#miguel: oh wow he really likes you guys

[bruciemilf]

miles, and any of the other spiderlings appear in front of battinson and his adoption-sense goes off

he decides that these wierdly dressed children are now his. i mean it is only fair afterall, finders keepers and all that.

i think this is a funny scenario to think of

Bruce apologising to Rio and Jeff for adopting their son, " I'm so sorry, Mrs. And Mr. Morales. I should've known Miles had wonderful parents when he took off his shoes before walking in the house."

Rio breaths, looking at Bruce, then at Jeff, "Oh, I like him."

"Can I still pay for his college tuition? I was thinking Harvard, but the choice is yours, of course."

"I really like him."

Miguel smirks like the salty little bastard he is. " Jeff is a cop. Did he tell you that?"

[drefear]

Closer by NIN

This is part two for Nasty

Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.

TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.

Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 

His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 

“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 

“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 

You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’

“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 

“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 

The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 

So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 

You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 

“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 

“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 

“Wow. He must really be into it.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 

“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 

And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 

“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 

Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 

The song!

Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 

You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 

“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 

“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.

“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 

“Well, yes, but-“ 

“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 

“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 

The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 

“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 

“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 

“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 

“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 

“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 

“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 

“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 

Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 

“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”

“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 

“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 

That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 

“You let me violate you 

You let me desecrate you 

You let me penetrate you 

You let me complicate you”

Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.

The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.

Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 

“you tear down my reason

(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 

(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 

“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.

“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 

“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 

“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 

His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 

But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-

The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 

“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 

“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 

“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 

He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.

The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.

Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 

He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 

“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 

“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 

“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 

“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 

You were fucking loving this.

Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 

“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.

“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 

Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 

“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."

Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 

“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 

And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-

“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.

“You… enjoyed that?”

“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 

You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.

[nevertheless-moving]

Gotta figure that at least 50% of those spidermans were very delibrately not putting their all into the big chase scene, bare minimum 10% actively sabotaging. like oh no we're on a train to the moon, guess we're stuck and can't go after him anymore.

Please.

Running in a pack, big crowd of the chattiest superheros to ever live (and theres a lot of chatty fucking superheroes), several dozen of them with front row seats to the big reveal-

"so why are we after this kid?" "He wants to stop one of his canon events" "his canon events?" "a canon event." "You mean-" "Wait what did she say, we're chasing this guy because he wants to keep his girlfriend from falling to her death?" "Uh. Not sure. Might be the childhood friend - watch your heads - turning evil thing." "I thought those were fixed points? Like you couldn't stop them no matter how much you time traveled back?" "There he is!" "Wait you have time travel?" "No but I heard the spider from earth 1116a-" "Wait if it's fixed then what's the harm in letting him try" "come on you know the multiverse-" "he's trying to keep his boyfriend from dying? Why the fuck are we chasing him?" "Well miguel said-" "you mean Grimdark angsty spiderman?" "Huh?" "No, not you, vampire - incoming, mind your legs - vampire grimdark angsty spiderman-" "oh, him. Isn't he a bit-" "I feel like the trying is what matters, i mean even if he fails-" "so he is a vampire!" "ummm yeah no hold up im not totally comfortable with this whole-" "who's trying to do what? Ooh, got line of sight on him, he's totally webbed in 3,2, AaAghh" "Oh shoot, haha I must have tripped on Spider-Banana-Man whoops, sorry -" "ugh whattever, lost the shot anyway" "Cant believe Spider-Rex boffed it like that, theyre usually great at ambush-" "I heard his uncle-" "No his dad-" "oof, thats-" "Wow is it just me or are we really tripping over each other today" "Hey do you know why we're chasing after this-"

[cherryredstars]

Cherry, I love your work! Can you do a short with a clueless reader of Miguel's feelings? At 1st, he very subtle with it, dropping little hits here and there but then get a little desperate cause matter all the gifts she receives she thinks " Wow what a nice guy"

Love your work ❤️

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Pining

A/N: This request was so cute!! I love writing soft Miggy!!

Unedited

He's at his wits' end.

He doesn't know what to do, because obviously his current plan isn't working. For months he's been trying to get you to notice him. He's been trying to get you to notice how much he feels for you. All for it to end up in vain, all for it to be taken as him being simply nice. Maybe he's being greedy in wanting more. It's run through his head millions of times that maybe he's the naive one. That maybe you know exactly how he feels, but you're too kind to turn him down directly.

But he knows that's not the case. He's heard the way you talk about him to others. Gushing about all the gifts he gets you, how kind and thoughtful he is, how he's such a nice guy. He wants to bash his head through a wall, maybe then he could come up with something to get you to notice.

So, here he is, sitting at one of your favorite restaurants waiting for you to walk in. His knee bounces rapidly under the table, his knee dangerously close to jolting the table repeatedly. His eyes keep straying to the door, trying to desperately catch a glimpse of you. His hands cycle between tapping on the table's surface and squeezing the bouquet in his hand. He attracts the attention of the tables around him when his knee does hit the table, his body jolting when you walk in.

You look as breathtaking as ever, your hair done nicely and wearing one of his favorite outfits. Your face lights up when you spot him, giving him a smile that makes heat crawl up his collar. He can feel beads of sweat forming on his temple as you make your way over, the smile on your face not diminishing for a second.

He took in a shaky breath, mustering up everything in him to return your smile with a small one. His eyes are sharply trained on you as you take a seat in front of him, watching as you smooth out your outfit.

"Sorry," you chuckle breathlessly as you meet his eyes, picking up the menu in front of you, "I got held up and I had to- Are those for me?"

Miguel's eyes fall to the bouquet you're staring at, still clenched tightly in his hand. Miguel blinks before clearing his throat, nodding as he holds it out for you. You smile, whispering out a shy thank you as you take it. You cradle it to your chest, cheeks taking on the slightest shade of color as you fix the crumbled paper they're wrapped in.

Miguel clears his throat, wincing when he tries to scoot his chair in and it squeaks against the floor. "You... I like what you're wearing."

You're eyes stray from the flowers, adjusting your arms to see what you have on. Your mouth drops open in a small 'o', nodding. "Oh, thank you! I wasn't sure if it was this outfit or the other one you liked that one time."

His cheeks are absolutely blazing, and he feels like he might suffocate under his clothes. His eyes dart away to the menu, pretending to look at its contents to avoid looking at your face. A lapse of silence falls over the table, and you slowly look down at your own menu when Miguel doesn't make a move to say anything.

"It was really nice of you to treat me to lunch," You speak up and Miguel looks over the top of the menu to look at you. "I'll be sure to treat you next time!"

Miguel has to bite his lip. There's that word again: nice. The more and more he hears it, the more the word nice doesn't sound so nice. He hums to mask his displeasure of the adjective, slowly setting the menu down.

"Actually..." He begins, folding his hands over the placed menu. You look up at him, eyeing his hands and slowly copying him with furrowed brows. He has to resist the urge to hit the table from how cute you are. "I asked you to have lunch with me because I had to tell you something."

You nod slowly in understanding, body stiffening slightly as you prepare yourself for what he might have to say. Miguel can feel sweat accumulating in the grooves of his palms, and he squeezes them tighter.

"I, um..." Miguel suddenly feels too hot, the air awfully tense. "I was wondering if you noticed my... advances?"

You blink at him, mouth slightly parting in confusion. Your hands slowly unfold as your head turns to look at the bundle of flowers that sit next to you. Miguel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he had asked a waiter for water before you came.

He jolts when you start laughing, catching the eyes of the other patrons. Miguel wishes the floors would swallow him or that he wasn't so tall. Maybe then he could slump into the chair. You smile as you grab the flowers again, gently stroking the petals.

"You liked me? This whole time?" You ask, a soft smile on your face as you tilt your head. Miguel nods hesitantly, mentally preparing for rejection.

You smile down at the flowers, a fond look on your face. "I thought this whole time you were trying to let me down gently."

Miguel is left completely still as he tries to process the words. Let you down gently? The implication hits him instantly, and his heart starts to beat rapidly in his chest.

"You... what?" He asks, needing the clarification before he reads too much into it.

"I mean," You laugh. "You never really responded to my flirting or anything so I just thought..."

"Flirting?" Miguel interrupts, brows furrowing in confusion. He can't for the life of him recall a moment where you flirted with him.

"You know... the compliments and stuff?" You clarify slowly, cheeks begin to burn at his intent stare.

Compliments? Miguel rakes through his brain, trying to recall anything you said to him that might hold a double meaning. But the only thing that surfaces is the word nice.

"You mean... when you would call me nice?" Miguel asks.

You nod bashfully, "Yeah... and wearing the outfits you said you liked."

Miguel slumps forward, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shake with disbelieving laughter. This whole time you were flirting with him. Miguel takes in shuddering breaths as he tries to compose himself, giving you a soft smile with twinkling eyes.

"No offense," He starts, leaning back in his chair. "But you suck at flirting."

You let out an exasperated sigh before hiding your face behind the menu, muttering out a gentle shut up. Miguel smiles to himself, picking up his own menu as all the anxiety in his body washes away.

He really is clueless.

Fun fact: I get told my flirting comes off as friendly all the time and one of my male crushes asked me if I was gay because I kept complimenting him and it reminded him of all his gay friends LOL

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spiders, Bats, And More!

