#but also like his voice as miguel is SO different at times it IS easy to forget he's him

[the-force-awakens]

Y'know, sometimes I forget that Miguel O'hara is an Oscar boy. I'll just be sitting there watching atsv and being like, "His voice sounds So similar," before common sense kicks in, and I remember he's voiced by Oscar Isaac.

Not quite the same but like - when itsv first came out on digital and I watched it for the first time, I think I knew there were after credits scenes so I watched them, and I remember sitting there listening to Miguel and Lyla banter and thinking to myself (laughingly) "hey wait a minute, this guy sounds kind of like Poe"

and then that kind of sank in after a couple more seconds of hearing him talk, at which point I went "........wait"

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Miguel O’Hara x reader - Sew cute

Warnings/tags: Miguel getting lowkey horny over his girlfriend knowing how to sew. Also, mentions of marriage.

Part two

I have this head cannon of rich bf Miguel finding his girlfriend’s hobbies adorable and taking every possible opportunity to fule her passion- I might make this a loosely related series, where it’d be the same concept but different hobbies.

I’m so sorry for the pun as the title.

It all started when a line of stitching on your pants began to loosen. The top stitching under the fly, specifically.

You complained offhandedly about it to Miguel, leaning against his side and pouting slightly as you whined about your favorite pair of pants starting to give out. Miguel chuckled softly at your dramatics, scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulder sympathetically with his other, eventually pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising to buy you a new pair next time you two went shopping.

Except, he never gets a chance. Because the next night, he comes home to the sight of you hunched over on the couch, your tongue bitten in concentration as a movie you’re not paying attention too plays on the TV, your head turned to something in your lap instead.

Miguel can’t help his curiosity- coming up behind you and peaking over your shoulder.

Looking down, he sees what you’re focused so intensely on, and it catches him off guard.

You held a thread and needle in one hand and what he assumed to be your pants in the other, carefully sewing a line of stitching into the fabric. Except, you weren’t working on your pants- your pants were sitting to the side of you- the stitching already repaired. Now, you had one of Miguel’s shirts- one he recognized as one he had planned on getting rid of because of a seam coming undone.

“¿Qué haces?” Miguel asks, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing loving circles into the tense muscles as watched you work.

You can’t help but shudder as Miguel’s fingers dig into your back, easing the pain from sitting hunched over for so long. You try to keep the shakiness out of your voice as you look up at him to answer his question.

“I’m fixing my pants. The ones that were coming apart- I told you about that yesterday, remember?”

“Love, that’s my shirt. Not your pants.”

“O-oh yeah.” You felt yourself flush in embarrassment, looking back down at the shirt you had stolen from Miguel. “Well- yeah- I finished the pants earlier. Then I found this shirt in with the rest of the clothes while I was putting away laundry. I-I hope you don’t mind that I’m fixing it-”

Miguel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he continued rubbing your shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. But, I’m more than happy to buy us both new clothes. You don’t need to worry about pinching pennies.”

You turn to him, a grin spread across your still warm cheeks as you respond. “Miguel, there’s no reason to replace something so easy to repair! Plus, I’m enjoying myself!”

Miguel nodded, looking down to admire the stitching you had done on the shirt so far. “Hm… I didn’t know you could sew, mi amor.”

“It’s not exactly hard, just moving the needle through the fabric, you know? I haven’t done it in a good while, I forgot how much I liked doing this kinda stuff.”

Miguel was enamored by this new revelation. Before this, he had always seen sewing as more of an old person thing, but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling of domesticity he got from watching you lay in his lap as you delicately maneuvered the needle and thread through the torn fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at the sight, it was like you were his little house wife.

Or…house girlfriend? Because he hasn’t married you yet…. But that’s really just a technicality. You’re his house wife, Miguel has decided it.

The next morning, when you handed him the repaired shirt with a proud grin, Miguel couldn’t help but feel treasured and loved from the simple gesture. Before this, Miguel would never have considered wearing something that had ripped them been repaired. He had the money to replace things, so why wouldn’t he? But from that day on, that shirt became his favorite, and he wore it every chance he had.

After that, Miguel started coming home with little handicraft and embroidery kits for you. Whenever he’d get see a kit he knew you’d like- maybe it had your favorite animal or something- he’d toss it in the cart and save it for a rainy day, whether that be a metaphorical or literal one.

And it all stayed like that for a while: Miguel bringing you small hand sewing and embroidery kits, you lighting up and getting started on them right away- usually spending the rest of the night on the couch next to Miguel with a movie or show on in the background.

Until one of your friends asked that you sign up for a sewing workshop with them. It was a relatively basic class, held at one of the local chain fabric/craft stores, but you had agreed to go, mostly for your friends sake.

The workshop was fun. You learned a bit about sewing machine tension and using patterns, and the sewing project given was simple and doable within the time period.

You didn’t realize that Miguel had come early, or that he was standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching you sew with a smile. He would deny it if you asked him, but he had arrived early on purpose to watch the last few minutes of the class. He had assumed the class was hand sewing, like everything else he had seen you do up till that point, and he was surprised to see you hunched over a sewing machine instead of your usual needle and thread.

It was like the first time he saw you sewing all over again: he was fucking smitten, and was going to make you his wife. That was all he could think about, because god help him, you already looked and acted the part.

Miguel was mesmerized by how focused you were as you moved the fabric through the machine. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration- it was precious, and Miguel wanted nothing more than to melt at how domestic you seemed while doing it.

And when you finished and came up to him? With a wide grin as you proudly presented the stuffed animal you had made during the workshop, insisting that you made it for him? His heart melted, right then and there. He squeezed that stuffed animal so tight and looked down at you with so much love, you were half worried he’d either pounce on you or make the poor stuffed animal’s head pop off (which Miguel might have cried about, at this point).

After the workshop, Miguel didn’t take you home. You and him stayed at the fabric store, him loading your arms up with fabric, patterns, and whatever else he decided you needed. “You like this one? No? You don’t? Well I think it’s just a good basic- like a black shirt, so we should just get it anyways.”

Oh god. And then he found the baby clothes patterns. You could’ve sworn you spent hours at that craft store.

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Can you please do a Miguel O’Hara scenario where F!Reader is his Deadpool and even though he finds her irritating sometimes he has a soft spot for her?

A Spider-Man and A Mercenary

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x fem Deadpool Reader

Word count: 776

Synopsis: A familiar Deadpool variant manages to break into the spider society again…

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!!! This was such a fun dynamic to write between Miguel and us as Deadpool 😋

It was just like any normal day in the spider society. Anomalies were being dealt with, and no spiders were bothering Miguel as he got to stand in his office looking over everything.

Suddenly on one of the security monitors, He spotted a certain Deadpool breaking into the building. Miguel groaned, not you again. If any regular Deadpool broke in, normally he would just ship them back home. Easy. But no, of course the most obnoxious one was located on earth 2099.

“Ay, Dios mio…” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, already hearing your loud voice echoing through the already busy hallways of the spider society. He sighed, turning off the intruder alert and resting his hands on his hips as he waiting for you to stomp into his office to torture him further.

You had done this continuously, annoying him with your constant yapping and endless flirting.

Miguel finally heard the door open, signaling your entrance.

“What do you want.” He grumbled, refusing to look at you and instead focusing his gaze on the numerous yellow screens surrounding his office.

“Heyyyy, how’s my favorite Spider-Man doing?” You say, waltzing into his office, or what you call his spider-cave ( he never got the reference).

“You know you’re not supposed to be in this building.”

Miguel crossed his arms, finally looking at the familiar red leather suit you’re sporting.

“How many times do I have to kick you out before you get it?”

“Guess you’ll just have to do it again.” You say, giving him a wink before strolling further in. He scoffed, glancing at his screens for a split second.

Meanwhile, you immediately begin to look around the large dark space, pushing random buttons and causing havoc.

“Hey-HEY!” Miguel pushed himself away from his desk and quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back from the buttons that were connected to important multiverse things. “Why do you insist on being such a pain in my ass?” He glared at you with his usual scowling red eyes, the lack of sleep present underneath them. “Has anyone ever told you how sexy you look mad?” You smirk, looking up at him.

The height difference between the two of you was comical.

“You. All the time. It’s infuriating.” Miguel said bluntly, narrowing his eyes down at you.

He lets out a tired sigh, obviously frustrated by but also oddly used to your antics. “Can you just stop moving and causing chaos for five minutes and just act like a normal Human??” “We both know I’m not.” “I’m fully aware of that…” He scoffed, pulling you a bit closer to him.

His fingers curled around your wrist, keeping you from trying to wander off again.

“Oooooo, feeling handsy today are we?”

He rolled his eyes at the comment. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m just trying to keep you from touching something you're not supposed to.”

Despite what he was saying, he kept you close. His fingers gently caressing the red leather surrounding your wrist. Your annoying energy and presence alone was exhausting to deal with, but a part of Miguel couldn’t help but be drawn to you. Something about you.. just made Miguel’s heart beat a little faster. (And sometimes made his face red)

You start tapping on his arm, bringing him back to the present. “Yeah riiiiiight.” You tease, and he finally comes up with the bright ideas to try getting you out of his office.

“Are you hungry?” Miguel asks, noticing the way your face immediately shoots up to meet his. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“If I take you out to lunch will you stop bothering me and breaking into my office??”

“Awww, you're finally taking me out on a date? Took you long enough!”

You bat your eyes at him, again trying to poke his buttons.

“It’s not a date. Don’t get any ideas.” Miguel responded quickly, activating his mask to hide the slight redness that covered his cheeks.

“Can we listen to wham on the way?” You say, already skipping to the exit at the thought.

“You just can’t make this easy for me, can you?” He said, rolling his eyes at your request.

“Fine, whatever. We're listening to wham, just promise you won’t try to start anything else.”

“Can’t make any promises spidey.”

The familiar cheeky smile on your face beaming. He sighed, a mix of annoyance and amusement on his face. “Of course you can’t..” He followed after, opening the door for you. “After you.”

“What a gentleman.” You happily walked out, taking his hand in yours. He saw this, and couldn’t help but give the tiniest smile.

Maybe this ‘date’ wouldn’t be as long and grudgingly annoying as he thought.

[asratery]

Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Man!Male Reader

You were a member of the spider society, rising quickly to be part of the small circle of Miguel’s most valued members due to your agility and strength even with your strong, tall stature. You and Miguel had a complicated relationship. At least on his end. The man was curious about your quiet nature and selfless behavior. You were a man of few words, being both a Spider-Man as well as hosting a symbiote from your world. You had a dedication to the cause that could compare with Miguel, even placing it over your physical health. Today, Miguel’s carelessness as well as your lack of self care would hit you like a truck.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

cw: masturbation (male), hand obsession, size diff (mentioned), sexual tension (?), sexual implications, use of y/n

Please give criticism 🙏 this is my first time writing as a whole so I’m so sorry if the format is weird and/or if the summary is ass. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG (imo) SO I APOLOGIZE. 😭 And pls tell me if i should make a part two. (edit: okay, i calculated and its 5.2K words lmao... my bad)

You don’t remember the last time you visited HQ or even your own dimension. You’d been traveling to various earths and hunting down located anomalies per Miguel’s order.

Your physical conditions were never a worry to you while on your expeditions, simply stitching up whatever injuries you endured before carrying on. Miguel would protest to this behavior of yours, requesting that you return back to HQ for proper medical attention, but you’d quickly dismiss his precautions, having Venom keep your injuries wrapped under it’s tar-like material to avoid bursting any stitches when you were busy tackling your objectives.

You rarely fully involved Venom in your missions. It never objected to your request to remain tucked away while you worked, understanding that you preferred to rely on your own strength to take down opponents.

Miguel sent you on a new array of missions about two weeks ago. They were rather easy for someone of your skill, though it did get annoying when one enemy turned into two, then three, and so on in just one mission. These hiccups never stunted your performance, but they didn’t fail to stress Miguel out. You didn’t fully understand why the man was so anxious whenever you’d go on your missions. He never showed the same worry for the other members of the Spider Society, so what was so different about you?

Miguel had been spending most of his days in his office since you left, his earpiece being filled with the sounds of battle as you took down anomalies on the other end. You preferred not to speak, but with Miguel’s insistence, you were forced to make some noise for him every so often to ease his nerves, whether it be a grunt or a hum. Depending on your mood, some days you’d find it to be overbearing and on better ones, you’d find it to be almost comforting.

‘What is wrong with me.’ Miguel thought to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d been sitting in his office chair, clicking around on his keyboard as he watched your marker on the map traveling miles in minutes as you moved around a random Earth, searching for a rumored anomaly. Everything had been going well until he’d heard you breathing heavily on the other end as you stopped to rest for a moment, you raspy pants tickling his ear. He’d immediately dismissed Lyla as he felt his pants tighten at the noises you made, resting his hand over the forming tent in his suit. Fuck, he had to hear your voice. He needed to.

“Y/n? You alright?” Miguel spoke through the earpiece, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice. Y/n didn’t reply with words, opting to hum in acknowledgement. No, that wasn’t enough for Miguel. “Y/n?” Y/n groaned in annoyance at his insistence, but the noise was like heaven in Miguel’s ear. Much more than what he was requesting. “I’m fine.” Y/n replied curtly before continuing his search, his stationary marker starting to move on the map again.

Miguel’s mind was already wandering when he heard y/n groan, but hearing your voice after radio silence for days? He already had a fantasy forming in his head now. There were too many days where you’d hover over him as he briefed you on an upcoming mission, his mind muddled with ideas of you bending him over the table, ripping his suit open and just fucking him over the surface. “Y/n.” Miguel unintentionally groaned out as he pulled his pants down just enough to release his cock from its confines.

“Hm?” Y/n responded in an undertone, oblivious to the intentions behind Miguel’s voice. Miguel pressed a hand over his mouth. He didn’t mean to call your name aloud. “Y-You’re approaching the signal.” Miguel spoke quickly, his heart fluttering at his slip up. You hummed in acknowledgment, a bit confused on why he had to announce it since he equipped your wristwatch with a mini map, but you dismissed it. Miguel quickly muted his mic on the earpiece to avoid making the same mistake. He looked down at his semi, the cool air making it all the more sensitive.

He dipped one of his hands down, sliding his thumb over the slit of his cock as the other turned the volume up on his earpiece, listening to your heavy breathing as you swung through an abandoned city. “Fuck, please.” Miguel murmured under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slid his hand down his length, imagining your larger, calloused hands in its place.

He had to lower the volume of his earpiece to near silence, the sound of the wind hitting your side of the mic disrupting his thoughts. Miguel lightly gripped his cock, sliding his hand back up to the tip, a bead of pre forming at the motion. Gods, he needed to just tell you, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. You were nearly ten years younger than him, being only 23 years old compared to his 30 years of age. You wouldn’t want someone as old as him, much less a man. You probably had women clinging to your arms in your world, and the thought evoked a flare of jealousy in his chest.

Fuck, what would you think of him if you saw him like this? Thrusting into his hand at just the sound of your voice and faraway fantasies.

You’d been making rounds around this damned city. The place was desolate but somehow a fellow spider managed to spot an anomaly when they accidentally entered in the wrong number in an attempt to portal to their own world. Your wristwatch was picking up on a thermal presence, yet you just couldn’t find it. ‘I swear, if it’s underground, I’m dragging Miguel here to take care of this, multiverse be damned.’ You thought to yourself as you swung between rusting skyscrapers.

Your thoughts were cut off by your watch beeping, detecting a thermal signal in close range. That’s weird. You’d already scoured this area. It must’ve moved in the time that you were on the other side of the city. Your eyes were focused on the watch too closely to notice another presence approaching your side. Another anomaly. Wonderful.

Your senses kicked off but it wasn’t as quick as this creature. You were already airborne before you were launched through the window of a skyscraper you were passing, a rib cracking under the pressure your left side endured. ‘Light work.’ You thought to yourself as you kicked up off the floor of the office level you landed in, planting your feet down before launching out the side you were thrown into. You swung your way up to the roof of the high rise, your eyes scanning the surrounding area for the anomaly.

A figure darted across the street below, prompting you to jump off. You never voiced it, but you always loved the adrenaline rush that came with hunting down anomalies. You were a bit surprised at the lack of noise on Miguel’s side of the earpiece, but the thought was quickly brushed aside as you broke your fall with your webs before running into the building the figure was seen entering, your watch leading the way. You ran down multiple sets of stairs, the rapping of the creatures claws along the tiled floor guiding you along.

You shot a web at the side of the creature from the top of the stairway before it could round a corner. You yanked it towards you, disregarding the fact that your feet lost contact with the floor as the two of you met in the middle, tumbling down the stairwell with your bulky arms wrapped around the damned thing. You were able to land a few punches against the hybrid’s feathered body before you were forced to focus on its talons sinking into the muscles of your thigh. You hissed in pain, forming claws on your own hands with Venom’s help before gripping its ankle with one hand and stabbing your claws into the scaled skin above it.

The fucking thing screeched and gods was it loud, nearly forcing Venom to recede back into you before it used its other clawed foot to hit your chest, slamming your back into the stairwell. You gritted your teeth in pain, a drip of blood dripping down your mask from the cut on your brow due to the previous fall. The creature rounded the corner immediately, disappearing from your sight. ‘Of course it’s smart.’ You thought to yourself begrudgingly, your muscles a bit tense from the mission you just pursued prior to entering this world. “Miguel.” You spoke into your mic. No response. No time to wait.

You quickly got to your feet before darting around the corner, suddenly realizing the setting. Of course it lured you to a fucking subway. You were quick on your feet, jumping down to the railway platform before darting down the tunnel, your sharp ears picking up on the sound of the creature’s claws scratching against the metal of the railing as it ran from you. You’d ran so far that you made it to another underground subway stop, spotting a new creature lingering in the area.

‘Here’s the second fucker.’ You thought to yourself as Venom reformed claws around your fingers. You jumped from the railway up to the tiled floor of the platform. The creature spotted you, quickly leaping at you as you returned the gesture. You noted the difference in strength in this one compared to the first anomaly you came across, easily overpowering this one. Just when you were about to sink your claws into its neck, you were launched off to the side, slamming into a solid wall behind you. Another rib cracked at the impact. Wonderful.

The first bastard was back. The two creatures stood side by side as you used the wall as support to rise to your feet. The two freaks of nature stalked around you before launching forward.

“Venom.” You growled out. It didn’t hesitate, enveloping your body in its black tar-like body. You immediately threw the stronger one back, sending it over the platform and onto the railway as you focused your attention on the weaker anomaly.

