#iminlovewithmiguelohara

[whisk3ysugar]

Okay, so I was holding off on posting this because it's wrecking my nerves. And it's driving me insane at the same time. I'm a perfectionist so that's cute. (No it's not.) But here's my first series/chapter/prologue/thing... <3

Prologue Summary: An Alchemax lab worker was successful on her own. Normal. Same routine every day. No straying from the usual path. Not until her own fear became apart of her. Not until she met him. The liberator. Protector. The leader. Miguel O’Hara.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence (Soon), Mentions of Blood, No NSFW (Yet?), Terrible grammar errors (Probably), First post.

A/N: Like I stated before, this is my first writing piece on Tumblr. I also haven’t written in general for a WHILE.. So pls excuse the cute little imperfections <3 (I hope I can write chapters for this soon too!!!)

What exactly made you deserve landing in such a foreign.. and dangerous.. overall mysterious place?

It’s not like you remembered what even happened.

All you could remember now, was waking up on the cold floor below you. Head aching. What? Something was leaking from your head. Warm liquid made its way down your forehead as you tried to piece together your fuzzy thoughts. Where were you? Back at home? Surely this wasn’t your apartment in Brooklyn. But you couldn’t figure it out. Especially when you were fighting the feeling of unconsciousness. You had to piece together what was happening before you might inevitably black out.

…Recall the events. Remember.

You were at home. Long day of work put you in a vulnerable state. Alchemax scientists weren’t the easiest to work with especially when all you seemed to do was mess up. In their eyes. You had been designing a new function for the machine your boss had scrapped. It was a perfect base for your new project. But you’re getting off track. Finished up work. Left your keyboard in your lab coat pocket so you had to return. Enter the office room. Silence. Dark. Go in, grab the card, get out. Easy. Except it wasn’t.

You went in quickly. Taking your usual route to your cubicle helped you arrive faster. You grabbed your card. You made it home? Wait. No, that’s not right. Why couldn’t you remember? Why was your brain so damn hazy right now??

Backtrack. You went into the office and grabbed your keycard. Then you locked up the room. Habit. You went down the hall and.. And?

That’s right.

You went through the shortcut.

The incredibly dangerous shortcut that your boss happened to mention a couple HUNDRED times not to take. But it was just a door and a lab.. No big deal. It was such a huge space anyways. There was a big machine in the middle. Branded with your company’s logo. You took a look at it. It was huge. Just a few more steps closer and you were able to see every intricate detail. The only detail you missed was a white spider making its way up the web it must’ve spent hours threading and making.

You could make out every wire in the machine. But you couldn’t make out the spider crawling up your sleeve. That is.. until it sunk its fangs into you.

A loud shriek echoed through the lab walls as you failed your hand around in the air. It stung. And it didn’t help your already raging fear of spiders. You flung the light colored spider off and rubbed the harsh bite mark before making your way the hell out of that lab.

♡♥︎

After closing up the rest of the office, you made your way out of the facility and into the noisy streets.

Except.. it wasn’t noisy.

What? At this time of day, the streets were booming with noise.. Well, normally they were. So you excused the fact that it was quiet and made your way back to your apartment.

The moment you opened your door you got hit with a wave of drowsiness. How? You kept asking yourself these questions but you couldn’t even answer them. And within the next 10 seconds.. you couldn’t seem to comprehend what was happening.

It started with a loud ringing which contrasted the quiet you were experiencing a few moments before. Then came the nausea. Lastly.. your graceful fall straight to the floor.

That was it.

That’s all you remembered.

So how did you get here? On this rough concrete floor.. Head throbbing. Body shaking. Unable to remember any moments after your fall.

Well as if the world was just listening to your thoughts.. everything was answered with a flick of your wrist and a terrible thrust forward.

Web.

No. No, no, no, no.. NO. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was just in those comics you spent too much time reading. Only in the action movies. It was all fake. Couldn’t be real. No.. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. Would explain the headache you were enduring currently. But..

How could you possibly explain the blinding lights and colors of such an ethereal realm? How could you explain all those different costumes.. all with that same stupid emblem you saw on TV when the news reporters tried to degrade the so-called heroes that protected your city. How could you even begin to try to process those specific dark colors that seemed to contrast all others.. It was a blur. Messy shades that put together a stranger right in front of you. None of your thoughts or questions could be answered.