{1/?}

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

{Where a bat, a spider meets the mentors!}

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

"(L/N)." A familiar voice calls out to you.

"Miguel-!" You cheer, happily turning over to your "boss". Jumping over to hug him happily. "Wow! You look amazing! New outfit and hair- oh!" You pause your ranting as he pushes you off. Lyla eagerly returning you words as her holographic form floats around you.

"Oh! Miguel! I want you to meet my partner." You turn your attention away from them.

He blinks. What did you mean-?

A huge body appears from beyond the shadows. Stalking over to your side, his mask glaring down at the other spider, his arm muscles flex as they cross disapprovingly at them.

"This is my partner! Isn't he a dreamboat?" You say allowed, hyping up the tall male.

"Huh... Yeah, real emphases on boat huh..." Lyla remarks, as she leans near, as you wrap an arm around Bruce.

"I know right! He's strong like one!" You cheer, as he grunts apathetically at the comment Lyla gave. You smile cheekily as Miguel merely hums, no longer focused on bat-themed hero. He looks to his watch as he types in a few things.

" 'B'?" Lyla asks.

"Yeah!"

Miguel mutters curse's over his breath when realizing where the watch had brought him too.

-

[Here's something silly I wanted to write for since everyone is doing a Batman and Spider verse more! It's really fun to right for! So I thought I would throw another idea out there into the ring! Yes, this is a part of the Spider and Bat Snippets I have floating around my blog

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Could you do a part two for whipped but like it is after the baby is born and we see Miguel hold a meeting but he has to take care of his kids cause mama is having her self care day and like he has the baby strapped on to him as their daughter climbs and runs around. And what if the baby is like a mini miguel and does similar faces or interrupts him with their own babbling!

AWWW. Part 1-

Whipped pt 2

“Uh, yeah, yeah, it’s fine, but I really have gotta start a meeting today-“ he said, when you asked him to watch both the baby and your daughter.

“Just take them with. Or get someone else to watch them.” You said, as you put on your shoes.

“Alright. Yeah. I got it. I’ll see you later. Have fun.” He said, not wanting to make you upset. You deserved a day off, especially from the baby. Your 6 month old baby had been annoying you, a lot. He could tell, no matter how much you tried to put on a front.

“I love you.” You kissed him, your daughter said ew to the both of you, you laughed and walked out the door.

“Alright, guys. C’mon.” He said, holding the baby as he looked back at your daughter.

He opened up a portal, your daughter going first, and then Miguel and the baby.

“Wow! They’re so grown up.” Lyla said, appearing out of no where and looking at them.

“Yeah, yeah, is everyone in the meeting room?”

“Everyone but Hobie.”

“Of course.” Miguel mumbled.

“I wanted to go over everyone’s performance.” He stated, still holding the baby. Your guy’s daughter was looking around and running around the large room.

“Ignore my children…” he said, embarrassed slightly.

“Anyways, mostly all of you have been doing great. Except for Hobie.. who’s never at these meeting. We have some new recruits, and I hope that you’ll all accept th-“

The baby started to babble, and someone snickered. Then he made a face that looked too similar to Miguel. Three people laughed at that.

“Anyways, as I was saying-“

“Bah-bah. Bah-bah.” He started to flail around in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Can you hold your brother for a second?” He looked at your daughter.

“Sure…” she said, and held him while they spoke nonsense to each other.

He talked for a while, and then finally

“Finally, if I see one more person miss a meeting, unless your dead or dying, you’re off the damn team. And quit eating on missions! You can do that after, can you not?”

They all nodded and packed up their stuff, leaving.

“Fucking Hobie.” He mumbled, when he saw both his daughters leave to go to the man.

“Uncle Hobie!” Your daughter said, going up to him.

“Hey!! There’s my favorite people. You both are so big now!” He looked at the baby in her arms.

“I know! Mama says that soon enough-“ she went on and on. Hobie laughing and smiling as she talked.

“Hobie.” Miguel said.

Hobie looked at him as he picked up his baby from his daughters arms.

“If you miss another meeting, you’re out.” Miguel said.

“Fine by me.” He shrugged, and continued to play with the baby, who really liked him.

“Alright, I’ll see you both later.” Hobie said, when Miguel grew impatient.

“C’mon.” Miguel said, baby in his hands as your daughter followed.

—————————————————————

“How was work? Were they good?” You asked when you both finally got to lay down.

“It was.. alright. They were fine.” He said, looking at you as you changed.

“That’s good.” You smiled.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, maybe you could take them next time too.” You joked.

He laughed “If it means that you’re not mad every time I come home, gladly.”

“I’m not mad when you come home!”

“Yea you are.”

You feigned offense. “Oh shut up.” You hit his chest.

He laughed again. Then he realized. ‘Oh shit. Peter was right. I am whipped.’

[blueysobssesions]

His last moments with you

Angst, Character death

Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Miguel O' Hara, Miles Morales, Peter B Parker, Gwen Stacy

Hobie Brown

His last moment with you, was him pulling you from the backstage, taking you to the stage while the band played their instruments. Kissing you right there, with his fans watching the two of you. You can hear the lousy screams from the crowd as he held you close, pulling away. "H-hobie..." "Shh, jus' look at me, luv" You locked eyes with Hobie, his forehead touching yours saying "I love ya'"Seems like most of the crowd heard what he said, they were screaming. You were flustered, wanting to go back to the backstage but, he placed a kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

The concert wasn't the same when Hobie took a break... over a month when the 'event' happened.

Pavitr Prabhakar

His last moments with you were after the graduation of the both of you, you two were excited at that moment. 3...2...1! the countdown finished, then everybody started to toss their caps in the air, celebrating the completion of the journey. As the caps fell back down, you locked eyes with Pavitr, leaning into a kiss. The world seemed to fade away in that moment, and all you could feel was the warmth of his lips against yours. Everyone looked at the both of you in awe, one of your bestfriend didn't hesitate to take a picture. "Everyone's looking at us" "Do you think that I care?" he said before pecking your lips.

It was a bittersweet goodbye, this would be the last time you would be together.

Miguel O' Hara

His last moment with you was, at the bedroom, cuddled up together. It was his first proper sleep. You watched as him peacefully drifted off, his breathing steady and his face relaxed. Your fingers slowly stroking his soft hair, while your other hand held his hand. You were happt to finally see him sleep properly, with how much he's focused and stressed... he couldn't sleep. As a wife of his, you need to take care of him and ensure he gets the rest he deserves. 

But now, he's taking care of himself... the word 'sleep' now was nothing to him.

Miles Morales

His last moments with you was having a dinner with you and his parents. Rio already liked you when you started to teach Miles spanish, and you helping jeff solve some crimes here and there. Miles couldn't help but smile at this. Rio was the one who made you come over and have dinner, and of course you agreed. He couldn't help but be flustered when you talked about him to them. "He did great at spanish class" you smiled, before eating your food. "Oh, really? Well, that's indeed great! What did he get?" "I think miles should answer that" you giggled. They turned their head towards them, which miles flinched. "u-uh, yeah... I got an A plus" he said nervously. Rio gasped, impressed "Wow, really! That's great!" "Good job, miles" they said. "Well, Y/n helped me with it. You guys should thank Y/n too" Miles smiled at you, how can he be lucky? You smiled back and blushed a little bit.

And now here... Rio and Jeff comforting their son... holding his phone, the picture of the both of you showing in the screen.

Peter B. Parker

His last moments with you is the both of you danicing in the living room while music plays in the backround. You began to move to the beat, leading him in a slow dance. As the both of you moved together, you both found lost in the moment, forgetting the world outside your own four walls. It was just the two of you, surrounded by love and music. The song ended and you both stood still for a moment before breaking apart and looking at each other with a smile on your face. "I love you," he said as he pulled you into his arms. "I love you too," you replied as he kissed your forehead.

It was the first and last dance for him

Gwen Stacy

Her last moments with you is hanging out with the others for the first time. Going on a picnic with Hobie, Pavitr, You, Gwen, Miles, Peni and Peter with mayday. As the sun set on that memorable day, laughter filled the air as you all bonded. It was a beautiful moment for everyone, the two of you watching the sunset while the others chatter. Your head on her shoulder as you both shared a comfortable silence. 

Knowing that it would be your last moments with all of them.

[brianwashere]

hello!! saw your writing today in my tags and got interested, read some more and you seem really cool :D i got one fic stuck in my head though, the one you posted earlier today with the 7 foot spider reader! it was really cool but i kind of thought about a follow up (and I made sure to check your rules before this)

i was thinking, m/n is really big, intimidating and generally a badass- however. in bed (nsfw) he’s inexperienced, shy af, and ends up just being really submissive (you actually didn’t specify if you prefer dom or sub reader, i assumed you mind neither, but if u don’t feel comfortable with this then just ignore)

thank you, and keep up your great works so far :D

Anon, you’re officially my favorite fucking person ever. Oh my god. This req. warmed my heart. Idek what. It just did. Thank you for reading my other fics too. Wow. I’m reeling rn.

