#miguel o'hara fic recs

[runa-falls]

MIGUEL smut recs ?? 🙏🏻

NONNIE im so sorry i took so long to answer you! i deadass missed this ask!! ok so here are some mig smut recs:

use me (billionaire!miguel o'hara x secretary!reader) - @inklore

halo (miguel x ai!reader) - @missdictatorme

(dub con) monster - @writefightandflightclub

bubble baths (soft bf!miguel) - ME 😤 HAHAHA (self promo bc it got flagged so fast)

touch-a, touch-a, touch me - @dimepdf

no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

the death of peace of mind - @tusks-and-claws

you think your fearless leader needs help relaxing, but another door is opened entirely

rendezvous (scientist!miguel) - @campingwiththecharmings

PWP in which you and Miguel get each other off in a storage closet

stitches and claws - @astroboots

you find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel’s wounds

surrender - @romanarose

miguel needs help letting go

(non con) always yours, never mine - @melodygatesauthor

in every universe there's a version of you that exists...when I find you, I will have you, I'll make you love me, and I will never lose you again.

[love-anddeepression]

i have the worst sore throat ive ever had and i need miguel fluff can you please help me im begging you

[misspascalpunk]

oh, an enemies to lovers in college? now that's what i'm talkin' 'bout 😌👌

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

ao3

series | next chapter

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝…𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞?

You’re running late.

But then again…is there ever a day when you’re not running late?

It’s hard to differentiate whether it’s due to the fact that you left all your pre-reading till the last minute or if your alarm forgot to go off or if it was due to you oversleeping for an additional thirty minutes because your roommate had dragged you out last night for the fourth freshers party of the week.

Either way, you’re running late. Your bag is frantically packed with notebooks and random essentials, your laptop is less than half-charged and your socks are mismatched. It’s not the best start that you had imagined for your first week of lectures but as you glance at digits in the corner of your phone, you figure that you don’t even have the time to complain.

The campus is still relatively new to you, and also fucking huge. Groups of people swarm around like insects, trying to find their way around to their own lecture. Glancing down at the map app currently open on your phone, a frown reaches your brows.

It seems like you’re still so far away from the humanities block which is on the other side of campus.

You scroll down, pausing your steps to look for another route. If only there was….

‘Want a shortcut? Press here.’

“Yes fucking please.” you mutter to yourself, clicking the bold button absentmindedly.

—

The muffled sound of a robotic voice announcing your destination perks up your mood entirely as you reach the lecture doors of 202. You made it with just about five minutes to spare and you’ve never felt prouder, not even during all those times when you’ve forgotten to study for exams but had luckily gotten away with pretty decent grades.

Entering the hall, you find most seats are taken, nearly all the rows are unavailable. Scanning around desperately, you find a seat near the back next to a guy mindlessly scrolling on his phone. Hastily, you walk to your desired seat before the rest of the row fills up, and you find that as soon as you have taken your seat, there’s no spare seats left at all.

Taking a deep breath, your anxiety now sits comfortably in the pit of your stomach.

This is how college was supposed to go.

Prepared, calm and on time. You’re so relaxed right now that you’re not even slightly bothered about the percentage of your laptop when you slide it open in front of you, knowing that you have your notebooks in your bag if needed. You take a quick sip of water before the lecture begins and soon all conversations in the room seem to die away slowly.

Those unlucky enough to have found a seat, have to settle with sitting on the steps of the lecture hall. A silent sigh of relief that you are not a part of that majority runs through your body. God, you forget that literature was so oversubscribed.

A hushed silence takes over the room and a steady grin creeps at the corner of your lips as you wait for the professor to start.

“Good morning all, it is nice to see you all bright and early for the first genetics lecture of the year. I know some of you had to clear up clashes with microbiology this morning which may be the reason why we are so oversubscribed today, but we’ll make do, there’s plenty of room for everyone.”

Remember that eager, excited smile that you just had a few moments ago? Yeah, well it just died and here was the funeral. You blink in confusion as the words of the lecture settles into your brain.

Genetics? Microbiology? What the fuck was this professor talking about?

The lecturer drones on at the front of the hall, her voice echoing. “For those of you who don't know already, I'm professor Dr. Michaleson and I’ll be your genetics lecturer for the remainder of the year.”

Oh no. Oh fuck no. Oh hell no.

You look around, scanning the wide room to already see people begin to type away at their laptops. No one else in the room seems to be as confused as you are right now and it’s concerning. Reaching into your coat pocket, you open up your maps app checking your location.

Shit.

You’ve found yourself in the general medical sciences block, not arts and humanities. Zooming in further you find that the humanities block is direct from the building that you’re in right now.

If there was a moment for you to have a breakdown, it would be right now. All of your panicking and frantic packing that you had gone through this morning has now gone completely to waste because you’re not even in the right fucking lecture hall.

You turn towards the person on your left but notice that they’re rapidly typing away as the lecturer proceeds to run over the future modules for the course. Not wanting to bother her, you decide to glance towards your right, to the guy who was once mindlessly scrolling on his phone who has now replaced it with his very own laptop but…he’s not typing away yet.

So you take your chances.

“Hey.” you whisper, trying to keep your panic out of your voice. You lean over a little so that he can hear you.

The man frowns a little, looking towards you.

“What?” His tone is soft like yours, quiet so as not to disrupt other people but you can’t help but notice the annoyed intonation in his voice.

“What lecture are we in right now?” you subtly prompt, quickly noticing the crease between the eyebrows of the stranger sitting next to you. His nose curves up in distaste as if you’ve just asked him whether he thinks the earth is round or flat.

“Please, just answer my question.” you plead gently, reading his expression.

You know he probably takes you for an idiot right now but you just need confirmation so that,

One: You hadn’t just misheard and this was definitely a genetics lecture

And two: If it was a genetic lecture this officially gives your body the right to go into full panic mode right now.

The guy lets out a light sigh before answering, “We’re in genetics right now.”

“Fuck!”

A few heads in the row in front of your glance back at the sound and automatically your cheeks burn up out of embarrassment.

“Why are you asking?” the man sitting beside you questions.

You hesitate in giving your answer, embarrassed that you had messed up one of the most basic rules of things not to do at university. Now it’s your turn to let out a beaten down sigh.

“I–”

“You’re in the wrong lecture, aren’t you?” the stranger estimates. Clearly based on your mixed expression of disappointment and panic.

You nod silently, rubbing your hands across your face. Internally, you wished that you could go back in time. Back to before you had entered this stupid lecture room, double checking the location or at least had the chance run out before the lecture had started.

“What are you supposed to be in?”

“English Literature.”