You were able to land a multitude of hits on this one, weakening it. Just when you were about to stab your claws into its chest, the stronger one recuperated, releasing a deafening scream that incapacitated you, forcing Venom to recede back inside you. The ground shook from the scream, the beams at the subway shaking as dust fell from the ceiling.

‘Fuck, I need to focus on that one or this rusty building is going down on all three of us.’

You were alone now, the scream forcing Venom to retreat. You made circles with the creature, the weaker of the two still recovering on the floor. You made the first move, webbing the feet of the anomaly to the floor before landing a kick straight in its chest.

The creature slammed against another beam. Fuck. Bad move. The ceiling shook again, an unsettling sound of creaking above them. The building was going to collapse at this rate. You needed to keep these two down here while getting back to ground level so you wouldn’t get stuck or worse, killed under the rubble.

“Miguel.” Silence. What the fuck was he doing right now? Just when you were about to approach the now weakened anomaly, you felt the muscle in your thigh tense. You dropped one knee, accidentally slamming it against the tiled floor. You gritted your teeth, the muscle cramping from overworking yourself. Miguel had warned you, and now you were experiencing the outcome. In the midst of Venom attempting to reform around you, you were tackled from behind. The second one was back up.

You swung your now clawed fingers back, moving to plunge your hand into the chest of this anomaly. You were cut short as the other let out another ear-piercing screech, forcing Venom to retreat yet again. The entire bottom level shook now. ‘This building’s going down.’ You thought to yourself. “Miguel,” you shouted into the earpiece, “I need backup, I’m under the apartment buildi—,” your words were cut short as the infrastructure gave out, sending you into darkness.

Miguel was in the midst of cleaning himself up when he heard the low sound of a rumble on the other side of his earpiece. He immediately raised the volume on his earpiece. ‘Shit, shit shit,’ he though to himself, ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’ “Y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel quickly spoke into the mic, turning Lyla back on. Lyla’s hologram reappeared, about to crack a joke before noticing Miguel’s panicked expression as he looked at his monitors, rapidly typing on the keyboard. “Shit—Lyla, call Jess and Hobie to HQ now,” he said quickly before shouting into the earpiece, “Y/n, give me a status update!” Silence. A deadly silence that was interrupted a few minutes later by the sound of a weak wheeze. Y/n.

“Fuck, y/n, what’s your status?” Miguel spoke quickly into his earpiece as he connected the audio to a walkie-talkie. Jessica entered Miguel’s office, Hobie following a few feet behind her. You couldn’t get a word out, a piece of rubble pressing against your torso, cutting your breaths short. Another weak wheeze, this time coming from the walkie. Jessica froze at the noise before quickly swinging up to Miguel’s platform. “Who is that? Is that—Don’t tell me that’s y/n.” She said quickly. Hobie was already analyzing the holographic map on Miguel’s desk, typing the coordinates for your marker into his wristwatch before creating a portal. “Let’s go.”

You let out another weak wheeze, groaning in pain when the rubble shifted. Your right ankle was stinging, likely sprained, and your knee cap fractured from it hitting the tiled floor prior to the collapse. Your side felt wet and the rebar poking out of a chunk of concrete next to you easily explained why. The screech from the anomaly must’ve ruptured an eardrum, since you could feel the ticklish trickle of blood leaking out of your ear. Your earpiece was knocked out, hidden somewhere in the rubble that pinned you down as you heard the distant sound of Miguel’s panicked voice coming from it. ‘Wonderful timing, boss.’ You thought to yourself as you let out a pained coughed, your throat coated in dust. Your vision started to fade in the midst of you trying to count how many fractures your ribs incurred.

The trio wasn't enough to get you out of the rubble, having to call over a dozen other spider people to aid in the search for you. The only thing keeping Miguel’s hopes up was the presence of a pulse that your wristwatch was picking up, Lyla closely monitoring it for any changes as per Miguel’s orders. He could feel his heart cracking at the edges at the sight of a few spider people gently pulling your unconscious body from under the rubble. They immediately applied pressure to your side due to a large gash from a piece of rebar as Miguel quickly opened a portal back to HQ, rushing you to the medical wing of the building.

Your eyes were hazy when you opened them, taking a few moments to adjust to the bright hospital lights, though the dizziness stayed. You reached a hand up to the nasal cannula, taking note of the tug from the IV in your arm. An IV. A cannula. Bright lights. You hated hospitals with a passion. You shot up in the bed, your body wracked with pain from both a terrible concussion as well as the broken ribs. Strong hands firmly gripped your shoulders, gently guiding you to lay back down on the bed as a soothing voice murmured to you, though you couldn't make out the words. You complied, reluctantly, though majorly because you didn't have the strength to protest.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on a breathing technique to try and ease some of the pain from your array of broken and fractured ribs, though the pain was still agonizing even when you inhaled. Thank god for your pain tolerance, or this could be a lot more unbearable than it already is. You could faintly hear Miguel's unintelligible voice, but he kept a low tone to accomodate your ruptured eardrum. You felt soft fingers stroking the top of your left hand. Jess. She was on your left, Miguel on your right. You could feel a weight on your left leg. Pavitr. Gods, the boy looked up to you like you were an older brother to him. You couldn't imagine how stressed he must be to see you in this state.

You opened your eyes again after about ten minutes, slowly blinking as you let your eyes adjust to the harsh lighting above you. After you finally gained a good enough level of clarity, your sharp eyes began darting around the room, grabbing every little detail you could pick up without tilting your concussed head. You made eye contact with Jessica, who was tracing soft patterns into your forearm as she looked at you, a soft look in her eyes. She was like an older sister to you in a way, and even though you never acknowledged this, she knew.

Your eyes shifted over to Pavitr, who was sat in a chair closer to the end of the bed, practically hugging the lower half of your left leg. You had a brace around your right ankle and could feel the tight gauze wrapped around your thigh, hidden under the blankets. Your abdomen felt very snug, being tightly wrapped in gauze as well due to what you assumed was that wet feeling on your side from when you were under the rubble. The cut on your brow had a stitch and your lip was busted.

You could feel the tickle of Miguels breath against your upper arm, but you never looked over at him. His left hand was gripping your thick tricep like a lifeline while his right remained intertwined with yours. You refused to look at the man, and rightfully so. Had he been paying attention instead of getting distracted by god knows what, you wouldn't be in this uncomfortable situation. "Summary?" You asked Jessica in a raspy voice, your eyes were half-lidded as they focused on Pavitr's sleeping figure.

Miguel answered for Jessica. It ticked you off. You didn't want to hear his voice right now. "Sprained ankle, laceration in your right side, two fractured ribs, three broken, grade three concussion, gash in your right thigh, fractured knee cap, and a few cuts and bruises," Miguel replied quickly, "your lung collapsed, so you had a chest tube in but it was removed yesterday morning." You had a question on the tip of your tongue, but you knew Miguel would answer it before Jess could. "You've been out for six days." Miguel murmured, unknowingly answering said question. "We were worried sick." Bullshit. You had to resist the urge to say it aloud. This wouldn't have happened had he been paying attention and heard at least one of your three call outs.

Jess could see the anger flickering in your narrowed eyes as you focused on Pavitr again in an attempt to calm your nerves. She could feel your fingers twitching against her hand as you took quiet breaths. She was sure Miguel could feel the motions in your fingers too, since the man had his hand tightly threaded with yours. You didn’t have energy to be angry right now. You could feel a wave of exhaustion coming over you, making your eyelids heavier than they already were. You succumbed to the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

‘He didn’t even look at me.’ Was a repetitive thought in Miguel’s head over the next few weeks. He took notice in that behavior. How could he not? He didn’t blame you, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a flicker of jealousy when he saw you and your goddamn face on the cameras and how you looked at all the spider people who visited you with kindness. You even gave little smiles to a few with that pretty face of yours—Fuck, he needed to talk about that.

Miguel didn’t get too many chances to visit you throughout the weeks and when he did manage to, you were already asleep by the time he got there. He’d pull a chair next to your bed, staring at you in ways he didn’t could only dream of compared to when you were awake. He'd spend a few hours every other night just… analyzing you. Counting every vein that traveled up your forearm, staring at the thick lashes on your lower waterline, the broad chest that peeked out of your hospital shirt—Gods, how could you be equal parts pretty and handsome?

Tonight was the same routine, Miguel had snuck into the medical wing way past visiting hours, slinking into your hospital room. He stood in the doorway, listening to the quiet whistling sound your nose made when you inhaled as confirmation that you were asleep. He stepped in, sliding the door shut behind him before grabbing a chair at the entry, picking it up and gently setting it on the floor at your bedside.

He took a seat before pulling a small metal object from his pocket. A nail clipper. Miguel had noticed that your nails had gained a bit of length, not much, but enough for him to notice. Definitely not because he wanted a reason to touch your hands. He carefully sat himself on the edge of your hospital bed before gently lifting your hand that still had an IV in it.

The horny bastard nearly moaned at how heavy your hand felt in his. How were you so strong? You barely had free time to work out with how often you were hunting anomalies and there was no way chasing those guys alone would be enough, right? He carefully set your hand on his thigh, the warmth emitting from you causing a smile to spread across his face. Gods, this felt wrong.

The room was silent besides the occasional clicking noise of the nail clipper as he worked through your first hand, making sure to carefully round the edges of your nails. Your hands were so nice, saliva pooling in Miguel’s mouth that he had to swallow down as he ran the pads of his fingers over every vein that traveled up the top of your hand. His mind was wandering and god your fingers were thick. The thoughts came before he could stop them, imagining you sliding your heavy digits into his mouth, coating them in his saliva before sliding them inside him one by one—

Miguel leaned over you, gently lifting your untreated hand to rest in his before he began repeating the same ministrations he gave to the first. The closer proximity made the scent of you in his nose even stronger. Your musk was a bit of everything: comforting, arousing, warm, familiar. If he could have it as a cologne, he would. ‘Fuck, is something wrong with me?’ Miguel thought to himself as he leaned towards you, his nose inching closer to the pulse in your neck.

He couldn’t help himself, gently laying your hand back in its original position before dipping down, pressing his nose against the delicate skin of your neck. ‘Something’s wrong with me.’ He inhaled deeply, having to suppress a moan in his throat at the smell of you. He planted his hands next to your hips. Oh my god, speaking of which, your hips just seemed to move so fluidly with you when you walked. It wasn’t like you were just blatantly swaying them, but Miguel noticed the way they seemed to rise and lower in sync with your bulky thighs as you moved around his office.

‘You’re tempting me on purpose, you have to be.’ Miguel thought to himself as he indulged further, letting the tip of his cold nose press against the side of your throat as he breathed you in. ‘I’ve never acted like this about anyone in my life before. Why’re you so easy to obsess over?’ Miguel found himself watching the medical wing’s security cameras in his time, watching as you walked in the hall with Jess, using the wall as a slight support. You looked like a leviathan in the hallway, your tall, broad stature taking up a large portion of the hall and dwarfing Jessica. You had no idea how arousing just the sight of you was.

Miguel’s thoughts were cut off by the feeling of your firm, calloused hands wrapping around his waist, spreading your warmth to those areas. Miguel nearly choked on his breath, absolutely refusing to meet your gaze right now. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. God no. You just caught him in the fucking act.

Miguel kept his head tucked under your chin, a warm feeling coiling in his gut at the realization that your hands wrapped nearly entirely around his waist. How the hell was that even possible? The man was 6’9 yet you managed to make him feel small. How were you even possible? Oh my god, he couldn’t even imagine the view you’d get if you were to wrap those hands around his waist, keeping him in place as you pounded into hi—

“Miguel.”

You felt your hand twitch at the feeling of something cold brushing against your neck. A nurse? Or maybe just a nip of the cold breeze that carried throughout the wing? Nope. ‘Y/n.’ You weren’t thinking that. Why would you repeat your own name? Oh right, you aren’t alone in your body. ‘Venom?’ There was a moment of silence in your conscious. ‘That… man is here again. The human. The weird one.’ ‘Miguel?’ A beat of silence yet again. Venom didn’t like saying the man’s name, preferring to lightheartedly insult him when describing him. You’d always brushed off Venom’s insistence that Miguel had a thing for you. ‘He’s touching you. Again.’ It’s voice was a hiss. ‘What?’

You woke up before you could get a response, your eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room, Miguel’s sturdy figure illuminated by the moonlight peeking into the room. You could feel him twitch and his breath catch when you wrapped your hands around his noticeably narrow waist. Why you chose his waist, you didn’t know, the motion being almost instinctual. You could tell he didn’t want to look at you. How could he, when you just caught him practically burying his face into your neck? You had to break the silence, as much as you hated speaking.

“Miguel.”

Silence in response to your husky voice. You slid your hands up his waist, gripping the sides of his chest before pulling him away, taking note of how your thumbs pressed into the plump edges of his pecs. Miguel’s eyes were trained on your neck as his hands rested against the large muscle of your shoulders. His face was red. So red. This wasn’t Miguel. This didn’t look like the man who so easily scolded others and had a resting bitch face for hours on end. Or at least it didn’t look like it.

“Miguel.”

Your voice was a lot firmer this time, catching Miguel’s full attention as he slowly looked up at you, an innocent look in his eyes. Who was this? Surely this wasn’t the leader of the Spider Society in your hospital room. Who was this little minx that slinked into your room while you were unconscious? “Explain yourself.” You wanted to say more, but the soreness of your throat said otherwise. “I-I was cutting your nails.” Miguel’s voice was shaky. You never heard the man like this before. “And?” You asked inquisitively. He was silent, his eyes darting between each of your sharper ones. “And I was… checking your pulse…?” Miguel’s voice was nearly silent now, an obvious hesitation in his voice.

“You’re a wonderful liar, boss.” You stared him down, your piercing gaze practically demanding an answer. “I was smelling you.” He whispered it so quietly, you almost didn’t pick it up with your still recovering eardrum. “Why?” “Because… because I missed you.” Miguel’s voice was a murmur. Missed you? Why the hell did he miss you? “You wouldn’t miss me if you had been paying attention.” You had to address the elephant in the room.

“Y/n—” “No. Explain to me. Because I called out to you thrice and I got zero response.” Not now, not yet. Miguel wanted this conversation to wait till you were fully recovered. His eyes darted to the door he came in through, but you quickly caught on, sliding your hands down to his waist again and tightening your grip. Oh fuck, Miguel had to suppress a whimper at the feeling. “I-I was busy with Lyla and—” “It’s an earpiece. You would’ve heard me. Meaning you either removed it or muted it. Explain why.” “Y/n, please, you should really just—” “What were you doing that was so important?”

Miguel’s mind was reeling. A part of him wanted to run from this conversation but the other was loving the sound of your voice and the feel of your firm grip on his waist. “Y-You should just go back to be—” “Shut up.” Gods, you had an authority in your voice that silenced him immediately. The feeling of your firm finger wrapped around his waist had him tensing his arms, pleading with his body to send the rushing heat elsewhere.

“Miguel. I will tell Lyla to pull up the cameras in your office myself. Or I’ll send Venom to.”

There was no running from this. No way in hell. “I-I was touching myself.” There. It was out now. He said it. Were you happy? Who knows, cause Miguel screwed his eyes shut the moment he said it. “Touching yourself…” Your voice was lower, and had a hint of anger and confusion in it. “Yes.” Miguel practically gasped out the word, his face flaming in his embarrassment. He’d rather just tell the man then have him watch it himself on the cameras. “You expect me to believe that? That you were touching yourself? We were talking and then suddenly you went radio si—…Miguel.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. You connected the dots. Miguel wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Explain it. Now.” Miguel was quick in his response. “Y-You were breathing, and every fucking piece of audio was picked up, and-and I felt this heat in me. And then you groaned and I just—I just…” Your grip tightened around his waist again and Miguel couldn’t help it, letting out a soft whimper at your touch. “You couldn’t help yourself.” You murmured. Miguel nodded his head in shame, opening his eyes again, though they remain focused on your neck again.

“Miguel.” His eyes snapped up to yours, an unmistakable heat in your husky voice. “Go lock the door.”

Miguel stood so quickly that the chair next to your bed nearly got knocked over.

So… are we feeling a part two? 😏 or was this ass? Cause I’ll stop rn. Lmao.

[madlittlecriminal]

[01] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

Warnings: mention of Dana (this is not comic accurate), talks of gold digging, talks of missing breakfast (miguel), mention of killing

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

Your day was pretty slow. The only customers you had throughout the day were for cake testing or birthday cakes. Either way, you reached your goal and were satisfied with the work for the day.

At least, when it comes to the outside world as it was now 10:43pm and you were waiting for the ovens to cool down as you cleaned your kitchen. After washing the dishes and mopping the floors, you took off your apron, putting it on the hook in the kitchen before wiping your face. You cleaned off your chalkboard and double checked the ovens before closing them and grabbing your things along with your dessert box for the club workers across the street after locking your bakery up.

Little did you know when you entered, he was there in the VIP section.

His whiskey went down the wrong pipe, causing him to choke after spitting the drink out.

Obviously, not one of his best moments, but he was thankful he removed the carpet because it would be one hell of a mess he'd have to clean up.

"Everything alright, boss?" Lyla asked, tilting her head to the side and adjusting her heart shaped glasses.

Miguel gave her a nod, but his eyes were glued onto you as you smiled at the bartender, denied a drink and made your way out.

"Oh..." Lyla teased as she poked Miguel's shoulder. "Someone has his eyes on the baker from across the street. I don't blame you, she's gorgeous." She giggled and rested her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward. "Also, this will probably be the first time I see you with a woman."

"No, you've seen me in a relationship before."

"She does not count! I didn't like her." Lyla crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"And why not?" He furrowed his brows as he looked at his right hand and best friend.

"She was ignorant and a gold digger."

"She was not."

"The fact that she wanted her name plastered on this club, which is your popular club by the way, is enough to prove she's a gold digger. Remind me how the relationship ended."

Miguel sighed, knowing Lyla was right. "She broke up with me because I refused to give her some of my profits from my businesses."

"Exactly. However, the darling from across the street has her own business so she's making her own money. Plus, she's a baker! I saw you munching on her conchas after the meeting this morning. When did you even get it?"

"It was almost lunch time, and I haven't eaten all day. After you left the club, I came by and reimbursed everyone. I ate them and then told Jessica to get a new register for the club."

"Now, why would you tell her to do it knowing she's going to pop her baby out pretty soon?" Lyla crossed her arms.

"She picked it out and Noir helped carry it for her." He explained, gaining a nod from Lyla.

"Good, but now I need to know. How suave were you with the baker?" She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the romantic in her making an entrance.

"If stuttering and hardly saying a word until telling her to keep the change and that I didn't need a receipt was suave, then I guess I did pretty well." He leaned back against the navy velvet couch, groaning to himself as he realized his mistake.