Also you didn’t specify who with so I just did HCs for Noir and Miguel

Pls req again soon! You’re so sweet

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony **

Summary: look at req

Tw: explicit activities ehehehehe, language

-Miguel-

The first time you two try anything he’s expecting you to be all dominant and get his ass blasted

Y’all two are making out and he’s ready to take it to the next level

And you’re nervous cause you know he’s expecting you to be this super experienced “knows how to make you scream immediately” kinda guy

The truth is you haven’t had much experience because while people may be into the whole “huge man” thing they’re too scared to actually come up to you and even have a conversation

And you’re also scared of hurting your partner

Just a mix of things that led you to little experience

It doesn’t take long for Miguel to figure it out

As soon as you glanced at his face nervously he knew something was up

At first Miguel is surprised bcc he would’ve expected men and women to practically be hanging from you

Once he recovers from the initial shock he’s down with topping and showing you the ropes

It’s a bit of a boost to his ego, not to mention a massive turn on for him

He never lets you shy away from him/cover your face. He loves seeing you. He knows he’s not stronger than you but he’ll still pull your hands away/pull you closer

But sometimes he does wanna be on bottom

Queue very erotic teaching sessions

When you do something he likes he’ll definitely over exaggerate so you’ll know

He also loves marking you up in more…intense ways because he knows it won’t really hurt you

Clawing your back. He’ll claw the SHIT out of your back.

Biting you too. Sometimes he just can’t help it

He finds out you have god tier stamina and impecable recovery time and will definitely use that to his advantage

*cough cough* Overstimulation and denial *cough cough*

He’s down to do whatever you’re comfortable with but sometimes he really needs some stress relief i.e. getting a blowjob or just fucking you senseless

He won’t admit it but he likes when he’s the little spoon after you two are done

~Noir~

You got nervous and told him the first make out session that you had practically no experience

He was a little taken aback, again, you’re so big and so hot how could people not be lining up for a piece of you

It makes him feel even more lucky to be with you though

“Oh…that’s ok, dear. We’ll take it slow, then.”

Then he finds out your submissive too and he’s pretty sure he has a heart attack

Now he was pretty vanilla at first but then he found the internet and stumbled upon some kinks and did some…research

Behind. He loves seeing your back muscles move and twist under him

He likes tying your wrists together with some of his webbing

It’s strong enough that it could actually hold you if you tried resisting, maybe not for very long, but it wouldn’t snap like thread at the slightest pressure

He loves praising you. Praise. All the time. Always praise. You could breathe and he’d be on his knees for you

Every time he does something new he asks if you’re ok with it

He’ll be gentle if that’s what you want but he figures out that’s usually not the case

Usually you want everything he’s got, as much as he’ll provide you

He does love soft romantic nights with you though

Where he gets to enjoy your large beautiful frame and your contrasting shyness

When he gets to slow down and drink in ALL of you

The noises you make, the small movements, your incoherent mumbling

He loves ALL of it

He’s so down bad for you not even a joke

A little guilty pleasure for him is kissing you senseless

He loves being the big spoon for you, even if it just feels like a backpack is attached to you

[kairiscorner]

what if miguel and y/n switched bodies for a day bc of sum villain that put a spell on them or smth imagine how weirded out the hq would be to see miguel smiling and all cheerful just not being his usual self ����💀 and y/n being grumpy and petty

HFIREOGHRJTNVEIFBBREUFI BOO, I ... you have awoken my younger self's love for freaky friday (yeah i liked that movie as a kid BWAHHAHAHAHAH) anyway, I LOVE THAT

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

being in your shoes. — miguel o'hara x reader

"wow... i'm a fucking statue come to life." said miguel's awestruck voice with a chuckle following his statement of disbelief. he admired his palms, then his knuckles and the backs of his hands and arms—every vein and every curve, groove, and bump of his muscular arms were just a sight to behold; and the way his fists looked when clenched, and the way his fingers unfolded like the blooming petals of a flower... it was too much for your heart to handle, which, in this case, was technically his heart—anatomically speaking. as he admired the beauty of, well, himself–you went up to him with widened eyes, which quickly morphed into a scowl. "this is... humiliating." your own voice muttered in a low voice, almost as a growl, but miguel chuckled and ruffled your hair. "ooh," the big man let out a soft sound of curiosity at the discovery that he was practically twice your size.

he pressed his elbow down onto your head, making you–rather, miguel–grumble at this act of degradation and disrespect upon shorter people. "wow, y'know, i wouldn't blame you for doing this to me if we ever got back to normal. hell, i don't even want to go back to normal! have you seen this body?" you asked him aloud with a chuckle, his own chuckle that was hardly ever heard, reverberating out into the atmosphere and making the you inside of his body swoon. "stop laughing, it's not funny, this is a cause for concern." he said with your voice as he folded your arms over your chest and glared at you, instinctively pouting despite his lips not appearing as pouty on purpose anymore.

"oh, shit, you do pout?" you asked him with a chuckle that made you giggle internally. miguel didn't appreciate how you abused his laugh so much that he grumbled and turned on his heel–in this scenario, it was your heel–and stormed out of his office as you remained there; admiring his wonderful body and flexing, asking lyla to take pictures of this rare moment when the photo shots of miguel are candid but also taken with such flare that you'd think he was crazy for agreeing to this–the miguel o'hara everyone knew was... nothing like this.

as you walked down the halls in a pink compression shirt and yoga volleyball shorts, as opposed to the usual spider suit miguel donned on every day–you smiled at everyone you met, even if they didn't greet you first–stunning and shocking everyone out of their minds. wide-eyed lenses and hung open mouths greeted you as you greeted them with a warm smile that nobody had ever witnessed before. it was like an silver lining had unexpectedly shown through as the eternal, dark and thunderous clouds tore the sky asunder and welcomed the first rays of sunshine that the spider society had sworn they saw before... on you. but that sunshine was replaced by a gray rainy day hovering over your head and furrowed eyebrows that didn't complement your soft, adorable, amicable face.

whenever anyone greeted you, with miguel in your body, he'd practically growl at them to a loud silence–he'd nod without even looking anybody's way, confusing everyone into thinking you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or something really bad had happened to you. as everyone went over to you, patting your shoulder, asking you if you're okay–he's scream in your higher pitched voice that you were just peachy.

everyone was astonished at how boldly angry and furious you were being, and at how boldly sweet and darling miguel was being today–everyone kept referencing that a freaky friday situation must've happened to you two, with only miguel in your body explaining that was exactly the situation, but they all laughed it off as a joke, since it came out of your mouth. "yeah, pequeña–oh, fuck, that sounds sexy–yeah, uh, chiquita–you're acting out of your mind right now, darl." "darl?!" your voice snarled in an angry, squeaky voice, making miguel chuckle and ruffle your hair again. "so sweet for me, chiquita." you said in miguel's voice, teasing him in your body as he grumbled.

oh, this was not gonna be fun for him, at all... but it was gonna be way, way too much fun for you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[slushycoookie]

Fooling Around

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 778

Content: Smut...kinda, you and Miguel basically have phone sex, Minors DNI!

Summary: Miguel gets bored during patrol so yall fool around.

A/N: Thought about this yesterday so I had to write a little something something

Miguel was bored.

He stood atop a high rise, overlooking Nueva York as Spider-Man. For the past week while patrolling the city, nothing happened. There was the occasional purse snatcher or a group of guys ganging up on someone in the alleyway. But no villain of the week. No drastic explosions or saving hostages from a burning building. Nothing.

Usually amid his boredom, he called you. Providing him the entertainment he needed before calling it a night. He worried if he was bothering you, but you quickly pushed away his doubts. So he called you.

“Hi Miggy.” You greeted in a pleasing tone that made him smile. “Patrol boring you again today?”

Miguel scoffed, “No. I can't call the person I adore and admire in my life?”

“I didn't say that. You know I like it when you call.”

His heart jumped, doing his best to keep his calm demeanor. “So? What are you doing?”

“Just got out of the shower.” You casually said. “Like I just put on a towel when you called.” 

He closed his eyes to envision you in a towel. Body still wet, skin soft, and smelling oh so good. “You showered without me?”

“Mm I'm not waiting until midnight to shower with you.”

“Last time, I came home around 11.”

“Oh wow, an hour difference!”

The entire time, Miguel was swinging around, enjoying the back-and-forth banter. He stuck his claws into another building while looking at his city again. He couldn’t stop thinking about you getting out of the shower. “Are you…still in your towel?”

Silence was on the other side. He bit his lip, not knowing why that slipped through his lips. 

“Yeah.” He let out a breath he was holding in. “Why you wanna know, hm?”

“Because I want to take it off.” Miguel bluntly said. He turned inward to the building, making sure no one had a clear view to see what he was about to do. It didn't take much for him to get hard at the thought of your naked body. 

“Do you now?” Your voice oozed with flirtation while you shifted through the call. “Aren't you supposed to be patrolling right now?”

“I am. I'm still paying attention.”

“Uh huh.”

Miguel sighed, “I'd rather go home and run my fingers down your spine. Kissing you like you deserve.”

“Mmm…” His body formed goosebumps at the mellow sound. Soon his hand went lower, palming himself. “And then what?”

“I'd kiss that wonderful neck of yours while running my thumbs over your nipples…But since I'm not there, can you do that for me, cariño?”

“Okay…” He imagined you pinching the nub, circling your fingers around them with ease. With a few button presses to his watch, he unsheathed his cock, giving it a few strokes. 

“Good. You're always so good for me, baby.” He shuddered at your desperate sounds, running his thumb along the tip to gather some pre cum.