The man sitting beside you stifles a laugh and again, a number of heads back to look at the two of you in frustration. He attempts to cover it up with a cough and you notice the way that his cheeks slowly turn to a dusty shade of pink.

“Por dios, what are you doing here?” he whispers. And again you don’t miss the tone of irritation in his voice.

“I–I think I got lost.” you stammer quietly, looking down at your phone. “I’m supposed to be here.” you point at a spot on your phone as you show him. “But I got it messed up.”

“It’s across from this building?”

You nod begrudgingly, before shutting off your phone and laying your head down on the table in surrender.

You stay down for a minute before perking back up. The lecturer is still droning on about god knows what and the man beside you begins to take notes.

Leaning over, you whisper another question.

“How long is this lecture?”

“Two hours.”

Yep, you were screwed.

And it wasn’t like you could get up and leave. Well, you could, but that would mean drawing all the attention from half of the people in the room, disrupting them and causing your entire row to stand up so that you could leave. You think that you’d rather die than be that person.

The man beside you says nothing more, choosing to ignore you and your situation as he types away along with the rest of the people in the hall.

Looks like you have no choice but to buckle yourself in for this ride.

—

Two hours later, you find yourself on level 12 of the world’s hardest game, still without any new literature knowledge but now have a deep insight into what the genetics modules will look like for the next three years as well as having a deep insightful knowledge about prokaryotic and eukaryotic organisms.

That’ll be some useful trivia some day at least.

You sit back watching everyone else pack away. The man beside you glances towards you briefly, he’s packed away too, now waiting for the people in your row to start filing out.

“Thinking about drastically changing your degree to biological sciences?” he asks, a smirk on his face.

You snort as you pack away your laptop, which surprisingly managed to survive the whole lecture.

“I fucking wish.”

“How about next time you check that you’re actually in the right block before stepping into a lecture hall?”

You barely know this man and yet you can feel his judgment, not just now but throughout the whole lecture you’ve felt his continuous side-eye as you died for the 400th time in your game.

“Will do.” you note, hoping to cut this conversation short. “Looks like I’ve got a literature lecture to catch up on.” you mumble to yourself as you begin to walk away, filing out of your row and heading to the doors.

/

“You what? Ended up at the wrong lecture hall?!”

Burying your head onto your arms, you groan aloud as a non-committal response. Your college roommate and new friend, Lyla, laughs out loud which unfortunately attracts eyes from around the cafe.

You groan, this being the second time that your face has burnt up this morning. “Please don’t make my misery any louder ly’ ”

She wipes at the corner of her eyes, adjusting her glasses. “I'm sorry, m’sorry.” She chokes, spluttering her hot chocolate. “But could you go through exactly what it was that you did again?”

You perk up your head on the table, keeping your eyelids shut. A mumble escapes from your lips.

Lyla cups her ears, teasing you unabashedly. “What was that?”

“Iendedupinageneticslecture.”

“What?”

“I ended up in a genetics lecture!”

And if you thought that her first laugh had been loud enough for the tables near you to hear, her second laugh practically caused the entire cafe to turn their eyes on you.

“This is all your fault by the way.” You pick up your cup of hot coffee and as if your day couldn’t get any worse, you’ve managed to burn your tongue and now you wonder whether there’s any point whatsoever in living on this sadistic earth.

Lyla points at herself, “Me? What did I do?!”

If you–” you lower your voice, cautious of multiple eyes staring at your table. “If you didn’t drag me out last night then maybe I wouldn’t have been so sleep deprived that I could have actually gotten to my proper lecture.”

Lyla snorts, waving her hands around. “Oh, please! Didn’t I get you that number off that guy you liked? Matt, was it?”

“Tom.”

“Right, whatever.” she says, picking up her cup and dipping her tongue into the generous amount of whipped cream and marshmallows that cover her hot chocolate. You stare at your own order in distaste, deeply wishing that you had gotten one too.

/

The next two weeks following your god awful mishap, you were fine.

From now on you and Lyla had a pact.

No more nights out.

Only up until the halloween season.

With your reading classes and her technology lectures, the two of you found each other up to your necks in assignments and essays along with being forced to help out with Lyla’s little coding club maintenance.

Thankfully you’ve managed to maintain some sort of routine, attending most – if not all – of your lectures both on time and double checking that you were in the right ones. You’ve made a few friends here or there at social events and finally found a job as a barista at the same cafe where Lyla gets her favorite hot chocolate from – and you must admit that they are pretty great.

All in all, college is going pretty great.

You think.

It’s going well in terms that you’ve managed to dodge every single phone call from your mom ever since you got here. Weekly, you’ve been coming up with good excuses and you don’t think that she’s caught on. Yet.

It was something that you had expected to happen once you made the decision to move away, I mean it was only fair, her only child leaving the bird’s nest, what else is she supposed to do?

You did feel guilty, of course you did. You hate lying to your mom but having her call every five minutes is not the reputation that you want to set up for yourself.

You’ll call her at the end of the week.

You swear on it.

- ‘Sorry, I’m in the library right now mom, I’ll call you back later okay? Love you <3’

Sent: 5:34pm

Setting your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’, you place it next to your laptop, your playlist resuming through your headphones.

Another thing that you were also proud of yourself, was getting in regular study periods in preparation for midterms. Your old self would have been procrastinating right up until the night before the exam but now? You’ve matured. You’ve changed your ways for the better and by getting in some pre-reading of essays and books, you know that you’ll be thanking your future self in the long run if you keep up this mindset.

And this mindset is a great mindset…as long as you don’t get distracted.

/

You lasted ten minutes.

You had barely gotten through the second page before your attention was taken somewhere else and by somewhere else you mean somebody else. And this particular somebody reminds you of a moment that you are trying so hard to forget. Which is impossible to do when he had just so coincidentally pulled up a chair next to you.

It was him. The guy who you sat next to in the one lecture that we don’t talk about for certain implicit reasons.

On recognising his face, you hope that he doesn’t recognise you. He pulls up a chair beside you, not truly noticing you are until he glances up. You can already sense what he’s about to say. Taking off your headphones you go to speak but he suddenly cuts you off.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t mistake the janitor’s closet for the library then.”

“Oh, you’re funny.” you deadpan.

“I try to be.” he quips, the corners of his lips tilting upright.

Now that your body is not in fight or flight mode, you get a chance to take in this stranger. He’s…attractive. Conventionally. Tall. Awkwardly tall. Looks like one of those gym junkies or you guess that he actually is one based on those muscles on him. And those model cheekbones and naturally tanned skin and bushy eyebrows and soft lips–

“Do I have something on my face or are you just eyeballing me?”

