#Protective Jessica Drew

[darthbloodorange]

Jess is there for Carol…

For the: ✦ @anyfandomangstbingo - Drug Addiction [O2]

Medium: Art Word Count: N/a Title: Drop the Bottle Rating: Teens Universe: Marvel 616 Pairings: Carol Danvers/Jessica Drew Characters: Carol Danvers, Jessica Drew Warnings: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism Major Tags: No Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt Carol Danvers, Carol Danvers Needs a Hug, Protective Jessica Drew ~ Summery: Jess is there for Carol…

[blackfilmmakers]

Can’t help but feel most people’s disdain towards Jessica is specifically how she didn’t fulfill that mammy role y’all so desperately wanted her to be

[weirdo09]

i’m taking Jess w me as the ones the fandom doesn’t understand like i do..

[eyessocurious38]

Across the Spider Verse Headcanon: Miguel

I wonder if Miguel feels angry or uncomfortable with the fact that Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew are apparently alright with their lack of safety for their (future) kid. Now I’m sure he would have straight up told them to stay in their own dimension etc. etc. or maybe he really needs the help from people he can trust. But I can’t help but feel it brings out bad memories for Miguel or an anxiety of some sort.

[bli-o]

Ok but the “will you adopt me” thing from gwen was very very obviously a reference to trans kids seeing older trans people for the first time and I am so so for gwen and jess trans mother daughter duo

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O'Hara (Across The Spiderverse) - Chapter 7

“I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but the mission always comes first. I don’t ever want you putting yourself in danger, not for me.” 

He saw the way you looked at him, like he was crazy, but Miguel's eyes were firm.

“Promise me.” 

You gulped, eyes dropping to your feet as you gave a slow nod. 

“I promise.” 

That was the agreement. 

You were supposed to prioritize your safety above everything else. He was aware of the abilities of their current villain. He could manipulate metal. That made him dangerous. He wanted you out of the line of fire. 

That’s why it didn’t make sense, you were standing right in front of him, eyes shaky, but a smile planted on your face. There was blood right at the corner of your lips. He couldn’t truly process what was going on, it felt like time had stopped, because this couldn’t be his reality. 

You coughed up a mouthful of blood and he was forced back into reality. The very real situation of the metal beam that was wedged into your gut. He wasn’t sure how it happened. All he really heard was you screaming his name, and the next minute, you were right in front of him, body unsteady. 

“I’m sorry..I..broke our promi..” 

Your eyes slid shut and Miguel reached out in a panic as you dropped right into his arms. There was blood..everywhere. He could distinctly hear the chaos in the background as he stood to his feet, but he still couldn’t get his body to do anything but hold you. 

His mask depixelated immediately, and his fangs were visible as he sank his teeth into your neck. He was thankful the logical side of his brain was working. He needed to cauterize your wound, his venom could do that, among other things. All he needed to do was keep you stable, just until they got you some help. His lips parted and he pulled away. There had been little change, except now the blood wasn’t pouring out of your wound. 

“Miguel!!” 

It was Peter.

He jumped down, the villain unconscious over his shoulder, tied up completely. Gwen and Hobie joined after and they all looked devastated at the sight of you, suit bloody, metal still protruding from your stomach. 

“No..” 

Gwen’s eyes held fear and Hobie moved to bring her comfort. Peter was quick to get the portal open, advising that they move quickly. Miguel was grateful that Peter stepped up, because he could still barely grasp what was happening. 

It took a while to get you treated. When they were finally able to remove the beam from your stomach, the sight of your blood felt overwhelming. He refused to leave your side, Jessica was the one who had to lead him outside so they could work. It’s not like he didn’t trust their ability. The organization had the best technology, not to mention minds. The best place for you to be at the moment was right here, but it still hurt. 

All he could do was watch you on that bed, still as a rock. 

It was like someone had physically ripped his heart out of his chest. 

For the next few days, he had a routine, meetings, briefings, anomaly assignments, then he visited the med bay. By some miracle he was still able to run the organization, but he couldn’t bring himself to go on another mission, not until you were awake, safe. 

So he kept at it. For a week he’d just show up. 

That evening was no different. His head was low when the double doors opened, and he prepared for it, the sight of you just laying there. 

Except this time when his head lifted, your body wasn’t in its usual spot. 

Panic set in, and all he did was turn and there you were, casually stretching. It looked like you were checking to see that everything was okay. You were still dressed in a hospital gown, so it’s clear that you must have woken up possibly moments before he came in. 

“Miguel..” 

You looked guilty and he knew why, but he could care less. You barely got much out before he was hugging you. He knew he should have been careful. You were asleep for days, but somehow just feeling your heartbeat against his chest, inhaling your scent, it felt like enough. You returned it with a smile, the tears running down your cheeks against your will. 

The hours after it was spent greeting your friends and peers at the organization. They were happy to see that you’d recovered, and Miguel had personally dropped you home that night. 

At the time you thought it was all okay. You had to sort out your little vacation with your boss since you took unapproved sick days. You got a little creative with the explanation. Thankfully they hadn’t fired you. 

Once it all settled you were headed back to Nueva York, except when you got there, Miguel seemed adamant on keeping you out of the field for the time being. You figured as much and you didn’t think much of it, not until you caught on to how curt he was being. 

The following week his strange behavior continued. He still checked in on you, conversed with you, but there was something about his attitude that just felt completely professional. At first you thought you imagined it, but by day five, you were sure of it.

Miguel had put up a wall. 

That’s why you showed up at his place after work. You had enlisted the help of Lyla to ensure that he would actually be at his house and not hunched over the screens at the center. When he opened the door, you could tell he wasn’t expecting you. He was dressed casually for a change. Black tank top, gray sweats. You would have been drooling had you not been so mad at him. Pushing your way through, Miguel closed the door, still a bit puzzled. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Is that anyway to talk to your girlfriend! After I took a metaphorical bullet for you!” 

It was supposed to be a playful jab, but his expression held no humor. For an instant you saw fear cross his eyes, then anger. He looked away. 

“You have to leave, I have work to do.” 

Your hands dropped and you stared at him hopelessly. You hated this, how cold he was being. It was like all those months you both spent together had vanished. Like you were strangers again. He moved to walk right past you, but you grabbed his hand, finally done. With his silence, his indifference, all of it. 

“I’m not leaving until you look me in the eye and tell me that it’s over between us!!” 

He turned to you, shocked at your words. 

“W-What are you talking about?” 

Now he was worried. You huffed, lowering your hand. 

“You won’t even look at me anymore. Every time we meet now it’s strained, like being around me is uncomfortable for you.” 

“You’re wrong.” 

“Really, then look me in the eyes.” 

He wouldn’t and you deflate. 

“I’m right.” 

He couldn’t even do something so small and it made you angry. 

“Why won’t you look at me!! Look at me Miguel!! Please just look at me!!” 

“I-I can’t!!” 

“WHY!!” 

“BECAUSE I TOLD YOU NOT TO RISK YOUR LIFE FOR ME!!!” 

He was furious at you. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry at someone in his life.

But more than anything, he was terrified. 

You realized then, that was the first time that he’d ever raised his voice at you. 

When your eyes finally met, he was crying. He looked so torn, so broken and it all just fell into place. The entire time he was just scared of losing you. Had your roles been switched, you can’t say that your reaction would have been much different. 

He was just standing there, baring it all. 

“I wouldn’t be able to survive..if I woke up one day and you weren’t there..” 

His lips quivered, and the words urged your own tears because you felt exactly the same. When you made that promise, you knew you shouldn’t have lied to him, but he shouldn’t have asked that of you. To just stand by and watch him get hurt, especially if you could stop it. Given your job description, it’s impossible to ever guarantee safety. 

“I love you (Y/N).” 

His words made your eyes widen and you swallowed. Neither of you had said those words, he knows, but in that moment, it felt necessary. Because as it stood, it was clear neither of you would ever let the other get hurt. 

If he’d been in your position he would have done the same without a second thought. It was hypocritical to lecture you about risking your life when he’d already promised himself that he would jump in front of the gun every time if it meant keeping you safe. 

You reached for him this time, kissing him desperately and he returned it, his tears staining your cheeks. 

He knew he couldn’t predict what would happen in the future, he just prayed that he could have this, have you like this forever. 

Safe in his arms.

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

 Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B.  with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head. 

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are  paying our old friend Lyla a little  surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly. 

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

 He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder. 

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.” 

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt,  flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-" 

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.” 

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms. 

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"  

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..." 

 "Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. ���Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a  low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight. 

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat.  Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next. 

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms. 

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day." 

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years. 

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible." 

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence. 

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?" 

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.” 

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light. 

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

 It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know.  Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?" 

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last. 

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit. 

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.” 

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

[emittthehuman]

Thinking about the way Gwen, how she is just a kid like Miles.

Her only father and family member she had left pointed a gun right at her, actively chose his job over his own daughter after she revealed she was spider woman.

Gwen was distraught, her whole world was collapsing. And then two spider people, people like HER, showed up. Adults who seemed like they understood what she was going through, offered her an escape from her problems. To abandon Gwen Stacy, to hide behind the mask where pain can’t get to her.

So she goes with them.

But things aren’t what they seem. The adults are falling apart here too, Miguel blows up at every small inconvenience. He’s extremely hard on Gwen- of course he would be. He can’t get attached to another little kid, not after what happened last time.