"Hold on. The man that can make a deal as if were as easy as making a bowl of cereal, can..." she lowered her voice before continuing, "kill a man without flinching, couldn't speak to her?" She glared at him in confusion.

"So?"

"Miguel, you spoke to Dana without an issue."

"Well, this one is different!" He rubbed his temples. "No sé qué es, pero sé que ella es diferente en comparación a Dana." (I don't know what it is, but I know she's different compared to Dana.)

Lyla smirked. "You got bit by a huge love bug, Mig. Now, would you say it's love at first sight or are you just attracted to her?"

"I'm very attracted to her, but I want to get to know her first before I declare if it's love." He explained before running his fingers through his hair. "I just don't know how that'll happen if I can't get one word out that isn't rushed or broken from a stutter."

"Just one question. Didn't you say you wanted to expand your businesses?" Lyla asked, tilting her head to the side, a strand of her hair falling in front of her heart shaped glasses.

"Yeah?"

"And didn't you say you were interested in 'Love Language' because they made money compared to other bakeries near you or any other business?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying, I thought you were glad Dana ended things because you don't mix business with pleasure." She shrugged, causing Miguel to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Ya dígame, Lyla. What's your point?!"

"Do me a favor and look across the street and tell me the name of the bakery."

Miguel rolled his eyes before peaking his head out of the VIP area towards the glass doors of his club. The streetlights illuminated the burgundy letters on the cream background of the dome shaped window awning.

"Mierda." He cursed under his breath, seeing the title of your bakery was the one he wanted to invest in or create a partnership with.

"Hey guys! You have to try these jelly doughnuts!" Miles called out to two of them.

Lyla got up and patted Miguel's shoulder. "Sorry big guy, but it's one or the other...unless you want both. Then again, it's her choice too. Good luck."

Miguel was convinced it was the unluckiest day he's ever had in his whole life. He wasn't sure if he could pick, but he also knew it was all up to you.

———

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfics @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

( Titleless)

Pairing : Platonic Miguel O' Hara X Teen, Daughter, Symbiote Reader

Genre : Mostly fluff, canon level violence, tinge of angst

Summary : Hiding your symbiote from your father was pretty easy. Until it wasn't anymore

Requested/idea by: @graesage

Wordcount: 1.2k

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

You really shouldn't have messed around back in the day in Alchamex. While your father had been off and about his about multiverse research, you had slipped into the hallway and into a seperate room where you found a bunch of funny liquid looking vials.

There, you found Toxin. It had escaped from it's vial, and slipped under your skin. It was so quick, you thought it was okay. That nithing remoteable had happened, though you did have a funny feeling.

Until you had looked into the mirror that night, surprised to see someone completely different in there. Because it was still light outside, you had shaken your head, thinking it was just a funny trick of the light. It wasn't, and you fainted when you found out that it could speak.

When you woke again, you were on the couch. And you weren't alone. There was a new voice in your head, a new kind of power in your system.

Eventually, you got to test it out. And testing you did. Now you just had to hide it. You couldn't let your father know. Your father is spiderman after all, so hiding the symbiote was much more easier than expected.

He was always busy running the multiverse. And now, from time to time, you would join in to help. Your watch is concealed by Toxin's skinlike suit, which leaves people in question how you really enter different dimensions when you jump out of the same portal they do. Lyla was the one who had given you the watch, helping you keep it a secret.

For a good while, you manage to hide your identity quite well.

" What hapened?" You ask your father as he steps into his lab.

You were helping him do his job as you so often do, looking at his screens while he's out. You're munching on a bar of chocolate as he steps in.

He looks a little roughed up, which is expected after the rough fight with a Mysterio variant.

" That spiderwoman showed up again." He huffs, approaching the platform.

You hum.

" Is that bad?"

" Yes and no. She's helping out for some reason. But we can't manage to track her signal. Which is annoying. Also you should really lessen on the chocolate. You've been eating as much as an addict would the past few weeks." He points out, barely glancing at the treat in your hands, stepping onto the platform.

" I've always been addicted though. Besides, if this spiderwoman is helping, why is she an issue?" You point out.

He starts messing around with the screens.

" Not like the past few weeks, you haven't. I'm surprised you didn't gain weight. And because I don't know her intentions. A lot of villains were a friend before they turned sides." He points out.

" My chocolate addiction isn't that bad. But you're saying she's a spiderwoman. What's the harm? Maybe you should invite her on the team." You huff before shrugging.

" She's usually gone before I get as much as a chance to do so. And I'm not sure if she really is a spiderwoman. Her suit is just,, different."

-

It all comes down when a Clash variant escapes. You and Toxin were less prepared than expected, as Clash's powers involved high frequencies, including the ones you're sensitive to.

" You! You're no spiderman!" Clash calls to you, engulfed in Toxin's form.

Toxin cocks its head. " So what?" It asks before charging.

Clash fumbles around with his machine, before it releases a high pitched sound, which disturbs Toxin's form. And so the inevitable happens.

Toxin pulls back into it's liquid like, globby form, jumping away midair against its will. Meanwhile, you're now stuck falling towards the ground, with absolutely nothing to protect you.

From a distance, Miguel's eyes widen, and he reacts quickly. Setting off, he webs his way towards your plummeting form. He catches you barely a few metres from the ground, and you look up at him sheepishly while he glares down at you, obviously not happy.

" I can explain-"

He sets you down on the ground, glancing at your watch, the pieces falling in place in his mind.

" Go home. We'll talk later."

He turns around, readying himself back into the fight. You sigh. You don't want to stay on the side. Knowing arguing with him is useless, you turn, leaving in a random direction to find Toxin.

However, you're not paying attention, and your eyes widen as a piece of rubble comes right for you.

-

When you wake up again, you're in the med bay. You've been here to visit your friends when they're injured. It feels a little weird to be the injured one now.

You're not alone. You're missing Toxin's presence, but Jess is by your side.

" Hey." She smiles.

You try to smile too, even though it hurts. Everything hurts. The rubble got a good piece of you. Your entire body is hurting.

" I know you're in pain, sweetheart. Miguel's on his way, said he went to get something that might help." She tells you, setting a hand on top of yours.

You carefully nod, before closing your eyes to rest again. Jess stays with you, a comfortable silence settling over you.

Your mind is a bit of a mess. Toxin doesn't belong in the universe it's left behind in, which makes it an anomaly. You're worried for it's wellbeing. And you don't doubt that your father is mad at you. You just hope you can convince him to find Toxic, who can in turn heal you.

About twenty minutes pass before you hear the door open. And by the footsteps you can recognise it's your father.

" Hey. Can you leave us for a moment?  I need to talk to her." Miguel asks Jessica.

She sighs, but stands up nonetheless.

" Don't be too rough on her." She tells him, setting a hand on his shoulder before leaving.

The minute she closes the door behind her, you open your eyes.

" Dad, I-"

With a sigh, he sets a hand down on your own, and you're left surprised when a glob of red and blue forms and passes through his skin, and over yours, before settling itself into your skin.

Miguel watches with concealed amazement as Toxin's form devolps yours, your IV and whatever else was attached falling off as he speeds up your healing process. It only takes a moment, and soon enough he shrinks back into your skin, and you're feeling much. much better.

' I'm back.' Toxin's voice sounds through your mind.

" No shit." You whisper.

You stretch before turning to face your father.

" Does this mean I'm on the team?"

To your surprise, he nods. His hands placing themselves on his hips, signaling he has more to say.

" But we're going to set rules. I'm going to mentor you. And you'll need to listen to what I say, got it?" He tells you with a strict eyebrow up.

You smile as you nod enthusiastically.

" Yeah, of course!"

" And no more secrets, okay kid?"

" None. I promise!" You grin, engulfing him in a big hug.

He easily returns the embrace. a small smile making it's way onto his face.

[ A/N: If anyone knows a title feel free to share I do not lol. ]

[cinnamonpolvera]

Who’s in charge? Javier Peña x f!reader***

Summary: Javier Peña and you had been partners for eight months now, which has been nothing more than a competition over who should call the shots. One evening, Javier’s stubbornness fucks up a mission which unravels a steamy fight.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Content Warning: 18+ ONLY. Smut, sexism, physical violence, powerplay, dom!reader, sub!javi, oral sex m! & f! receiving, rimming. Maybe more please read at your own risk. Also typos (unedited).

Word count: 4.5k

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

You furiously walked into the office, steady steps you walked the minute your foot was out of the Jeep. The door behind you would’ve made a loud bang when shut closed were not for the person that stopped it, who followed your steps as you were both yelling at each other.

You turned around and faced him, looked into his eyes with one of your deadly stares. You were confrontational, you stood your ground, you had a strong personality. You always had, so it had not been that difficult for you to put people in their place in order to get what you deserved at your field of work. You were a woman, a woman working for the DEA, an environment filled with men who would always want to feel superior than you. So, you always made sure they understood, from the begging, how hard-working and serious you were and, luckily, most of the office quickly realized you actually were a good agent. All of them, to different extents, did, except for your partner, Javier Peña.

Eight months had passed since you were transferred from your native country and working place to Colombia, where you and Peña were assigned together. Since the moment you were first introduced you realized this was not going to be any easy for you. And you were correct.

Peña was stubborn. He always wanted to take the lead, to call the shots. Now you understood that at first, because you were the same, because you too were a leader. But when this leadership of his started to try to walk over you, to ignore your suggestions, even some of your orders when you were in charge of the whole group in certain situations, you understood no more.

This time, he had crossed the line. Not only did he ignore your suggestion, which was a suggestion even if it was spoken as an order, but with doing that he jeopardized the entire mission. And that, you could not forgive. This stupid power game you and him played had gone too far.

“What were you thinking?” you fumed, arms crossed on your chest and your entire body tensed due to the anger.

“It was a fucking stupid idea” he yelled, point his finger directly at you as he walked towards where you were standing.

“How the fuck would you know?” you were the one raising her voice now. The office was almost desolated, except for you two and some late workers, since Javier had jeopardized today’s job and made you both lose an incredible amount of time.

“Because it was! It made no sense! It would’ve gotten us killed!” he belted, stopping his steps once he was close enough, but not touching your body.

“What you did could’ve gotten us killed, Peña. You didn’t think, you didn’t observe, you didn’t calculate. We almost had to fucking run away out there” you lowered your voice now, left arm still under your chest while enumerating every point you made with your right index finger.

He stepped closer to you, he looked so furious you thought steam would start to come out of his ears. But oh boy were you furious too. And you were done, you will let him know how far he fucked up this time.

“Now who the fuck do you think you are to come here and explain to me how to do my fucking job?” he demanded on a lower voice.

“I’m your partner, Peña, whether you like it or not. And this time, I was the one you suggested we go out there, I was the one who studied Miguel, who “befriended” him at the bar last weekend, who fucking knew how we should act based on what I learned about him.” you furiously explained “So this time, I was the one calling the fucking shots. You should’ve stayed in your lane. God knows I stayed in mine when I had to.”

“I doubt you really gathered any information that night at the bar, cariño.” he scolded, sarcastically laughing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned, more furious than before, if that was even possible.

He brushed his thumb against his bottom lip and smiled “Well you just looked so needy I began to think you weren’t really acting just to get information out of him.”

Javier felt his left cheek burning, a small tickle as the ghost of your hand.

You had just slapped him.

He looked at you dead in the eyes, grabbed your wrist and bumped your back against the wall. “Fucking bitch” he hissed.

You quickly changed positions, freeing your wrist from his hold and now grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, his back on the wall now “No, you’re the fucking bitch here. Now you listen to me Javier Peña and you listen to me good.” your grip tightened on his shirt with your every word “I am done with this power game you like to play. I am your equal, and you’re gonna learn to respect me and my decisions as your co-worker. You are not my superior.”

Javier was furious. Furious at you, for the words you were spitting and the fact that you so easily broke from his hold, but also furious at him. At the fact that you, even for a moment, physically overpowered him like that. And that he liked it.

You were strong, that he knew. He also knew you were stubborn, that you stood your ground and made everyone respect you. You and him were too much alike in that sense and maybe that was why you couldn’t seem to work together without fighting.

But in this situation, this specific situation in which you showed your physical determination was just as strong as his, his mind started to wonder.

You were hot. You were a beautiful woman, and that he knew. He had imagined many times what you’d sound like under his touch, how you’d succumb to him. How your pretty mouth would feel against him.

But that was it.

All of those thoughts would evaporate the moment you looked at him and let him know how much you hated working with him, how his mere presence seemed to bother you so much.

But oh wouldn’t he daydream of fucking you. Wouldn’t he stroke his cock hard and fast at the mere thought of you whimpering under him, moaning his name.

Moaning. You moaned so pretty and loudly. He knew that. He knew that because he heard you. One night. In the apartment complex you, Javier and Steve lived in.

He was kissing goodbye one of his lady friends when he saw you through his squinted eyes entering your apartment holding a man’s hand. He grunted, pushing his lady friend and murmuring a goodbye, closing the door shut on her face.

But that was not it. Soon enough he started to hear you. Your moans resonating so loudly he began to wonder wether the whole building was listening or if it was only him, your next-door neighbor.

He stroked his cock so hard that night despite having fucked another woman. And he made sure all of the girls he fucked from then on moaned just as loud. He asked them to. He wasn’t sure if he wanted you to be jealous or curious enough to knock on his door. He just knew he wanted you to hear.

“I sure should be” he grabbed your hands from his shirt collar in order to get you to let go of him “I should be your fucking superior. I should be the only one making decisions here.” He walked past you, starting to make his was out of the office.

Opening the door, he heard your voice behind him “Lo que te hace falta a vos es que te pongan en tu lugar.”

What you need is for someone to put you in your place.

He exhaled. Quietly shut the door that was only ajar, and locked it. He turned around and your eyes met. His brown eyes looked somewhat darker now while he was painfully slowly walking towards you.

Your noses were almost touching when he, sharp and clear, whispered “¿Por qué no me pones tú en mi lugar entonces, cariño?”

Why don’t you put me in my place then, cariño?

You squinted your eyes, trying to find any hint of sarcasm in his. But you failed. He looked dead serious.

You eyes grazed toward his mouth now, slightly open, and it looked oh so tempting. That bottom lip you’d love to bite until it bled, that moustache you’d love to wet.

“I knew you were a fucking chicken” he hissed as he started to grow distance between the two of you.

But you did not let him. Instead, you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt for a second time, it being already wrinkled, and you pulled him in for a kiss. He grunted the second your lips met, probably because of the aggressive landing, and he happily followed your pace.

Not very steady, though, your pace: you were a little impatient. The fucking tension you and Javier had been building between you two chocked you, and today was the icing on the cake. Because today, it had gotten much more physical than before with all this wrist and collar grabbing.

Your kiss was sloppy, it was needy. His hand were on your lower back and yours still on his shirt collar. You bit his lower lip, just like you had imaged doing seconds ago, and he groaned.

Your left hand abandoned its place and moved to the back of his head. You grabbed some of his hair and you pulled, you pulled with enough strength to make him break the kiss. He whined.

“I’m gonna put you on your fucking place now, Peña.” you dictated and he nodded with his head, looking at you directly in the eyes while erratically breathing.

You locked eyes while your right hand, still on the collar, made his way through his chest and abdomen, until it got to the lower part of his stomach. You untucked his shirt from his pants and gently caressed his happy trail. You bit your lip, feeling all of that hair. You found that so hot.

You had found yourself catching a glimpse of it several times in the past, whenever he stretched or did whatever movement that allowed that part of his body get some seconds of air. It turned you on so fucking much.

Your hand kept going down, and you started to caress him on his now-tighter jeans. His breath heavier and heavier.

“I love this fucking pants you always wear. They make you look like such a little slut, wanting every woman’s attention on you.” you muttered as you started to unbelt his belt.

He bit his lower lip “Ever catch your attention, baby?” he whispered.

You smile as you get his belt off his jeans, letting go of his hair and walking behind him “You have no idea, agent.”

Javier wondered what you had in mind, and his question was quickly given an answer when you grabbed both his hands and made them meet each other on his back. He gasped, and messily but incredibly quickly you made of his belt a pair of handcuffs. It was so smooth you got him wondering how much practice you had.

That thought bothered him for a second.

But quick enough to make his mind go blank, you appeared in front of him again. You pulled him in for a second kiss, one much slower and steady, but equally wet. You started to unbutton his shirt, your hands caressing his chest as it got bearer every second.

He wanted to touch you. He wanted to undress you, to get your already hard nipples, that were showing through your shirt, on his mouth. He wanted to get his fingers wet with your juices and hear you moan his name under his touch. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t, and it seemed his cock knew he wasn’t getting any of that soon because it wouldn’t stop twitching under his tight jeans.

“Please—“ he whispered, pulling out of the kiss.

“I’m not listening to you today, Peña.” you stated as you finishing unbuttoning the shirt completely “I am here to teach you a lesson. On your knees.”

Your command took him by surprise, his eyes widening a little bit. He muttered something you couldn’t understand and, without breaking eye contact, obeyed. He got on his knees in front of you.

You did your best not to show him how surprised you were. Javier Peña kneeled in front of you almost as quickly as you commanded him to.

You smiled at him “Look at you, being so obedient. You’re finally being good, Peña.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed your clothed core. You gasped for air, took a step back and frowned.

“Now who told you to do that?” you sneered.

“I want you to ride my face. Now.” he ordered.

You nod your head left and right “You’re not the one in charge now” you made clear.

He quickly stood up and kissed you. It was so rapid you didn’t even have time to process it. He kissed you hard. It was a sloppy, needy kiss, in which the sound of your breaths and wet mouths were loud.

With his body, he gently pushed you towards the desk. When your ass felt the cold wooden structure, you pulled away.

You made your made behind him for the second time in the evening “Bend over” you ordered.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Bend over, agent.” you repeated, this time in an angrier tone.

He cleared his throat, and seconds later did as he was told.

You got behind him, your core touching his butt and your chest touching his back. Your hands made their way into the zipper of his pants, and you started unzipping them.

“Now Peña, why are you such a disobedient little agent?” you whispered on his ear as your hand started to caress him through his underwear.

“I wanna fuck you so bad” he grunted.

You chuckled “Oh, you will not. Believe me”

He grunted “We’ll see about that, agent.”

You quickly got him off of his pants and underwear as those words left his mouth, and you slapped his ass.

He groaned.

The room was filled with silence.

“Okay” he whispered after a while.

“What did you say?” you called for him to speak louder.

“I said–“ he cleared his throat “I said okay.”

You leaned towards him again and kissed the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. Your hand found its way toward his front again, and you grabbed his now bare cock.