Not when your head was throbbing and you could barely think.

Not when you were summoned to a new land.. Or rather, a new world?

Not when beast in the form of man had made its way toward you.. and all you could do was stare.

Not when your life had stopped and you were being pulled into your new one.

Not when you were met with the devil himself.

Miguel O’Hara.

♡♥︎

[sadnessandspiderman]

im back

[whisk3ysugar]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, Feral!Miguel x Reader

Warnings: Smut without much of a plot!! Mentions of blood..

Word Count: 1786 (I think)

A/N: I saw @smotheredinlighterfluid post about this and I just had to try to write it out.. Um.. Its pretty bad but I TRIED. I TRIED... Also this is not a continuation to my last post/series/thing!

It was well known that Miguel O’Hara was a failed experiment. Or one of the sorts. However, he didn’t like to elaborate on what that meant exactly. Miguel rarely entrusted others with his own secrets. Much less people who depended on him to protect them. It wasn’t usual for Miguel to go around explaining how or why he had the powers he did, and he very much despised the idea of others gossiping about what he was or what his background was. He didn’t actually trust anyone. Not even the people he was supposedly closest to. Not even you.

You had been working on Miguel’s team of elite protectors for a few years now. But did that really mean anything? Did that actually make you any more valuable or trustworthy to him than it did anyone else? In your head, the answer was a very clear no. But that didn’t stop you from striving to be his favorite.

Sometimes you swore you hated him. Sometimes you made yourself believe he actually saw you. As a friend maybe. A partner? No, not that type. Just an acquaintance. Hopefully. But it wasn’t really the truth. You were just a weapon to him. An object. But did knowing that really change your view on him anyways? No. You still admired him as if he were a god. As if he were life itself. It was unfair really. Him not caring about you at all. You caring entirely about him. Years together, working, protecting eachother, and yet you still weren’t seen by him.

Well, that’s what you thought. None of it was really ever clear. Did he actually hate your guts? Did he really not care? You didn’t actually know. And to be honest.. Neither did he. He didn’t really see you as just another worker. Another slave to him. Another person who was there at his beck and call. No. You were closer than that. But he didn’t need to express that. He would never allow himself to indulge in such fantasies. Never.

So why was it all crumbling down withing seconds? Why was he letting loose so easily? Why the hell was he actually letting himself come undone? It wasn’t like that, no, not at all. He would never purposely let himself ease his needs. It wasn’t ever about him. His line of work did not allow any space for that.

This wasn’t a typical thing. Absolutely not. He was different. There was something entirely different about his whole.. persona. He wasn’t as calm and collected as he’d normally be. The side of him that was put together must’ve threw itself out the window because why the hell else would he be so aggravated when heading to work. It wasn’t like he did anything differently lately. His routine was perfectly put together for every single day of his life. He never broke the order. Except for today.

His fists were clenched together tightly as he headed into his office. He needed to get work done. Protect people. Do his god damn job. Everyone needed him. Or that’s what he liked to tell himself at least. When his mind wandered.

“Good morning, Miguel”

He didn’t even need to turn to see who was speaking to him. Every morning was the same. You’d always greet him quietly while heading to your side of the office. He would rather die than admit it, but he enjoyed seeing you everyday, and hearing your voice call his name. Today was no different. That’s what he tried to convince himself. But it was different.

His eyes wandered. Wandered to you. Sat at a far desk, monitoring what you needed to, writing reports, doing your job. Like he should be doing. That didn’t matter though. His mind was swirling with thoughts. Thoughts like ‘What the hell is happening to me?’ or ‘Why is this happening?’ He didn’t really need that question answered. He knew why these things were happening to him.

It wasn’t regular for his ‘urges’, (to put it lightly), to come to him. Failed experiments do come with side-effects after all. Why would he be any different? Usually he’d take some time to himself to relax. To wear off the unavoidable effects. But not today. It hit him like whiplash today. And he’d have to endure the feeling of heat building in his core. Fueling his whole body. Taking absolutely everything in him to hold himself back.

How could he though? How could he hold back when you fluttered your eyelashes in such a sultry manner. Were you doing it on purpose? Were you staring at him like that because you knew what was happening to him? No, of course not. He wouldn’t expose himself like that so easily.

“Is something wrong, Miguel?”

“No.”

“You’re sweating..”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Do you want me to turn on the air conditioning?”