“Neither.” you say, a little too quick for your judgment.

“There’s no shame in admitting the latter.” He prompts, a playful tone in his voice.

“You’re a little bit cocky don’t you think?”

This stranger leans back into his chair a little, raising a brow before dismissing your statement.

“I would disagree.”

“Of course you would, you’re a STEM student.”

The stranger huffs, glancing at you up and down. “At least I’m guaranteed a job as soon as I’m out of here.” He remarks, rummaging through his bag. “Good luck in getting out of your student debt with–” he squints over to one of the closed novels by your side. “Whatever book that you have over there.”

“You mean pride and prejudice?”

He simply shrugs, choosing to ignore you as he pulls out a huge textbook and his laptop.

Your eyes glimpse the front cover, reading ‘Biological Sciences.’ Your face turns to distaste at the thought of having to read that through your own free will.

“Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” you ask, trying to maintain a friendly unbiased tone.

“Never have and never will.”

“You’re missing out.”

“On what?” he scoffs, flicking a page of his massive textbook. It hurts your brain to even think about how much that would even cost. “A bunch of rich upper class Englishmen complain about their problems for a whole 300 pages?”

“Firstly,” you note, slightly offended. “That’s not what happens. Secondly, it’s 400 pages but it’s debatable depending on what version you buy. But when you suddenly get a gun cocked to your head with someone asking you to quote the first line from Pride and Prejudice one day, you’ll be regretting this conversation.”

“I highly doubt that’s even a probable situation.”

“There’s always a few anomalies lying around.” You shrug absentmindedly, flicking through your own novel which you had to complete reading for this week.

“Rarely.”

“But often enough to catch you off-guard.”

This…stranger lets out a sigh heavily through his nose, a sign of which you know means ‘please shut the fuck up.’ He ignores you for the nth time, eyes slightly squinting as he scrolls down, closely reading an article.

That’s it. You’ve lost your concentration. He’s ruined your mood and your mindset.

You begin to pack away, huffing as you place your novel in your bag. You’ll have to get started when you get home it seems.

“Don’t let me spoil your 19th century fun.” he murmurs, scrolling further down on the article.

“I’m going somewhere else, so that I won’t be bothered with your stupid microbiology shit.”

The man huffs, barely acknowledging you as you stand. “Good luck finding another free spot because this place is packed.”

“I’m heading home actually.” you quip, zipping up your bag after placing all your materials.

“Make sure that you don’t accidentally end up in someone else’s dorm–”

“Hilarious.”

You walk away before he can poke another joke at you. Once again, mocking you and you barely know his first name.

You kinda hope you never see him again. Partly because he’s an annoying STEM student but mostly because he reminds you of the excruciating pain that you went through by sitting in a genetics lecture for two hours without a single break.

Key word: kinda.

Reblogs are much appreciated!

let me know / send an ask if you would like to be tagged!

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[harrie-fic-center]

avengers

bucky barnes [2]

clint barton

druig

hobie brown

loki laufeyson [2]

marc spector

matt murdock

miguel o'hara

miles morales

peter parker

pietro maximoff

sam wilson

stephen strange

steve rogers

thor odinson

tony stark

[kaylasficrecs]

miguel o'hara recs

it's always been you | imagine, flangst | @amhrosina

i need you to stay | imagine, flangst | @intoxicated-chan

because i love you! | imagine, flangst | @gay-dorito-dust

miguel o'hara x reader | drabble, fluff | @ichangedmycornyahhname

trivial | imagine, flangst | @spidcrhunni

nobody has to know | imagine, fluff | deactiated blog

el trato (the deal) | series | @messylustt

give me reasons we should be complete | imagine, flangst | @intoxicated-chan

teasing miguel | drabble, fluff | @stellaaarree

show me where it hurts | two shot, flangst | @loganlermanstanaccount

purr | drabble, fluff | @milequaritchsslut

liability | imagine, flangst | @crescentbelle

bite | drabble, fluff | @multi-fandom-imagine

what's in between | two shot, fluff | @ghost-with-a-teacup

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known | series | @angel-eyes05

husband!miguel | drabble, smut | @miguelsfangs

snow spider | one shot, fluff | @ichorai

college roommate!miguel | au, one shot, fluff, smut | @loganlermanstanaccount

sweet and soft aftercare | imagine, fluff, smut | @little-miss-dilf-lover

happy wife, happy life | imagine, fluff | @msgorillagripcoochie

after missions | imagine, fluff | @blackbat05

too fast | two shot, angst | @ronwestbreeze (this is the second part)

waking up | drabble, fluff | @stellaaarree

messy eater | drabble, smut | @miguelsfangs

a second chance | one shot, flangst | @fauustic

until i found you | imagine, flangst | @lymmsweb

my light | drabble, flangst (more fluff ) | @multi-fandom-imagine

cuddling | drabble, fluff | @livelaughloak

enchanted | one shot, flangst | @autumnalbee

tight grip, broken dam | imagine, flangst | @flowerpotmage

mid night | imagine, flangst (more fluffy) | @eyelessfaces

orange, red and blue | imagine, flangst | @ghost-with-a-teacup

when she brings him lunch | imagine, fluff | @kumori-suwan

i can't won't fight you | imagine, flangst | @operaphantomreader

hanging around | drabble, fluff | @ghost-with-a-teacup

w/ an innocent s/o | headcanon, fluff | @sweet-as-an-angel

i'm not cute | imagine, fluff | @sunflowersteves

new rules | one shot, flangst | @mandosaur

to a heart's content | au, headcanon, fluff | @cheralith

call | imagine, fluff | @cosmosis

miguel in love | one shot, fluff, smut | @moonlesslights

work mom | imagine, fluff | @miguelz

can't sleep | imagine, fluff | @cosmosis

forgive me | two shot, flangst | @lo-vearchive

full stomachs, fuller hearts | imagine, fluff | @prinzevyn

when he accidentally scares you | headcanon, flangst | @cyberstrm

te adoro | drabble, fluff (tiny angst) | @junewritesstuff

stay away from him | imagine, fluff | @queen-of-fanfics

warmth | imagine, fluff | @qaxqxd

coffee | two shot, fluff | @titanic-angel

[lo-vearchive]

Forgive Me

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female! reader

Summary: After an argument at work with your boss Miguel O’Hara you quit your job at Alchemex in anger. Luckily your boss’ AI talks some sense into him and sends him your way to beg for forgiveness. Read Part Two: here

Word Count: 2340 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel begging for forgiveness, 18+ (minors DNI), no explicit smut, but things do get spicy at the end, breastplay, questionable Spanish

Note: Not proofread. Did get carried away a little, but I just love angst and men begging. Take it up with the duolingo owl if you don’t like my Spanish (i tried :((). Feedback is appreciated because this may be the most I have ever written on Tumblr. Have fun, horndogs.