And Jessica Drew? A bit more lenient, maybe like the mom she never knew. But she’s not her mom. She pushed for her to be there, but she won’t protect her either.

Gwen learns her father will die.

She learns that Miles was an anomaly, too dangerous to interact with. She’s not even allowed to see him.

She falls on others, Hobie and Pavitr are good people who care about her well being.

But she just misses Miles. He understood her, what they’ve lost.

And when a mission comes up from his universe? Of course she snatches up the chance to see him again without angering the only parental figures she has now.

She tried to protect him in the only way that seemed to work, hiding the truth.

But he’s so much more hopeful than she is. He is kind, he’s strong and he knows what it means to be spider man, in spite of everything.

And she has to watch him learn the truth, watch the new parental figures quickly turn against them both.

People who Gwen thought understood, send her back to her own universe by force.

Gwen is 16.

Imagine being a 16 year old girl, going though all of this.

Miles literally makes earthquakes in her life, changes entire trajectories just by existing. He saves her dad, just by proxy.

God. It is so painful to look at these kids. These poor, sweet kids.

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 1

SPOILERS ??!!

now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.

but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3

here’s part 2 !!

mild smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.

leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.

and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.

you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.

miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.

your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.

then silence.

silence….

more silence….

silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.

“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.

“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.

“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“

“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.

“about the situation. miles morales.”

“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.

“it’s more of a personal question for you-“

“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,

“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”

something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.

“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”

“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“

“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.

“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.

“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”

“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.

“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.

“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.

“you’re my assistant, know your place.”

your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.

“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.

“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.

“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”

the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.

“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.

“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”

“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”

“y/n, don’t…”

“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.

“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.

“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.

your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.

“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.

“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.

“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.

“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.

“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.

“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.

“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3

[pr0wlerpunk]

Would they love you as a worm?

And how would they react?

(Platonic!)

Gn!reader

Some of these are short and I’m sorry for that, wrote this at 1:am and I didn’t rlly feel like adding or fixing anything ☹️

Warnings: Slight atsv spoilers!!!, really bad British slang(someone please help), idk if the terms I used for hobie are actual British slang or not….nor do I know how to spell them if they are☹️

Earth-1610!Miles Morales- Definitely(but he Misses human you)

🕷️miles would ABSOLUTELY love you as a worm.

🕷️somehow someway you turn into a worm and miles is so protective.

🕷️I’m talkin’ like dude would keep you so safe, with a little terrarium filled with fresh soil and plants.

🕷️feel like he would also spend nights talkin’ to you and just spilling his problems out.

🕷️one time he got scared that his mom threw you out but she had just moved you…yea he almost had a heart attack

——

“Mom, where’s my little jar I had on my window?”

“Oh uhm….I honestly don’t remember where I put it..”

“…”

“Miles?”

And he’s already gone to look for you around the house.

It took him a hour but he finally found you…in a cabinet.

That night he spent singing sunflower to you

——

Earth-42!Miles Morales- Kinda(he had to think about it)

⛓️ miles would have to warm up to you.

⛓️like 1610 miles, you somehow turn into a worm.

⛓️at first he thinks it’s a joke…but as time moves on he realizes you’re a worm.

⛓️he definitely would keep you safe though.

⛓️like he would keep you fed and made sure you didn’t dry out.

⛓️but like he doesn’t do the whole talk thing.

⛓️the only time he talks to you is when he’s checking on you(like twice a day)

⛓️he definitely hides you from his uncle.

⛓️he’s not ashamed he just doesn’t want to explain how you became a worm because even he doesn’t know.

⛓️though if Aaron ever found out I think he would just stare at miles and walk away.

——

“Yo miles, cmon man we gotta do a ru-”

“…” “…”

“Miles why is there a worm on your desk?…”

“I know it looks weird!!, but somehow [___] got turned into a worm..”

“…”

“Yea… we not doin’ no run today…you can just stay here with uhm…yo worm”

“Yo! Unc, it ain’t Like that!!”

But Aaron’s already out the door

And miles is left as heat flushes his now embarrassing face

——

Hobie Brown- Doesn’t care(but yes)

🎸hobie doesnt care, Like literally it’s your life.

🎸but, he is one of them that would carry you in his pocket.

🎸like dude has a full on pocket full of damp soil just for you.(that’s how he keeps you safe)

🎸he doesn’t know how you got turned into a worm, but like I said earlier he honestly doesn’t care.

🎸if you wanna be a worm…he ain’t gonna stop you.

🎸like 1610!miles, he definitely would talk to you.

🎸like full on conversations though.

🎸like he’s asking you questions and everyone’s just staring thinking he’s finally lost his marbles.

——

“So I was tellin’ bloke-”

“Ay hobie, who’re you talking to?”

“Bruva, you’re tellin’ me you don’t see [___] right er’???”

“…no?”

“That’s botched huh luv?!”

Yea they never came back…

——

Gwen Stacy- Not at first(but she does)

🎵she actually thinks you look stupid at first.

🎵she blames however you got like this on you or miles.

🎵she definitely thought you were ugly.

🎵but then she gets to care for you and ends up loving you.

🎵not the best at protecting you but please don’t be hard on her.

🎵she gets mad when someone tries to mess with you.

🎵like it’s kinda scary.

🎵I’m talkin’ bout full on glare, eyebrows furrowed, right nostril flared and lip curved up slightly.

🎵one day she caught a spider person tapping your glass and she got pissed.

——

“Ay!, why’re tapping the glass?”

“Oh, uhm.!”

“Move. This isn’t a zoo”

“Right! S-sorry!”

“…”

“You ok [___]?”

All in all everyone knew not to mess with Gwen and her worm friend.

——

Jessica Drew- Yes(shes basically your mom now)

🤰🏾she absolutely loves you.

🤰🏾plus she thought it’d be easy practice for when she pops her baby.

🤰🏾is the type to tell someone she has a kid and then show them you

🤰🏾she’s definitely always checking on you.

🤰🏾protects you like a mom should.(kinda)

🤰🏾she cried when she lost you.

🤰🏾one day she set you down to grab a drink and when she came back you were gone.

——

“I’ll be right back [___], don’t move!”

5 minutes later…

“[___]?….[___]!??”

“E-excuse me, but has anyone seen [___]??”

“Uh, who?”

“Their a worm, and they were right here!”

She ended up finding you with Peter B and mayday

She realized this was harder than she originally thought…

——

Miguel- No(He Acts Like he hates you, but secretly would do anything for you)

🕸️dude definitely almost stepped on you once or twice.

🕸️Bros the Type of Person to yell at you After he almost stepped on you.

🕸️but like once he warms up to you he’s definitely carrying you everywhere.

🕸️Like Bro wouldn’t trust you😭.

🕸️or for that matter anyone.

🕸️Like one time, he let Peter B watch You And when he came back mayday was about to eat you.

——

“I got it dude”

“Are You sure You can Watch [___]?”

“Yes now go..literally you’re ruining the mood right now”

10 Minutes later…

“I’m back-”

“PETER!?”

“What!, What!?”

“Your child almost ate [___]…”

“…”

“I’m sorry?”

“…Hijo de puta…”

“Yea i deserve that…”

——

Pav- Yes(He wants to keep you forever..)

🪀Bro thinks you’re the cutest thing hes ever Seen

🪀he definitely calls you his little wormy

🪀he would keep you safe in a while mini House

🪀Like Bro made it And Everything

🪀he doesn’t want you to Turm Back Human

🪀Like…Ever 💀

🪀he definitely Rants to you about EVERYTHING

🪀he told you how miles called Chai, “chai tea”

——

“So im sitting there right And he just Says….Chai tea…”

“LIKE CMON MAN”

“PAV WHO ARE YOU TALKIN TO??!”

“NO ONE MAMA!”

His mom thinks he has an imaginary friend now….

Tags: @alisblackgf

[sukioyakio]

His little Stress Relief

genre: fluff just fluff,(the title doesn’t sound fluffy to me,it probably the amount of amount of smut I read 🤷‍♀️😔🤪💖 Will have some bit of angst

SUMMARY: Sometimes your 6’9 foot tall man can be an little bit clingy at times.

Author note: “I just love me an big Buffy guy being such an clingy and cuddly guy towards their girlfriend (I’m not forgetting about my guys here)anyway I’ve been changing the way how my intro a lot 😭😔🤪.”

ANYway hope you like it.

It was an very busy stressful week for Miguel,everything and everyone was annoying him.The entire spider society was just so stressful to deal with,and when he didn’t have to deal a lot,those stuipd anomaly kept popping up,left and right.

But knowing miguel,he deals with it pushing his body to the limit.He will protect the spider society no matter what,But that doesn’t make him tried and exhausted from working,fighting,yelling at people who get on his skin.The achy scars and bruises on his skin were an pain to deal with.And right now He was in his office or bat cave whatever people says,he was standing on his platform with holograms around.Grumbling about to Lyla to tell some of the spiders that they have an mission to do,and him typing out the information about these anomalies.

peter b Parker who was walking with Jessica drew,they were coming back from their mission,and were going towards to Miguel little bat cave.

“Ughhh,it’s been such a busy week” Peter says in a tired voice,as he stretches his back and his shoulders.

“Oh c’mon now,at least your not the one who has to collect all the mission reports”Jessica says with an annoyed look on her face,sighing at the work that she will have to do later.As she rubs her swollen stomach walking towards Miguel office.