You spoke as you made your way out of your chair and over to his desk where the AC just so happened to be.

It wasn’t like you meant for it all to happen. You didn’t mean to brush your thigh against his leg. You didn’t mean to look at him the way you did. But you couldn’t hide it when he was so close and just emanating ferocity.

You didn’t mean to end up shoved onto his desk. Fighting to escape the binds of your own clothing.

But you did.

He was fed up with everything. He needed release. Release of his pent up frustrations.. Release of his emotions. Release of everything. So he would have to use you. Not that you minded. He had practically swept you off your feet when he grabbed at your thighs and plopped you on the desk. You actually quite enjoyed the feeling of his claws digging through your clothing and into your plush skin. The feeling of blood trailing down from the tiny cuts forced you to squeeze your thighs together. And as quick as he left the marks, he lapped up the wounds to ease the pain.

He was like a feral animal. Ripping your clothes off and feeling you up anywhere and everywhere. He needed to feel every part of your body. Every crease, crevice, nook, and cranny. His lips had to trail and ghost over your bare skin. He had to sink his fangs into your skin. He couldn’t hold him back. No one could.

It was all you could ever even dream of. All those thoughts you had conjured up in your dirty mind. All of it was unraveling in this moment. His hand gripping oh-so-tightly on your hips as he ground himself into your thigh. His erection only growing as he tasted your delicious skin on his rough tongue. You tasted like heaven to him, and he couldn’t pull himself away. He didn’t care if someone walked in. He couldn’t bring himself to give a single fuck. You were all he needed right now.

“Need to feel you. Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, amor.”

And with that, he fell to his knees. As he moved down, he eyed your gorgeous body. So tough. So strong. He kissed at your thighs and nibbled at the inner parts. Surely leaving bite marks and littered hickeys all over.

His glove was slipped off gently. Contrasting the intensity of how he was stuffing his thick fingers into your entrance now. He simply needed to prep you before you’d take him. It wasn’t like he was entirely pent up. He had to make sure you could take all of him without stopping. Make sure you could enjoy what he was about to enjoy.

He worked his fingers in and out of your slick entrance. The gathered slick helping him move his fingers deeper Your moans and whimpers only fueling his desire. But there really was only so much he could take.

He had to slip out his fingers before he’d wrap his messy hand around his thick length. He was painfully hard, and he direly needed to be deep inside you. So he lined himself up with the slick entrance before him.

“Please, Miguel. Please, need you so bad.”

“I know.”

He exhaled as he bottomed out inside you. His entire length slipping in slowly. He couldn’t contain the growls that escaped his mouth. Instead of grabbing at the desk and clawing at papers, he decided to wrap his arms around your thighs and lifting you up so he could shove himself even deeper. If that was even possible.

He didn’t need permission to start thrusting. He just did His entire cock practically scraped at your walls and his nails dug deep as he paced himself. This wasn’t about you, unfortunately. He had to relieve himself of everything that had piled up on him. He had to let go of that side of him which he had hidden and locked away. He had to reveal a side of him to you which he’d never reveal to anyone else. In moments like these when he’s buried deep inside your core, literally pulsating at the feeling of your walls clenching down on him, he reveals himself to you. He indulges in those desires which he’s never indulged in. He comes undone.

It only takes a couple more rough thrusts for him to starts slowing down. You, a panting mess under him, can barely hold on any longer.

“Miguel.. please let me cum. Please..”

“...”

“Please..”

“Cum.”

He snakes a thick hand down to rub at your core. His thrusts faltering and coming to a slow. You clench and wrap around him as you throw your head back. Your wave hitting you so quickly you almost get whiplash. But that doesn’t stop him. He continues his deep thrusts, not letting up with his pace. He’s finally able to let go Finally able to have you to himself.

He thrusts deeply then pulls out to release on your tummy. He can’t afford any.. side effects. But he can allow himself to give you a taste.

It almost made him flush at the way you jumped at the opportunity to clean him up. The mess he left on your stomach quickly forgotten as you pressed your lips against his softening cock. The way he looked down at you with heavy lids gave away everything it needed to.

“Thank you, amor.”

He spoke softly as you cleaned up the mess you left behind. You smiled softly and leaned up to press a kiss to his stomach.

“What happened to you?”

“Side effect of being a failed experiment.”

“I love it.”

“You’re the only one.”

xx