“Mig…” You pleaded amongst your sighs, “Come home…”

“Not yet. Spider-Man still has a job to do.” He pressed his head against the wall, fighting the urge to go against his word. He did want to go home and fuck you into your shared bed. But he didn't want to neglect his duties. “Since you're so desperate for me, I'll make sure you come,  okay?” You made a noise in agreement, but he wanted to really hear you. “Use your words.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Now, touch yourself for me.”

He groaned at hearing you pleasuring yourself for him. Touching yourself as if he was doing it. Moaning for him as if he was doing it. He loved it. Loved you. He stroked himself while he listened, claws deep in the building as he held on tight. 

“Fuck…Miguel…” 

He rolled his eyes back when his name escaped your lips. “Hm? You getting close for me?”

“Yes…”

“Do it. I'll put you on speaker so the whole city can know who you're crying out for.” He did just that, thrusting his hips in his hand as he was close himself. You almost screaming for him was going to tip him over the edge. And he was ready for it.

A loud explosion was heard a few blocks away, the sound of people screaming and running for their lives. 

“Miguel? What was that?”

He put his head upwards to the sky, holding back the loudest sound of annoyance he could muster. God was not being kind to him right now. “Got to go. Sorry.”

“It's okay. Be safe.”

“I will.” 

Hanging up, he quickly swung to the scene. Whoever decided to mess with his fun time with you was going to get it.

[cxsmicbaby]

something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES 

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.” 

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer. 

“And I realized. I���m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears. 

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy. 

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. 

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily. 

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure. 

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel. 

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it. 

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely. 

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?” 

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me. 

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go. 

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school. 

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me. 

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place. 

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.” 

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform. 

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.” 

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them. 

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.” 

I smile. “You know I am.” 

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks. 

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules. 

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it. 

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically. 

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person. 

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.” 

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!” 

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?” 

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason. 

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it. 

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.” 

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby. 

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing. 

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same. 

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me. 

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now. 

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me. 

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.” 

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall. 

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing. 

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head. 

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.” 

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real. 

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.” 

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!” 

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head. 

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.” 

                                                       𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?” 

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you. 

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does. 

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it. 

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away. 

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.” 

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown. 

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never. 

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling. 

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it. 

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.” 

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave. 

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave. 

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself. 

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed. 

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.  

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time. 

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for. 

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected. 

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.  

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him. 

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it. 

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be. 

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy. 

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry. 

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place. 

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you. 

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him. 

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him. 

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice. 

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing. 

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you. 

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away. 

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough. 

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him. 

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan. 

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself. 

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower. 

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are. 

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO

[feyhunter78]

Chapter One - A dance between mortality and desire, between that which you already know and the seductive lure of the unknown in the shadows of the morgue. Miguel, your new coworker, has this irresistible pull and seems to have set his sights on you. You try to stay professional, stay strong, but sooner or later you know you’re bound to fall. A fic in which vampire Miguel has found his lost love (you) once more, and he won’t let anyone, or anything stop him from reclaiming you.

Ch 2

There’s something strange about your coworker, Miguel. Maybe it’s how comfortable he seems to be with the late hours, or how he never seems to eat? At least not where you can see him eating, not that you’ve been watching him, waiting to see if he eats, and yes, the morgue is not really the place to eat, it’s entirely unsanitary, but in the break room? That’s fair game.

All he seems to do is work, drink those weird power shakes he’s so possessive over, and work out? He’s got to work out, there’s no other explanation for why he’s so built.

“Y/N, you need any help with that cadaver?” Miguel asks, a brilliant smile aimed your way, he’s dazzling, teeth straight as a military cemetery, white enough to blind you and his lips...they’re perfect, like unfairly perfect.

He’s handsome, and he knows it. A ladies man, the city mortician office’s Don Juan. You still can’t get over how you caught him and Cheryl from accounting, necking behind the building. Well, almost caught him, you heard the sounds they were making and all but sprinted to your car, face burning. And if your subconscious replaced Cheryl with you while you slept that night, then that was nobody’s business.

“No, no, I’m almost done, just wrapping up my notes.” You tell him, waving your voice recorder in the air, the standard one that the city gives every mortician. The one that annoying ass Dave always breaks, which means every project you work on with him takes twice as long because you have to wait for him to type up and submit his notes manually.

“We’ve got it, Manuel, no worries.” Dave says, the deliberate mispronunciation of Miguel’s name makes you cringe, but Miguel doesn’t even flinch, merely nods and heads back into the hall.

“You know his name is Miguel, right?” You know Dave knows, but you remind him anyways.

“Miguel, Manuel, same difference,” Dave says, brushing you off. “He thinks he’s so great just because all the normies fawn all over him.”

Normies aka everyone not tasked with cutting open dead bodies for a living.

“He’s nice, and he does good work,” You say briskly, finishing up your notes and zipping the body bag back up. “Put this one back in the freezer, yeah?”

“Why are you defending him, you got a crush or something?” Dave asks, leaning onto the slab, wriggling his eyebrows.

“No, I just don’t want to be called as a witness when you get hit with a discrimination lawsuit.” You drawl, clicking off your recorder and slipping it in your lab pocket.

Dave holds up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, hey, hey, I’m not being racist or anything, I’m just hazing the new guy.”

“Since when do we haze?” You snort, locking the freezer once Dave slides the body back in.

“Since we started hiring pretty boys.”

“Oh, so you think he’s pretty. You sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

Dave makes a fake gagging sound. “Excuse you, I am loyal to my wife.”

“That poor woman.”

“Hey fuck you, y/n,” Dave sputters.

You laugh and pat his shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m sure you and your wife are very happy together.”

“We are, thank you. It’s actually our anniversary next week, fifteen years.”

You’re taken aback. You knew Dave was married, but you didn’t think he’d be married for that long. “Wow, that’s amazing, seriously, congratulations.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, showing you dozens upon dozens of smiling photos of him and his family. “Thank you, thank you, I’m a lucky man. Wait, don’t you have a boyfriend? How long have you two been together?”

Oh yeah, your boyfriend… “Oh, umm, like almost a year.”

“Hey, that’s not too bad,” Dave smiles.

You cringe internally. Almost a year of feeling like maybe your boyfriend doesn’t actually like you, compounded by your fear of being alone, driving you to do whatever it took to keep him. “Yeah, yeah, he’s great.”

A loud crash, the sound of metal crashing to the floor, and a low swear draws your attention.

You and Dave rush out into the hallway to see Miguel trying to lift a massive filing cabinet up from the floor. It’s dented on one side, almost the size of a…fist?

“Miguel, shit man, what happened?” Dave asks, hurrying over to his side and helping him lift the cabinet back to its rightful place against the wall.

Miguel’s eyebrows are furrowed, his hair disheveled, the sleeves of his lab coat rolled up exposing his forearms, his large hands flexing and unflexing. “I—I don’t know, I was walking down the hall, and it just fell, nearly broke my foot.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurt.” You tell him, searching the bottom of the cabinet for any loose parts or crooked corners that might’ve contributed to the crash.

He smiles at you, that Don Juan, panty melting smile, his warm brown eyes focused solely on you, as if you’re the only person in the world, the only one worth paying any attention to. “I’m just glad it was me and not you—or Dave, I wouldn’t want either of you getting hurt.”

“Aw, Manuel, you care about us,” Dave teases, going right back to his hazing.

“We’re a team,” Miguel says simply, rolling his shoulders back.

For a moment you wonder what his back muscles look like underneath his coat, his shirts always seem so tight. Do they ripple under the fabric, is it stretched taut, his back droolworthy and broad?

“A team that’s finally heading home, isn’t that right, y/n?” Dave’s arm landing across your shoulders brings you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah, closing time,” you say, hoping you weren’t blatantly staring at Miguel’s back.

“You two go ahead, I have some things I need to finish up.” Miguel says, waving you both off as he heads back to his office.

You drive home in the dark, warm streetlights lining the street, soft music playing from the stereo. Miguel never left with everyone else, he always stayed late, and was always there early, like before the sun got up early. You did not envy his sleep schedule.

Digging through your purse, you fish out your keys and unlock your apartment door, flicking on the lights and sighing happily. There’s nothing like finally getting home after a long day and just getting to relax. Nudging off your shoes, you go to heat up some leftovers, letting the mindless reality TV shows keep you semi-entertained until you feel sleep tugging at your limbs.

You go through the motions, shower, skincare, pajamas, make sure all the doors are locked, turn down the air conditioning, and turn off the lights. Settling into your bed, you toss and turn, that fist shaped dent in the filing cabinet still bothering you. Did you need to call maintenance, or file a complaint with the city to let them know? It’s not like they’d give your department a new cabinet just because it was a little damaged, but still, at least you can say you tried.

Finally, you begin to drift off to sleep, breathing evening out, your heart rate slowing, the stress of the day melting away. Your dreams come quickly, cotton candy sweet and nonsensical, until a familiar figure appears.

Miguel’s hand caresses your cheek, his voice low, murmuring something in a language you don’t understand. He pulls you closer, and you can feel the press of his skin against yours, the toned muscles beneath your touch.

“Mi tesoro, tócame.” Miguel whispers, taking your hand in his and sliding it down, down, down his chest, stopping at his waistband, the fabric soft, his skin burning. Trsl: My treasure, touch me.