God. You found yourself second-thinking your later statement now that you felt his length on your hand. His hard, throbbing and already wet from precum felt so good in your hand.

You started softly stroking it, as he groaned.

“Mmm” you said on his ear “Javi, you feel so good I might as well think about it now” your tone had changed. It had soften drastically, and he noticed it too.

“Yes, baby. I would love to fuck you. If– if you let me.” The words left his mouth unsurely, but you quickly reassured him as you caressed his hair and made a throat approving sound.

“You’re becoming a good boy, mi amor.”

He nodded as he felt your hand go faster. You kept stroking his cock as you got on your knees behind him “Baby, spread your legs for me will you?” you asked this time.

You didn’t command anymore. You asked.

And he noticed that.

He quickly did what he was told, leaning forward toward the desk. He found his own breath stuck on his throat when he felt your mouth cupping one of his balls.

“Fuck–“ he groaned.

You giggled, sending vibrations throughout his whole body, and continued to stroke and suck. Your free hand gently caressed the palm of his well-tied hands, and he shivered under your touch.

It then made its way towards his buttcheek, and slapped it, loud and hard. He moaned, whispered your name.

You let go of his balls and he groaned. You licked your thumb and immediately went back to giving his balls attention.

Fuck, that drove him fucking crazy.

He found himself not breathing for the god-knows-what time in the evening when your thumb started to gently, very softly caress his perineum.

He couldn’t believe you were doing this. Surely, he had been curious enough in the past to go past what you were doing right now, but he never thought someone would actually do it to him.

And it drove him fucking crazy.

“Baby” you called from behind, stopping the strokes on his cock “I’m gonna untie you know, okay? I want you to stroke your pretty cock while I do my job behind you”

He nodded, even when unsure if you could see. You stood up to untie him and leaned forward once again, while softly grazing your thumb on his wrists to caress them after having been tied. You whispered into his ear “Javi, if you ever want me to stop, just ask. Don’t be afraid to do so.” You made clear.

“I won’t” he softly answered and you nodded.

It was the first time you ever called him Javi. He loved it. He loved the contrast you were giving him this evening, too. Slapping him, restraining him, ordering him around and now paying so much attention to his body, his response, his pleasure, his comforteness. It was driving him fucking crazy.

You drove him fucking crazy.

His train of thought quickly stopped when he felt your hands separating his butt cheeks, on your knees again “Touch yourself, baby” you commanded and he obeyed.

You spit on his asshole. The mere sound of it made him groan but what made him stop breathing was the feeling of your complete mouth on his fucking ass.

You were eating him out.

Your tongue was caressing his hole so eagerly, all he could do was stroke his cock. Hard. The combination of sensations was driving him mad. It was heavenly. You groaned behind him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine.

His name left your mouth several times “F–fuck. Yes. Yes, please.”

You giggled and, oh God wasn’t he close.

His body started to vibrate, to shiver, to tremble. He was about to cum.

He called your name. This time, waiting for an answer.

“Mhm?” you asked, mouth busy.

“Fuck. Can I– Can I cum?” he cried.

Goodness, the fact that he asked in that whiny voice made you get your right hand under your pants and start touching yourself.

You started circling your clit “Yes, baby, you’ve been so good for me. Cum. Please cum.” you responded and got your mouth to it again, moaning on his asshole while inserting two fingers on you.

The moment he heard you say the word please, a huge load made its way out of his redden tip. He groaned, moaned, almost screamed your name as his seed met the office floor.

He took some time to calm his breath. He got up from the desk and turned around, to look at you.

What he saw almost made his cock hard again. You were on the floor, riding your fingers as your left hand was squeezing your breast. Your eyes were shut, you were biting your lower lip.

“Stop” Javier dictated, his deep voice contrasting with the whimpering mess he was two minutes ago.

You opened your eyes and met his gaze “What did you just say?” you asked softly.

“Get up” he cooed your name.

You cleared your throat and did as he told you. What the fuck were you doing? Weren’t you the one who got him on his knees half an hour ago?

Oh but you didn’t mind, you knew that at the back of your head. You wanted to command Javier as much as you wanted him to command you. You could play both roles and much to your surprise, you had found out Javier could too.

“Look at you, so obedient now, cariño. Sit on the desk for me. Legs wide open.” He requested.

You did as you were told. You sat on the desk and you opened your legs. Javier’s gaze went down to your clothed core. You were wearing black pants, and he found that the fabric was even darker around your pussy.

Fuck, he was going to get hard again, no doubt about it.

He walked towards you and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, hungry kiss as if it was your first. It finished almost as soon as it started though. He gripped your legs and closed them in order to get you off of your pants and panties.

He kneeled before the wooden structure and put one of your legs on his shoulder, the other one up the desk.

“Look at you, getting on your knees without being asked to” you teased from above.

“We’re not so different from one another, I see” he chimed, planting warm kisses in your inner thighs. One of your weak spots. “If I remember correctly, just some minutes ago you were on your knees, behind me, and fucking fingering yourself, agent.” He softly bit your flesh.

You gasped and giggled “Mhm. That’s right baby. I still have to kneel in front of you, though. Javi I want you on my mouth so bad.” you cried.

He looked at you with an eyebrow up, not revealing the fact that that statement got his blood rushing towards his cock once again “Now, do I hear begging?”

You shook your head “Te estoy dejando saber lo que pasará la próxima, Javi”

I’m letting you know what’s happening next time, Javi.

He chose to ignore the fact that you stated that there was going to be a next time. Not because he didn’t want there to, God knows he fucking did; but because your smell had been hitting his nostrils for quite some time now and he felt so fucking hungry.

The second his tongue came in contact with your soaking folds, you screamed. You didn’t mean to, but it took you by surprise and you were almost dripping in anticipation.

A sound came out of Javi’s throat and the pulled you to the edge of the desk to be able to have access to more of you. His tongue was on your entrance and his nose against your clit, touching it so persuasively. You effusively moved your hips back and forth to masturbate your own clit with it.

“J–Javi next time I’m riding that beautiful face and that– that beautiful nose of yours, understood?” you stated and he grunted, an approval noise coming out of his mouth and sending vibrations through your whole body.

The fact that you called him beautiful did not go past him.

“You bet your beautiful ass you are, cariño” he agreed and directed his mouth towards your clit now, sucking it hard.

“Oh, Javi!” you cried.

You moaned loudly, you cried, you whimpered. Your usually deep voice turned to a high-pitched tone that moment, and that made Javier crazy. The versatility your body held made him go out of his fucking mind.

“I love your fucking moans. You don’t know how many times I touched myself ever since I heard that blonde bastard fuck you” he confessed as two fingers slipped into you, feeling your tightness around them.

“You– you what?” You asked, astonished, but somehow hornier from that confession. You looked at him, bitting your lip in order to suppress your moans so that you could hear him.

He nodded “Mhm. You got me so hard that night” he started to finger fuck you slower, making you whimper even when your lip was almost bleeding from your biting.

“I was alone” you confessed.

His fingers stop for a second “What?” he asked, looking at you with his brown doe eyes.

You nodded “I remember. I was alone. I got home with Jack but when I saw you making out with your lady friend, I had to kick him out. It wasn’t him that I wanted”

His fingers started to move inside you slowly again, this time finding your spot, making you loudly moan and feeling a warm, creamy wetness coming down “You made yourself scream that loud?” he asked. His voice had dropped an octave and he was looking at you dead serious while you were dripping on his fingers.

“Estaba pensando en vos, Javi, por favor” you cried, your hand reaching to your clit.

I was thinking of you, Javi, please.

You didn’t need to ask twice. The thought of the both of you, touching yourselves thinking of each other, was enough for him to make his mouth meet your clit again and eat it out aggressively. Slurping you, sucking you raw. The sounds filling the room were so filthy it got you even closer.

He was so loud while eating you out. It turned you on so fucking much “J–Javi I love the sounds you make” you whimpered.

He groaned, he cried on your pussy. You were so fucking hot. He wanted to tell you he loved the sounds you were making but fuck, he couldn’t find himself growing any distance between his lips and your core. He was addicted. He fucking loved it.

He fucking loved you.

“Javi fuck” you moaned “I’m so close baby please, you’re so good” you cried.

Your fingers locked themselves into his hair, pulling him closer, if possible, and pulling from it. He learned that only made him harder.

“Cum for me cariño. Acaba en mi cara” he managed to mutter.

Cum on my face.

As if on command, you did. You came so hard, so loud, his name leaving your mouth, echoing through the whole office. A few tears rolled down your face from pleasure and you tried catching your breath, still occasionally whimpering. You were shaking. Javi was looking at you while sucking you clean. You met his gaze and pulled him up when you were already overstimulated.

He got up his knees and looked at you, wiping the tear he just saw rolling down your face.

“Did I just make you cry?” he whispered softly against your lips.

“You did” you confirmed, pulling him in for a deep, slow kiss. Your hands touching his skin gently this time, with the mere purpose of caressing his body. They made their way into his wrists, softly taking them into your hands, pulling them apart from your hips.

You broke the kiss and conducted his hands to your lips, to gently place warm and sweet kisses where his wrists had been marked by his belt.

He melted under your touch, carefully inspecting your every move. You looked up and smiled “What?”

“Go on a date with me” he said softly.

You smiled and peck kissed him “Bueno, mi amor”

[partyanimal167]

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

[plzu]

sleeping with roaches - (Miguel O'Hara x Symbiote!Reader)

summary: You have nowhere else to go but under Miguel's skin. warnings: explicit 18+ MDNI, no Y/N, angst, hate sex!!!, interrupted orgasm, unprotected p in v sex, hair mention/hair pulling, hurt no comfort. if i missed anything pls let me know ♡ a/n: title from p!atd's build god, then we'll talk wordcount: 3.2k

Miguel O’Hara does not like you.

An understatement.

“Nnh-”

You lay prostrate beneath him, his right hand fisting the hair at your scalp where he’s just tugged at, causing you to react in that subdued whimper. Miguel's thighs cradle your hips, bulge pressed flush between the constricting fabric of his suit and your denim-clad cheeks.

“Stay quiet,” he mutters harshly. He feels you nod in his grip, sees your fists clench in the dim blue lighting against the floor.

This is what he has to do to keep you in check, make sure you don’t get too restless in HQ between missions.

If he had it his way, you’d be with all the other anomalies. Imprisoned. Confined in one of those cramped energy fields. No longer able to stalk around as you please, taunting him just by existing in your civvies. Distressed denim and scuffed-up combat boots, not a single spider-like motif adorning your figure. 

Because you’re not really one of them. Something Miguel is sure to remind you of with each scathing, red-eyed glare he shoots your way whenever you say or do anything that catches his attention. 

He knows the others in the Spider Society (minus Jessica Drew, who Knows Better) try to assure you to not take it personally. He glares at everyone like that, they say, an awkward chuckle that he doesn’t think does anything to comfort you. You’re not an idiot, after all. He can admit that much.

(Except that it is personal. There’s a red-hot, simmering fucking rage for the thing that you are, and the thing that you host in the confines of your flesh.)

Some of them rally to your defense, try to convince Miguel that you can be trusted. “She's not him, Miguel,” Peter B. says. “She's not Eddie.”

That's half the problem, isn't it.

He wants to ignore you completely, but that’d be irresponsible. Instead, he tries to pretend you aren’t there. Spider Society is huge, he should be able to go days without running into you. Yet you can’t seem to stay out of his sleepless radar. He catches glimpses of you on his displays--the way you pick at your food in the cafeteria; fist-bumps and easy smiles with several Peters; the sway of your hips as you roam the halls…

When he’s holding briefings about another anomaly and deciding who to send over to retrieve them, it’s your voice he picks up on out of every other quip and muttering in the room. He zeroes in on you, scowling. The faltering quiver of your smile when you notice his stare makes his brow furrow even more. 

Oh, and when you laugh? A sound that stands out, loud and brash. Prickles his fucking ears. His eyes narrow at the raised apples of your cheeks, gleaming teeth and glee because Peter B. Parker or Hobie or some other Spidey said something that couldn’t have possibly been that funny-

Deep breaths.

He’ll send you out with the others to help catch the anomalies that pop up now and again. It’s the only other time you can let loose, let it bubble to the surface and stretch its - your? - legs and bare its wretched fangs.

It’s not even yours. But you refuse to part with it, and it with you. 

While it’s beneficial to you--having you tag along with the others to different dimensions--it also means you’re out of Miguel’s sight. It’s the only time he has some semblance of reprieve from your existence, which riles him up so much it increases that pulsing pressure behind his eyes. 

Everyone else has their own dimensions to get back to, lives to live. But, unless you’re crashing with Spider-Punk, you don’t have the same privilege.

So you’re here. On Earth-928. Because you have nowhere else to go but under his fucking skin.

Like before, when your footsteps echoed in the dark cavern of his space. He knew it was you without even having to turn in his seat; no one else seeks him out unless summoned. Pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut from the multiple orange screens playing back footage of yet another misplaced villain disrupting another dimension. The sigh that crawled out from under his breath was more of a restrained growl when you stopped behind his chair, hovering. 

He hates the wordless hovering. 

“What?” he gruffed.

You answered, “for your migraine,” followed by the sound of something being gently placed on the surface of the desk beside him. One of his eyes slowly peeled open to see the blurry outline of a disposable cup. “Coffee helps,” you add.

“What makes you think I need it?” he asked, rubbing middle finger and thumb against his eyelids as if it'd undo the blurriness. He knows it won't.

“Well, for one, you're practically shoving your own eyeballs back into your skull.”

Miguel stopped rubbing his eyes to drag his hand down the front of his face until he was cupping his own jaw, covering his downturned mouth.

“Also,” you continued, “you squint a lot. Especially after being out in bright light like some kind of-”

“Don't say it-”

“-vampire.”

“Yeah, real original,” he grumbled.

“Just figured you could use some help after being out there before.”

He had ventured into the too-bright halls of Spider Society at the insistence of Lyla. Something about how staring at these screens all day can’t be good for his headache. As if out there is any better.

He doesn't understand why you keep doing this. You know how he feels about you. Whereas you visibly unfurl around the others, open arms and open-mouthed smiles, you immediately clamp up when Miguel's attention falls on you. Hunched shoulders, pinched mouth, unable to hold his gaze for long.

Miguel doesn’t care for ass-kissing. That’s what this is, right? Bringing him coffee for his migraines -- something he doesn't disclose to anyone -- has got to be an attempt to fall into his good graces. Just like the empanadas from the cafe, or the random containers of naproxen with glasses of water, all left on his desk like a meek offering.

It really pisses him off.

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of turning to look at you. Sometimes it's like he can't even really bear the sight of you -- your eyes, your mouth, the curve of your thighs -- it twists his stomach into knots some days. But he picked up the cup of coffee and brought it to his mouth for a sip. Still hot, of course, but the cup doesn't do much to retain heat so it doesn't scald. Black and just a little sweet.

You always bring it to him just how he likes it. He hates that, too.

You hadn’t left yet, and he didn't like this swell of ticking silence between you. The very obvious space you occupied at his back made his skin prickle. Hyper-aware of your presence. It made his teeth grind.

He took another sip. “What are you still doing here?”

You cleared your throat and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Was, uh- was wondering if there was anything else I could do to help.”

Miguel let your words hang in the air for a moment, allowing the weight of it to settle over him as his lips hovered over the rim of the cup. The forefinger of his left hand tap-tapped against the arm of his seat, restless as he considered your offer.

You've done this before. This wayward give and take of flesh against flesh. And with a headache the size of his fist pounding in the thick of his skull...

Miguel sighed and downed the rest of his coffee before finally standing up. The slow, deep breaths he took enunciated the expanse of his back, broad shoulders finally on full display for you to see.

You're supposed to find it intimidating. It was not supposed to be enticing. It was not supposed to make excitement flutter low in your belly in anticipation for what he said next:

“Alright. Remember the rules.”

“Keep quiet.”

His head turned expectantly to the side, so just a sliver of his cheekbone and the corner of his right eye were visible. “..and?”

“...He can't come out.”

Miguel stalked away, deeper into the shrouded blue recesses of the room. Obediently, you followed. Like something lost that's desperate to be found.

Which brings you here, face-down beneath him, letting him rut against your ass in a steady, controlled pace as he pins you against the cold metal floor. There's something depraved about the whole situation, he’s aware of that, but it's worse for you, isn't it? It's gotta be; you're the sick one here of the two of you, getting enjoyment out of letting him use you like this. He doesn't even like you, and you know this.

And yet, still, you seek him out. Practically beg to be fucked by the only Spider-Man out of the hundreds in HQ that truly despises you.

His cock twitches uncomfortably with impatience, the need to stuff himself inside you almost maddening. Miguel yanks your jeans down by the hem so that it pulls snug over the slope of your ass. You grunt from the rough, quick movement, and it's not loud enough to chastise you for, but he brings one large palm down to smack lightly at a cheek just to be sure you remember the rules.

But then you moan. It's a quiet sound- something he can't get mad about. But it punctuates the full body shiver that overtakes you and it does something to him. Inexplicably makes him salivate, overwhelms him with the urge to devour you.

His mouth clamps shut — he doesn't know at which point his jaw dropped open in the first place — and scowls. “You're depraved, you know that?”

What he gets in response is- giggling? No, that can't be right.

Miguel looks around before landing a bewildered stare to the back of your head. You're laughing? At something he said?

In a frenzy, he shifts his weight so he can turn you over. There's desperation in the movement, something he will never admit to or could ever explain. When your face is finally upturned to him, his eyes land hungrily on the curve of your lips.

Miguel knows he's not one of the funny ones. There's too much at stake. He's lost too much, and humor just isn't his forte. He's too angry for it. Too focused.

So he stares at the smile on your face, listens to the breathless way you laugh after having been spun around, and lets the sound bury itself into his heaving chest.

Something in his expression must look weird, or wrong, or scary or angry or whatever the fuck else people think when they see his face nowadays--as if in slow motion, he watches the laughter start to slip from your expression, and it's like you're beginning to clamp up again. Like you always do when you notice him staring.

There's this pang of dread that grips his heart, a quick stab of pain that he can't put a name to. Swiftly, unthinkingly, he further shoves your pants down to your ankles, underwear included, so he can coax some of that pleasure back to your face with his fingers.

And just like that, a brush of his middle and forefinger against your slit, and the reserved mask you were slipping into disappears with a hitched breath that gets caught in your throat. His thumb presses against the bud of your clit and he's rewarded by the way your brows pinch at the sensation.

