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lolita-lollipop · 1 year ago

Note

Platonic yandere Miguel? You're an alt universe version of his daughter that he's taken in (aka kidnapped) so that he'll never lose her again, poor traumatized sod just wants a family again

Spiderweb

YANDERE MIGUEL O’HARA X READER

Preview:

When anomalies begin to enter universe 20477, Miguel is assigned to tracking them down. He wasn’t expecting to see himself, with a girl like you, scared and wide eyed on his arm. You were his, you just had to be.

(Platonic)

He knew what you would be to him.

He knew who you were.

He knew he had to protect you.

He knew he wouldnt let you go.

He couldn't.

It was purely coincidental, seeing you, that is. He just happened to be in your plane of existence that day, chasing down an anomaly that was jumping from universe to universe every other day. None of the others were able to catch him, a fast fujjer he was. So Miguel was a last resort, the only one capable enough to catch the guy. There was a chase down the streets of whatever universe he was in, then a catastrophic fight near the center of the city.

This place was so similar to his own universe, The same skies, the same cities, the same feeling, the same sadness as his own realm. He wanted to get in and get out, that's all. In fact, he was moments- seconds even- seconds away from catching the anomaly, seconds away from leaving this sad awful reminder of what happened to him. And then he saw you and his world stopped in its tracks.

You were teary-eyed, crying like a little baby. A few pieces of concrete that had been knocked up from the ground during the fight had cut your cheek, leaving a small dribble of blood streaming down your face. There was such a fear laced in your eyes, such a terror that flooded your expression. But that wasn't what shocked him about you, as his eyes panned from you to the man you had your arms wrapped around, his face fell completely.

You were clutching onto him. HIM. Miguel o’hara. You had your arms wrapped around his, clutched tight in fear, the two of you were trapped against the side of a building with rubble that had eroded. He was him, you were holding onto him, you had to be his daughter, and the way you were looking to him for protection was enough to show the parental status he had.

He had a daughter again.

You were his daughter.

He stared at the sight of the two of you for a moment, sending a harsh glare to his copy, his fake. Whoever you were clinging to, whoever you were wrapped around, he couldn't protect you. Miguel wanted nothing more than to pull you up and take you with him, take you home. But he couldn't, he had to play this carefully. He's lost a daughter before, he wouldnt do this again.

Like a flash, the tall man dressed in a black and red suit disappeared completely, along with the anomaly. Leaving the Town square In rubble. You blinked, just once, and when you opened your eyes once more, you had been pulled out from the bone-crushing concrete and were laid across the grass. It was too fast for you to see the man who had done it, to see the way his hands lingered at your waist, to see how he swiped the blood off of your face, to see how he looked at you. Of course, you hadn't. Maybe if you had, you could've avoided this.

---

You were shaken, to say the least. Things like this, like supervillains flying through the air and shattering buildings and corroding concrete, throwing people around like frisbees. Things like this just didn't happen, not ever. So to be trapped like that, stuck in rubble covered in blood as you had to watch the scene unfold… You were terrified. Even more so when your father had been hurt.

It was fast for the two of you to get away from the scene, especially since whatever was happening screeched to a halt, and the two figures disappeared, leaving the police, and you, completely confused. You just couldn't understand what the fudd happened, how could two people just disappear? Why did this happen all of a sudden? Why did that man- Why did he look so familiar?

It was supposed to be a fun little outing between you and your dad, a walk in the park to go get some food and have a picnic, but before you knew it you were shoved against a wall with glass and rock stuck in your face, your dad holding you close To shield you from the chaos around. You had been squeezing your eyes shut tight enough that they itched and ached now.

You were in too much shock to be able to give the cops any valuable information they would even remotely need, too focused on the fact Things like this didn't happen here, they just didn't. You cried on the way home, holding your (now bandaged) dad tight as you could. He hushed you, comforting you to the best of his ability. But you were both tired, too tired to care about taking your dirty clothes off or going to actual bed.

You slept on the couch, on your dad that night.

But when you woke up the next morning, he was gone.

It wasn't too strange for him, working as a doctor he was often called in early mornings to late nights, too early for you to be up when he left. But still, something felt off about it this time, usually he would wake you up for a few moments to say goodbye and give you a kiss. There was none of that today, just you, left under a blanket lying down on the couch, cold and alone and still scared straight.

The house felt different, dead. Like something was weighing heavy in the air, dragging all the air down and making it suffocatingly tight in the room. You wanted to get out, to go outside and go on a walk or something. But yesterday… with what happened. The feeling of dread sat in the back of your head, forcing you not to step out of your apartment, too scared to leave but too bored to stay.

You sat on the couch all day basically, watching reruns of old sitcoms. You knew your dad wouldn't be mad that you didn't want to go to school today, most of the time he came home too tired to do more than eat and sleep so you doubt he would even notice.