Peter just let out an amused scoff out,as they were walking down the hallway towards the BIG BOSS.

“Don’t you think Miguel would let us slack off for a day!! I haven’t seen my lovely wife and daughter”peter says with a whiny voice,as he made a loud dramatic sigh.

Jessica sigh with a playful smirk on her lips. “Aye man at least after this,we can take a long ass break,cuz my ass need it”She says with a sarcasm,as she let out a chuckle.

Peter suddenly remembered how much Miguel calmed down he was after his wife when Peter asked her if she could come over to talked (helped) him out with Miguel.In which peter had that dorky grin that only means that he had another wonderful idea.

In which Jess turned to look at peter face and saw that grin which in her mind means “he gonna get his ass kick again”,but right before she could say anything to Peter.

“Gotta go bye for now— I’ll be back!” As he zapped off to where Miguel’s wife was.

“DONT do!!— something that will get your ass in the hospital” Jess says in an loud tone but soon lower as she get more closer to Miguel office,she always says that his office is so far away,she rolls her eyes to the back of her head,and letting an scoff out her lips.

She enters Miguel man cave,her heavy but professional steps could be heard from the man who was standing up on his little platform,As she walks in an steady pace and was finally met with Miguel batman era.She stands an few steps ahead but wasn’t quite at the edge of the cliff.She looks up at Miguel,with her one of her hands on her hips and the other one was rubbing her pregnant stomach.

“Ahem” She says loud enough for him to put down his attention from all the work he was doing and putting himself through.Miguel eyes have this dark circles under his eyes,you can tell that this men take his dedication and time for all he does for.But there time where all he takes is to come home to his lovely wife,who his stress reliever.But he does this so people doesn’t have the same fate as him or try to do what he did,nor to do anything that would cause them any harm.

He turned his head towards Jessica,looking down at her,with a sternly expression on his face.He clicked something on his watch to make the platform start moving down towards the ground,very . . . Slowly. very slowly.Jessica wasn’t bothered by it at all,it just meant that she had a time to herself to calm down and free her mind from work.

And in which off letting the platform on the ground nope,he just kept it fairway there,and so he looked at Jess with a sternly and serious expression,and that instantly imitating persona he had.

“Bueno, ¿cómo fue la misión?,and where the hell is Peter”Miguel says in an seriously voice,as one of his eyes brow raises up in question of where would that idiot of the worlds most talkative person you would ever meet,would be possibly be.As he stares at Jess for an good minute before letting out an annoyed sigh,pinching the bridge of his very strong nose,grunting at how much of an goof ball peter is.

“Well I came here to say that the mission was a success,but the part with Peter,better watch out for him and don’t kill him we need him” she says with an playful laugh as she walks out the door with an open smile on her face.

To which Miguel rolls his eyes to back of his head,and went back to work and there he was back working in his bat cave.Calling Layla to inform him about any updates about the anomaly’s,and to inform the other spider in the spider society.Some times layla would be annoying (an tease) to him.But after an hour or so,(peter was having difficulty finding which house is Miguel house) Peter finally came with you into Miguel office,with his cheeky techniques.

Miguel didn’t even get a chance to react to when Peter opened the portal onto his platform.

“Hello!!Big Boss” peter say with a cheerful voice,having a bright smile on his lips.”Look who I brought with him”he says with a warm smile.

The moment he turned around he saw you,with Peter.Holding a worry smile on your face.While peter was standing there with a cheeky expression,Miguel let out an annoyed sigh towards peter.He face was turning more angry then before,his eyes turning the color red.

“¡¡Por qué carajo!!Did you bring my wife here WITHOUT MY DAWN MALDITO permission!” He says with a raging voice,practically shaking the ground,easily making peter gulped down his own saliva.”im soooooooooo getting my ass in an hospital bed” peter said in his head of thoughts.

But luck was on his side for now. . .

“Peter go back doing work I’ll have a little chat with my husband”you said softly as ever to him,with a calmly smile.Giving him a look that gesture for him to leave.In which he did,He left with an awkward chuckle,and he gone.

Now you and Miguel were now alone in his big bat cave.Miguel aromatically regretted for having you see him get angry at his co worker.He hated for you to see him anger,he was insecure about how you felt about him.You words were the light of joy to his ears,but your words could be the ones that made him feel trapped.If he ever told you that he’ll be so vulnerable towards you his wife.Your the thing,the love,the drug,the crave,the addiction that he would never get over.

He was probably over thinking for a while,that he woke up from your reassuring touch.Pulling him to the ground so he could lay down on your thighs.He would do anything for you.

“Until death due us apart”

Now you both are on the floor on Miguel floating platform in silence;comforting silence.

You were sitting upright while patting,scratching, rubbing your hands against Miguel scalp.He looks like a little boy who only wanted to be next to his mama.After a few more minutes of the comfortable silence.You knew that he was very insecure about himself,especially after getting married and even before getting married,when you two were boyfriend and girlfriend,you knew he had some insecurities.

“Miguel I love you . .” You says with a calmly voice,calming him down.

Signal him to talk about what happened during this week

He instantly opened up about what happened at work,and all the exhaustion he endured,and the BS he gotten this week,basically vented about how much work and Be an hero was like a curse and an blessing.

He had that Grumpy Pouty on his beautiful lips,he just an enough of laying on the floor-ahem platform,and So he pulls you down on the floor,as he lays comfortably on tops of you.

You let out a light headed chuckles,He was your big scary,intimidating husband who can break any guys bones,but right now he’s acting very clingy with you.

You let him know that your love him so much,that seeing him like this pains you slowly but deeply in your heart.He was laying on top of your chest,in between of your breast.Letting him melt all his problems away.

“I’m sorry. . .no lady should have to seen what had happened with my co worker” he says with his eyes closed not wanting to be seen vulnerable.

As he continues to mumble apologies,to the point that he says like a whiny child.You couldn’t help but laugh at him being a whiny cringy child.

“What so funny about me apologizing,mhmm cariño”he said to you as he raised his head to look at your eyes. Seeing you laugh,seeing you felt like the world was pause,his body felt so calm.

“Ha-ha,your are my clingy hobby.You could be one whiny old man.” You said with a playfully voice,as you felt him lift your body put you into his laps.You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m not an old man,nor a whiny kid.Im literally just 3 years older then you” Miguel says with a whiny voice,as he rolls his eyes.

You know he love it.You already know that he’s ok,that he is no more tense.

“I still love you gramps” you said as you leaned towards his face to give him a passionate kiss,which he accepted.Love was felt through your body.

as you both end the kiss,leaning on each other forehead.

“I love you” you said softly with a warm smile.

“Yo también” he says softly with a warm smile.

THE END

I hope y’all like it,and I probably suck explaining the positions of them but IM trying 😄 anyway I hope y’all enjoy it,but I low key think I put so much fluff here

THE QOUTE OF THE DAY: by an friend

“THE day can be boring when nothing eventful happens”

✌️

[xan-izme]

Platonic! slightYandere Miguel x teen reader

(Was literally watching the movie while making this)

Okay, lets run this one last time.

My name is Y/n L/n, I got bit by a radioactive spider. And for the past two years I have been the one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-woman. You probably know the rest.

Beat a few bad guys, got hit by a few cars- don't ask. Go through my daily routine, take care of my family. Saved my brother. I . . . couldn't save my best friend, Miles Morals.

Beat up more bad guys. Me and Miles kind of, stopped being friends. Yeah, things kind of went downhill for me. One day, I was just doing my usual save the city thing. When some portal sucked me in!

I back home, but it wasn't my home. Fast forward, I was in a universe where Miles is the Spidey, me and other Spiders help him save the multiverse and we get back home.

But a year after I got back home. A villain showed up, one I couldn't defeat. My pops died saving me. My whole family found out about me being spider-woman.

After that I had to leave them. It was for their own safety. Mine as well

And I guess that is how I ended up in the Spider society.

-You were recruited into the Spider society by Jessica Drew. You were still hung up about your father and leaving the rest of your family. So, you stayed silent. Stuck with Jessica most of the time.

-When you and Meguel first met, there was a little tension between the two of you.

-But the more you stuck around. The more you and Meguel got close with each other, you two didn't have a chatty relationship. Just silent. No words were needed with you two.

-Miguel had strong feelings to keep you close. You were so broken. Your canon was to lose your brother, making you feel the need to protect the people. Your father's death was to make you stronger. Of course, it was to take time. Meguel never saw your progress of healing, but he sees you almost every day. And every time, your face is battered up.

-You do certain things to cope with your father's death, things kid's your age should be doing. So, when Meguel found out (#lyla a snitch) he was pissed.

You were sitting in the lounge, laying on the couch as Jessica was giving you a report on how your family was doing. Suddenly, Miguel came marching in the room, your small stash bag in hand.

"Miguel?" You spoke up. When you noticed your stash bag, you quickly got out your couch and followed him.

"Yo, Miguel. That's my bag!" You were speed walking at this point. Miguel opened the door to the bathrooms.

He opened the trash can. He looked at you with a stern expression.

"This-" he held up the bag in the air "-- Is unexpectable. You understand me!?" You stood by the doors, slowly approaching Miguel "Just put the bag down, and let me explain."

"Explain? no querio tus malditas excusa. No more."

Miguel was about to throw the bag in the trash

"No- Shit. Miguel! the fuck is your problem!"