Two of his fingers slide between your folds, and it's already so wet. He slips in easily, warm and welcome, but he keeps his eyes on your face the whole time. No minute movement or change in expression goes missed, even in this dim lighting, not to his keen eyes. The corner of your lower lip disappears between your teeth as he pumps in and out of you, simultaneously keeping pressure on your nub with his thumb.

When his gaze trails downwards, he finally notices that you’ve apparently got yourself a new shirt. Black tee, thin white lines making an asymmetrical pattern of webs that spread from your heart. Miguel mockingly tilts his chin towards your panting chest. “Think that’s cute?”

You shrug. “It was on sale.”

He scoffs. “You expect me to believe you paid for that?”

“Five finger discount.”

One of his twitches inside you. 

“It’s like you exist just to torment me.”

His suit recedes, disappears in a digitized pattern down his body, revealing the toned, tanned skin beneath. He ignores the disappointed whine you make as he removes his hand from your heat to instead hold your hip down. He lines his length up with your entrance, ready to replace his fingers. The bulbous tip of him just barely notches itself between your lips when he reminds you to behave.

The reminder just makes your hips jerk up- the action slides him seamlessly into you. You both groan, an intermingle of incorrigible sound in the shared space between you. It feels like you're sucking him into you. Miguel falls forward, right hand coming to a slapping halt by your head against the flat, frigid floor. It makes you flinch; helps him regain control. He bares his fangs in a snarl, hovering by your face as his pelvis sits flush against your groin.

“Coño, I said behave,” he growls in your ear.

“S-sorry,” you gasp when he slides out of you. “D-didn't mean to.”

He slams back in, and you bite down on your tongue to keep from crying out.

You're trembling underneath him with the effort of keeping your hands to yourself. It's one of the unspoken rules of this unspoken arrangement, something that was learned after the first or second time. Your arms had snaked around his torso to pull him closer, and he reacted -- badly -- cutting the exchange short.

Miguel didn't know he'd react that way. Was probably some act of innate self-preservation -- it's when his distrust and distaste of you was still unwaveringly high.

Would he mind now?

Doesn't seem like waters either of you wanna test.

He continues rocking his hips into you, widening your thighs with each thrust. You must have kicked off a pant leg before; he's able to dig into you with much more ease than the position should have allowed.

Needing something to grab, your hands first at the hem of your shirt. It stretches the fabric taut against your bouncing chest and Miguel has to snap his jaw shut just to stop himself from diving into your collar bone to rip your shirt off with his teeth.

He forces his gaze lower, to where he repeatedly disappears into the clutch of your sex. There's push-back as your hips cant with every thrust, attempting to reciprocate. Give and take. The feel of your inner thighs are tense against his rolling hips; it's obvious you want to wrap your legs around him, pull him closer, keep him clutched to you but you're fighting back the desire in order to make this last. Savor the torment of this incandescent pleasure.

So he does you the favor of hitching one of your legs up. Cradles the back of your knee between thumb and forefinger as he brings your thigh up, can feel saliva pool under his tongue as he watches in fascination your pussy open up to him in this altered position. He grinds down, fucking into you deeper. The course hairs at his naval brush against the sensitive nub of your clit and it unravels something within you. Makes you clench all the more tighter around his thrusting cock.

He picks up the pace, plunging in and out of you faster and faster, the swollen tip of him knocking repeatedly against the spongy wall at your center. Relentless in pushing against the pressure that will bring you both to your release. But it coerces helpless whimpers from you, mewling that tumbles liberally from the tortured twist of your lips. He hisses a sharp shh as he clamps his left hand over your parted mouth, muffling moans, completely engulfing the bottom half of your face.

Miguel’s face hovers over yours, focused on the well of tears shimmering in your eyes like fractured glass. On the way your lips feel in the cusp of his palm, warm, moist breath trapped in against his skin.

Something tightens in his lower abdomen. It’s a dizzying feeling, intense and all-consuming and wiping all senses out of his mind. His head dips lower, closer, until his lips skim across the ridge of his knuckles. 

You notice. Of course you notice; your eyes grow wide at this illusion of affection, releasing the tears in a stream down your cheeks, disappearing into your hairline. Your pussy clenches needily around him, impossibly tighter. “Fuck,” Miguel hisses.

A full-body shudder wracks your pinned frame as your eyes flutter, rolling back in an overwhelming burst of ecstasy.

An absolute loss of control.

Inky tendrils erupt from your very flesh, slithering and obscenely alive as it starts to envelope you.

“¡MALDITA SEA!”

Miguel rips himself off of you as his suit quickly reforms over his naked body. He stands at a  crouch, arms taut and open at his side, fingers flexed, anticipating an attack.

“Shit shit shit!” you gasp, hunched over your lap on the floor as the symbiote recedes, disappearing under your shirt.

Seconds tick by as you face each other, shoulders heaving, willing your respective heart rates to slow down. Miguel on the defense. You waiting for- for something. For the head of the Spider Society to snap at you. Grab you by the throat and crush your windpipe for breaking the rules, even if it was an accident.

Or worse. Take away the watch that allows you to exist in the first place. Force you to glitch out of existence.

When your breaths finally even out, and Miguel is certain there's no danger, he straightens. Turns his back to you.

“Get out.” Cold and quiet.

“Miguel. Miguel, please-” tear streaks mark your face as you beg for him to understand, beg for him to forgive you. Beg for him not to hate you any more than he already does.

“I don’t want to say it again.”

“-I'm- I'm in control again, it was an accident, I swear-”

“I said GET OUT!” he shouts, upper body twisting towards you as his mask falls back to reveal the angry lines of his face and menacing protrusion of bared fangs.

The finality of his words makes you shrink, and you scramble to pull up your jeans as you finally stand. Head bowed, you hurriedly make your way past him, holding your left wrist close to your chest. As if shielding the watch, like it'd do anything to stop him from ripping it off of you if he wanted.

When the echo of your footsteps fade, Miguel roars and tears out the nearest bulk of metal from wherever it’s attached to the floor, flinging it hard across the room. The crash it makes as it lands becomes the resounding pulse of his still-present migraine. 

Miguel O’Hara, really, really, does not like you.

taglist: @whatevermonkey

[marlboroenjoyer]

let me show you my thanks

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore. 

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.

“we’ve– i’ve– been trying to contact you.” another long beat. “you had duties to fulfill. you’ve been holed up in your dimension while i thought– lo que sea…”[1] his mouth snapped shut before he finished his sentence, cutting himself off before giving an exasperated sigh. his hands rubbed down his face, before revealing his eyes which were intensely trained on you. your expression gave nothing away, you were just going to stand aside and watch him fight with himself inside his head; or maybe he’d even just give up and leave. part of you hoped for the latter, but you also wanted him to finally be able to figure out how to speak to you.

“listen. i understand you were, shit probably still are, angry about how i reacted.” his words for grating against his clenched teeth and set jaw. clearly this was very difficult. “but i didn’t know how to react to the fact that you were a breath away from meeting death. i had come to terms with death a very long time ago. but i don’t know if i’d be able to get over it, if you died.” you continued to let him speak, watching him as he chewed on the words and mulled them over in his head. 

“you are so fucking annoying sometimes, but you are so lovely and you’re so soft. and i know you can hold you own but you…” you could practically see steam coming from his ears, as the cogs in his brain turned away trying his best to figure out how to express his thoughts. he stopped talking for a moment as he approached you slowly. “tenía tanto miedo que sentí ganas de vomitar.”[2] his voice was a fraction of the volume it once was. his hands gently grabbed yours.

“i’m sorry i was…more or less a dick. you didn’t deserve that, especially after you saved my skin. quería… darte las gracias por salvarme la vida.”[3] his eyes bore into your own. now you were genuinely speechless, and not just holding out due to spite. thankfully your body acted for you, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around miguel’s strong abdomen. you let your head rest against his chest and you waited for his reaction. after a few beats his arms wrapped around your frame. his head ducked down to tuck into the crook of your neck.

you whispered out a thank you, to which you felt a quick puff of air escape miguel’s nose. he couldn’t understand why you were thanking him. you pulled your arms back and over his shoulder, gently grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling his head back up to look at you. before he could say anything you lightly placed your lips onto his in a timid kiss. an action so tender and so soft, it managed to shatter miguel's heart and rebuild it anew. it took less than a second for miguel to kiss you back. immediately the atmosphere changed, electricity surging through the both of you as miguel deepened the kiss. his hands skated around your body, kneading the flesh underneath his fingers whenever he paused his ministrations.

your hands were still occupied with fists fulls of his hair, and you took that as an opportunity to tug on his hair as you two made out. his mouth pulled away from yours for the briefest moment; allowing himself to let out a breathy groan. his hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, squeezing hard making you yelp. as you both made out, he was backing you up into the wall; and before you even realized your back was pressed flat against the wall. his knee immediately slid between your thighs, slotting right between them as if you were made to fit against each other. 

his thigh pressed hard against your core, and you let out a stuttering gasp at the pressure. he gradually took hold of all of your senses. he was becoming overwhelming. you gently pushed against his chest, humming against his lip as his tongue continued to play with your bottom lip. he pulled his head away after a few more moments, almost irritated by the prospect of leaving your lips for more than thirty seconds.

“what’s wrong mi amor?” his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. “are you still hurt?” you shook your head in response. he had backed up enough to let you slip out from between him and the wall. you grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. the whole apartment was dark aside from the dim lamps you had lit scattered around the few rooms. you could hear the rain still colliding with the glass of your window, however that was mostly drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you swore miguel could hear it as well, which only made matters worse.

you had merely dreamed of scenarios similar to these, never once thinking they could actually become real. some section of your brain wondered if you were passed out in bed already. sure you and miguel were amicable with each other, but he was such a shut off man that you were never really able to characterize what you were to him; and vice versa.

the end of your bed came in contact with your calves, and miguel pushed you down onto it. you landed with a quite huff, while the realization of what was going to happen tonight dawned on you. miguel must’ve seen the deer in headlights look on your face, as he leaned down with his hands bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

“i want to show you just how grateful i am for what u did for me… only if you allow me.” his face was nothing but completely genuine, giving you a way to say no to all of this if you really wanted to. you didn’t say anything in response, you merely wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into a much more heated kiss. miguel groaned low in his throat at the feeling of you yanking him down. unfortunately for you though, he started pulling away, instead standing upright once more to take on his suit. with a quick shrug of his shoulders his chest was exposed, suit still sitting low on his hip. not like it was hiding anything from you. you could clearly see the line of his hard dick straining against this unstable molecular prison.

“baby, if you want this to keep going… im gonna have to hear you say it.” the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a sly smirk. he wanted nothing more than to hear you say how much you wanted him at this moment. fuck he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of your plush lips opening to beg for him. he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, observing the way your struggled with vocalizing your thoughts.

“miguel…” your voice was a pathetic whimper, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate your desperation. miguel’s practically rolled back into his skull, hearing you say his name like that– his big hand gripped your knees which had been brought up to your chest, his talons threatening to spring out and dig into your soft skin.

“say it baby. i gotta hear you say it.” he edged you on, his erection now pressed firmly against your ass as encouragement.

“miguel please… i need you so bad. dreamt about this moment.” your confession felt like a swift quick to the chest, successfully ridding his lungs of any oxygen. you’d dreamt about this before. how could he hold back now.

“dios mío… siento que un día me vas a matar.”[4] his voice was a mere growl at this point, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you. “tell me, what exactly have you dreamt about?” he shifted you further up onto the mattress, giving him the opportunity to box you in with his huge frame. embarrassment was licking at your subconscious like flames, making your whole body get swelteringly hot. but there was something in miguel’s expression that egged you on. you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t tell him.

“i think about your teeth…a lot… recently i’ve found myself– ugh this is so…” you covered your face with your hands before continuing on. “i think about you biting me…again i guess… i think about your venom.” you just never ceased with rendering miguel speechless, he guessed it was just one of your many talents at this point.

you were starting to get nervous about your confession. miguel hadn’t responded yet, but before you could get too into your own head you felt his lips ghost over you neck; right across the spot he bit you the first time. your breath hitched in your throat, and you involuntarily whimpered.

“you’ve really gotta trust me if you want that. you’d give everything up to me.” you only nodded your head. you trusted him; in all honesty you think you trusted him more than almost anyone in the society. you heard him click his tongue sharply.

“what did i say earlier? if you want this i gotta hear you say it.” you felt his breath fan over your neck, as he peppered small kisses all over it and your chest. you had wrapped your legs around his waist, and he was very gently grinding down into you. gentle vibrations wracked their way through your entire body causing small gasps and whimpers to come spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

“please miguel… i surrender everything to you. i trust you.” that was all he needed to hear before he bit down into your trapezius muscle, just like before. only this time you were much more aware of the effects now. he stayed like that for a couple seconds longer, before detaching from your neck and licking away the blood from the wound. slowly but surely you felt all motor functions slip from your body. you were overcome with this euphoric dullness, you felt like you were floating. while you slowly felt all control drain from your body, miguel was making quick work of your clothes, sharp claws slicing through your shorts and shirt like it was nothing. he whispered promises of new clothes as he continued with your bra and panties.

“how are you feeling mi amor? can you speak at all?” you acknowledged miguel’s questions with a quiet moan. as much as he wanted to take his time with you, work you up before tearing everything back down; he knew he had very little patience left, and limited time to work with the venom. your metabolism was extremely fast in comparison to the usual suspects he would subject his venom to, so he had much less time to keep you in this dreamy haze. he wanted to make sure the only word you could think of was his name.

the rest of his spider suit disappeared into nothing as he positioned you. you legs had fallen from his waist a little while ago when you first started feeling the venom, so he flipped you over onto your stomach. he arms wrapped underneath your hips to hoist you up so your ass was in the air, with your back arched and chest pressed into the mattress beneath you. he knew he was going to warm you up. miguel hasn’t exactly had many partners as of late but he was aware of his size. one of his hands found its way to your pussy, his other hand bracing your hip and keeping you steady. his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit. hazy pleasure rolled through you, like waves lapping at the shore. long strung out moans clawed their way up your throat; spurring miguel on. his fingers had moved from your clit, moving deeper in as they breached your hole. a deep groan echoed through to room.

“christ you’re so fucking wet. such a slut, ready to give up any control.” god his dick was painfully hard now. pulsing steadily every few seconds, weeping precum and begging to be buried deep in your hot cunt. he felt your walls flutter and clench when he degraded you, and he filed that information deep into his brain. his fingers were so overwhelming through the fog that settled inside your skull. your breaths had become erratic, chest rising and falling to desperately take in air. you moans were cracking, as miguel fully rammed three fingers in and out of you.

“i hear you baby, i hear you. im gonna take care of you.” he curled his fingers in search of that one spot that would make you see stars. it didn’t take long for him to find it as your volume increased even more. 

“m-mig…” you desperately tried to form words; to warn miguel of your rapidly approaching orgasm. you were fighting against the paralysis and the overwhelming floating feeling. your pussy clenched down tight against miguel’s fingers, a sudden wetness coating most of his hand. he pumped his fingers a couple more times as he worked you through your orgasm. once your breathing settled a little he gently took his fingers out of you. he took his fingers into his mouth, grunting as your taste flooded his taste buds. 

his patience had thoroughly snapped, two iron grips digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your aching pussy. he steadily began to push himself into you, breath getting punched out of him with every inch your hot walls enveloped. once he finally bottomed out, you both needed time to catch your breath. you were so full of him and you finally felt complete. the only thing you could think about was miguel. no amount of time could have prepared you for miguel to start moving. he immediately set a brutal pace, the sounds coming out of him resembling that of an animal. 

“god you’re– holy fuck- practically strangling me. greedy pussy just sucking me in for more.” you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. miguel curled in on top of you, pressing you flush against his broad chest. one hand started rubbing hard circles into your clit, whiled the other held you firmly to him. the placement of his arm across your chest allowed him access to your nipples, something he quickly took advantage of. he tweaked and pinched the hard pebble, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. he wanted to look at your face as he caused you to come undone for a second time. your mouth had lulled open, freely drooling onto the pillow beneath your head. tears squeezed their way out of your eyes.

your bodies stuck together, the sweat clinging to your skin. miguel continued to incoherently mumble spanish to you, and you were far too blissed out to listen to anything at all. the white hot coil in the very bottom of your stomach threatening to snap. you cunt fluttered and clamped down on miguel’s dick. it only spurred him on even more, his pace punishing now as he fucked you into the mattress. a long broken scream boomed from your throat as you came, your vision going completely white despite you eyes being clenched tightly shut. your eyebrows screwed up in an expression of pure pleasure. miguel slammed down fully into you, his cock kissing your cervix as he came with a loud moan. you were already so full of his cock that there was practically no room for him cum. he watched with wide eyes and his cum spilled from your spent pussy dripping down around his cock that was still inside you.

he let you both level out before pulling out as carefully as possible. the friction still causing you to cry out in overstimulation. miguel hushed your cries by pressing light kisses all over your face and neck. his thumbs brushed away the stray tears. he finally turned you back over, carefully laying your head back down onto the pillow below you.

“can you move at all mi amor?” your headspace had still not returned to normal, seeing as how you didn’t really respond. miguel got up from the bed and quietly padded over to your kitchen. you whimpered out for him to return, not enjoying the silence of being alone in the room in this loopy headspace you’ve found yourself in. a few moments later he returned to the room, a cup of water and warm washcloth in his hands. the bed dipped underneath the weight of his body as he set the cup of water on the table for a moment and began working on getting you clean. once this was done he flung the now dirty washcloth into your hamper.

his strong arms shifted you for the last time that night, leaning you against him with your head cradled against his chest once he had gotten comfortable. with you in this position he reached over to grab the water and pressed the rim to your bottom lip, silently offering. you dipped your head back just enough to take a couple of careful sips before relaxing your head against him once again. with the rain as white noise in the background you drifted in and out of consciousness. 

“gracias, mi amor.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] - whatever

[2] - i was so scared that i felt like vomiting

[3] - i wanted... to thank you for saving my life

[4] - dear god... why do i get the feeling you're going to be the death of me

[miceonpluto]

Anomaly 888

Part 1 Part 2

Next part is finally out!! Biggest thank you to my best friend and editor Leeks, this fic wouldn’t be nearly as good without her help🫶🏾Little translation not for characterization purposes, “sin duda” in this context means “without a doubt” not “definitely” as google translate will lead you to believe hehe Let me know what you guys think PLEASE feel free to go insane in the comments its so fun. Also let me know if you wanna be on my tag list for this fic!! Okay now enjoy hehe

3.2k words

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

“Miguel don’t you think you went a liiiiiitle too far?” A woman’s voice said from somewhere above you.