You take hold of the waistband, fingers slipping beneath it, as Miguel dips his head down trailing his nose up your neck, inhaling deeply before groaning, his free hand a vice grip on your hip.

“Touch me.” He breathes, his lips against your ear, his hand guiding your lower, more smooth flesh meeting your fingertips.

You want to, you want to explore Miguel, to find out if the rumors are true, but a shrill ringing draws your attention away.

“Te quiero y/n, no dejes que otros me roben tu atención.” Miguel pleads, his voice low and desperate, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. Trsl: I want you, y/n, don’t let others steal your attention away from me.

But the ringing won’t stop, and soon you’re jolting awake, alarm clock blaring, the sun streaming in through your blinds.

You throw off your covers, cringing at the sticky wetness between your legs. Really y/n? That’s what gets you going?

After eating breakfast and getting ready for the day, you check your phone, a few texts from your friends, some work emails, and a voicemail from Todd.

Hey babe, so I’m out at this bar right, and the drinks are fucking great, but I was talking to these girls about our issues, you know your whole not really enjoying sex thing? And they gave me some great advice, I want to try it out next time, so tomorrow night I’ll be at your place, get that couch ready, we’re going to tear it up.

He talked to other girls about your relationship? About your intimacy issues? What the fuck? You start to type out an angry text message but delete it halfway through. He’s trying at least, and you did ask him to try.

Maybe you should just hear him out on this, maybe those girls gave him actual advice like: “stop violently rubbing her labia thinking it’s her clit or listen when she tells you where her clit actually is, or maybe don’t be a dick and just give up once you’ve finished, your girlfriend deserves to get off too.”

You type out a neutral response and send it, before tossing your phone in your bag and setting out for work.

This fic was inspired by @sassyposssumm's kinktober request which was such an interesting prompt that I knew it needed to be expanded on! Also since this is a vampire fic there will be some instances of slight dubcon, I'll put warning in the beginning for those chapters with *slight* details in case anyone is uncomfy and wants to skip.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[phyrestartr]

Easy Prey (An Underestimation) | Miguel x M!Reader

Brother's BFF Miguel! x Male!Reader W/C: 3.2k

#NSFW, college party, cringe dirty talk, butt plugs, bussy loading, alcohol usage, pot usage, vaping, reader is a little shit, miguel gets got, fluff, it's kinda cute tho, consensual sex, car sex

--

"Who is that?" Miguel asked over the howl of party-goers and blasted music. He held his shitty beer in one hand, and a weird concoction of juice, something and…something suspicious in his other hand. Lyla really knew how to embody college in her get-togethers. 

Sebastian glanced at who Miguel gestured to with the tilt of a chin, and he burst into drunken laughter. 

"Dude. No. Nooo no no, nope. That's–nope," he answered, very helpfully. "Just very no." 

Miguel rolled his eyes as his best friend's girl kissed her man, and stole away Miguel's chance of learning just who the alt weirdo lounging on the couch was. Christ, people in love were so fucking annoying. 

"Why, what's his baggage? Drug dealer? Academic dishonesty?" Miguel took a deep drink from the red solo cup and grimaced. "Fuck, what the hell is in this?" 

Sebastian let his girlfriend kiss his neck as he finally gave Miguel an answer. "That's my little brother, dipshit. You remember (Name)? I've only mentioned him like a thousand billion times." 

"Huh." Miguel sipped his beer this time. 

(Name). 

Yeah. Through the haze of booze and the boom of the bass, Miguel did recognize that name. He didn't know you had such a pretty face, though. 

Seb smacked his friend's shoulder. "He's sooo off-limits, dude, so off-limits." 

Miguel scoffed, brandishing an arrogant smirk on his handsome face. "Says who?" 

"Says me, you fucking whore–you're not going to stick your horse dick in my baby brother, you got that?" And he sounded serious, but Miguel didn't really care much. "Hey, hey, if you fuck him, I'm gonna rip your cock off and shove it up your ass and then light you on fire, Miguel. I'm so fucking serious."

"Baby," Seb's girl cooed, "why don't we go wind down a little, huh? I think you need to lay down and cool off." 

"Yeah, go lay down, Sebby," Miguel chided.

"I–but I–okay, I'm gonna go do a 'lil nappy nap," he started, letting his girl drag him away from his arch nemesis, "but when I come back, you better've not cum in my brother, you hear me, O'hara?" 

"Bye bye, sweet dreams," Miguel called instead of answering. He downed the cursed solo drink as soon as Sebastian was spirited away and made his way over to you. 

Miguel more or less brute forced his spot on the couch next to you, pushing between you and some other guy that was getting too handsy with his prey. The other guy threw half-assed complaints and curses at Miguel, but one simple condescending glance had him backing off. Hah. So weak. 

"Woah, you really just–just made a spot for yourself, hey?" You said, earning his attention back. "Kinda hot. Really hot. You're hot." 

Miguel smirked as he looked you over. He liked the sound of your voice, and the lazy, relaxed gaze you met him with. Normally, he didn't go for the softcore scene type, but the black nails suited you, as did the ring showcasing your septum. 

"Couldn't ignore a damsel in distress," Miguel leaned in to say before he slipped his arm along the back of the couch. "I'm Miguel. Miguel O'hara." 

"Cool. You fuck guys?" You licked your lips and, oh god, was that the gleam of a tongue stud he saw?

Excitement bubbled in Miguel's gut. "Straight to the point, huh? I like that." He finished off his beer and set the can down to focus on you. "I fuck anyone with a pretty face."

"Oh. Wow. Damn." He watched your leisurely fingers touch all up and down his body. The firm pushes and soft pinches were left in the right places, like you'd done this before to other men. Miguel figured he was probably the best specimen you'd ever laid eyes on.

And then you kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, it did feel natural, like you'd been dating for years and had done this a million times before, but still drowned in the excitement of one another. 

Miguel anchored one hand to your waist while the other freely travelled from your shoulder to your neck to the side of your face. He jolted when your fidgety hand slid down to his clothed cock and gave a hearty squeeze. Damn, you really were straight to the point. 

But the way you kissed was another story--you took your time, licking deep into his mouth and prodding behind every tooth to commit Miguel's mouth to memory. You made the sweetest noises, too, reacting to however Miguel decided to taste along the top of your mouth, how he bit your tongue lightly to stop it from leaving him. It'd been so long since Miguel had a partner like you. 

"Let's take this somewhere else," Miguel whispered into your skin while his hands started to wander to your hips, your waist, your legs. "Unless you're an exhibitionist freak." 

"Woooah, you'd fuck me right here if I wanted? And they say chivalry is dead." Miguel laughed something genuine, only cutting off when you kissed him. "But no, no, I like gettin' messy in privacy." 

"Then let's get messy."

Miguel picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder. The choked half-laugh, half-squawk you let out earned you a sharp slap on the ass as he stole you away to eat you whole, like a jaguar dragging its kill up into a tree for a little privacy. 

He could navigate Lyla's house easily, expertly dodging the flailing limbs and spilling drinks of party-goers as he searched for somewhere quiet to take his prize. But every room he checked had its own lust-crazed college students busy fucking or about to get things started. 

You piped up from your spot on Miguel's shoulder, though, suggesting the perfect place to fuck: your truck. 

"Pretty big," Miguel commented as you both rushed to fold down the back seats to make more room for playtime. 

"Mmmn, I like big." You slammed the boot closed before shuffling back to him. "Bigger is better." 

Miguel grinned wolfishly before pinning you down. "Glad you understand." 

You helped him pull everything off of you from the waist down before you yanked him back in for another sloppy, drunken kiss. His hands, broad and calloused from years of lifting weights, felt up every inch of exposed skin, from your waist, to your thighs, to the powerful curve of your calves, and back up again. Admittedly, he didn't expect you to be in-shape. You weren't built like your brother, a buff, tall meathead; you were built more like a runner: slim, toned, agile.

"Wait, wait, wait," you gasped when Miguel's kisses started migrating lower and lower. The man looked up at you, brow quirked, impatience tugging down the corner of his mouth. "I wanna–" 

"Nope," Miguel cut in.

"Whaaat? I just–'M not allowed to feel you up–? I wanna see your muscles," you whined.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Don't care."

Miguel ignored your drunken complaints while he focused on getting you prepped and ready for his own satisfaction. Sure, he liked letting his prizes fawn over him, obsess over his muscles and leave feverish touches on his tawny skin, but time was of the essence; who knew when your brother would roll up and ruin things? 

He leaned back up and stuck his fingers into your mouth for a few, rude thrusts before yanking them out and easing your legs open so–oh. 

A twinkling, pink, heart-cut gem winked at him in greeting, and a jolt of excitement went straight to Miguel's straining cock. He swallowed as he watched it flicker and gleam with every little shift of your impatient hips. Part of him wanted to leave it in. But the worse side of him wanted to yank it out, and give it something to hold in. 

"What's this?" He asked, patronizingly as he gave the plug a bit of a tug. "Guess you are a freak, huh?" Miguel asked in a rich, smokey tone. 

But instead of getting embarrassed and shrinking away like he expected, you just wiggled your ass tauntingly. 