"oop-" Lyla could be heard from behind. Meguel stayed silent. He kicked open a stall and dumped everything in the toilet.

"Oh my- No! no no no!" You ran towards the toilet, only to be held back by Meguel and pushed away.

"Look mi hija. I don't care if that, was your way to cope. I don't want to see this shit anymore. Understand?" Meguel reached out to you. But you slapped his hand away and scowled.

"Don't fucking touch me." You turned around and stormed off.

-It hurt Miguel when you refused to talk or even look at him. You were mad, but he wanted you to know that this wasn't okay. He blamed the fact that you would be with Hobbie all the damn time.

-It took a few months, but you eventually forgave him. Knowing that he was just doing what any other parent would do. You know what happened with Miguel and his daughter. You felt that the two of you had somewhat familiar wounds.

-You would stick with Miguel more often. He would be working as you were crouching down on the ground, playing with toys Jessica gave you.

-Miguel enjoyed watching you act like a baby when you played with the toys silently. He made sure to keep you close. He has been saying words of manipulation to make sure you never do anything bad like before or keep any secretes. He knows you're not going to tell him everything, but he wants to know every detail. To keep you safe.

-What makes you feel more guilty about doing anything or saying anything that could hurt Miguels feelings, is when he does practically anything you ask. Want something homemade? he'll do it. Want to go to your world or a different universe just to go to the mall or theaters? he'll let you, as long as you are assisted by either him or Jessica.

-So now if he does something you don't really agree with, you just complain a little and just wait it out. Because you feel bad if you actively go against him. After everything Miguel has done for you.

-And that is exactly how Miguel wanted things to be. For you to obey and stay out of trouble. Then Miles came to the spider society. Miguel made sure to keep you occupied with a mission back on your earth. So, he can finally deal with Miles.

-You have spoken about Miles Morales multiple times before. Both the Miles from your earth and the one from earth 1610. You clearly care for both of them. And Miguel knows how you get when people you care about are in a situation, you're not fully fond of.

-Miguel also hopped deep down, you would side with him. Hoping all of his hard work to wiggle his way into your trust will pay off.

You sighed as you slipped off your mask. You had a long day. Your earth was safe for the time being from any other anomaly. When you entered the portal. Your Spidey senses were tingling. You were quick to search around you. You were in the lounge. Shrugging, you made your way to where Miguel should be.

"Yo! I'm back." You entered the room holding some drinks for you and Miguel, and a little something for Jessica. But your eyes are met with an awkward scean.

Miles was there. Why weren't you told about this? your usually talked about incoming visitors or guest who are in already.

"Y/n!" Miles jogged to you with a smile. He was happy to see another familiar face. You chuckled as you and Miles gave each other a quick hug before your hand rested on his head.

"Hey. . . . Que haces aqui. " You looked up to scan the room once more. Miguel stared the two of you down, Gwen glanced at you before slowly avoiding eye contact.

As Miles went on and on about his little adventure here. You took his hand into yours and walked with him back towards Gwen.

"A-and I was just wondering. You know Spot. I got some ideas-"

Suddenly, Miguel threw a desk along with the empanada on the groaned towards Miles. You were unphased as it passed you, Gwen and Miles ducking down to not get hit.

"He's worried about Spot- I'll worry about Spot!" Miguel was in a burst of anger. You groan and roll your eyes. "W-what did I do?" Miles asked quickly. He was nervous, and you felt bad. This was why you didn't want Miles to be here.

"Ay, calmate, esto no es su culpa." You covered Miles with your body.

"He blew another hole in the multiverse!" Miguel shouted again.

You sighed as Gwen defended Miles. Miguel scolded Gwen about her knowing better. He moved on to Hobbie who he just got frustrated at by looking at him and ignored him. Peter B showed up.

You let the other three have their small reunion. You shot a web and swung up to where Miguel was having a stressful brake down.

"Miguel, por favor, Miles no sabe nada. Se amble con el." You put your hand on his arm. He put his own over yours and took a deep breath and fully turned towards you. You caught Mayday and held her in your arms. Miguel was visibly annoyed by Peter B as you just chuckled at how excited Peter is and proud of Mayday.

You felt a slight pain in your chest. Your mother used to do that all the time.

Things went to shit instantly. In a blink of an eye. It went from simply seeing all the canons then to Miles being surrounded by multiple spider-men.

". . . Miguel, Miles is right." That was all you had to say to break the older man's stoic expression. He gave you a look of utter confusion.

"Miles just wants to save his dad! He wants to save an innocent life. Isn't that what we do?" Miguel inhaled deeply.

"He could destroy everything! Mi hija, if you knew about your father's fate, knowing what it could do if you saved him." Miguel got into your face as you kept composer.

Your eyes glanced to Miles. Meeting his big eyes that shined with so much hope. No matter what. You know that this Miles with you at the moment was your Miles.

The Miles you failed to save, the son of the mother who you had to comfort at his funeral, the nephew of the man who hated you for killing him.

But you also know, you have the power to prevent any more pain come to him. To keep him save. And if that means going against the man that took you in, cared and even gave you fatherly love, then so be it.

"In a heartbeat."

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

The Heir to House Atreides Pt. 3

Masterlist

Pairing: Young Duke Leto Atreides x (Lady Jessica) reader

Tags: NSFW, smut, political intrigue, enemies to lovers, oral (f receiving), sex, kissing, penetration, humor, drugs, spice

A delegation from Arakis came to visit Caledan, bringing the coveted spice "melange" as a gift offering. In your training, you've studied spice and its tremendous effect on the human psyche. But you've never actually used it.

The pale representatives of House Harkonen - two men and a woman dressed in black leathers - arrived holding a special spice diffuser that their scientists have created, releasing it as an aerosol into the Duke's courtroom.

The effect was almost instant.

Using your training, you shielded your mind, staying focused on not letting yourself be influenced.

All the women around you on the cushions - the harem - began to sigh and leaned to comfortable positions on the cushions, letting out soft giggles. Their eyes took on a blue hue.

Your worried gaze sought Leto immediately. He was leaning back on his throne, jaw flexing as his teeth ground together. His open chest rose and fell slowly under his unbuttoned silks. But the tell was obvious. There was a blue, dreamy hue to his eyes that matched the rest of the room. He was affected. But trying to mask it.

Suddenly, one of the Harkonen visitors stepped up to Leto's throne. A calm, subtle move. She had her gaze cast down - practically devouring Leto with her eyes. Your hangs clenched into fists as a protective pulse triggered within you. You didn't want her looking at your - at Leto that way.

Suddenly, a shini g flash drew your attention, and you saw what she hid. A small blade tucked in her sleeve.

Leto was too disoriented to notice. You felt your heart speed up.

You were in front of him in a beat.

"Your grace, stay behind me!" You shielded him, bringing your gand to clutch her wrists. You pushed on her pressure points, and she opened her palms and dropped the blades to the ground with a metal clang.

In an instant, Leto's guards were at your sides, hauling her back.

In the commotion, you forgot to shield yourself against the spice, and the lightheaded sensation overtook you instantly. You gasped, feeling your knees buckled, and before you could stop yourself, you fell, slowly and gradually.

His arms caught you, lowering you to his lap and gathering your skirts in his hands.

You blinked several times, trying to gain focus through all of the commotion. The next thing you knew, you were being led out out of the room and into a safe room with him.

The overwhelming relief of having saved him warred with the surge of something deeper within you. Something hot and unrestrained. A sycadellic pull toward him. As the spice clouded your mind, your control and discipline began to slip, allowing your hidden feelings of admiration for him to surface.

"Your grace," You reached for him.

When you finally saw Leto, the substance enhanced his already existing beauty. You noticed flecks of gold in his eyes, a slight flush over his cheeks, the bitten skin of his parted lips, the light stubble along his jaw, the curls of his hair dropping over his eyes as they gazed lovingly at you.

You reached for him instinctively, your hand brushing his hand. The contact made your breath hitch, the warmth of his skin seeping through you.

"Your Grace," you whispered again, your voice trembling. But before you could say more, his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

He brought his lips down on yours.

"You saved me," he murmured, his voice rough and low, his breath fanning across your lips. His mouth against yours, the taste of spice lingering.

Every movement seemed sharper, more defined, as if the world had slowed just for the two of you. You could hear the quiet rasp of his breathing, see the faint sheen of sweat on his temple, and feel the electric pull of his gaze.

The logical part of your mind was screaming to hold back, but the spice blocked it, leaving only him. Him, him, him...

His scent, his eyes, his warmth, his presence, and the way your body responded to it.

Your touch was like fire against his skin. He could hear nothing other than your shallow breaths, feel the soft brush of your smooth skin against his, and taste the sweetness of the melange on your lips.

The kiss was a collision of heightened sense, every unguarded thought the spice had unlocked in him. The Duke's hand tangled in your hair as the feel of you and the effect of the spice made his vision swim.

The barriers he kept so carefully constructed faltered under the weight of the spice.

Your bravery and strength had stunned him. The way you moved to shield him from the attack with such precision and fearlessness had his eyes widening in awe back in his courtroom.

But now, in the aftermath, you were vulnerable, leaning into him, and he couldn’t look away. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a surge of something primal through him. It wasn’t admiration anymore. It was need.

Overwhelmed by the sight of you, he marveled in the sound of your voice and the way your eyes softened when they met his.