“If little anomalía here hadn’t tried to run away I wouldn’t have needed to snatch her like that.” You recognized that voice from earlier. It was the same smooth baritone that taunted you while they took you from your home. His name is Miguel?

“She passed out dude. You could’ve at least tried to explain before you brought her here.” The woman's voice was much closer this time, it sounded as if she were right next to your ear. You groggily opened your eyes and all you saw was red. Where even was here? Your head spun and you groaned as you tried to stand on numb legs, so numb that you had to lean against the wall for support. Once you felt stable enough, you stood up straighter and looked around. A small lady in pink heart glasses and a white trench coat suddenly hovered above your nose, she was so close that you had to cross your eyes to properly look at her. “Oh you’re awake! Hiii~” She chirped. You recoiled and hit the wall behind you and just as quickly as she appeared, she was back outside of the glass.

You hadn’t realized how confining this room was until then, all four walls were so close that you couldn’t fully outstretch your arms in any direction. “Where am I!” You shouted to the two blurry silhouettes that stood behind the red walls. “Jess, she’s awake.” The deep voice you now know belonged to a man named Miguel called out and a third person walked up, now there were two people and…a pixie? All ogling you like you were a caged animal at the zoo. The tallest one walked closer and tapped the glass twice with his knuckles and the frosted glass became transparent. You could see each person clearly, a black woman with a sleek red jacket stood in front of the cell, gently caressing her round stomach. The little pixie with glasses sat on her shoulder with her legs crossed, she tilted her head and smiled at you when she caught your eye. Next to the two of them, was him. His previously red eyes were now brown and looking down at you indifferently. You took note of his large biceps, now feeling a little better about how easy it was for him to take you away. He was wearing a skin tight suit that reminded you of SpiderWoman’s back home, he even had a similar spider stretching across his broad figure, though his design was a bit different. He had his hands on his hips and quirked his brow when you furrowed your own and shouted at him.

“Who the hell are you!? How’d you get in my room?! Why were you going through my stuff?! You abducted me!” You felt your blood boil as you got more and more angry at the absurdity of the situation. You glared at him and his slightly irritated stare only angered you more. “Are you done?” He asked, visibly unamused. “I-“ You started to speak again but he cut you off.

“Great. I’m Miguel O’Hara. My accomplice here is Jess,” The dark skinned woman nodded at you.

“The other is Lyla, my artificial intelligence companion.” Miguel continued.

“Awwwww you think I’m your companion?” Lyla crooned.

“Shut it. I’m being professional.” Miguel snapped and Lyla giggled in response. He rolled his eyes and continued.

“I’m only going over this once.” He said and took a deep breath, “You’re in Nueva York in the year 2099, this is my universe. I’m this city’s one and only Spider-Man. You belong to earth888, you’re here because your SpiderWoman reported you as a potential anomaly. There can only be one, and only one spider in each universe and for some reason, yours had two, you being the second. Your very existence could disrupt the canon and cause a multiversal collapse so I took you from your universe.” He rambled off so fast and with so much information it made you lightheaded. Multiverse? What does he mean my SpiderWoman? The audience of three could tell you were dazed by the info dump and Miguel sighed. He pinched his brow and pressed a few buttons on the watch he was wearing and the red walls that surrounded you began to slowly recede into the floor below.

“You just need to see it for yourself.” He said as he reached for your wrist. You jerked it back, “See what? Where are you taking me?” You demanded to know. He grabbed your wrist and slipped a white band on it. “What is this?!”

“A day pass. It’ll keep your atoms from glitching out and killing you.” He sighed as Lyla teased him. “I told you to give her the debrief in her room.” She hovered over to him and poked his cheek.

That reminded you, “Hey! How’d you get in my room?!”

“I followed you.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Your spider led you to me.”

“She…” You hesitated, “She wouldn’t do that! If you really are from another universe, how’d you get into mine?”

“With this.” Miguel held up his watch, its little monitor beeped and flashed quietly.

��What is it?”

“None of your business.” He said condescendingly.

“Except for the fact that it is because it’s the entire reason you were able to abduct me and bring me to wherever the hell I am now!” Your voice raised at the end of your sentence.

“All in a day’s work.” He completely blew you off, thwipped a web onto your shoulder and pulled you along with him.

“You don’t have to leash her like a dog Miguel.” Jess scoffed while walking along his other side.

“Maybe if she didn’t yap like one I wouldn’t have to.” He quipped. The four of you walked out of the dim room and down a long hallway. The chatter of many many voices began to get louder the further you walked, the bright light from the end made you squint and you had to blink a few times to adjust to your new surroundings. When they did, you were absolutely floored.

The hallway had opened up to a gigantic building that seemed to go up forever. Hundreds of spider people of every shape and size could be seen in every direction. Some swinging from the support beams, some standing and talking on the walkways that ran along the wall and up towards the ceiling, a lot of them greeted Miguel as you walked past. Other people stopped and stared at you being pulled along behind him, and you suddenly became very aware of how ridiculous you looked being led around like an animal. You quickened your steps so you could stay at Miguel’s side and give the web enough slack to hopefully be hidden. He looked down at you and began to speak. “Everyone here is a spider from their perspective universe. In each universe, they’re the only one. But here…” He stopped and looked around, “here they’re not. They have others like them.” You looked up at him and when his eyes met yours, you could see a glimmer of sadness sparkling somewhere beneath the surface. “I started this organization to unite the multiverses and keep everything in order so when people like you pop up, it’s my job to look into it.”

“But…I was just trying to help.” You said.

He sighed, “We all are.” He held his watch up to a keypad on a large gray door and it beeped and shone green. His voice hardened as he continued, “But that’s not your job.” The doors slowly opened and the four of you stepped inside.

“So I should just let people get robbed? Killed? Even if there’s something I can do to stop it?”

“There’s nothing you could do to stop it anyways. You couldn’t even catch the robber on 64th yesterday.”

“But-Hey! How’d you know about that?!”

Miguel ran his hand down his face. “I was there. Your spider was the robber and the woman she “stole” from was her girlfriend. They picked up her purse right after you left.”

You twiddled your fingers and tried to come up with a good excuse. “Well at least I got her purse. And the robber was…I was just having an off day.” You played with the hem of your sleeve and looked at the ground.

He stepped in front of you and looked at you earnestly. “We can’t afford to have off days.”

You hummed, not sure what to say next. He gently tugged at the web, urging you to follow him to a wall of labeled storage lockers. He stopped at one labeled Anomaly 888. “If you were there when that happened…” you thought out loud, “You stole my suit!”

“I confiscated it.” He said without looking down and typed in the code for the locker. A888. Pretty on the nose. Inside was the duffle bag from the night before, Miguel took it out and handed it to Jess, who had already sat down in front of the many large monitors in the center of the room.

“Run diagnostics on this stuff. Scan every page and have her suit analyzed.” He said while unzipping the bag and pulling your suit out. You were relieved to see it was in perfect condition. Jess nodded and laid your things out on a large table while Lyla began to scan your suit with her phone.

“I have some things to take care of, I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He said and pulled you with him, you took one long, sad look at your suit before the doors shut behind you. You tried to memorize the path you took to get to the office. Left, left, left, then a right. There’s a bathroom, and a restaurant is around the second corner. Your stomach growled. Whatever’s in there smelled so good. “You hungry?” Miguel cocked his head towards the restaurant. “You heard that? Over all these people?” You asked, feeling your face flush.

“I hear everything.” He said with a subtle smile and led you to the menu.

“Hey boss! What’ll it be?” A spiderman in a white suit wearing a chef's hat bounced up to the counter and leaned on the counter.

“Just a coffee for me. And whatever she wants.” Miguel said, gesturing to you.

“Ooooh~ who’s the lady? I haven’t seen her around here before.” The chef sang.

“Oh! I’m-“ you started to introduce yourself but Miguel cut you off.

“She’s not staying.”

The chef seemed to get the memo and asked “Well Miss Not Staying, what can I getcha?” He asked with a wink.

“I’ll just have a turkey sandwich please.” The chef disappeared into the kitchen and came back with your orders surprisingly quick. You and Miguel thanked him and continued on your way to the office.

Right, left, right. He led you through two intricately carved metal doors and flipped a switch when they closed behind you. Evening light flooded the room as the large window blinds rolled themselves up. His office was gorgeously furnished, bookshelves lined three of the walls, all completely stacked with stacks of books, papers, magazines, notebooks, and various other trinkets. Huge potted plants lined the perimeter of a cozy looking blue couch that sat up against the other free wall. Above the couch were various picture frames, filled with what looked like children’s drawings. A grand mahogany desk and plush arm chair sat in the middle of the room on top of an extravagant rug. The desk itself was pretty bare, save for a single picture frame and a long rectangle that ran horizontally along the far side of the desks perimeter. “This is beautiful.” You said breathlessly. “Infinite universes, infinite spidermen, one of them is bound to be an interior designer.” He said and sipped his coffee. You began to walk towards the couch but you stepped on a little toy car and fell backwards. Miguel pulled the web on your shoulder up and set you back on your feet. “Thanks.” You exhaled. He hummed in response. You looked down and carefully tiptoed over colorful blocks and little dolls strewn about the floor. You sat in the middle of the couch while Miguel got settled in at his desk. “Do you have kids?” He froze and looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. Grief? Anger maybe? “What?” He asked with an edge that made you uneasy. “I just assumed…because of the toys on the floor and stuff.” You said, almost apologetically.

“Oh.” He said flatly and peered down at the toys. “Those are Mayday’s toys. Peter B’s daughter.”

You nodded your head and looked around the room awkwardly while taking the occasional bite of your sandwich.

He pressed a button on the desk rectangle and a large floating screen hummed to life above a keyboard that was being projected onto the wood. He began typing furiously and you sank further into the couch as boredom began to set in. “Why am I even here?”

He glanced at you briefly then diverted his attention back to the screen. “Would you rather be back in solitary?” You shook your head. “Then cállate. Stop complaining.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I can't let you out of my sight until I figure out what to do with you.”

“So I have to sit here and wait for you to be finished?”

“Dios mío!“ He snatched a random book off of the shelf next to you and plopped it in your lap.

An Extensive History of the Discovery and Exploration of the Multiverse. You flipped through the thick book and scanned the tiny words. It could have been an interesting read if it wasn’t full of scientific words that hadn’t yet been invented in your timeline. You tried to lay on your side to get more comfortable, but the web connecting you and Miguel tugged his hand down. “Sorry.” You muttered as he scowled at you and snapped the string off of him.

Soon the sun had fully set and the bright lights of the city illuminated the office. You’d pretended to be sleep for the past hour, you kept your breathing steady and occasionally peaked to see if he was getting tired too. You could tell Miguel was trying to fight off sleep by the drowsy droop of his eyes and hunch of his back. He yawned and his sharp canines gleamed. Your breath hitched at the sight of them and you tried to keep your breathing consistent. That quick glimpse of his fangs reminded you what could go wrong if you messed this up. He shut off his computer and placed the picture frame on his desk face down. “Buenas noches mi chiquita.” He said softly. Who was he talking to? You wondered, but caught yourself before you let your mind wander any further. You needed to focus. You kept your eyes closed and waited until his breathing had leveled out to open them again. When it did, you peered over at him. His arms were crossed and he was leaned back comfortably in his chair. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you had worked up the courage to slowly stand up and wrap Miguel’s discarded web around your wrist so it wouldn’t drag along the floor behind you. You tip toed your way towards the door, making sure to not to disturb any of the toys that tripped you earlier.

You held your breath as you cracked open the office door painstakingly slowly and slipped out as soon as the gap was big enough for you to do so. You closed it behind you and as soon as it clicked shut, you took off. The compound was eerily still and quiet, the lively atmosphere had been drained from the walls and all that was left was the quiet echo of your footsteps and shallow breaths. You passed the restaurant from earlier so you knew you were going in the right direction. You skidded to a stop once you made it to an intersection. You came right left right on the way here so now…you looked down either hallway and bit your lip unsure of which way to go. You shook your head and decided to go left, since you were coming from the opposite direction. “Right then left”, you whispered to yourself when you came upon two more intersections and sprinted through the empty building until you made it back to the familiar storage room doors. “Damn it.” You hissed once you realized you didn’t have a watch to open the doors. Upon closer inspection, you saw one door was left slightly ajar, you tried to get a good grip with your fingertips on the edge and pry it open but to no avail.

There wasn’t enough space for you to get a solid hold on it. You stood there anxiously until you remembered the web wrapped around your wrist. Perfect. You yanked the other end off of your shoulder and slung it onto the door. It stuck! You took a few steps back and pulled as hard as you could. It didn’t budge. You turned around and pulled the string over your shoulder and trudged forward, slowly the door gave way and you internally rejoiced once you finally got it open wide enough for you to get inside. You wrapped the web back around your wrist and felt your way along the wall to find the lockers. There was barely enough light for you to see the labels engraved on them but you eventually found yours. You tapped the keypad and its faint blue light shone bright enough for you to see the letters and numbers on it. A888. You typed in the password and the locker popped open. You reached inside and found the duffle bag. The zipper was way louder than you expected it to be and you winced as it broke the silence. Your suit was neatly folded inside and you quickly put it on and put the straps of the duffle bag on your shoulders as if it were a backpack. Time to go. You weren’t really sure what direction would lead you out and away but you didn’t have time to think about that. You picked a random direction to go and you started swinging across the pillars with your borrowed web.

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

Miguel opened one eye and scanned the room. You were gone. “Lyla.” He whispered. She flickered to life on the desk below and yawned. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Has ev-What? What do you mean, you don’t even sleep? Why the hell are you yawning?” She shrugged, “I like to pretend.”

He rolled his eyes. “Has everyone evacuated?” Lyla scrolled through her phone and gave him a thumbs up.

“Activate discrete lockdown.”

“Done.” She said as she followed him across the room. “Are you sure you can catch her? You’ve given her quite the head start.”

Miguel cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as he stepped out of the office.

“Sin duda.”

••●── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ──●••

Thanks again for reading!!

Tag list @mynameiswilliamblake

[im00flynn]

Across the Spider-Verse

Summary: When Gwen introduces you to her new friend from another dimension, you can't help but feel drawn to him. But as you get to know Miguel O'Hara, you realize that there's more to him than meets the eye.

Warnings: A bit of angst but mostly fluff

A/N: This is my first Miguel O'hara fanfiction, and this is sort of bad 😭 Also you are Gwen's friend in this.

------------------------------------------------------

You had always been fascinated by the idea of alternate universes, so when your friend Gwen told you that she had made a new friend from another dimension, you were beyond excited. You couldn't wait to meet him and learn more about his world.

When Gwen brought Miguel O'Hara to your apartment one evening, you were struck by how different he looked from the Spider-Man you were used to seeing. His suit was sleek and futuristic, and his eyes glowed behind the mask.

"[Name], meet Miguel," Gwen said, introducing you to him.

Miguel extended his hand, and you shook it eagerly. "Nice to meet you, [Name]. Gwen has told me a lot about you."

You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Likewise. So, what's it like being from another dimension?"

Miguel chuckled, taking a seat on the couch. "It's definitely different. The technology is more advanced, and there are some pretty strange creatures out there. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Miguel's easy charm and intelligence. He was a natural storyteller, regaling you and Gwen with tales of his adventures in his own universe. You couldn't help but feel a sense of longing as you listened to him, wishing that you could experience his world for yourself.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel found yourselves alone in the kitchen, washing dishes. You could feel the tension between you, and you wondered if he felt it too.

"So, [Name], what do you think of me?" Miguel asked, his voice low.

You turned to face him, feeling your heart race. "What do you mean?"

Miguel smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I mean, do you like me?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked away. "I don't know. Maybe."

Miguel stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours. "I like you too, [Name]. There's something about you that draws me to you."

You felt a surge of excitement at his words, and you looked up at him. "Really?"

Miguel nodded, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Really. And I want to get to know you better, [Name]. Will you give me that chance?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of elation. "Yes, Miguel. I'd like that."

And with that, you and Miguel began a whirlwind romance that spanned across the spider-verse. You traveled to his world, where you saw sights that you never could have imagined. You fought alongside him against strange creatures and villains, feeling a sense of exhilaration that you had never felt before.

But as much as you enjoyed the adventure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about Miguel that you couldn't quite put your finger on. He was secretive at times, and there were moments when you caught him staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

One night, as you and Miguel sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, you decided to confront him.

"Miguel, what's going on?" you asked, turning to face him. "You've been acting strange lately."

Miguel sighed, looking away. "It's nothing, [Name]. Just some things from my past that I'd rather forget."

You reached out to touch his hand, feeling a sense of empathy. "You don't have to keep it from me, Miguel. I'm here for you."

Miguel looked at you, his eyes softening. "Thank you, [Name]. That means a lot to me."

And with that, Miguel opened up to you about his past, his struggles, and his fears. You listened intently, feeling a sense of connection that you had never felt before. As he talked, you realized that there was more to him than just the Spider-Man persona. He was a complex, multi-dimensional person, and you couldn't help but fall even more in love with him.

As the night wore on, you and Miguel sat in comfortable silence, watching the city below. You felt a sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you had found someone who understood you in a way that no one else could.

"[Name], I have to tell you something," Miguel said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, feeling a sense of apprehension. "What is it?"

Miguel took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I love you, [Name]. More than anything in this world. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll have me."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked at him, feeling a sense of overwhelming love. "Yes, Miguel. I love you too. I'll spend the rest of my life with you."

And with that, Miguel took you in his arms, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away. As you held each other, you knew that you had found something truly special - a love that transcended time, space, and the spider-verse.

[normal-sea-urchin]

Casey Jones Fucking Dies: Chapter 8

AND IT IS DONE! chapter eight that is. uh, @achilles-invulnerable-heel @veritas-dolos @clanofjones @theosb0rnway @builtlikeastickofcelery @samuel-yippee @less-depresso-more-espresso ok i think that covers all the tags. uhhhh, but anyways this chapter may have a slightly different vibe as it was written from casey's pov. anyways here ya go pookies, enjoy!

Yes. Yesss.

That stupid turtle actually fell for it. Casey couldn't believe Raph thought he would actually forgive him. Yet here he was, in the turtle's body, glaring down Raph's spirit, which was now trapped in the mirror. 

"Sorry, but this body's taken." he hissed, giving the turtle's ghost a toothy grin. The look of fear in his face was all too good. "Anyways, I have places to be. Later, Raph." Casey taunted, putting emphasis on the mutant's name.

Casey took a step towards the door, only to stumble and put his hand on the counter for balance. Huh. It had uh, been a while since Casey had needed to actually walk around. not to mention that he was now a turtle. Kind of. A mutant turtle. Close enough. Either way, being in this body might take a while to completely get used to. 