"'S a buttplug," you said matter-of-factly. "Wanted to get laid t'night." You reached your mischievous hand down between your legs and drummed two fingers against the crystalline base. "Stuffed lube in first. Makes hookin' up fast 'n easy," you explained as you gripped the heart and started to tease the plug free. Miguel's hand caught your wrist before you could get very far. 

"And people call me a degenerate," he laughed. Miguel pulled your hand away and took over, watching with rapt attention as the silvered metal plug started to emerge. "But you're just…somethin' else." 

You mewled softly and your thighs tensed the slightest bit when the plug slipped out before a generous amount of lube oozed from your emptied hole. Miguel eagerly scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back inside. Knowing him and his size, he'd need every last drop. 

"People call you a degenerate?" You said through a snorted laugh. "Why? You're like–you're so–" you gasped in the same way a 90's horror final girl would when you caught sight of The Thing being pulled from Miguel's pants, "--b-big. Wow. Big. Can I take a pic?" 

"What? What do you–can you–no, Christ." He sighed as he stroked himself with your slick and didn't waste much time with foreplay or warming up before mounting you again. "Think you might be worse than me after all, you know that?" 

"Probably am." You squirmed a little under his body as he caged you in, his thick arms bracing on either side of your head, and his hard, heavy chest looming above you as he got his massive frame comfortable in the trunk of your truck. It was insane to think that, even with the seats down and nothing in the way, Miguel still almost didn't fit. Part of you kind of thought he might weigh more than the car, too. Hm. 

But finally, finally, Miguel dragged the hot tip of his cock against your soft, pliant entrance before jamming himself inside with a blissed-out sigh. 

"Fuck," he breathed before pulling out the slightest bit and pressing in deeper again, and again, and again, until he bottomed out. His nerves flared when your hand slipped down to your own weeping length and stroked yourself, selfishly chasing your high with no regard for Miguel. 

He scoffed, and bitterly refused to hold back. The pace started off brutal and fast, Miguel using you the same way you were using him. Annoyance fuelled his tempo. He didn't know why your lack of giving a shit aggravated him, but it did. And he didn't like it. 

But when he finally got a breathy, thin gasp out of you, he smirked. 

"Oh? Finally something out of you. Tch." He folded you in half and hiked your legs over his solid shoulders to drill into you harder. Another small sigh fuelled his ego. "You like that, huh? You like being bent up, outta sorts, fucked by a stranger at a party, huh? That get you off?" 

The ladies always crumpled under his heinous words and dirty talking; their expressions warped into something pathetic and embarrassed, they'd make the worst discount pornstar noises, or they'd cum right on the spot. It was a great thing, a beautiful thing, something that Miguel prided himself with quite a bit. 

So why were you shaking with bottled laughter? 

Miguel's eye twitched. "What's so funny?" 

"Y-you just–you talk like you watch too much porn–! I'm just s-saying, man, this is kinda wild." A confusing mix of laughs and gasps punched out of your lungs as your back started to arch. "I-It's making it hard to cum–" 

"Shut up, just shut up–you're making me regret this," Miguel bit out, trying to hasten his pace to finish up and leave you in the dust. "I didn't know you were so fucking annoying." 

You moaned sweetly as he nailed that sweet spot of yours perfectly, before never hitting it again. "Awe, boo hoo, gonna cry 'cause I think your dirty talk's cringe? Life is sooo hard–" you squeaked as he pulled back and out abruptly. Your legs clattered to the ground and you barked out another hyena laugh as Miguel moved to tuck himself away with the most unreal sour expression you'd ever seen. 

"Hey, hey, hey, don't give up," you cooed. "Come on, you know you wanna finish the job. I'm so submissive." 

"I fucking can't with that fucking annoying fucking mouth of yours," Miguel grumbled before spitting bars of Spanish at you. 

Feeling a rush of energy, you tackled him as well as you could in your truck, and managed to wrestle that hulk onto his back. He was glaring at you when you finally managed to straddle him, but in a sort of embarrassed-mad way, not a real pissed off look. Still, you had to test the waters. 

"Off," Miguel said. 

"Woah, woah, woah, I can do the whole dirty talk thing if you want," you bartered. 

"No. Off." 

"Come on," you whined before leaning down to his ear and dropping your voice down into a dripping dark chocolate, "you're such a good boy, Miguel, let me treat you right." 

And with a greedy little wriggle of your hips against his stiffy, Miguel was doomed. 

"Fucking–fine, you little–" but he couldn't finish that thought, not when he suddenly found himself plunged back into your tight heat. 

"Bah, come on," you prodded as you rocked your hips at a selfish, primal pace. "Say it if it gets you off." 

With a mind of their own, Miguel's hips jolted up to meet your downwards momentum, and a near animalistic cry hoarsely tore through your throat. And once again, Miguel couldn't help the jerk of his pelvis grinding up against you–you were proving to be too much. 

"Fuck," you gasped. You stroked yourself again, now faster and with the broken tempo of your chaotic coupling. "You like being dominated? That it? Told what to do 'n then get some praise for being so, so good?" The laugh you let out could only be labelled evil. "Mmmn, that's hot." 

But Miguel couldn't speak, not through his mind blanking bright white every time your bodies crashed together. Even when he tried to speak, only gasps and pathetic moans and pleas slipped out of him, suddenly begging you to fuck him harder, to make him finish, to let him cum inside of you and mark you as taken for the night. Reality felt so far away and numb, even when he knocked his head against the ground as he came.

You felt his nails bite your sides as liquid heat filled in the space where Miguel couldn't reach. Miguel's teeth clenched together with an audible clack as you laughed at him, riding him for all he was worth, using him past the point of over stimulation without a care in the world. 

"Shit," you moaned quietly, then chanted it over and over, breathing faster and harder as you pushed yourself towards the edge. But you were a little shit, so of course you scrambled to push up Miguel's shirt just before you finished, just in time to streak sticky white webs of cum onto those well-defined abs of his. 

Miguel finally caught a break. He held you in a vice grip, not trusting you to behave while you both calmed down and fought to steady your breathing. Your fingers trailed across his stomach and abdomen, tracing the dips and curves of hardwork and dedication, and also smearing trails of your spend on him. 

"I've decided. I hate you. So, so much," Miguel said. He let his eyes fall closed again as he accepted his fate. 

You laughed, more amused and playful than mean and mocking this time, and drummed your fingers against his sticky skin. "Yeah. Fair. Kudos to you for being a good sport, though." You paused for a moment. "Wanna get high?" 

"Yes." 

Shockingly, you were quite good with the aftercare; you took it upon yourself to clean the both of you up with a plethora of wet wipes, paying special attention to the mess you'd made on Miguel's stomach and leaving no trace behind on him. As for yourself, you stuffed the silver plug back into your ass and called it a day, only really needing to clean up any sin that'd escaped your insides. 

You both more or less got dressed, and then you hit the vape. Miguel wasn't a stranger to Mary J, but he didn't often vape. He was used to messy blunts rolled by idiots like your brother, but admittedly, he kind of liked this more. 

"It's not bad," Miguel remarked as he examined the silvery pen. "Lot less…y’know." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get what you mean." You stretched languidly across Miguel's lap, and plucked the pen from his fingers. You took a deep, lazy drag while your newfound friend exhaled a cloud of vapor. "Smoke works better for hot boxing, though. Blunts do, I mean." 

Miguel hummed, lost in the haze of his thoughts, warmed by the buzzing in the back of his skull and your weight across his lap. His fingertips dipped beneath your clothes, absent-mindedly seeking comfort in the heat of your body in his lap. His broad palm pressed flat against your stomach, and you rested your smaller hand over his. 

"You think the, uh, the chick who owns this place is gonna freak if I crash here?" You asked before crafting a few smoke rings. "'M toootally fucked up. Driving's a no-no." 

"Lyla won't care," Miguel said with a yawn. "She's a witch, but not a psycho bitch." 

"Hah. You know her?" 

"She's basically my sister. Unfortunately." Miguel huffed and shook his head.

"Oh, cool, cool. She's fire. Like her. Really chill, but in, like, a smart way," you rambled. 

"Pretty good way to put it." Miguel smiled. 

"Yeah? Yeah. I'm kinda smart sometimes, too. Not super smart, but, y'know, selectively smart." You nodded and stretched again with a yawn. "That's how I bag hot guys. Like you, I guess. But this was more fun. You're more fun 'n a better sport than most guys I mess with." 

Miguel stared at the foggy windows. Fun. That's what he was thinking, too. He never had the chance to smoke a joint or indulge in aftercare with most of his one night stands, but it's not like he'd gone out of his way to make that happen, either. He'd never really had a partner mock him either, though. You were kinda weird. But in a good, fun way. 

"Yeah. I had fun," Miguel admitted. When his eyes slid back to you, you were grinning, and a sweet dusting of strawberry powder lit up your soft cheeks. Miguel couldn't help his own smile. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"Oh. Cool, cool." 

"Wanna go out with me?" The question caught Miguel by surprise, too. He didn't really commit to people. He didn't really become exclusive with people. But hey, people changed. 

You fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Mmn, what's in it for me?" 

"Bragging rights." Miguel smirked. "You know how many people want me?" 

"Hmm." 

He huffed, now, your skepticism doing a number on his ego. "I–well what do–you'd get dick, big dick, get chauffeured around, I'd pay for dates–" 

"Would you go see a musical with me if I asked?" 