Leto picked you up in his arms and walked you towards the bed. He lay you down, planting wet, desperate kisses on your cheeks, then along your jaw, down your neck, collar, and breasts. Lowering the top of your dress to expose your breasts, he took one in each hand. A perfect fit. Perfect and terrifying like everything else about you.

He was overcome woth the need to feel close to you and he lowered his mouth to suck on your nipple, while rolling its twin between his fingers.

"Your grace!" You gasped. "Please, I..."

"I know," he rasped. He felt it, too. He wanted to keep you with him at this moment. To make it last forever. He wanted you to bear his heirs. You, you powerful, cunning witch who seduced him to further her sister's agenda and yet threw yourself in danger to save his life.

He bit down on your nub, sending a spark of pleasure straight to your core.

Your hand shot up to cup your mouth as you arched your back, grasping at his hair as he lowered down to level with your sex. Lifting up your skirts, he watched your naked opening. Before you could catch your breath, you felt his tongue traw smooth shapes between your lips, making your tense up. You began to understand the allure and danger of spice. This was the most surreal experience you've ever felt during intimacy. You couldn't contain your weka noises nor your body as it shuttered helplessly under his expert mouth. "Please, please, my Duke. I cannot stand much longer-"

Before you could finish your sentence, a wave of pleasure rolled through you from deep within, attacking all of your senses, you felt it to your fingertips.

Your head rolled back, hair spilling over your face as you shook for minutes on end, chasing what seemed like the longest climax you've ever had. When your boddy began to tremor with aftershock, your eyelids became heady.

"Not yet, love." Leto’s dreamlike voice brought you back to consciousness. "I want to feel you around me."

You nodded excitedly. You wanted the same thing but could only express it through a series of moans of the word. "Please, please, please..."

He'd allined himself against your opening. He was painfully hard and needed to feel you, or he would surely lose his mind. Entering you slowly, the heat of your walls around him felt like heaven. He moaned, seeking out more of your touch. He grasped your wrists above your head and kissed you long and hard, relishing the way your moans mixed with his.

Whether he sped up or slowed down, the outcome was the same pleasurable pulse rushing through his body.

"Fuck," he'd gasped with a strained voice, pumping in and out of you. "Oh fuck, Jessica. I can't get enough of you."

You sympathized. The feeling was wholeheartedly mutual.

There was a knock at the door.

"Not now." Leto growled before diving back down to plant more kisses along your sweat soaked skin.

He sped up, and you both began to strain, the chase new, undiscovered levels of love that you could only provide to one another. Before long, your climax reached you, making the two of you shake and cry out in a tangle of limbs and unimaginable pleasure.

Even as the haze of the spice began to lift, its effects lingered, leaving the world sharper, more vivid. The ghost of Leto’s touch still clung to you, and the weight of his gaze felt as though it had been burned into you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, seeking stability, yet something felt different - an unfamiliar presence, subtle but undeniable, stirring deep within your belly.

Your breath hitched as the realization soread. Instinctively, your hands flew to your stomach, trembling as they pressed against the soft silk of your nightdress.

This was no fleeting effect of the spice. No lingering haze clouding your thoughts. This was life. New and small.

You staggered back a step, clutching at your middle as the truth settled in: the Duke’s legacy, the one you were sent here to create, had already begun.

And yet, it wasn’t the Sisterhood’s prophecy that brought emotions to your chest—it was something far more dangerous. A love for this child. A need to protect and raise it as more than a pawn.

◇◇

"It is done, then," the Reverend Mother Mohiam intoned, her voice echoing with finality across the room.

Your eyes darted to Leto, sitting at his council room instinctively, searching for his reaction, your gaze moving protectively to your stomach as though shielding a fragile secret now laid bare.

Leto’s gaze followed the movement, narrowing before it widened with realization. A heavy silence fell over the room.

Leto’s jaw clenched, and with measured intensity, he pushed himself up from the table and strode toward you, every step commanding, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. "Leave us," he barked.

The Reverend Mother’s expression was satisfied, almost smug before bowing gracefully. Her robes flowed against the floor as she exited, leaving the two of you alone.

You turned to Leto, his eyes dropped to your stomach, then lifted to meet yours. His face was unreadable, his lips pressed into a thin line as he studied you. The weight of his scrutiny made your pulse quicken.

"Are you pregnant?" His voice was low, controlled, but you heard the faint tremor beneath. Was it anger, shock?

You drew yourself up, letting years of training steel your composure. "I am," you said, the words steady but soft, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His brows furrowed, the expression making him look younger, less the noble Duke and more a man standing at the precipice of change. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, his emotions warring in the depths of his hazel eyes.

Then, to your utter surprise, his lips parted with a soft laugh. His arms opened suddenly, pulling you into his embrace with a tenderness that stole your breath.

"You carry my child," he murmured against your hair, the words reverent. His grip tightened as though as though he could lose you at any moment.

You closed your eyes, unsure whether to feel triumphant, terrified, or touched by the warmth of his reaction. You wispered a promise to him then. "I will protect him with my life."

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Shooting the Messenger

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x Fem!Harkonnen Reader

Summary: Following the Battle of Arrakeen, House Harkonnen remains decimated. With Baron Harkonnen’s corpse slowly rotting in the sand and Feyd Rautha thrown amidst a pile of burning bodies, Reader is left with no choice but to hide amidst the rubble of the city in the hope of eventually escaping before being killed. Unfortunately, the bastard child of Emmi Harkonnen finds herself cornered, incapable of escaping from the clutches of the still surviving Atreides clan. (Emmi Harkonnen is the wife of Abulurd Harkonnen, brother to the Baron Harkonnen- NO INCEST!!!!).

Warnings: Dark circumstances (war, murder, death), complimentary Stockholm/Lima syndromes dynamic, grey-morality, abuse of power (Jessica), spitting

A/N: I’ve leaned more into the circumstances of the Dune books, specifically with Alia being born before the Battle of Arrakeen. If pregnant women are your thing, good for you, but I’m not into pursuing a relationship with a woman pregnant with a psychic, talking baby that observes everything going on from inside the womb. (Authored with inspiration and council from @ilovehotactresses- Here ya go buddy). This is all worldbuilding, no sexy times, I apologize. I legit cannot comprehend this woman fucking someone just 'cause she can. More sexy times later, I promise, promise, promise!!

Word Count: 3.3k

House Harkonnen had fallen. Baron Harkonnen was dead. Feyd Rautha, his successor, laid upon a pile of Sardaukar and Harkonnen soldiers, slowly being burned by flames on the sands of the fallen city. You had lost track of Beast Rabban, your oldest half-brother. It mattered not, you hated both of your half-brothers, the dead Feyd Rautha most especially. But regardless of resentment and old wounds, you were left without protection. Finding a dark, well hidden corner of the fallen city was difficult. But you did. Panting, in between collapsing from exertion and crying out of fear, you'd found a corner. Making yourself as small as possible, you covered your ears and froze.

"Reverend Mother, you cannot go into this sector! It is not secured!" a voice echoed down the halls.

"I don't have another option. Alia has spoken to me of her. I must find this remaining vestibule of the Harkonnen throne, the one that remains, the living heir." a voice rasped.

Silence. The room fell silent, and the footsteps disappeared. It must have been an illusion of some sort, a trick of the senses. Those voices and footfalls had been near, therefore the woman who spoke should have been near.

"There you are. Rise."

A force greater than you pulled you up, causing you to put pressure on your lacerated, probably fractured leg. You cried out in pain, but you remained standing.

"Nevermind. Kneel."

You kneeled, the force of your knees on the stone caused white hot pain to flash up your body. Hands cupped your face, pushing back the veil that hid your hair.

"Ahh, so you're half-Harkonnen? The rumours are true.. You're Emmi Harkonnen's bastard, her little mistake." the woman cooed, stroking over the hair repeatedly. "Precious, so precious. You'd make a poor heir. But we have to ensure that, don't we?"

You could only wheeze, looking up at the veiled woman in spite and fear.

"Oh, if you've heard the rumors, you've most certainly heard of my rumored fathers." you managed.

Reverend Mother Jessica drew closer.

"No, I most certainly haven't."

Glaring up at her intentionally, you smirked in recognition of the advantage you had.

"I was supposedly conceived during an Imperial caucus, the product of an affair. But I've heard the whispers. I may have been the product of none other than your deceased Duke Leto."

The slap that landed across your cheeks was resonant, and humiliating. No matter how much pride one has, slaps can never be any less humiliating than nature intends them to be. Tears collect in your eyes from the force, and you're knocked backwards, or to the side, depending on the direction of the slap.

"You will not speak of such things." Mother Jessica seethed.

"It doesn't matter if I was his bastard. This was several years before he met you."

Her hands encircled your throat, and you were met with the steely blue eyes of the Reverend Mother in the flesh.

"Shut your mouth. I have one purpose for you, and if you do not fulfill it, you will find how little life has left to offer you."

"-I'm a bastard child, there was never-"

"Sleep."

Jessica could only look with a mix of relief and victory as the Harkonnen slumped forward, pushed into a dream-like state by her command of the Voice. This child was a fighter, she knew it to be true. But she hadn't slapped the young woman out of spite, or fear, rather it had been merely annoying to suggest she was the Duke's child. Jessica knew her deceased concubine well, she knew that if he had made such a mistake as sleeping with the wife of a royal Harkonnen it would have come out before his death, most certainly under the pressure of the move to Arrakis. Not to mention the child in front of her did not look like her duke. She'd know his features anywhere; they were burned into her soul.