 You rush into Miguel’s office at Alchemex on a Tuesday afternoon.

           “Mr. O’Hara,” you call out, heaving. “I need to speak to you.”

If Miguel found the use of his last name odd, he didn’t react. He sat hunched over his desk, clattering away on his keyboard. His wide shoulders obstructed the view of the screen, but you could tell he was working away at something important. Everything Miguel did seemed to be a matter of life or death recently and that left you with no time to discuss the nature of your relationship. You were stuck somewhere between more than colleagues but less than romantic partners, and now you wanted more than just the stolen looks and accidental lingering touches.

When he didn’t answer you called out again, wary of the listening ears at your workplace. “Mr. O’Hara?”

He let out a sigh with his back still turned to you. “What is it?”

You clear your throat to brace yourself against his cold tone. “It’s about something a bit more personal, sir. I would feel much better if we could speak with the door closed—”

“No quiero hablar contigo,” (I don’t want to speak to you) he cut you off. “I have a deadline to meet. Come back later.”

“This is important,” you insisted, glancing behind you at the ajar door to his office. “I just need some clarity about where things are going. Our interactions are messing with my head and that’s impacting my performance. I just need an answer.”

Miguel scoffed and continued typing away. “Helping you with your little feelings isn’t my priority. Go find something else to do. I’m busy.”

Irritation flooded through your body. Usually you could tolerate his hot-and-cold behaviour, but your patience was wearing thin. You hated his unwillingness to ever say what he truly felt, and you were tired of being in limbo. “You can’t just dismiss me like I’m some child. Miguel—”

“— No me hables—” (Don’t talk to me)

“No, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen or whatever is going on between us will end right now!”

He slammed his hands on his desk and the entire room shook on impact. He turned around and stalked towards you until he stood, looming over you. His red eyes reflected the anger in yours. He ran a large hand through his dark, dishevelled hair and spoke in a hushed, stern voice. “You are embarrassing yourself. Do I have to remind you that I’m your boss and this is your workplace? Let go of whatever fantasies you have got cooking in your head and get to work.”

You felt as if someone had slapped you in the face. Your cheeks felt hot, and your eyes began to sting. You felt like an idiot and then you felt angry for feeling that way as Miguel stood in front of you with sunken eyes and a stoic face.

A smirk played on his lips. “Calladita estás más guapa.” (You look prettier when you’re quiet)

You didn’t need advanced Spanish skills to understand what he meant. “F-Fuck you,” you choked through a constricting throat. “You’re an asshole. I quit.”

You stormed out of the office, hiding the tears that had begun leaking out. Avoiding the pitiful gazes of your colleagues, you grabbed your purse off the reception desk, threw your nametag aside and left the building.

Once Miguel was alone in his office, his bravado faded away. “Fuck,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. “Lyla, give me a visual on her.”

Lyla puffed into his sight with her arms crossed over her chest. Behind her played a video of your name tag being tugged off your coat lapel and landing in the garbage. Your palms rubbed furiously against your eyes as you made your way to the elevator and away from him. “Shit,” he cursed again. “I messed up . . . ”

“Messed up?” Lyla echoed, incredulity laced in her voice. “You broke her heart! Matter of fact, I can show you precisely where you shattered it!”

She rewinded the visual to a few minutes back. Miguel’s stomach dropped as he saw her lips tremble as she held her head up, listening to the knives launching out of his mouth. Lyla shook her head as you’re the image of your crestfallen face faded away. “You better fix this,” she warned.

“I know, I know,” he exhaled loudly. “Send me her location. I need to go fix this.”

 *******************************************************************************************

      You sat in your bed with red eyes and a spicy chicken burrito bowl, scrolling through a job-hunting website. Miguel would have told you that the take-out place you ordered from wasn’t authentic Mexican food, but he would also dismiss your existence in the same sentence, so you decided to not put any weight behind his words. Yet you couldn’t deny that his behaviour today hurt you deeply. You kept replaying your past interactions to see if you had imagined a connection where there was none.

It had been six months since you started working at Alchemex. Everyone had warned you about Miguel and his brashness towards his past secretaries. You used to walk on eggshells around him, minimizing the space you took, and trying your hardest to not bring any undue attention to yourself. It wasn’t long until you figure out he was Spider-Man, you were always perceptive, especially of him. Somewhere along the line, the nine-to-fives turned to nine-to-midnight and then those turned into overnight stays at his office, working alongside him to research anomalies with Lyla.

At first, it was just innocent touches at the small of your back to move you out of his way in the cramped office. Then came the lingering touches on your arms as he hunched over behind you, helping you navigate some code written on his computer screen. You could vividly recall the night when you couldn’t reach a box of files on the top shelf of his filing case. Miguel had scooped you up effortlessly with an arm underneath your buttocks. His warm breath hit your stomach as he asked, “Did you get it?” You were thankful that he didn’t see the bright flush on your cheeks as he lowered you back onto the ground. You were even more thankful when he didn’t step away.

But none of that mattered anymore. He was an asshole and you had quit your job. You shoved a spoonful of rice in your mouth and pushed away the memories. The sun began to set, painting your room orange and slowly that too faded away. You sat in the darkness, contemplating hitting up your friends for a night out when you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise. From the corner of your eye, you saw a shadowy figure peering inside your bedroom from the fire escape. You let out a loud scream, scrambling away with the bowl in your hand.

The figure held up its hand in surrender. “It’s me! It’s me!” a familiar voice called out.

“Miguel?”

The figure nodded and the mask around its face disappeared to reveal his face. “Let me in,” he said, pressing his hand against the glass. “I need to speak to you.”

You set the bowl down on a nearby table and walked towards the fire escape with your arms crossed over your chest. “Pero no quiero hablar contigo,” (but I don’t want to speak to you) you replied, throwing his words right back to him. “You need to leave.”

He sighed and shook his head. Holding his wrist out, he let out a string of web and pulled the door back slightly. “No!” you shrieked as he slipped in through the gap. “I won’t get my safety deposit back!”

He crossed the space between us in long strides and grabbed my arms. “I will fix it,” he promised, “but I need you to listen to me first.”

You eyed him with a neutral expression, trying your hardest to control your thundering heart. “I am so, so sorry,” he said with his big brown eyes boring into yours. “I was an idiot for how I behaved. Please don’t quit. I need you.”

You pursed your lips and looked away.

“Mírame,” (look at me) he whispered, moving his hands up to your neck. His thumb turned your chin softly back to him.