Ah. The ultimate test. 

"...Yes." 

"'Kay. We're gonna go see Grease tomorrow night–uh, tonight. Technically." 

A grin split Miguel's face and ached his cheeks. "Alright." 

You smiled back. "Alright." 

"Just don't tell your brother." 

"Lame."

[hunterwritings]

bandages | miguel o'hara

summary: you love putting cute bandages on Miguel's scratches

warnings: small mention of blood | wc: 1100

notes: bubbly!reader :) | taglist: @heythere525 @whimsiecat @skeletonfromthecloset

requested by @heythere525 right here

"That took a lot longer than expected." You laughed as you walked next to Miguel, who only grunted in response. "Please don't tell me there's more work to do today." You groaned as you saw him walk over to observe something on a hologram.

"No, I'm just checking something." He replies.

"Thank god, I'm exhausted." You say, leaning your head against his side.

He turns off the hologram and wraps his arm around your side, softly rubbing up and down on your arm.

"Let's just go to bed now, I really doubt I can stay up much longer." You say, yawning and dramatically stretching your arms out.

"Maybe that's a good idea." He grumbles, turning to you.

"Wow, I don't even have to convince you. You must be really tired." You laughed, holding your hands on your hips. You swore you could see a smile on the edge of his lips as he sauntered towards you.

When he came closer to you, you could see that his face was a bit roughened up and he had a few cuts and scratches on his skin.

"No, you need a band aid or something. Leaving it open could get it infected." You said, walking past him and jumping down from the tall platform and swinging down to the ground. You walked over to a small box in the wall, hitting it open and grabbing a small lunch box out of it. You smiled as you saw the box and swung back up to where Miguel was standing.

"Oh Miguel, you have a cut on your nose." You say, reaching your hands up and cupping his face. You brought a finger up to the cut and wiped away a small amount of blood into your middle finger.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." He tries to brush it off.

"Good news, bad news." You smiled as you held the box in front of you as he stood in front of you, hands at his hips.

"I do have band aids, but they are Hello Kitty ones." You say, opening up the box and holding a box of bandages with a cartoon cat on the front.

"Oh my God, why don't we just buy normal bad aids?" He asks, holding his fingers between his eyes.

"What? Because these are cute!" You rhetorically reply.

"I really don't need a band aid-" He began saying but you shake your head as you grab his hand and lead his to his desk.

"Nope, can't back out of this one, big guy." You say, sitting him down in his chair as you hop up and sit on his desk.

"You don't have to keep it on long, just for the night, okay?" You add, opening the box with a smile.

You rip open one of the band aids and slowly pull back the paper on it to softly place on Miguel's nose, covering the obvious cut. "Aww, my boy is so cute!" You giggle, holding his face in your hands. He just grumbled and laid his large hands on top of yours. You smile widely as you lean forward and press a soft kiss against the band aid. The muscles on his face relax as his hands fall to your thighs and he closes his eyes.

"Don't act like you aren't enjoying this." He says with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, I'm definitely enjoying this." You smile genuinely and Miguel exhales as he smiles slightly.

"He Miguel! We have a quick question." Gwen said as she swung up to the platform, along with the other spider teens behind her. They all stop as Miguel snaps his head around to glare at them, you had to hold a hand to your mouth to contain your laughter.

"Oi, is that a Hello Kitty plaster on your nose?" Hobie snorts as he shakes his head. Miles and Pavitr snickered behind him.

"Get out of here!" Miguel yells.

"Don't worry kids, Miguel will get back to you soo. I've just got to patch him up a bit." You couldn't contain your laughter and chuckled as Miguel glanced back at you like you had betrayed him.

"Yeah, you got it." Gwen smirked as she tried pushing the rest of them back, laughs echoing from them as they leave.

Miguel turned back to you, eyebrows furrowed and a large frown on his face.

"This was all a plot by by you, wasn't it?" He says.

You held your stomach as you laugh and lean forward. "Oh my God, I wish I could take credit for that." You wiped tears of laughter from your eyes.

"I can't believe you'd do this to me." He sarcastically says as he gets up and turns away. "Aw c'mon! It was funny baby!" You say, jumping up from his desk and walking to him.

"Don't be embarrassed." You say.

"I'm not embarrassed." He grumbles.

"Oh really? Then why are you so upset?" You ask, tilting your head. He doesn't respond.

"It's not like they are going to say anything to anyone, I'm sure they're too scared of you to do that." You say, grabbing a hold of his hand and pulling to turn him to face you. "I still think you're adorable." You add, grabbing his face once again between your hands. He inhales deeply and exhales as he looks down at you.

"You don't have to keep the band aid on if you don't want." You add, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, I don't want it getting infected, y'know?" He smirks and you smile up at him widely. You jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. "I knew you liked it." You whispered before pressing your lips against his lips.

"I don't." He responds as he pulls away from your lips for a second. You roll your eyes before kissing him again.

He moved his arms from beneath your legs to rest on your sides. When he gripped your thighs, you winced and pulled away from him. Miguel's expression immediately switched as he set you down on your feet softly.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He quickly asks, his eyes scanning your entire body.

"Heh, I guess I got scratched up too." You say, turning to see a couple rips in the side of your suit with some cuts on your skin.

"Let's get you to the med bay." He says, bringing up his watch to alert people at the med bay.

"You think Hello Kitty will fix this?" You joke and Miguel actually laughs.

"No, I don't think she can."

[xxoxobree]

Episode 001

This is a collab between me and @hiimayee 🥰 hope you guys like our silly little “show” 🫶🏽

Pack your bags spider crew and join us on a all new season of Spiderverse: Reality Rift. Join us as we gather a diverse group of strangers? and drop them into a luxurious mansion. Will they get along ? Or will they tare reality apart ? Find out as we meet our cast.

Miles Morales.

Wassup everybody, I’m Miles Morales Brooklyns one and only Spider-Man and I’m excited to be here , it’s gonna be weird with all the cameras but. *shrugs* Hi mom if you’re watching this. How do I feel about being in a house with the other spiders? I just hope it’s a fun time.

Hobie Brown.

Wa Gwan fam, Names Hobie and I’m just here for the absolute madness that’s about to happen. I’m not into all the cameras and the fame but they asked me and reh teh teh I’m here. How do I feel about being in the house with other people? *laughs* should be fun innit ?

Miles G. Morales

Yuuuurrrrr!!!! It’s ya boy , I go by a lot of names but you, you can call me The Prowler and I’m here to turn this house up. I’m definitely here for all the cameras, mayne I’m Handsome as hell look at me *smiles*, besides that it wouldn’t be a show without me. How do I feel about being in a house with other people? I’m cool long as no one touch me or my stuff and that’s all imma say

Margo Kess:

"aight so what i'm understandin' is ima be livin with three hispanics, two of them deranged, and a snowbunny? wow. this is gonna be hella insteresting. but yk whats good, it's m-a-r-g to the o in the houseee! !!"

Miguel o'hara + Hobie brown + Lyla:

"my name is miguel o'hara. i am spiderman 2099-"

"cut allat fuckin bullshit, bruv!! no need to be so formal this reality tv. oi ladies, don't get so invested in this one, he's a li'le bit of a bitch and likes to throw tantrums around teenagers. sad its one of his hobbies, innit?"

"LYLA CAN YOU-"

"uh oh, here comes your assistant."

"its hobie, can't do nothin about it."

Gwen “The Snowbunny” Stacy.

"name's gwen stacy! uhh, don't know most of the people here but it should be interesting. plus. im getting a little bonus outta this 'cause i'm homeless and all. also i heard there's another miles? sounds pretty cool in my opinion!"

Will the Miles’ Get along ? Is Gwen really a snow bunny. why does Miguel throw tantrums around teenagers? Find out in the next episode of Spiderverse:Reality Rift.

[arachnoia]

mode ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | miguel o’hara

miguel o’hara x afab! reader

in which one of new york’s most famous models runs into an old acquaintance during a modeling gig.

had a lil drabble in mind so i wrote it!! thank you guys so so much for liking my last posts it means a lot!! tbh idk what this was but I was j writing. i’m open to write other characters but need ideas so pls drop some in my requests! formula 1 is also going to be continued v v soon!

thank you! 😪🙏🏼

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’ve always had aspirations of becoming a model, being on a billboard along with many celebrities you admired.

The posing, the glamour, the attention.

It was a dream you’ve always had, having an insatiable hunger for it.

You drank your chai in peace as you were just finished your Pilates class. You had a photoshoot later on to model some new brand that hit social media and exploded in popularity. It could help both your public images.

“Good morning, N/n!” Jess said, giving you a hug from behind.

Jess is your roommate and has been your best friend since your freshman year in high school. The both of you bonded over American pop culture, fashion, and the immense difficulty of your freshman physics class.

She had your back when you forgot the formula for net force and when you were having emotional turmoil over your crush on Miguel O’Hara.

Everyone knew about your crush on him because who would have a crush on the physics math geek?

You.

He was scrawny, quiet, a nerd, and no one knew who he was. Until people found out you liked him, which was obvious because you would get caught staring at him from across the lunchroom multiple times.

The two of you were polar opposites socially.

You weren’t popular, to say the least, but it’s not like people didn’t know who you are. There were a decent amount of people who liked you in high school, but you only had your eye on him.