"Pesky, belligerent. More Harkonnen than I'd like to admit." Jessica muttered to herself. "Pick her up and have her treated for her wounds. She is useful, for the time being."

The Sayyadina that surrounded her nodded, and a Fremen soldier appeared, hauling the war-worn woman up, towards a medical unit. Jessica knew that her injuries would not be attended to at all if she did not press the matter, so she ensured that the girl was brought into her chambers, that her Sayyadina would oversee the matter to fruition. In the meantime, she had the council of her child Alia to attend to.

"It is done?" the toddler asked, voice uncharacteristically adult, in a tiny little body of a girl.

"Yes, the Harkonnen bastard will be attended to." Jessica murmured.

Her daughter came forward, crawling into her mother's lap. Regardless of her mental age, the body begged for connection from her mother, the soul too.

"She is more than just a bastard, she could be very useful to Paul's cause." Alia mused, childish voice still containing a hint of a lisp.

Jessica hummed, stroking the blonde curls that were springing from her daughter's scalp.

"How do I manipulate her to our needs?"

Alia furrowed her brow, thinking carefully. It seemed the little girl blessed with such mental and psychic foresight was momentarily at a loss for words, carefully considering her next proposal.

"She is like her brother. She has wounds, desires, all of which are accessed through physicality, through sexual manipulation." the girl spoke.

Jessica looked at her daughter carefully.

"So, I bed her?"

Alia shook her head.

"Seduction comes in many ways. If it pleases you to engage with her like that..." but Alia did not finish the thought. "It is not necessary to go all the way."

Jessica hummed, returning to petting her daughters curls. Upon inspection, they were covered in dirt and sand. It was natural for the Caladan born woman to immediately think of baths, but on Arrakis no such luxury could exist. Her daughter was of the desert, conceived upon Arrakis, of this Jessica was sure. Secondly was the matter of her daughter's strange connection to the sands. Alia smelled of the desert, an eerie quality Jessica could not explain. Truth be told, the warrior-child scared her. The mere toddler, the small body that contained such irreputable wisdom and violence, it was a body that should have glowed with innocence, of mindless naivety.

"Mother, of what do you think?" Alia asked, seemingly sensing the dark, contemplative nature of her mother.

"Of matters that you need not concern yourself with, my daughter." Jessica answered curtly. "... I have but one request. Stop wielding those knives. Your mind is old, but your body is young.."

"-I will be fine." Alia shrugged, hopping off of her mother's lap, walking away.

Watching her daughter display such independence was exhaustingly emotional. Jessica felt the tell-tale sign of her eyes burning, and the willpower it took to restrain the tears that begged to fall was more exhausting than just allowing her body to release a few drops of water. Walking away, Jessica moved towards the body that lay prone some distance aways. Jessica yearned for something to care for, something that needed her, someone that would be loyal, and innocent in the nature of the world in ways that her children could not be. Jessica wanted something to call hers, and hers alone.

<------------->

Glowing light burned through the windows of the conquered city of Arrakis. Smoke wafted through the main palace, the smell tinged with burning hair and flesh. It was grotesque, the smell unforgettable. It reeked of murder, of shed blood.

"Ahh, she awakes." a voice purred, hands encircling you, a face coming into focus.

Blue eyes of the desert came into view. Tattoos, marks of prophecy; symbols your mind could not comprehend adorned her face. Hair, brown and dark, hints of grey peppered in amongst the rest of her straight hair.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, and her breath was unnaturally odorless. The product of fasting, you assumed.

"You may call me Lady Jessica, if that suits you." the woman murmured. "Or Reverend Mother."

Lady Jessica Atreides, mother of Paul Atreides, the Lisan al Gaib, Muad'dib of the Fremen, prophet, the mind to bridge time and space. The mother of the demon-child Alia, St. Alia of the Knife, abomination, Reverend Mother, that which should have remained unborn. You knew her well. You knew of her hell-spawn, her corruption, her disregard for higher authority. She submitted to her son, but that was an illusion, you assumed.

"No." you rasped. "No, no, no, no!"

Jessica pressed a hand over your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh," she cooed. "No fear, no cries for help. None of it will make a difference for what I have planned for you."

Since you were a child, since before you had the ability to comprehend the complexities of being a Harkonnen, of being a but a half-breed, you'd always known that it had been okay to run to your mother. Scraped knee? Mother. Your older brothers cornering you? Run to mother. Maids jeering and bothering you? Mother. Lonely, scared and wet after an acid polluted thunderstorm caught you and burned your skin red and painful? Mother. It was in these moments of foolish vulnerability that your heart would sing for that connection, that safety. It was futile. Emmi Harkonnen had died years prior.

"Hmm... Alia may have made her first mistake." Jessica mused, dissecting your fearful micro-expressions. "Or only partly right."

Jessica's hands reached up, cupping your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. Thumbs glided over your brows, analyzing your expressions carefully.

"No... You'll be much easier to crack this way..."

Hauling you up and into her arms felt deceptively easy for Jessica. Her body had hardened and grown sinewy with tough, resistant muscle the longer she remained in the desert. She drew you to her breast, resting head in the crook of her armpit. She reeked of sweetness, of sweat long dried, of the unmistakable tang of spice.

"There... Don't fight it, don't try to hide away." Jessica whispered, her breath now sickly sweet, from low-blood sugar, you guessed.

"You need to stop fasting." you murmured. "Your breath is sweet."

Jessica laughed a little, cradling you closer.

"I have complete control of my bodily functions. You need not concern yourself with the matters of my health."

Hands dragged over the cloth clothes the Sayyadina had pulled over you. Bandages covered your body in innumerable places, your leg was especially bandaged, the product of the fracture you'd sustained. Jessica continued stroking your face, pulling you closer, fingers desperately combing through your hair.

"It's been so long since someone's needed me... Even my own daughter outgrew the need for me once she was a year old..." Jessica whispered, her face showing signs of paranoia, of unmistakable jealous rage. "The Bene Gesserit have taken so much from me... My mother first, then my innocence, my connection with my Duke, my son's innocence, the life of my beloved, even my own daughter."

There was a madness in her eyes that could not be explained. She was strong, ruthless, ready to take and take and milk the desert of every last devotion to her cause, to her children that it could offer. But yet with all that work, with all that pain and suffering she'd put forth, her children grew farther apart from her. Jessica grabbed at the Harkonnen woman with desperation, pulling her in as close as their mortal forms could allow.

"No, you will be mine and you will love me."

"Let me go, I want to go home." you protested, trying to wiggle out of the woman's arms.

The madness in her eyes grew brighter, and she smiled obscenely.

"But you are home."

"I live on Giedi Prime." you whimpered.

Jessica let out a laugh so harsh it might have been mistaken for screech.

"Giedi Prime? No child. I could not send you back to your decaying father, to the dark, colorless, soulless world of Giedi Prime. You belong to me now. Arrakis will be your home. Then, one day, when the time comes, you and I will return to Caladan. We will live on the cliffs, the oceans will sing to us, the breeze... We will remember the good days, and make them ours once again..."

The woman in front of you, the woman who cradled you was haunted, deranged in ways that could not be explained. Whether she had been pushed too far by the loss of her house and her beloved Duke, or whether it had been the Fremen Spice Agony that had caused her to be so utterly consumed by her desires, by her visions of Paul and his propheted status as the Lisan al Gaib.

"I want to be close to my mother." you whispered.

This gave Jessica some pause, she stalled her frantic massage of your scalp, your neck, your face.

"I could be your mother, if you wanted." she whispered. "I could be that for you... I could be whatever you needed, just so long as you needed me."

Jessica seemed on the verge of a breakdown of some sort. Whether it would result in violence, in verbal aggression, tears, yelling or complete psychosis, she was close to cracking all the way.

"I just. Need you. To need me." Jessica whispered.

Pity. The first feeling that came over you when she said those words. The woman in front of you was fearsome, yes. But the truth was she was broken. For all the psychic enhancement and wisdom she'd maintained, she was scarred and brutalized, a thing of beauty and willpower turned feral and menacing due to the elements of the desert planet Arrakis. It was a look you'd seen in your mother, days before Feyd had murdered her. An animal cornered, and animal bearing it's teeth and striking out at anything that dared confront it. Fear. For all of Jessica's training and years of containing her fears, she had never conquered one. Jessica Atreides, Reverend Mother and widower of the Duke Atreides, daughter of the Baron Harkonnen, mother of the most fearsome leader of the advanced times was afraid of being abandoned, of no longer being needed.

"... I don't want a mother... I don't think I could bear treating another woman with the same type of affections as I gave my mother."

Jessica's face spasmed in grotesque anger and betrayal.

"But I need someone. And I don't have anyone to turn to."

She swallowed, a vein on her forehead bulging with the stress of containing her emotions.

"I am that person." she rasped, voice coming out in violent puffs of air. "No one else will put up with you, no one else will bother keeping you alive. You are stuck on Arrakis. The Harkonnen troops are dead, Grossu Rabban is dead. No one will come to save you." Jessica sneered, violently digging her hands into your hair. "The Bene Gesserit will abandon Princess Irulan here as the bride of Paul, the Emperor will retreat back to House Corrino with the Bene Gesserit. They will not bother hauling a bastard such as yourself with you."

