused again. And I have to mention the “too forgiving” bit, who is too forgiving? GABRIEL. And he does that as a BAD coping mechanism, he is a people pleaser due to trauma, he copes in the wrong way of trying to please people to the point of being overly forgiving because he is a victim of abuse, marvel is indirectly writing Miguel to start having Gabriel’s toxic coping mechanisms.

Yes it says she will learn to live with herself. But it says nothing about learning to become a better mother, learning to change, learning to become better.

Tho as much as I hate her and the writing, I love the art so much, this is absolutely stunning