Like Jess, he was also in your physics class freshman year and caught your eye.

He’s the reason why you wanted to do modeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was junior year in your AP Lang class and you two were doing peer reviews for an essay.

You two were in a library near your high school. It was quiet until he just blurted out: “You should consider modeling, Y/n.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden compliment, “What?”

He just shrugged and pushed up his square glasses. “I’m just saying that you’d look nice on a cover of a magazine. You look the type.”

“O-Oh…Thanks?”

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so awkward.

His face stayed as nonchalant as always, “Mhm.”

It was safe to say that there wasn’t a single word spoken after that.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Jess tied up her hair and stretched. “Do you need a ride? Isn’t the studio in Manhattan?”

You shook your head and sipped your chai, “Nope, it’s in Brooklyn. And it’s okay! I have some errands to run after the shoot if it won’t take long.”

“Alright, girl. What’s the guy’s name again? The guy that owns the brand.”

“I think his name's Gabriel?” You shrugged and took a bite out of your açaí bowl. Jess took a spoon and ate some too.

“Wow! You just take my breakfast huh?”

Jess giggled and ran back to her room, “Good luckkkk!”

You scoffed and smiled, “You bitch!”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You took the train to get to the studio and walked there.

It was a little apartment building that had some graffiti on the side of the wall. You liked how nice the graffiti was.

You went inside and knocked on the door for apartment 206.

You heard some clutter and a voice all of a sudden, “-Coming!”

The door opened to a young man, maybe in his 20s? Early 30s?

“Hi, my name is Gabriel! You’re Y/n Y/l/n? I’ve heard so much about you! You’re an amazing model. Your magazine shoot with Vogue was so nice!” he gushed.

His voice sounded really familiar but wasn’t at the same time.

“Oh thank you so much! Your brand is actually really nice! Thank you for reaching out! Can I come in?”

He rushed in and stood to the side of the door, “Of course! Come right in!”

The apartment was really nice and was a decent size. Not too big and small.

Some assistants were running around getting some clothes ready and preparing the violet backdrop with a silver desk that looked like something out of Star Wars.

You got into many different outfits which were really modern and motorsport-ish.

It reminded you of that futuristic streetwear style that’s growing these days, which was really fresh to see.

Gabriel popped in from the lounge area where you were already dressed to go home, “You did really good! Again thank you so much for coming! It’s going to do the brand so so well!”

You smiled and nodded, “Of course! It was nice meeting-“

You heard the door open and was interrupted by another voice, “Hey Gabri, you left your electronic watch at my place.”

Gabriel smiled and went over to claim his watch, punching the man in the arm, “Thanks Miggy!”

Your face twisted from a smile to a shocked expression.

“Oh! Y/n, meet my older brother, Miguel!” Gabriel said, pointing at his brother.

“Miggy, meet Y/n Y/l/n! She’s an awesome model who’s helping me promote my brand!”

He looked over to you and stared, “I’ve heard of who she is.”

You couldn’t help but have your jaw drop. Your eyes couldn’t believe it.

That scrawny, shy kid from high school was no more. He got replaced by a man with a body identical to a greek god’s, beautiful, luscious locks of chestnut hair, and gorgeous arms.

He still had his old square glasses which added charm to the rest of his outfit; a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants.

He made you feel like you were back in high school, crushing on him while he explained formulas to you.

“I said ‘hi’, Ms. Y/l/n,” he smiled, looking you up and down. You didn’t know if he was being judgmental or just observing.

“O-Oh! Hi!” You held at your hand to Miguel, who looked a slight bit amused and shook it.

“My brother here is a chemical engineer at this place, Alche-what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and laughed, “Alchemax. And it’s nice to meet you, miss.”

Gabriel smiled and checked his phone due to it ringing loudly, “Shoot! I have to pick up some fabric I ordered. It’s the last one they have! Migs, please lock up! Good bye, Ms. Y/l/n!”

Gabriel ran out the studio and threw the keys at Miguel, who caught them quickly.

Miguel looked back at you and smiled sarcastically, “Y’know, it would’ve been nice if you weren’t eye fucking me in front of my own brother, Ms. Y/l/n.”

You felt shivers down your spine.

The way your last name rolled off his tongue was so sexy, especially with that slight accent he’s always had.

You tried to say something so you wouldn’t look like a complete idiot in front of your high school crush, “E-Excuse me…?“

“You heard me, Y/n.”

Oh fuck.

“I b-believe you’re mistaken. I would never do that in a professional setting with someone I work with.”

You mentally cheered yourself on. You weren’t sounding like an idiot anymore.

You don’t think.

He hummed and shrugged, “I didn’t think I would see you working with my brother, yet here we are. How’s life been?”

What the fuck?

How could he be so calm and asking ‘how’s life?’ after accusing you for eyefucking him.

He wasn’t wrong but it’s embarrassing.

“It’s fine. So you work at Alchemax?”

“Yeah. We’re working on something right now, but I can’t tell you.” He started chuckling and folded his arms

God, how much you loved that in high school.

Even then, he would make every single little thing so sexy.

In high school, he looked like he had never experienced a touch of a woman.

But now…

“Why not?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s top secret, nena.”

You looked at him from the side of your eye and he locked eyes with you.

You couldn’t deny the rough tension in the room.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of ruby red, accentuated thanks to the blinding glare of the studio lights still being on.

Then you locked your eyes to his lips. They were so full and beautiful and you wanted to kiss them.

He smiled at you and was going to pull back from his leaning position before you wrapped your arms around his neck and connected your lips to his.

You’ve been waiting since freshman year to kiss him. Who could blame you?

What you didn’t expect is for him to kiss you back, more rough and passionate.

You felt him smile a bit, making you kiss him even more.

It didn’t take long for you and Miguel to walk towards the desk, where he broke from the kiss and pushed you against the desk, ass facing him.

You were still in disbelief that you were making out with your high school crush so suddenly, making your heart pound.

You were wearing one of your favorite outfits; a black corset top and a white lace skirt you stole from Jess.

You felt him rub your ass before he spanked it under your skirt, hearing him growl a bit. “Fuck…”

He leaned towards to kiss your cheek, feeling his hard bulge from his sweatpants. “Let me make you feel good, cariño.”

Did you mention you loved it when he spoke in Spanish? You loved it when he spoke in general.

You turned around and sat on the desk as you took off your top and slid down your skirt, leaving you in your panties.

He looked at you up and down again, now with underlying lust and darkness in his eyes, “I’ve been waiting to do this since high school.”

He roughly took his shirt off and also slid down his pants, leaving you to gawk at his stunningly toned body.

“Like what you see? Careful, mi bélla, you have something aquí,” he smirked as he caressed your face.

He placed his hand on your hip and played with the string of your underwear before ripping it apart with his (abnormally?) long nails.

“That’s better,” he said as he pulled the piece of clothing off of you. He took off his boxers and as soon as he did that, you kneeled down and started rubbing on his length.

“Let me make you feel good first.” You started grazing your lips on it and kissed his swollen tip, already oozing with precum.

You put him inside your mouth and he started to gently thrust as you started to suck.

“Yeah baby, you feel so fucking good-"

You felt like gagging, taking him all, thick, long, and veiny.

It didn’t take long for him to ejaculate in your mouth, having you swallow and some of his cum spilling on the sides of your mouth.

“God, you look so sexy like this,” he whispered, brushing some of your hair away from your face. You smiled up at him as he bit his lip.

He sat you on top of the desk, legs wide open.

He started to play with your clit and inserted two fingers almost immediatly to your already wet core.

"M-Miguel...fuck."

You whimpered quietly as he started to fingerfuck you fastly.

He chuckled darkly, "If you can't handle my fingers, then I'd like to see you handle my cock."

You laughed dryly and cried out as he went even faster.

Right as you were going to come, he stopped.

"Why did you do that," you slurred, feeling high on the sexual tension.

"Don't worry, just wait."

He whispered as he kept teasing your poor clit and started to pump his dick.

"Shhhhh" he muttered as he started to insert himself inch by inch, “Estas haciendo bien, mi linda. AY DIOS-"

Your eyes widened at how much he stretched you out, and it was barely the tip. "Oh fuck, Miguel-"

"D-Don't worry, baby. You're doing good..."

You scratched at his back as you bounced again and again. "O-Oh my fucking god..."

You felt like you were in a porn movie with how loud your moans and how bright the studio lights were, accentuating every crease and muscle on Miguel’s hot body.

You couldn’t help but stare as he mindlessly rearranges your organs fucking you.

You started to hold on to his arms as he went at a violent pace.

“A-Alchemax must stress the living shit out of you, h-huh? F-FUCK!”

He smiled a bit as he went a little faster, “You can’t...imagine. Estos pinche- PUTA MADRÉ-"

You felt him twitch inside of you and release, filling you up to the brim as you released your high as well.

"Oh s-shit..."

You mumbled before covering your face, turning over to hide your face and just bent over.

He kissed your exhausted body on the desk, all sweaty and hot from your tiring activities from earlier.

As he dressed up again, he couldn’t help but stare at his masterpiece; having Y/n Y/l/n, one of New York’s most respected models, in such a slutted out position.

Bent over and trembling, filled up to the rim with his cum.

Although he was a chemical engineer at such a highly respected place such as Alchemax, he couldn't help but feel proud that he had you like this.

Just for him.