Her words rang harsh, true. You needed the woman in front of you to survive, and you suspected that without someone to love, to love her back in the ways she needed, she too would find herself irrevocably insane.

"I know."

"Silence!"

Your mouth clamped shut, teeth clacking together aggressively. Jessica let out a low whimper, holding you close. She seemed to be muttering in a foreign language, eyes glazed from effort. It was becoming apparent that Jessica did not have control over her body as she said she did, or, more accurately, she was pushing it to limits that were unsustainable. You managed to reach for a glass of water. Jessica did not notice. Your throat begged for moisture, you needed the water as much as she did, but if she died and you didn't... No one would keep you alive.

"..." you tried to speak, but the command remained.

Bringing the cup to her lips, you managed to coax her into drinking. Jessica's hands flew to the cup, gulping down the water greedily. You suspected it was the first time she'd had water in days. Dates lay on the table. Again you were presented with the dilemma of eating it and fueling your weak body or giving it to the weakened Jessica. You brought the dates to her mouth, one by one until they were gone. She appeared to recover gradually. As her senses came to her, she called out to a Sayyadina, requesting something.

"You are wiser than I thought." Jessica murmured. "I had not realized how long I had been fasting."

The Sayyadina returned with food, hot and earthy smelling. She handed you a bowl, allowing yourself to eat without help. But as you struggled with coordinating in the awkward position, she ultimately grabbed the bowl, spoon feeding you like a child. Water was provided, and the relief it brought was indescribable. Jessica finished her own portion of food, ingesting more water. She appeared to be healthier now, more content and less capable of descending into madness.

"There. Now we are both taken care of." Jessica smiled. "You may speak now, the command only lasts for as long as I wish it to."

You looked around, seemingly looking for something to say to test your ability to speak, but found none. Jessica noticed this, humming appreciatively.

"Alright then, if I must speak first, so be it. You said that you did not need a mother. Of that I can understand, but do not necessarily agree with. Everyone needs a mother figure in their life, until middle adulthood I would imagine. You are young still, you require coaxing, teaching, nurturing."

Jessica's words were wise, of that you could not argue with.

"But you do not wish for a mother figure. I will not press the matter. I will allow you to naturally find that mother figure, but, you will receive all of your needs for companionship, for safety, for community directly through me."

Her words contradicted themselves, but dwelling on it seemed unwise. Jessica leaned forward, searching your eyes with hers in a way that seemed uncannily invasive.

"I'll find exactly how you need me." Jessica whispered. "Don't worry."

Her breath smelled of the curry she'd eaten. It was hot, no longer tinged with sweetness. And her eyes danced in ways that seemed almost provocative.

"... Oh no. I retract my earlier statement. My daughter was right." she whispered, voice a little husky, slightly hoarse.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nails snagging on the thin fabric, making contact with the skin beneath your pants.

"Desire."

The command inflamed your injury-restricted desires, white-hot lust burning through your body in maddening ways.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try that." Jessica smiled, eyes a little manic as she watched heat bloom over your cheeks. "Open your mouth."

It wasn't a direct command infused with the Voice, but in your altered state, it might as well have been.

"Accept the gift of my water." Jessica whispered, spitting into your mouth.

In any other circumstance, the act would have been seen as ridiculously demeaning, but combined with your basic knowledge of Fremen culture and the lust-addled state of your brain, it was enough to cause a slight gasp to fall from your lips. Jessica let out a soft laugh, kissing your cheek forcefully.

"Swallow."

You did as obeyed, her spit sliding down your throat. Jessica caught the motion with her lips, savoring the act.

"Again." Jessica whispered, hand holding your jaw.

Her saliva hit your tongue, and you closed your mouth. You waited for her lips to find your throat before swallowing. Jessica hummed, bringing your body closer.

"Now my water lives inside of you. You'll be mine before you know it."

Slowly, about as slowly as it took for your body to absorb the moisture she'd delivered you, your body stopped desiring. But the humiliation of the act lingered. The claim, the power she had of you, her words. That remained for much longer than you cared to admit.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 75: Vivian's Gambit

tw: mind control, drugging, cutting as part of a blood ritual, kidnapping

Previous > Masterlist > Next

October 1925

It wasn't that difficult for Vivian to find the vampire's house, based on the clue that it was only a block away from Jessica's former home. All she really had to do was case the area for a few nights until she was lucky and spotted him -- a tall, pale vampire with a mess of hair, carrying a sack of groceries from one of those all-night food stores that catered to their kind. From there, all she had to do was trail him until he returned to his home. It looked like any other of the mansions on the street; the only indication of its inhabitant's nature was the fact that all of the windows were covered with curtains and shutters.

Now that she knew where she lived, she just had to make a plan.

Emily had told her everything she could remember. That night, the vampires had been discussing Vivian and her resistance to enthrallment, and her target vampire had apparently taken the threat seriously. It was unfortunate that this news was getting around, because it mean that her favorite trick -- pretending to be enthralled to get close to the vampire -- likely wouldn't work. Still, it wasn't as if that were the only technique she had up her sleeve for dealing with vampires.

So here she was, just after sunset, preparing her tools and steeling her resolve to break into a vampire's manor while the night was still young.

She had briefly considered breaking in during the day, but that was largely regarded as bad luck among hunters. Many hunters had thought they could easily take a sleeping vampire unaware, only to find that the vampire would wake and respond to the threat the moment they had a sniff of human, leaving the hunter to battle the vampire right in the vampire's inner sanctum. Vivian preferred the early evening, when the vampire would likely be awake but still groggy.

The brick wall was frigid against her back as Vivian completed her preparations. First, before entering, she had to double check her kit. Silver knife at the ready. Two stakes. Holy water, doctored up with spells. Her most useful spell components -- healing salve, dazing sands, portable fire, and more. Poisons and sleeping draughts. And one important, modern addition: her trusty flashlight.

Next, she had to ensure her scent was hidden from the vampire as much as possible. Before leaving on her mission, she had thoroughly scrubbed herself to remove any trace of sweat that could alert a vampire to her presence, but she liked to go the extra mile by applying an anti-odor balm commonly used among hunters. It was designed to mask the scent of blood, making the human's smell blend in with the dust and stagnant air of a typical vampire lair. The unpleasant scent had been a part of Vivian's world since as far back as she knew. It reminded her of her mother returning home.

The final and most crucial step was to protect herself against enthrallment. Like all rituals having to do with vampires, it required blood. She pulled down her sleeve, revealing the old scars in the shape of a rune, the place where she'd made the cuts so many times. She barely even felt it as the silver knife dug into the discolored skin, chanting the words of the ritual under her breath. She could feel the magic taking, its protection sealing around her, as she dipped one finger into the blood and drew the same rune on her forehead.

With her main line of defense in place, she wrapped the reopened wound with clean bandages from her pack, and daubed it all over with the deodorant balm. She was as ready as she'd ever be.

Vivian pulled out a thin knife and slid it under the window as quietly as possible, undoing the old latch and allowing her to open it. There was not a sound or any hint of inhabitants in the pitch black room she entered, so she chanced flicking on her flashlight for a moment. She was in a music room, an especially elaborate one filled with many different sorts of instruments, with a luxurious piano in the center. One of the vampire's hobbies, no doubt, although there was a strong chance that he didn't even play, and his hobby was actually making his thralls entertain him.

She clicked the flashlight off and let her eyes adjust to the dark, the moonlight streaming in through the spot where she pushed the curtains aside giving her just enough light to see. Despite how many times she'd broken into vampire lairs, her heart was still hammering in her chest.

After all, every vampire hunter, no matter how experienced, had one last, unlucky night. Death was a mercy in those cases -- being turned into a thrall to feed the very monster they were hunting would be the ultimate punishment for many.

That was an additional layer of protection her ritual gave her. If a vampire couldn't enthrall her, it would likely just opt to kill her. She wouldn't have her mind taken, to be sold at an auction house like so much cattle. She'd die, but she'd die free.

With that sobering thought, Vivian crept out into the foyer, which was barely lit with a gas lamp. The space was lined with shelves, each crammed with old and dusty books. Another hobby, she supposed -- immortality certainly would give one plenty of time to read. She heard some faint noises from another room, and cautiously peeked in.

It was a kitchen, a clean and well-appointed one. A kitchen for preparing human food was a common sight in the manors of wealthy vampires. Vivian remembered, early on in her career, being shocked to find an icebox filled with good quality meat and produce. Apparently, many vampires believed the quality of a thrall's diet influenced the quality of their blood, like feeding one's dairy cow premium sweet clover.

What caught Vivian's attention, though, was the person cheerfully making breakfast. His complexion was warm and he was taking pleasure in the smell of frying bacon, marking him as human. This could very well be Oliver, the thrall Emily had described to her. He was healthy and in apparent good spirits. He must have been fortunate enough to have a vampire master who cared for him well. Vivian had seen some true horror shows in her time, dungeons filled with mind-wiped humans covered in blood and moaning in pain, the sorts of thralls that could never recover and needed to be put out of their misery. It was always a relief to find a better situation than that.

Oliver was using a complicated contraption to make some coffee, and interestingly enough, he poured it for two. A second thrall in the manor, perhaps -- or it might be for his master. Vampires as a rule rarely ate human food, but many retained their fondness for alcohol and coffee. If it was for his master, she may be able to use that to her advantage.