“You were right,” he continued, rubbing his thumb softly across your jawline. “There is something here and it scares me. I acted like a coward today when you, my sweet, brave girl brought it up. Please don’t leave me behind.”

“You made me feel like I was an idiot,” you mumbled, fighting back tears, and looking anywhere but him. “Made me feel as if I was imagining things. I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want to forgive you.”

His large hands moved to cup your face. He inched closer until the material of his suit slightly skimmed the surface of your tank top. He pressed his forehead to yours. “Forgive me.”

“No.”

his cool minty breath gently fanned your face. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

“No.”

“Forgive me,” he repeated and moved his face lower to the crook of your neck.

“No— ung.”

He pressed his lips gently against the sensitive skin on your neck. “Forgive me.”

You raised your forearms and pressed them into his chest, attempting to push him away, but Miguel didn’t move an inch. His arms moved to your back, caging you in his embrace. “Not fair!” you cried.

He tipped your head back with his nose and slid his lips across the expanse of your throat. You bit your lips harshly to prevent the sounds of pleasure from escaping your throat. Your chest rose and fell harshly as his lips sucked away sensually. He moved his mouth and connected it with a spot that made your legs go numb. Miguel’s hands caught you before you could slip away. He hoisted you up and on instinct, you wrapped your legs around him for support. He walked you both backwards and gently laid you down on your mattress.

Leaning over you, he opened his mouth to speak but the light from your laptop screen caught his attention. “You’re already looking for jobs?” he pouted, fisting the sheet around your head. “You can’t leave me behind, baby. What am I supposed to do without you?”

You scoffed. “Whatever you were doing before. You can find someone else to be mean to.”

He grunted and dipped down to your throat once again. “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

He kissed you again and your hand flew to his dark locks in surprise. He groaned as you tugged on it. “You can pull my hair and be mean to me too,” he mumbled against your throat. “Just please forgive me and give us a chance.”

You wrapped your hand around his neck. “Everyone at work heard us argue.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “It was my fault, and I won’t ever do it again.”

“People will talk,” you tried to reason, playing with the ends of his locks. “You are my boss.”

He pulled back to meet your eyes. His hair stuck out in different places and made you giggle. “Oh, yeah? Just your boss?”

“Yeah, what else— mmph!”

His mouth is on yours and it leaves you confused. Every touch of his in the past has been fleeting but this time Miguel won’t let this kiss end. His tongue parts your mouth and finds yours as his hand coaxes your jaw open. You let out a satisfied hum as he brushes your hair away from your face and neck and angles your face up. You had always imagined what kissing him would feel like, but nothing compared to this. You both lay in bed, fully dressed, but Miguel kissed you like he was already inside of you.

He pulled away and you groan, chasing his lips. “Wait, wait, wait, does this mean you forgive me?”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled harshly. “Miggy, you’re in my bed and on top of me. Of course, I forgive you.”

“Good,” he grinned.

His hand moves to your throat and then down the laced edge of your tank top. He inhales you deeply. “You smell so good. Every time you walked by my desk, I would get hard from a whiff,” he muttered to himself. “Thought it was your perfume, but now I know that it’s just you, your scent . . . I wonder if its stronger when I . . . can I?”

You were too preoccupied with feelings of disbelief to understand what he was saying, but you knew you felt safe in his arms. You nodded enthusiastically. Miguel hooked a finger into my tank top and gently pulled it down. He lets out a deep groan as your peaked nipples emerge from behind the fabric. “I know this is fast, but God, I could just . . .”

He wrapped his large hand around a breast. You let out a whimper as his touch makes your cunt clench around nothing. He moves your nipple in the space between his fingers and gives it a tug. “Miggy,” you gasp, gripping his hair. “You do this to all your secretaries?”

He shook his head as he continued to play with your nipple, rubbing it between his fingertips. “Only you, baby. I only ever want you.”

His warm mouth wrapped around a nipple as your legs wrap around him tighter. He sucks away at one breast while his hand plays with the other.

“Miguel!” you cry out at the sensation.

The side of your thigh begins to vibrate. It takes you a moment for you to navigate through the haze of pleasure to realize his cell phone is ringing. You reach into his suit pocket and pull out his phone. The words ‘Tyler Stone, CEO’ shine brightly on the screen.

You let out laugh which turns into moan. “Your boss is calling.”

Without stopping his ministrations, he tugs the phone out of your hand and chucks it aside on the bed. “Can’t talk now,” he mumbled around your breast. “I have my mouth full.”

[luvrxbunny]

☆⋆༶⋆miguel o’hara⋆༶⋆˙☆

fangs - 1.9k [You see Miguel's fangs for the first time.]

gullible - 4.7k [You're wearing a new dress and a new... perfume?]

little spider - 3.3k [You're feeling some odd things and Miguel helps sort it out.]

pressure - 2k [Miguel underestimates how much a little pressure can affect him.]

slim fit - 1.6k [You find out about Miguel’s old suit.]

hold it - 1.4k [Miguel gave you a present but you keep wasting it.]

mural - 3.3k [Miguel’s canvas is getting unbearably empty.]

so much - 2.1k [You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.]

flower - 2.2k [You won’t let Miggy play.]

churn - 4.9k [Your royal knight helps you in a way your fiance never could.]

[spdrvyn]

vyn's ao3 fic reccs — went on a bookmarking spree yesterday (instead of studying oops) so here we are. please enjoy and make sure to check these creators and their lovely, lovely fics if you have the time!

maybe things were going to be just fine? by gogoberry2 — i really enjoyed the banter between miguel and reader here! author makes miguel so sassy that it's pretty entertaining to read.

amor vincit omnia by ely__sia — absolutely gut wrenching yet wholesome knight!au with miguel. he's so incredibly broody in this one yet so, so loveable.

of apples and oranges by bloodstained fingers — it's such a simple idea yet so well-executed and all with our favorite spider-man <3 miguel's really cute in this one, i love the domesticity of it

the world is full of noise (and i hear it all the time) by music4masses — miguel and reader's relationship in this fic feels very natural. made it feel real butterflies when i read tbh! should defo check this out

there's no distance (between you and me) by dylf — miguel really showing his role and instict as a protector/caretaker in this one! the spanish also feels natural and very in place (that's coming from someone that BARELY speaks spanish btw)

because by Vesss23 — maybe it's because i like seeing miguel a little angry but who knows! this is a good fic, with some ahaha. very nice. descriptions. of miguel so go, go read it neow!!!!!

the grump & the drunk by t_lostinworlds — by far, my personal favorite. miguel is just so, so charming and handsome yet i can't even see him. the tension is absolutely palpable and the writing just makes you fall in love with him even more

just stay here with me, cariño by kuko_field — i'm such a sucker for clingly, sleepy miguel that it's so bad. this is also another favorite of mine. i have no words, just read it.