But casey didn't exactly have tons of time. Possession wasn't easy, and he didn't exactly have the practice. So whether or not Casey knew how to even walk in this body, he needed to. Just gotta get to my house, he thought to himself. 

He took a step, and another, and placed his hand on the door knob. He turned to face Raph's ghost in the mirror one last time. He gave one last, toothless grin; he blinked his eyes to wash out the ghostly green glow, now replacing it with the turtle's striking green eyes. He blew a taunting kiss towards the horrified face in the mirror before swinging the door open and waltzing out of the bathroom. 

Casey had been watching Raph and how he acted around his brothers and father since he became a ghost; meaning it wasn't very hard to imitate how he acted, at least until he got out of the lair. Casey tried to walk over to the turnstiles (which he had learned was the entrance and also the exit) but was stopped by one of the turtles.

"Yo Raph, where are you going dude?" Dammit. Casey slowly turned a bit to see which turtle was talking to him. It was the orange one, with the blue eyes. What was his name again? Marco? No no no. Uhh, Miguel? Mikey? Mikey! It was Mikey. 

"Uh, just going on patrol, I'll be back later." he lied. Ugh, he sounded like Raph. He sounded like the guy who killed him. It felt weird. To be honest the entire 'being in the body of a five foot tall mutant turtle' thing was weird. Y'know what, that would explain why he sounded like him.

"Hmm, okay dude." Casey turned back around and sped-walked over to the turnstiles as inconspicuously as he could. Casey turned the corner out of the lair and as soon as he was sure he was out of earshot, he started booking it. 

He didn't really have a reason why. I mean, he wanted to see his sister and his room, but he didn't really have any reason to rush. but it felt nice. It felt good to run. It felt great to do anything. Even though the smell of the New York sewers was the worst thing imaginable, Casey was glad he could smell at all. 

After a while, Casey reached a sewer plate. He couldn't wait to see his room again. He rushed up the sewer ladder and shoved the sewer plate up and out of the way. Here he was. Back on the surface. Casey took a deep breath in. 

The sound of car horns and people yelling and even just people's shoes clicking against the pavement brought such a comfort to Casey. It felt amazing. God, he had missed this. It took Casey a moment to remember what exactly he came up here for. Right, his room. Gotta get to his apartment. 

"AAAAAH! MONSTER!" a feminine voice from behind Casey yelled. He whipped around to sees some blonde chick yelling and pointing at him. Shit. He totally forgot he was in Raph's body.

Casey quickly scaled the nearest fire escape. About halfway up, he noticed that the woman had ran away; so he continued his climb, peaking into the windows of the apartment complex as he did. As much as Casey hates the whole normal life thing, he kinda missed the mundanity of life. 

Y'know, waking up in an unmade bed, cooking breakfast for himself and his sister, riding his bike to school after dropping his little sister off, going to the convenience store after school for a snack, that kinda thing. And even the occasional hockey game or practice, or maybe his little sister needed help with her homework. Casey missed it. 

He reached the roof of the building and turned around, looking for a store or restaurant that he would recognize. He knew New York like the back of his hand; if he could just see how close the park or something was, he could easily get home. Aha! The old theater that Casey went to like, all the time. That meant he was about seven blocks away from his apartment.

He turned to face the direction his apartment building was in and mentally charted out a route of buildings to hop across. Shouldn't take too long. Casey walked over to the edge of the building, looking at the distance between this one and the next. He took a few steps back before sprinting towards and leaping towards the next building.

Casey landed with a tumble near the middle of the building. He did not expect to jump that great a distance, which left him a little shocked. But he shook it off with ease, of course. He really needed to get used to the whole mutant turtle thing if he was going to posses Raph more often, which he planned on doing. 

Either way, he began to fade into a cycle of leaping from building to building for a few blocks until his apartment complex was in sight. Casey stopped for a moment, taking a moment to catch his breath. God he missed the burning in his lungs when he ran. He missed the wind blowing through his hair, which was still something he missed considering Raph was bald... 

Anyways, he continued towards to his apartment. Upon reaching the top of it, Casey started rushing down the fire escape to his room. He could barely contain his excitement. He threw the window open and leaped into the room, feeling the carpet underneath the turtle's feet (which felt like, really big to Casey). 

Casey waltzed over to his bed before letting himself fall face first into his pillow. He inhaled deeply before rolling over onto the turtle's shell. Man, he missed his room. His eyes shot over to his desk, where his face paint was.

Hmm.

Face paint. Casey had an idea. He walked over to the desk and sat in the old, torn chair  in front of it. He tried his best to get comfortable, although Raph's shell made it a bit hard. After deciding that this was as comfortable as he could get in this body, he turned his attention to the desk.

...

His homework was in the exact same place he left it. He had blown off finishing it in favor for vigilante-ing...

Whatever. Casey pushed it aside. Not like Mrs. Thomson's math class mattered anymore. Casey reached for his black and white face paint, hoping to push those thoughts away. He turned the small mirror on his desk towards him, turning it downwards to fit his now much shorter height.

"This is for FUCKING killing me freak face!" Casey remarked, pointing at the turtle's face in the mirror. 

"GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING BODY!" Raph screamed back from his mirror prison; making Casey flinch back. He was not expecting a response. 

"Mmm, no. You could some time for reflection. Get it?" Casey mocked. Raph face morphed into a scowl before fading away, leaving Casey alone. Now then, the face paint.

Casey tugged the red mask off the turtle's head. He reached for a brush before dipping it into the white face paint. He smudged the paint all over the turtle's ugly mug. After two coats, the turtle's green skin was no longer visible. Casey grabbed a second, smaller brush for the black paint and went to town. 

It felt good. Defacing Raph. The man who killed him so ruthlessly. The man who had taken Casey from his sister, and from April, and from hockey, and from his life...

Whatever.

After a little while, Casey had finished. The black accents had taken only one layer, cause of how dark it was. And thus, it was done. The turtle had now donned totally metal skull face paint. Casey looked in the mirror, admiring his handiwork. Just one thing was missing. Casey reached into the left drawer of the desk and pulled out one of his spare bandanas. He tied it around his forehead and leaned back into the chair. Y'know the bandana really pulled the whole thing together. 

While staring at his new reflection, Casey thought back to his life before. Before his death. Before, when he had his own body, and didn't have to possess a mutant turtle. He regrets ever taking it for granted. Man, this was bumming him out. 

Casey's eyes began to wander around the room before landing on his hockey gear sticking out of his bag. Hmm. Casey walked over to the bag and crouched down beside it. He began to rummage through the contents, finding hockey pucks, spray paint bottles, and some other junk. Maybe he could take it with him, sneak it into the turtles's lair, so that he could throw up some graffiti or something next time he possessed Raph. He decided it best to at least take it with him, even if he didn't put it in the lair. He threw a few more things in: his face paint, some old clothes that just might fit over the turtle's body, that kinda stuff. As he was hunched over, he heard a voice erupt from behind him.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Casey whipped around to see his little sister, Angel, staring at him with wide eyes. 

Oh no. Ooooooh no. Angel couldn't see Casey. She couldn't see Casey looking like... this whole situation! He threw the bag onto his shoulder in a panic and quickly fled the scene. He ran up the fire escape, paying no attention to his sister's "HEY! GET BACK HERE!" 

He made it up to the roof before repeatedly sprinting and leaping over to a rooftop about a block down. He took a moment to breathe, turning and looking back towards his room; looking back towards his sister. All this time, he had missed her, so much. But now, after having seen her, he wishes he hadn't. The way she reacted, the way she screamed... Casey felt like a monster. 

And it was all Raph's fault.

                _______________________

The clinking of the spray paint cans in Casey's bag echoed through the abandoned subway tunnel. He was now on his way back from his apartment to the turtle's lair. The thoughts about how his sister reacted to seeing him still haunted his mind. 

Man, fuck all of this. Casey didn't care enough to hide the bag. He didn't care enough to try and wipe off the face paint he did. He didn't care enough to pay any mind to Raph's voice echoing in his mind, demanding his body back. 

As he made it closer to the lair, the sound of the other turtles became clearer. A grin began to crawl onto Casey's face the closer he got. This was gonna be good. 

He turned the corner to face the turtles and April with an unnerving grin on his face. The turtles all seemed to be watching some dumb cartoon show while April was on her computer. Casey dropped the bag to the ground, but still holding the strap in his hand. He stood, waiting for a response or even a reaction, still grinning.

The turtles were staring at who they thought was they're brother with looks of confusion. But April, April was glaring at Casey, her eyes wide, yet angry.

"Raph... Where did you get that bandana? And that bag?" she interrogated, dragging a finger up to point at Casey's bag. The grin on Casey's face cracked into an eerie smile.

"Oh, y'know. Stole it from this guy I killed." he enthusiastically replied. The room fell silent. Dead silent. 

"...What?" April muttered slowly. 

"Yeah!" Casey remarked, "I think you knew him, his name was Casey. Casey Jones." 

And with that, Raph fell to the floor. Unconscious, but now in control of his body.

[vxxxb]

DEPRIVE ME [4] - Miguel O'Hara x Reader

[Synopsis] - After an incident that jeopardizes your position at HQ, Miguel O'Hara becomes a constant reminder of the high expectations and zero tolerance for mistakes within his ranks. Everything takes an unexpected turn when Miguel sees the potential in your abilities and decides to enlist your help for a more personal endeavor. [Notes] -Slow burn, strained relationship in the beginning, slight angst, eventual fluff. Reader is ethnically Hispanic, with race not specified. Part One | Part Two | Part Three | 3.49K words

The cafeteria was lively as you sat across from Peter, every other Spider-variant within the premises also aiming to appease their hunger. Eagerly, you bite into your empanada, relishing the combination of its crispy crust and velvety melted cheese.

Peter chuckled, nudging you from underneath. "Easy there, kid." 

You playfully roll your eyes. "As if you didn't devour your burger just moments ago. Isn't that right, Mayday?" Your voice turns affectionate as you address the adorable little redhead crawling behind you.

Mayday giggles, the feeling of her tiny hands and feet creating small ticklish sensations around your neck. You can't help the snort that escapes you, hand scooping her up from behind and bringing her to the front with a mock stern expression. "Alright, that's enough crawling for today." You let out a chuckle. 

"Like that will stop her," Peter snickers as he places her in the carrier, fully aware that it won't contain her adventurous self. Which becomes true, as she manages to climb over him instead. 

Peter remains unfazed by her antics, shifting the conversation to a different subject. "So..." He begins.

"So?" You raise an eyebrow curiously, prompting him to continue.

"Alright, there's no easier way to say this," He says between bites of his fries, "but it's weird."

"What is?"

"You and Miguel."

"Me and Miguel?" You repeat slowly, trying to grasp his point.

"Yeah, you and Miguel," He confirms, fully devouring his fries. 

You rest your weight against the table, your hand propping up your face. Peter's remark about you and Miguel piques your interest, and the look you give him leaves no room for ambiguity; it's clear that you want an explanation.

Peter clears his throat, his hand rubbing nervously at his neck as he searches for the right words. "Listen, it’s just…you don’t have to force yourself to work with him, kid." 

His concern catches you off guard. Peter had always looked out for you; He was a great mentor despite his occasional childishness, but this was the first time he explicitly expressed worry about Miguel. Normally, he'd dismiss Miguel's personality as mere brooding, choosing not to dwell on it.

Your eyes soften. "I'm fine, Peter," You reassure him. "Trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," He points out. "Look, I like Miguel, he's my friend-"

You choke on a laugh, finding amusement in his assertion.

"He's my friend," Peter emphasizes, teasingly raising an eyebrow. "And I know he hasn't done anything personal to me," He shrugs. "But when it comes to you… there's too much risk."

You contemplate his words, responding with a soft hum. You can't deny that there's truth in what he says. Miguel’s temper was unpredictable, and his actions were often headstrong. But things had taken a different turn in the past three weeks.

For one, you now reported directly to him. No more relying on Jess, Peter, or even resorting to bribing Hobie - That fucker - into delivering your reports. The excessive missions, which left you sleep-deprived and struggling to balance your academics and hero responsibilities, were no more. Even the constant paranoia about your time at HQ vanished, along with the fights and threats that used to overshadow your days. It was simply... No. More.

And yet, you couldn't shake off this persistent feeling whenever you were around Miguel; This feeling was different. It was a mixture of curiosity and unsettled nerves. Finally, you were getting to know Miguel beyond the role of your antagonizing leader -- Not that his personality was any better.

During the short time you worked together, you came to observe his behavior closely. Miguel became easily irritable, seemingly insistent on having everything run smoothly; Promptness and discipline were non-negotiable. He sought competent recruits and had little tolerance for the younger Spider variants, particularly Hobie and occasionally Gwen. Pavitr seemed to be the most favored among the three.

As a leader, he exuded authority and demanded respect from those under his command. However, it was hard to ignore that he could be overbearingly uptight in his approach — a characteristic that was hardly surprising to anyone familiar with his leadership style.

Yet, he also displayed moments of serenity — a side that still felt foreign to you. These glimpses intrigued you, especially since they seemed to occur more frequently due to your arrangement. But you knew better than to let your guard down. After all, Miguel was a paradox that you were still trying to understand.

Mayday's gurgling brought you back to focus, you taking notice of the look Peter was giving you. You sigh as you sit up, "I'm fine, Peter." Seeking to steer the conversation elsewhere, you inquire, "Anyways, where's Gwen?"

Peter relents at your response, though you sense he wants to say more on the matter. "She's back in her universe, doing her usual patrolling," He answers. "You know, typical friendly neighborhood Spiderman duties."

"Right," You nod, feeling a pang of realization that it's been a while since you patrolled your New York. "Gotta work on that," You mutter, pursing your lips.

Your dimensional watch then lights up. With a brief groan, you throw away any remaining food, quickly ruffling Mayday's curls and flashing Peter a sheepish smile. "Duty calls," You roll your eyes. 

"Take care, kid."

"Not a kid!" You call out as you web away. 

------

You grumble as you glance at the clock on the wall for the third time. "Where is he?"

You have been waiting for the past fifteen minutes, and Miguel was still nowhere to be found. Bouncing your leg impatiently, you call out to the only thing that keeps track of him. "Lyla!" You shout. "Where is he?" You narrow your eyes as the AI pop.

"He should be here soon." 

"You said that last time."

"Okay, okay." Lyla concedes, summoning a small hologram screen. "He should be here in... three, two, one."

On cue, a portal opens up, your eyes following the tall figure that propels himself forward, his formidable claws acting as both anchor and propulsion against the resistance of the floor. You wince as the grating sound of his claws scrapes against the surface that echoes through the room. 

You raise an eyebrow, hip jutting to the side by his lack of acknowledgment. "Someone certainly enjoys making an entrance," You murmur under your breath.

"What was that?" He snaps. 

"I said how great of you to be here," You respond, forcing a smile.

"I'd lose that tone if I were you."

"Or what?" You taunt, sauntering over. "You'll kick me out again?" You suggest with a small smug smile on your face. "I thought we were past that, boss."

"Miguel," He corrects you with a firm tone.

"Right, of course," You reply, feigning an apologetic tone.

You catch him out of the corner of your eye, taking a deep breath as he tilts his head to the side, seemingly attempting to regain his patience; you snicker. Testing Miguel's patience has somehow become a source of amusement for you. Part of you knew it was a bit of retribution for the problematic months he caused you in the past -- Small payback for the frustrations endured. On the other hand, doubt also played a role; You couldn't help but wonder when or what would disrupt this unusual balance between the two.

"Do you understand?" His voice prompts your attention back to the present.

"Hm?" You look at him confused, inwardly cringing as you realize you've zoned out once again.

Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face while murmuring a mantra under his breath, "Paciencia, paciencia..."

With a swift motion, he opens a portal, indicating for you to follow. "Just follow my lead," he instructs.

You follow Miguel through the portal and find yourself in a bustling cityscape. It's a different version of New York, one unfamiliar to you. The building you stand on is sleek and futuristic, with holographic advertisements flickering around every corner. The coloring in this universe is oversaturated with warm yellow undertones, reflecting a tropical and dry climate that matches the city's appearance. As you take in the sights, you can't help but fan yourself to combat the heat.

"So, what's the plan?" You ask, attempting to focus on the mission. "And why are we here?"

Miguel glances at you, noticing your efforts to cope with the weather. "We're here to meet a friend of mine," he explains, brows furrowing at the word 'friend'. "They've gathered some intel for something I need."

"Which is?"

"Not worth mentioning," He replies curtly.

"So what? You brought me along to keep an eye on me?" You retort, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

"Would you have preferred working on catching the Lizard with Jess?" Miguel counters a touch of sarcasm in his tone.

"Shutting up now." You mutter, not willing to argue any further.

"Glad to agree on something." He remarks with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, the two of you diving off the building and swinging through the city. Several blocks away, you finally land in an alleyway, your eyes scanning the surroundings before fixing on a figure leaning against the wall. It doesn't take long for you to recognize that distinctive black ensemble. You purse your lips, casting a sidelong glance at Miguel.

"Seriously?" You remark. "You consider her a friend and not Peter."

Miguel lets out an exasperated sigh, removing his mask as he strides toward her, with you following closely behind.

"Felicia." He addresses with a nod.

The woman smirks, her fingers playfully curling around her hair as she chuckles. "Que paso mi rey? No kiss this time?"

At her remark, you raise your eyebrows in surprise, realizing she speaks Spanish -- Of course, she does -- but the mention of a kiss catches you off guard. Once again, you cast a sidelong glance at Miguel.

"Felicia," He warns, brushing off your inquisitive stare. "Did you bring the drive or not?"

Felicia nonchalantly pushes herself off the wall, her hips swaying as she walks over to you, seemingly disregarding Miguel's presence. "And which variant are you?" She asks, her finger tracing down the exposed area beneath your mask, an alluring glint in her eyes.

A wry smile plays on your lips. "The one with boundary issues," You quip, hands firmly grabbing hers by the wrist to snatch away from your face. Irritation surges within you, already vowing to give Miguel a piece of your mind after this.

Felicia hums, her demeanor exuding confidence. "Feisty," She purrs, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I can see the appeal." She gives you one final glance before shifting her attention back to Miguel. "And I did," she says, holding up a silver drive between her fingers, her other hand resting on her hip as she grins.

"Now for your end of the bargain," She adds, her movements fluid and seductive as she approaches Miguel, lingering hands pulling him closer by the neck before abruptly kissing him.

"I'm gonna be sick," You groan, unable to bear the display before you. You turn away, shielding yourself from the awkwardness unfolding. Despite your best efforts, a small gag escapes you as you hear Felicia moan during the kiss. The whole situation leaves you feeling thoroughly impatient to get this ordeal over with.