For now, she retreated from the kitchen lest she be spotted, and slipped into another darkened room. Even in the darkness, she could tell that this room was very large, and it smelled even more strongly of old books. With hands outstretched, she felt more bookcases lining the walls. A library, perhaps. A library of this size indicated an avid reader, although they said that vampires did often lose interest in their human hobbies, mindlessly hoarding the objects that once gave them pleasure in a vain attempt to feel human.

Vivian hid in the stacks as she heard footsteps entering the room and smelled coffee. It was the thrall Oliver, carrying a mug in one hand and a candle in the other. She heard scraping and scrabbling, and soon a fire roared to life in the hearth, providing an oddly cheerful illumination to the room. Once the fire had been started, he settled down in an overstuffed couch, pulled a blanket over his lap, and began to read from a thick tome. He looked for all the world like one of the idle rich enjoying a book by the fire, and not a hypnotized slave.

It was a very pretty cage that Oliver had for himself, but it was still a cage. He'd still been mesmerized and pressed to service by a vampire, unable to ever leave this place under his own volition, or pursue his own ambitions. After everything she'd seen, Vivian could never be sympathetic to a vampire, no matter how kind they pretended to be. Even the kindest vampire was still a slaver.

With that thought hardening her resolve, she crept back out of the library and to the kitchen. The second mug of coffee remained on the counter, and Vivian hoped her guess was right. She reached into her pack and uncapped one of her vials of sleeping draught, strong enough to affect even a vampire, flavorless except for a mild sweetness. She stirred it into the coffee and returned to her hiding place in the library, as Oliver read on, unaware.

"Good evening, Oliver."

It was the vampire, standing by the hearth with the doctored cup of coffee, just as Vivian had hoped. He was unkept, his clothes and hair rumpled, but Oliver was looking at him as though he were the most beautiful creature on the planet.

"Good evening, master! How is your coffee?"

"Excellent as usual. Are you feeling well tonight?"

"Much better, thank you, sir. I think the worst of the sickness has finally passed."

"What are you reading?" His voice was deep and had an oddly musical quality, easy to listen to.

"I'm reading one of your vampire histories, sir, the ones you say are so dreadfully dull. They are a bit dry, but I want to learn more about this world I never knew existed."

The vampire chuckled. "At least they're getting some good use instead of collecting dust."

Vivian couldn't help her surprise. Most vampires wouldn't encourage their thralls to be educated or to have interests beyond what was convenient to them.

"What are you reading tonight, sir?"

"I'm still researching the ways of witches, hoping that magic might offer some answers to my troubles and yours." The vampire sat on the couch near Oliver, taking a deep drink of his coffee, as Vivian watched his face for signs that the potion was working.

"May I help, sir? I'm very interested in magic."

"That's not surprising. There's witch blood in your veins for sure. You'd likely have an aptitude for magic if you tried," said the vampire thoughtfully. "But I'd prefer you didn't. I won't have my library burned or flooded by novice attempts at spells. I hope you understand." He yawned wide, and Vivian tensed.

"I understand, sir."

The vampire nodded, then rubbed at his eyes, blinking slowly.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"I thought I had slept well last night, thanks in part to your presence, but I'm still just so tired…" He sat up straight. "No. There's something wrong."

"What's wrong, sir?"

"Shhh." The vampire began to hum, his voice lovely and clear.

The brand on Vivian's arm seared into her skin, burning with the effort of absorbing the spell of enthrallment. It was strong, terrifyingly so, and even with her protection, she could feel it pulling at her. The commands buried in the music wanted to put her mind to sleep, to make her reveal herself, to obey this vampire, and she fought the urge to sleepwalk towards him. If she didn't have her protective ritual, she'd have been consumed in a moment.

It would be her trapped in this library forever, content in her comfortable cage.

Vivian gripped her arm hard, focusing on the pain and snapping herself out of it. She had to make her move before her defenses failed her. Her rune was only good for an hour or so at best, and this much power could drain it much more quickly.

She pulled the silver knife in one hand and a pinch of dazing sands in the other, and rushed the vampire. She was fast, more than fast enough for many vampires, but this vampire had already been put on alert and managed to jump up and catch her hand before the knife could find its target. His arm trembled as he held her off -- he was stronger than her, of course, but weak by vampire standards.

And the sleeping draught was putting him at a disadvantage. He managed to push her off and away, but stumbled backwards, his frame drooping. She raised the knife once more, only to feel something grab her elbow. It was the thrall, pulling at her arm.

The momentary distraction was enough to allow the vampire to collect himself and push her over in an attempt to pin her to the floor. She rolled away in time, dodging his hands, and they both scrambled back to their feet. The vampire swayed unsteadily, singing his wordless control. Vivian knew that they were both operating under a time limit -- he was losing the battle against the sleeping potion, and her rune might start to falter at any time.

The vampire gripped the arm of a chair, trying to stay upright, and Vivian gripped her knife and came at him again. This time, however, the thrall threw himself in front of the vampire. "No, don't!" he cried, clinging to his master.

Vivian roughly pulled Oliver off of her quarry, grabbing him by his arms as he squirmed and struggled. Unlike the vampire, he was weaker than her, but he was persistent and fully awake. It would be difficult for her to fight even a half-dazed vampire with this frustrating interference, but she couldn't bring herself to harm him, knowing he had no choice in his loyalty.

The vampire glared at her with piercing blue eyes. "Drop him," he said, his voice filled with hypnotic command. "Sleep, now. You will sleep."

An unwelcome drowsiness stole over Vivian.

"That's right," he intoned. "Go to sleep."

Her brand burned and flickered. If this continued, she'd be overcome by his spell. She'd be just another mindless vampire thrall, brainless and humiliated. Her only hope would be a mortifying rescue by one of her fellow hunters, followed by an excruciatingly slow recovery -- or else, she'd be a meal and a slave forever.

She thought of her mother, her mother who had left home one night to kill a monster and had never returned. She thought of what one of the new hunters had told her when she was only fifteen: that her mother had been spotted, thin and empty and broken, fawning at the knees of a vampire in the box of the opera house.

No matter what, she couldn't let that happen to her.

She raised her silver knife to Oliver's neck. "Stay still, both of you, and be quiet, or the thrall dies."

Vivian hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she'd rather slit this thrall's throat than condemn them both. She hoped the vampire couldn't see how her hand shook, couldn't call her out for a bluff.

Thankfully, the vampire froze in horror. Oliver froze as well, although tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Please don't hurt him," he said. "Please don't kill my master. He hasn't hurt me."

She wanted to explain to this poor soul that she had only been trying to help him, but she knew it wouldn't work. Having felt the sheer power of this vampire's enthrallment herself, Vivian knew that nothing she could say to Oliver would break his misplaced loyalty. "Don't resist," she said. "Come with me, and I won't kill either of you."

It was a desperate gambit, taking a thrall as a hostage to secure an escape route from a fight she might not be able to win. Many vampires would laugh off her threat. She was gambling that this vampire would not want to lose his well-kept thrall.

And she was right. "Oliver, do what she says," said the vampire, straining to keep his eyes open.

"But sir --"

"I'll come for you. Just don't die."

Oliver's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at his master. "I won't resist," he whispered.

That was all Vivian needed. She grabbed Oliver firmly and began to drag him away, knife at the ready, as the vampire finally collapsed onto the floor, his song still burning into her. He was too sluggish to follow as she pulled Oliver towards the door.

She should go back, she knew. The vampire was all but incapacitated. She could finish off a powerful vampire so easily. Taking his thrall and leaving him behind was a risk.

But she couldn't do it, couldn't get her feet to move back in his direction. Her protections were weakening, and she wasn't sure how much more she could withstand. If she drew close, if the wrong command hit her mind in the right way, she'd be rendered helpless, her worst nightmare come true.

No, she'd rather die.

Instead, she wrenched open the passenger door of her car and shoved Oliver inside.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded, as she fumbled with her pack to pull out another vial of sleeping draught. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, she splashed some of it onto a cloth and pressed it to the thrall's face. "What are you --?" he said, muffled, as his eyelids already began to flutter from the strong potion. He slumped over, succumbing to sleep. Vivian tossed the rag out and began to drive, hoping he'd be unconscious for the trip.

As she sped through city streets, she thought about her next move. She'd stolen thralls before, but never one from so dangerous a vampire, and never one who had so much of his mind intact while still being unfailingly loyal. He was dangerous through no fault of his own, and she would have to be careful, lest she invite disaster.

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Next week, Oliver's reaction!

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@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu

—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—

I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||

Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?

Bastards.

Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.

In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.

After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.

He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.

He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”

And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.

“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.

“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”

“Don’t get killed!”

You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”

He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.

“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”

He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”

You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”

“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”

He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”

He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”

“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”

“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”

He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”

“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”

“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”

“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”

You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”

He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”

“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”

“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”

“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.

“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”

To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.

It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”

“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”

“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.

“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”

“Summarize it for me.”

“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”

You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”

He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”

You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”

He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”

You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”

He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”

You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”

“No, they’re actually green.”

You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”

“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”

Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”

You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”

You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.

It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.

When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”

He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”

You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”

He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.

“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”

He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.

“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”

“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.

“Say it again. That you’re mine.”

“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.

He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”

“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”

“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”

“I never said you weren’t, amor-”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”

He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”

Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.

One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.

You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.

“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”

You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”

“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”

“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”

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