[campingwiththecharmings]

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in October, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Sunk (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥An Unorthodox Method (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Kinktober Day 1 (Love Bites) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 4 (Sex Pollen) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Soft and Slow) (Cal Kestis x Reader) - @flightlessangelwings

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (Stripping) (Stripper!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

I just called to say I love you (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @nowritingonthewall

Adore you (Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 25 (Breeding) (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) (Part of the Gardens of Babylon Universe) - @spacecowboyhotch

Moon Knight

🔥Over the Counter (DBF!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Vivid (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Shades of the Moon (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Boundless (Witch Hunter!Marc x Witch!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Price You Gotta Pay (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥The Sweetest Sound (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Sweetest Taste (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (formal wear) (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 6 (Phone Sex) (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Kinktober Day 12 (Formal Wear) (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥What a Show (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥La Petite Mort (Ghost!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Pumpkin Porno (OnlyFans!Steven Grant) - @ominoose

In the morning light (Marc Spector x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Nature Boy (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Sleeping Dogs (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥What A Wicked Thing To Do (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥Kinktober Day 23 (Begging) (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥Couch Sex with Miguel (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming) (College!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥soft s3x and grey sweats (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @wyvernest

Ex Machina

🔥Peak-A-Boo (Ghostface!Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Perfect Little Fuck Toy (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Sucker Punch

🔥Product Demonstration (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Monster Mash (Rockstar!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

Triple Frontier

Under cotton and calicoes (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Make this feel like home (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 30 (Cunnilingus) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Just A Little Push (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Scenes From a Marriage

🔥Kinktober Day 2 (bath/shower) (Jonathan Levy x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 15 (Against a Wall & Voice Kink) (Jonathan Levy x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

The Two Faces of January

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Slow and Soft) (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥body talk (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) (part of the Oxford Comma series) - @whatthefishh

Misc.

🔥Just A Scratch (Jack Mohave x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Take Care (Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Service Fee (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥If You Wanna Be Wild (Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia) - @romanarose and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (i already recced this but there's more so 🙃)

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

[runa-falls]

check out convergence and webs of opacity by @inknopewetrust ! her fics are so emotionally charged and addicting to read!!!

i loveeeee angst and emotion! i'll def checkk them out :3

[tarjapearce]

Hiii, Tarja!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ₊ ✩

Hey dear! ☺️

My favorite fics, oohh that's nice. A tough one cause I love my stories all the same :') But my absolute favorite ones are these:

1. Bad Teachings. Fr. This is one of the most personal and close to my heart fics EVER. Seeing it evolve from a smutty two shot, to what I've got now is simply ❤️❤️❤️. I love it. The slow burn, the relationship evolving, the future healing done by both characters, the consequences of dismissed and untreated mourning, an insight on Miguel's pain :'). (Talked to a couple of psychologists that come to work to record their classes, about mourning to get a deeper perspective on it and damn 💔) And a relatable reader its... Just juicy juicy. Might add some more chapters since I wanna do it right. And it's the first fic that ignited my Miguel Brain rot hehe, and my love for writing ☺️.

2. Of Flowers and Hummingbirds. I'll defend this baby with teeth and claws from stealing and plagiarism the times it requires from me. Cause DAMN I love me a good angst and writing about complex relationships and exploring characters SO MUCH it's AAAAHHH I love it. It's messy, crude, not everyone's cup of tea and I love it ❤️. Still nervous about his redeeming jsksj.

3. Iridiscent. It has history. And I love history. Love, Absolutely adore, the golden age of piracy. And having found a perfect set for including Miguel is just ❤️❤️❤️. Beyond perfect! Though this gave me a major headache, cause I rewrote the outline several times. I don't regret it tho jskjs. (Was fighting against the Immorality Of Love for this spot cause it also has history in it :'))

4. The Soccer Family AU. Having an AU where Miguel is happy by simply being a loving and hardworking husband at Alchemax with a bunch of kiddos and a wife that loves him to death, is another that fed my brain rot for him :').

5. Miguelverse. I like my plot with some p0rn and context in it, thank you. Specially Heathens ❤️. I love it cause it has sooo many different Miguels without completely stopping being him while exploring different kinks and indulgent scenarios 🤭. And buckle up cause more is coming te hee ~

(Sorry if you got this in your ask box more than twice 😅.)

[heartthrobin]

yellow light (1)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 2.0k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is emotionally constipated, angst

an: i've been dying to write a villain!reader for a while now and i actually have a lot planned for these two if y'all want to see more let me know <3 remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: Miguel could find you across worlds, across dimensions. he'd only need to look for his yellow light.

part two

evenings at HQ are quiet.

by eight, most spiders have crawled back into the arms of their MJs or their Gwens. and by nine, only Miguel’s heartbeat rings louder than the buzz of computers.

Lyla pops in with an occasional “you should go home” and he ignores her like he does every night. she doesn’t do it so much anymore.  

a light flickers against the computer, it pings softly. alert urgent enough to assume he’d received an email. Miguel’s eyes find the notification.

Anomaly detected! Earth-8901!

it wasn’t that anomalies clocked off, like the spiders did.

Miguel sighs, tight and curt. he glances over his shoulder as if there stood a row of spider-people itching to go fight. he finds only his shadow stretching far down the empty office.

Lyla glitches into form, leaning against a mug that had been growing steadily colder since he’d made it and abandoned it an hour ago. “you’d think even anomalies need sleep—”

she taps a couple times on the screen and live feed from Earth-8901 streams across the monitors. it’s a generic scene: police car lights flash, there is the steady rumble of people talking in frantic voices. they’re, unoriginally, in front of a bank.

Miguel rolls his left shoulder back, it’s fruitless in easing the tension there. “go see if there’s anyone still around. they can come help with this before they leave.”

there’s a flash on the screen and Miguel’s hand falls off his shoulder. his eyes find the screen again, they flicker frantically over it.

“wait.” he directs Lyla, hand held out.  

between the sirens, he hears it. he could pinpoint it over dimensions and in the crowd of a rock-concert if whispered. that giggle.

yellow light flashes again, a crack of lightning, and you appear on the hood of a police car. you’re keeling over laughing – Miguel doesn’t find it villainous, like he should. instead it warms a pit deep in his stomach.