The distinct sound of Miguel clearing his throat snaps your attention toward them. Every aspect of this situation bugs you; Nothing was more disturbing than witnessing your boss engage in flirtatious banter with a notorious burglar. 

"Was that necessary?" You click your tongue.

"Of course, mi reina," Felicia smirks, a mischievous glint in her eyes as her other hand raises a small transparent vial for you to see. 

You study the object in her hands, realizing the implication of what she did. "You extracted his venom?" You look back at Miguel. "And you let it happen?" 

Miguel doesn't offer a direct answer; instead, he's already in motion, utilizing his web shooters to swing back to the initial building you both had arrived at. You're left alone with Felicia, her curious eyes trying to decipher your thoughts.  

She folds her arms across her chest, her confident stride carrying her as she circles you. "You don't even realize, do you?"

"Realize what?"

She chuckles, her head tilting back in what is both alluring and unsettling. "Please, if I can smell it, you don't think he has?" Her question is sharp and perceptive.

You feel your muscles tense, your mouth opening to say something but unable to form the words. Instead, your hands clench at your sides, the weight of her words sinking in.

"Ay reina," She mocks. "It never occurred to you that the only other spider variant with a keen sense of smell would eventually pick up on your condition?"

She leans closer, her lips near your ear. "Friendly advice," She chuckles, "at the rate you're going, don't fight it."

With a final, knowing wink, Felicia turns on her heel, leaving you to process everything until now. Her words linger in the air, and you're left to grapple with the implications of her revelations.

------

Back at HQ, you find Miguel in the control room, fully engrossed in his work. Upon hearing your entry, he swiftly glances back, his expression unreadable, making it difficult to decipher what's on his mind.

"What?" You ask, genuinely curious about his thoughts.

"I was wondering when you'd arrive," He admits, though his face remains composed, revealing little.

You can't resist the chance to tease him, a small smirk forming on your lips. "I'm growing on you, aren't I?" You quip, propping yourself casually on an empty panel beside him. "Glad you finally caught on."

Miguel scoffs, but you catch a hint of a smile trying to break through his composure. "Let's not get carried away," he says, though there's subtle amusement in his voice.

A beat passes, then two, and an awkward silence ensues, leaving you both contemplating the unspoken words that linger. 

You sigh, mostly frustrated with yourself — Why was this hard? — Why was it that anytime there was some evident shift within your dynamic, everything shut down?

There’s some hesitation on his end as he turns to face you. "I was skeptical," he admits. "About this partnership."

You hum.

"I get it," You reply, attempting to maintain the conversation. "I kind of branded myself with that mission."

Determined to steer away from any trip down the lane of guilt or regret, you quickly perk up, summoning a sudden burst of energy that takes Miguel by surprise.

"I have to ask," You begin, your curiosity getting the best of you. "But Felicia?" You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the connection between the two.

At this, he breaks into a full-on chuckle, his deep and resonant laugh filling the room. His infectious laughter catches you off guard, and you can't help but join in, the tension between you momentarily dissolving in the shared moment of amusement.

"Felicia, she’s…" He trails offs, unsure of how to respond. 

"Tempting? Charming? A mutual you can fu-" You start to say, but his hand quickly covers your mouth, silencing you with a warning glare. You roll your eyes, partly amused by his reaction.

"Are you done now?" He asks, tone a bit bored.

You give a single nod, your eyes locking with his. He removes his hand from your mouth, adjusting his body slightly as you're still perched on the panel. Despite the casualness of the situation, you can't help but notice the newfound proximity between the two of you. You study his expression, finding it far more relaxed than before.

"She told me you knew," You say, gaze never wavering.

Don’t do that, you think as you watch his forehead crease with evident concern. Your thoughts race as he tilts your face in his direction, a gesture that feels uncomfortably intimate — Don’t do that either — silently admonishing yourself for noticing it.

His eyes narrow, softly inhaling as he scans your face before ultimately pulling back. 

"Lyla, scan her," he commands, and you instinctively object. "What? Lyla, don't—"

"Scan complete," Lyla chimes in, casting you an apologetic virtual glance.

Miguel crosses his arms, and you feel a mix of indignation and frustration at the abrupt intrusion. "Diagnostic report," he demands, and you can't help but furrow your brows in irritation.

"And directly asking me wouldn't have sufficed?"

"You'd lie," He replies bluntly, reviewing Lyla's assessment. With a swift gesture, he amplifies the screen, sliding it over for you to see.

You don't bother looking at the report, already well aware of the issues plaguing you; The migraines, the weakening of your physical state, the occasional nose bleeds. Nothing about you was right after the glitch with the dimensional watch, and your condition only worsened with your increased use of abilities -- For him. 

"It stops now," He declares firmly. "I don't need your help."

You jump off the panel. "Now look who's lying," you accuse. "Please tell me you don't simply believe that I'm under the impression of just helping ease your grief," You look expectantly.

But he remains silent, and the lack of response only fuels your frustration, pushing you to let out a chortle of sarcastic laughter.

This time, it's you who catches him off guard. Without a second thought, you stride purposefully toward his computer panels, pulling back a drawer and forcefully slamming the object in your hand against his chest.

"This is why I'm here," Your gaze is stern. "To help deprive you of this addiction you have with this thing," You withdraw yourself from him, leaving the Rapture device in his hands.

You let out a deep exhale, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. "I'm just trying to help."

"We can't help anyone," He snaps. "You're at the brink of death, and I'm on the verge of losing any semblance of humanity within me."

"But we can try! We can always try," You reason with a sense of exasperation. "Isn't that purpose of this whole thing?" You assert, referencing the society he created.

Miguel's calculating gaze remains fixed on you, his chest heaving slightly as if he's internally struggling to contain his anger. He lifts his finger as if to say something but abruptly closes his eyes and turns away.

"Dejame."

His dismal aggravates you, making you refuse to let the conversation end. "No, you don't just get to stand there and tell me to leave when we're both at fault here."

He continues to walk past you, his shoulder bumping against yours as he approaches the exit, seemingly intent on walking away from the confrontation.

"Miguel!" You follow him. "I'm talking to you," You persist, undeterred in your pursuit. "Dammit, listen to me-"

Before you can fully grasp what's happening, you feel his firm grip on your shoulders, back forcefully slamming against the entrance frame. He effectively traps you in, and you find yourselves glaring at each other with such intensity. The moment hangs heavily between you, and it's clear that neither of you is willing to back down.

"Tu..." He growls out. "Tu me matas de rabia."

"Feelings mutual," You grit, eyes unyielding. 

"Fine." 

You expect him to pull away, to break the tension between you, but he doesn't. You both remain locked, neither willing to back down from your controlled fits of anger. And as you feel the air around you crackle with unresolved emotions, the silence between you grows heavy with anticipation.

But you're the one who leans forward, closing the distance between your lips and his. And before long, you feel his hands moving to grab you by your hips, the hunger in the kiss evident, with the sound of his soft growls escaping him as you nip at his lips for entrance.

It was all so contradicting, the way you both clung to each other, with a mixture of lingering animosity and newfound desire fueling the moment. Miguel couldn't comprehend why he reciprocated, why he hadn't let you go. But he couldn't deny the pleasure he felt from listening to your soft gasps.

But the sudden interruption of Lyla's voice breaks the spell, jolting you both back to reality. Instinctively, you push Miguel away, your mind racing to process what just happened as you catch your breath. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, his mouth closing in a resigned expression.

You want to explain, to find the right words to address what had impulsively occurred between the two, but Lyla interrupts again, drawing Miguel's attention. 

"Miguel," She calls out urgently, "requesting backup now."

Miguel acknowledges his AI, sending her away with a nod before looking at you. With a heavy sigh, he retreats, putting a silent end to whatever had transpired between you both.

The words Felicia had spoken earlier now echo in your mind. She had been right about one thing — you didn't fight it, and now you were screwed.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three |

[Translations]

Patience, patience

What's the matter love (Literal translation is king, but its a form of saying, love)

Leave

You fill me with rage

Tag list:

@digipaw2-0 @alexisabirdie @keenzinemugstudent @dirtydiavolo @saturnknows @judeslostfinger @joyhdh @myconglomerateromance @lady-necromancer @envyjmoney

[dilf-rights-activist]

Another Life: part 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gender neutral reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the founder and CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. All the money in the world can’t buy love, something that Miguel so desperately needs, and the one thing that he could never afford. Or, the one where Miguel gets dumped by his freeloader partner and can only find solace in you, a down on your luck student with sweet drinks and an even sweeter smile.

Word count: 2k

Content: eventual sugar daddy AU, slow burn, coffee shop/bars, no use of (y/n), descriptions of financial hardship, Miguel is tired and is going through a break up (aw)

AO3 part 2 part 3 part 4

Miguel sighed as he watched the car of yet another failed relationship leave his property. He took a moment to wish his former lover well before closing the door, mechanical lock whirring quietly as it slid into place. The large man scrubbed a hand over his face before looking at the large boxes that littered his home, there was still a lot of unpacking to be done. He recently moved to a lavish penthouse in the Upper East Side to be closer to his office. He decided to indulge himself by going on a couple of dates with a number of (whom he formerly thought were) nice people. He thought it would have been different after his move, but every relationship he entered ended the exact same way. Being the CEO of a prolific tech company came with a number of risks, but it also came with a lot of money.

He sighed. A lot of money.

It was the same thing time after time, Miguel would meet an amazing person and spoil them rotten with anything they wanted; clothes, jewels, food, you name it. One week turned into two, into three, into months, enraptured in an unrequited embrace, only for him to find out that they were only using him for his wealth. He allowed himself to be manipulated by the charming smiles and whispers of his lovers, wanting so badly to believe that they deserved everything in the world. Desperate for anything to assuage the dark void that was slowly burrowing its way into his chest.

He needed a drink.

---

A sigh escaped your lips as you approached the end of your shift. It had been busy today at the bar; between running around serving tables and making drinks at the bar you barely had time to think. You were bussing one of the last remaining tables, figuring you’d get an early start on cleaning for the night. You picked up an empty glass, smiling to yourself; there were only 30 minutes left until closing, no customers left, and you could already hear your bed calling your name. You hummed softly, nothing could spoil your mood now.

“Hello. Table for one, please.” a quiet man said as he walked into the bar.

The glass in your hand almost shattered with the sheer force of your frustration alone.

A tall brunette man shuffled through the door of your workplace, ducking slightly as he did so. His broad frame filled out the entryway in its entirety, waiting politely. He glanced around the dim space, just now starting to notice the sheer lack of patrons and music.

“Shit, are you closed? I can go somewhere else,”

You checked your watch, 29 minutes to go.

Goddamnit.

“No, please. Come in,” You said in your best customer service voice, hoping you didn’t sound as tired as you felt. You were half hoping that the man would reject your invitation and walk out the door, never to be seen again.

He did not.

The man nodded and slowly made his way to sit at the bar,the poor stool squeaked dangerously under his weight.

“What can I get started for you, sir?” you wore an easy smile, looking to get this guy out as soon as possible.

He nodded as he settled into his seat. “What would you recommend?”

“That depends, how much are you hurting?” You took a brief moment to look at the brunette before glossing over the wide array of bottles you kept behind the bar.

“I’m not-“

“You walked in to drink at a random bar at 11:30 pm on a Tuesday. Men like you don’t do that unless they’re hurting.” You set down a bottle of whiskey onto the bar and threw him a crooked smile.

Large shoulders slumped as the man grimaced. “That obvious?”

“Just a little,” You held a glass up to the light to inspect it for spots before putting it on a napkin in front of the brunette before you. You uncapped the whiskey with ease and poured the amber liquid into the crystal glass, making sure to give the man a little extra for his troubles. “Wanna talk about it?” you asked, still working on his drink.

He chuckled softly, “What’s to tell? I just got dumped.”

You winced as you dropped a couple of ice cubes into his glass. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”

He held up a large hand. “Don’t be. It would have never worked out anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” you raised an eyebrow while peeling an orange “Why’s that?”

“That’s just how it is with me.” he said softly. You stopped working to look at him properly. His eyes were obscured by the shadows cast by the harsh contours of his face, but even in the dim light of the bar you could tell that they were a deep shade of crimson. His eyes held so much sadness in them, seeming to be permanently downcast.

Miguel was never one to talk about his issues, much less to a stranger, but tonight was different. He would allow himself to wallow just this once, to indulge in the cliché that is the sweet pity of a kind bartender.

“Y’know how it is. Get someone, and they’re really great. Until they aren’t.” he gave a half hearted laugh. “People just use me for...entertainment.”

You looked up at him, in awe at just how small the man managed to look at that moment. You garnished his drink with a curled orange peel and set it down on the bar. “Well, mister…”

“O’Hara.” he said. “Miguel O’Hara.”

“Well, Mister O’Hara, if I may be so bold. Every person who’s ever used you is an absolute shit bag and they don’t deserve your kindness. You’re on your way to bigger and better things and they’ll be sorry.” you smiled as you pushed his drink forward. “Old Fashioned.”

Miguel’s eyes fell from your smiling face to the golden drink in front of him. He didn’t typically drink an Old Fashioned, always thought they were too sweet.

“Thanks.” he smiled at you, the glass looked comically small in his large hands as he gingerly took a sip. Thick brows raised and he hummed softly, pleasantly surprised by the complexity of the complimenting flavors.

“Not bad.” He murmured into his glass before gently rolling it in between his palms. “What’s your name?”

“You’re gonna have to take me out if you wanna find that out, big guy.” You winked at him and he abruptly stopped fiddling with his glass, eyes widening comically.

“I-”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed at his reaction and told him your name. He went silent at the sound of it and repeated it to himself.

“What a nice name.” Miguel smiled while working on his drink.

“Thanks, it’s the only one I got.” you flashed him a grin and leaned on the bar. You were actually starting to enjoy his company, it’s a shame that he’d have to leave in a couple of minutes.

Before long Miguel finished his drink and thanked you for your service. He left a generous tip before saying one last goodbye over his shoulder. You waved him off before locking the door behind him, paying little mind to the strange feeling in your chest.

---

You flinched as your alarm clock rang on your bedside table. You turned your stiff neck to squint at the time; 5:45 am, you couldn't afford to press snooze again. You sighed heavily before turning the alarm off, turning to stare up at your cracking ceiling. Did you really need this job? Really and truly? What if you could just get 5 more minutes of sleep…

You glance at the clock again. 5:47. Now you really couldn't afford to stay in bed. You swung your legs over the side of the mattress, bristling slightly when your socked feet touched the cold ground. You went to the bathroom and took a brief moment to observe your reflection in the mirror, noting how the dark circles under your eyes made you look like a deranged racoon. Good. You thought, squeezing out some toothpaste. Maybe customers will be too scared to bother me today. After getting dressed you jogged down the stairs to get to your second job, a quaint cafe nestled in New York City’s East Village. You braced yourself during your commute, you would be facing the morning rush of caffeine starved corporate zombies that came in every weekday. You sighed, blowing air into your cold hands to warm them up a little.

“Hopefully they'll tip a little more this time” you thought wistfully as you walked into the subway station.

---

You let yourself in through the alleyway entrance of the cafe, sighing as you smelled baking bread.

“You’re late!” your boss half yelled from behind the counter. You shot him a wry smile and shrugged as you clocked in.

“Only by-” you glanced at your phone, “ten minutes!” you winced, maybe you should have jogged those last couple of blocks.

Peter B. Parker pouted at you and leaned against the clear dessert display case. “Whatever! Just help me prep, I have a feeling the rush is gonna be real bad.” You hanged your coat in the back hallway and winced, you really did feel bad about being late. Peter ran the cafe with his Aunt May, a fierce, kind woman who never hesitated to give you free desserts whenever you saw her.

You tore open a bag of coffee beans and grimaced, it was midterm season at the local universities, which meant that sleep deprived student after sleep deprived student would come in to get their hourly dose of caffeine. You bit your lip nervously as you thought about that huge essay you had yet to start for your own classes. You poured the beans into the espresso machine, half mindedly listening to the sounds as they filled up the small container.

You couldn’t go to school if you didn’t work, and you couldn’t work if you had to study! You were pulled out of your thoughts as you realized that you were now spilling coffee beans all over the bar. You swore quietly, working frantically to fix your mistake.

“You okay?” Peter asked from where he was stuffing napkins into a dispenser. You carefully scooped the remaining coffee beans into your hand and threw them away in a nearby compost bin.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Nice! Look alive, sunshine! We’re opening in 10.”

---

Miguel’s large hand rubbed at his tired eyes on his morning commute to the temporary office he’d be inhabiting until the construction on his new building was finished. He swallowed and looked at his phone, blinking at the time.

“6:30?” he muttered to himself, slowing his brisk walk to a slow stride. He didn't have to be at the office for another thirty minutes. Miguel adjusted the scarf on his neck as a movement caught his eye, he turned his head to see a tired looking man flip over a sign in the window of a nearby building to read “OPEN” in cute cursive letters. They made brief eye contact and the man in the window smiled and waved at him.

Miguel smiled and raised a hand in greeting, dark eyes looking up to read Cafe May above the window. Coffee, huh? He smiled lightly to himself, he supposed he could grab a couple of drinks for him and his employees, he did have the time to spare after all.

Miguel was just about to make a detour into the cute coffee shop he had discovered before his phone rang obnoxiously in his hand. Furrowing his brows, he looked down at the caller ID: Jessica Drew.

Shit.

Jessica wouldn’t call him if she didn’t have a reason for it. Miguel closed his eyes and sighed, he just wanted a quiet morning with coffee! Clearing his throat, he braced himself as he accepted the call.

“Hi, Jess.”

“Good morning, Miguel. Where are you?”

The brunette grimaced, right to the point. “East Village. Was there something you needed?” He heard the ruffling of papers and a small hum on the other line.

“Yeah. Tony Stark wants to hop on a video call within the hour to update you on the research he’s been running for the Arc Reactor.”

Large shoulders slumped as Miguel let out a small sigh. “Within the hour, huh?” He glanced at the warm cafe forlornly before making his way down the street towards the office.

“I’m on my way.”

Notes: Please do not talk to me about NYC geography, i looked at a map and nothing is consistent in my story lmao. I know Miguel is pretty OOC in this. He (at least in atsv) is not this kind, patient, or gentle. But he is sad! And that’s what they both have in common :) I think he was a geneticist in the comics, so he’d more than likely be running a lab or a bio tech company but…hey. I’ve released the second chapter to this story, but am unsure if I will continue, I guess it depends on how these first two parts are received. Thank you for reading, please lemme know what you think (if you want)