“oh look,” Lyla folds her legs over each other, glancing back at him amused. “it’s your little girlfriend.”

he doesn’t grant her an answer, he’s focused on your miniaturised figure. it’s blurry, but it’s undoubtedly you.

there’s another crack and you’re gone, bullets fly through the spot you’d just occupied and the police car is a pile of smouldering ash.

“i’ll sort this out.” Miguel says. it’s strained, gruffer than most of what he says is.

 “you don’t want back up? i’m sure there’s still some Peters hanging around?” but Lyla’s grinning that wide grin she does when she knows she’s pushing her boss’ buttons.

“no.” the portal spills orange and red and pink light into the dimly lit room. “and you stay here.”

her little hand came to her face, eyes rolling when she offers a half-assed salute. “whatever you say, boss.”

the air is sticky where he steps out onto a rooftop. Miguel feels where the humidity crowds over his face and against his palms, it’s the syrupy warmth that follows where you go.  

down in the street below is the image he’d been watching off the monitor. heavily armed policemen were drawing closer to the doors of the bank where you were no doubt inside wreaking havoc.

you had no inclination for money, he knew that, but your chase for chaos? endless.

overhead, a chopper is flying low over the scene. cameras and news-women flock the barricades blocking the street. Miguel rests a hand over the railing, mask crawling up over his head. he is quietly assessing the easiest way past meddling cops when his thoughts are dissolved by a crack. it’s so loud, so close, and the brightness of the light screws his eyes shut.

“what’cha looking at?”

when his eyes open, you’re leaning over the railing. you’re grinning down on the street as if you aren't the cause for commotion.

your dress shivers where you bounce on the balls of your feet. that goddamn yellow doll dress, the villain uniform you insist on donning. it did unspeakable things to Miguel's psyche. the way it fluttered at the tops of your thighs, that your whole clavicle was exposed and just fucking begging for him to run his lips across your shoulders.

your mask is hanging loosely in your hand.

"i thought i told you to stay in your dimension."

you shrugged. your hair was held up by bows of canary ribbons and they swayed where you tilted your head petulantly at him. "c'mon, Miggy, where's the fun in that?"

he's still made no effort to move, head cocked to watch you. your figure swims in his shadow, small beneath his frame.

you were glowing like you did most of the time. a golden light that permeated the dark night air. Lyla once commented that you were a walking lightbulb.

but it's dimmed. you were losing power, wasting it by flashing up to bother him on this rooftop. Miguel knows more about your condition than he needs to.

"they happened to fix the super collider on my earth, so i thought i'd take it for a spin." you speak again.

Miguel's eyes narrow.

you cave, whole body loosening and eyes rolling. "fine. i held a couple scientists against their will and forced them to fix it, but that's hardly what's important."

your words chase each other around his brain. your smile is fracturing, he hasn't heard your little laugh once since you'd appeared beside him.

"why?"

little ribbons swinging, you ignore his question.

"take off your mask for goodness sake." your head lolls to the side, almost against your shoulder. "haven't seen you in ages."

the red and blue mask slips back.

half because Miguel found he could never find it within himself to say no to you and half because he wanted to soak in the view of your face with his own eyes and not through his grainy visor.

he finds it was worth it because you smile again, that smile that could call him home from dimensions away.

"pretty as ever, O' Hara."

"why did you fix the super collider?"

you recoil, like he's lashed at you. your eyes find the street again and you shrug but don't answer him.

Miguel lets the silence permeate. even the ruckus in the street quietens, but he thinks that maybe all sounds do when you're around.

you shuffle your feet until your shoulder finds his side where his arms hang purposelessly. when your skin finds his, there's an electrical snap and he flinches just slightly. you don't mention it.

"don't the lights look pretty?" the commotion still holds your gaze.

trying desperately not to cave into your touch, not to pull your glowing face into his palms, Miguel sucks in a breath of composure. "to rob a bank, is that why? couldn't rob a bank on your own earth?"

"you wouldn't come if i robbed a bank back home."

the sentence hangs. your head finds his side.

"what?" it's barely a whisper, barely a sound, but you catch it.

"i mean," you push yourself off him, voice relighting with that theatrical quality that hid the tremble beneath your words. "i got the hint, you don't like me - you made that clear - but i just wanted to see ya' one last time. you know?"

Miguel hated the voice you put on. it was ungenuine and you used it on cops and other spidermen. not him.

"so i thought i'd do a quick pop in, see if you were around--"

"when did i ever make that clear that i didn't like you?"

gravel of torn brick crunched beneath your foot where you turned to face him again. Miguel found that your eyes were wet, the same eyes that blinked at him when he closed his own.

"i asked you to come." your voice wobbled and it was like a scalding poker meandering between his organs. "i asked you to come. to visit me."

of course he remembers when. it was the last time you'd been dragged from an earth that wasn't yours, when you'd gone for a joy-ride between dimensions really just for the fun of it.

Jessica was clipping some handcuffs around your wrist, the kind that Miguel invented to subdue powers. he remembers how your light flickered all the way out, leaving only the shine that could never rub off your eyes.

despite the metal clipping your wrists, you'd grinned up at Miguel.

"you gonna come visit me, Miggy?" Jessica huffed, tugging you in the direction of the portal.

Miguel didn't like how rough Jessica was being, despised the thought of dark bruises around your wrists, but didn't say anything on it.

he settled with: "it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

your eyes twinkled. "just once?"

he almost smiled.

"i'll think about it."

you weren't satisfied. "promise?"

he'd nodded. he thought it'd make you go easier. "i promise i'll think about it."

he realised now that it had only made it easier to watch you go.

your shine flickers like a lamp in a haunted house. "i waited. you never came."

it wasn't true.

"yn." he calls out gently across the space dividing your body from his. he takes a cautious step.

it wasn't true that he "never came". Miguel visits your dimension more than his own apartment.

in the moments where Lyla ushers him home, her static voice echoing over his shoulder: "you need sleep", he'd slip out quietly.

sometimes it's morning already, he watches you trip over your feet out your apartment building. you're consistently late to your first class.

other times it's Friday night and you're dolled up, primped in a short skirt and dirty sneakers. you're with other girls, you all stumble together to and from the bar down the street.

Miguel's never had the balls to announce his presence. he quietly enjoys you in the moments you're just ... yn. physics major and perpetual night owl. enjoys watching you at three am when you tinker at your desk with copper cables and wires and entertain yourself with a loose lightbulb where you flicker it on and off and on and off with just a brush of your finger over the glass.

when you've made it home - drunk, but safe - or grown bored of your trinkets and crawled into bed with slow blinks, only then does he conjure the portal and return to his own lonely apartment.

"that's the answer to your question." you're not facing him again. "i just wanted to see you one more time."

this time he tucks his cowardice in his pocket and Miguel moves to you, out from the shadows into the warmth of your light. his chest presses to your back, head finding the side of yours.

you nuzzle his temple with your own, melt against his frame like you were built to be slotted against his chest.

"lo siento, mi amor." words scramble in his mouth. he chokes on all the sentiments he could share. mostly i love you, please ask me again to come with you.

his hand finds your hip, he squeezes the fatty tissue there. you sigh.

your palm finds his cheek, it sparks but Miguel is ready for it this time and doesn't flinch. you nudge his face so it hovers over yours.

"i thought you might say that."

the soft pad of your finger runs over the edge of his jaw. you twist so you're facing him, jailed beneath his wide shoulders and Miguel realises that your lashes are even longer up close.

he nudges his nose against yours. "it's the truth."

your eyes flutter shut, you shake your head.

warm lips press up into the apple of his cheek. his stomach curls dangerously at the wet touch.

"maybe one day you'll prove it then, Miggy." you whisper against his skin.

he leans further down, desperate and itching to catch your lips against his this time, but your palm finds his chest first.

electricity chases down his veins like blood on fire.

Miguel's body is launched with the volts of a bolt of lightning and barely feels where his shoulders crumble through brick and plaster of the building over. he wrestles with unconsciousness and loses, body twitching and spasming from the surge of your power when the darkness envelopes him.

when he comes to, the sun is peaking over the nearest building and you are long gone.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist:

@lovely-vamp-princess @yeetmetothesky @mdsbabygirl @wyldeflovver @literally-a-god @the-great-ladyg @yerimsho @kerbulkdystchan @sandwich-picklebelly18 @ghostingtheinternet @readinghoes @stqrlightrs @vampiremiguel950 @snowdrop987 @vikingqueen28 @dakumoon-00000 @ilovewoc @sparklytoaster @animequeen4 @neytirisgfreal @shinononstan @queerponcho @edgaluten @mxn14 @jollycandybanana @jxnnav @mik-bxrnes @hotbisexualmess @judeeduartte @omg-kitzia-blr @over-the-moon-for-you @daedaep69 @snailss @mysteriouserrorrr @dazeydelrey @16bruises @brownskin-bunny @littlelfreak @simeon-lovergirl @sticksheaad @miguelslefteyebrow @crazy-ravioli @sweethxneytea @starsluver @obi-mom-kenobi @that-freaky-mysterious-one @cheermoon @lipstickmarks @vaporwave8chan @chiyoyooo @agentr13 @stargazingcarol @keeninternetchaos

[del-ightful]

I’m blaming @fangswbenefits for what I’m about to do

[kaylasficrecs]

miguel o'hara recs - part 2

double perspective of you | drabble, smut | @anchoeritic

hold my swaying heart | imagine, fluff | @kombuuuu

paper flowers | imagine, fluff | @luveline

baker!reader | imagine, fluff | @bruisedboys

falling asleep at the office | headcanon, fluff | deactivated blog

lonely | one shot, flangst | @gavvaiins

we're still humans | one shot, flangst | @nackrosor

caged | drabble, flangst, comfort | @cyberstrm

dumb questions | drabble, fluff | @zg0nuwa

i get mean when i'm nervous | imagine, smut | @silkscream

annoying | two shot, angst | @sillyblues

sneaky smooches | drabble, fluff | @multi-fandom-imagine

every you every me | series | @astroboots

animalic | series | @moondirti

sneaky kiss | imagine, fluff | @hoshigray

miguel and his arms | imagine, fluff | @livelaughloak

completely yours | one shot, flangst (more fluff) | @underoossss

miguel with a civilian s/o | headcanon, fluff | @certainlynotasimp

alleviate | imagine, fluff | @rin-vana

protective!miguel | imagine, flangst | @sunflowersteves

claws and paws | drabble, fluff | @myir0nlung

not for us | one shot, angst | @spideyheart

cute plaster | imagine, fluff | @luveline

holding hands under the table | imagine, fluff | @sunflowersteves

burnt pancakes | imagine, flangst, comfort | @1800-fight-me

crash | drabble, fluff | @evanstanwhore

protector | one shot, flangst | @ladyelissarose

there's no distance (between you and me) | imagine, fluff | @devotion

infinite possibilities | imagine, fluff | @ghost-with-a-teacup

hammock by the sea | two shot, fluff | @wyvernest

a misunderstanding | series | @gejo333

the other women | two shot, angst | @voidhope

ride him slowly | drabble, smut | @crispbang

thick thighs | drabble, smut | @sunflowersteves

thigh man | imagine, smut, fluff | @runa-falls

jealous!miguel | imagine, flangst (more fluff) | @madschiavelique

wife!reader | imagine, fluff | @fhrlclln

the wishing tree | two shot, flangst | @luveline

boxer miguel | au, drabble, fluff | deactivated blog

self conscious | imagine, flangst | @madschiavelique

kissing you everytime he does a push-up | drabble, fluff | @tarjapearce

can see himself inside you | drabble, smut | deactivated blog

coming home clingy and needy | drabble, smut | @messylustt

chew toy | drabble, fluff | @cherryredstars

a change in place | one shot, fluffy flangst | @inkdrinkerworld

stupidly yours | imagine, fluff | @marroonwitch (me!)

[lo-vearchive]

Forgive Me (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here

Word Count: 4463 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish

Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable.  If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)

It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.

After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.

 You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?

You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)

You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?

You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?

You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.

You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.

You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?

You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.

You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?

You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.

 Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”

You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”

Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”

You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”

“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”

Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”

The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”

“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”

“My name is John,” he says.

You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.

You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”

“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”

You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”

John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”

“What?”

“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”

You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”

You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.

A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”

He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.

“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”

“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”

Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”

“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”

He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder.  “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”

The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.

Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”

He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.

He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”

You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”

“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”

The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”

Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”

“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”

“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”

“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.

You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”

You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.

The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.

You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”

Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”

Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”

“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”

“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.

“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”

A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.

You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”

“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”

You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”

“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”

“I didn’t pay my tab.”

“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”

Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.

You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.

“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”

Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.

You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.

“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”

He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”

“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”

“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”

His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.

“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”

He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”

“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.

“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”

“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”

He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”

“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”

He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”

“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”

His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.

You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”

You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”

“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.

“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.

His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”

“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.

“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”

His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.

You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”

Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.

“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”

He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”

You cry, arching into his touch.

“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.

He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.

“Do you want my finger inside you?”

You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”

Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.

He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.

“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”

His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”

“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.

His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.

“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.

“Good? I bet that feels so good.”

“Gah—”

He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.

Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”

You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.

He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.

“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”

A/N: Thoughts?