The sound of the door opening, along with uncharacteristically light footsteps Alerted you that your dad was home again, you sat up, pushing the blanket off of your shoulders and sitting up on the edge of the couch to look at him. At the sight of him, your head fell into a tilt, he looked… not bad, but different. A little bit more tired looking, his wrinkles were far more set into his face, and his was shorter, and far less groomed than it usually was.

“Hola Papa. Did you cut your hair or something? It looks different.” You narrowed your eyes at him with a small smile. He nodded, staring at you with some foreign look in his eyes. Setting down the few grocery bags he held in his hands.

You blinked, and within a moment he was on top of you, embracing you in a tight hug. You were immediately lifted off of the ground with a slight squeal, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you tight, breathing in your smell. How odd. Your dad isn't like this. Not very touchy, he never showed too much affection. The hug lasted for what felt like hours of you in his arms, held tightly.

You came realization only a few seconds in that you liked it, this is what you needed, and it felt nice. All the dread from your system completely drained out as his arms got tighter and tighter, and tighter. Since when has your dad been so muscular? Last you can remember, he was softer, not as rough. Strange, isn't it?

“Mija. I missed you so much baby, so much.” he breathed in the smell of your hair again, pulling you higher up onto his chest. His words should've sent off red flags in your head, you had just seen him hours ago right? You stayed quiet, choosing to relish in the moment of comfort this gave you. His voice was scratchy and rough, like he'd been screaming.

“Me too. I didn't go to school today, too scared.” Your voice was muffled against his chest, but you could feel his heartbeat with every breath he took. At your words his arms tightened slightly, and you squished your face further onto his neck. He was like a human furnace, radiating heat in your too-cold apartment.

“Oh baby- I’m here now. I’ll protect you, you won't ever have to be scared ever again.” With that, he brought a hand up to cup the back of your head, and his lips met your forehead in a warm kiss. If you maybe hadn't been so wrapped up in the fact that this felt so warm, so nice, you would've noticed the look he held in his eye. How deranged he looked, how terrifying he was. Maybe you would've paid more attention to all the little things that weren't adding up about him.

“Mi ninita. I’m so glad you're okay, I will never leave you again.” The two of you shared a glance, and that heavy feeling of dread pooled back into your system. There was something else in his eyes, something terrifying. Maybe you were just tired, or maybe you had head trauma from yesterday.

Moments passed as you enjoyed the warm hug, before he began to move, still keeping you in his arms, but walking elsewhere, you muttered a small “Hm?” squirming slightly in attempts to get yourself back on your own two feet, but he just shook his head at you, and squeezed.

“I got dinner while I was out, empanadas. I figured we could eat in my bed and watch a movie, You'll sleep with me tonight” He took note of your confused face, then went on to continue “ I don't want you alone anytime soon, especially not with all that's happening in the neighborhood. You don't want to get hurt, right? “

You just shook your head, letting yourself relax in his grip. Truly when had he become so strong, or on a different note, as affectionate? Usually, your dad was exhausted, he loved you, yeah, you knew that, but coming home from a 12-hour hospital shift at an understaffed medical center drained him. He usually didn't have time, and when he did he really didnt know how to spend it.

You slept better than you ever have in your entire life that night, close to your dad in his bed, cuddled under a warm blanket with your father's arms relentlessly wrapped tight around you, caging you in… you didnt hate it.

…

The next few weeks were different, strange, and not like you were used to. Everything changed. At first, it was just the little things, the things you would usually glide over. Miguel would come home early, leave later, and bring you food and clothes and stuff you were never able to afford.

Kids at your school started avoiding you, even though you never did anything to make you avoidable. It was weird for you, to see such a sudden shift in your life. The weirdest part about it though, is you had no idea what changed.

Not long after though, it got worse. Your dad would look through your phone, something he never cared about before, he always excused it with the same “I'm just looking out for you mija”, but it felt like a lie. Eventually, your contacts list shifted and changed to your dad.. And your dad. If you got any texts or calls he would look at them before you could, and decline them.

You stopped going out of the house as much, he excused you from school, telling you that you needed a break after all the trauma you've been through in the past few weeks. And without school or friends, you didnt have any reason to go out unless it was for mail or groceries. Even then, sometimes your dad would walk with you or just go himself instead. Eventually it got to the point that you weren't allowed to go out, not by your own choice anymore..

And Miguel, he would tell you things about what was going on outside. How all of a sudden there were villains on every corner, people were dying every day, crime was high. It scared you, and he clearly knew that, he used it to keep you inside, to keep you from going out.

It just got to the point where you did nothing, absolutely nothing. And you were tired of it. You wanted to go out, live your life and see people and see things, have fun with friends, do stupid teenager things. Things you should've already been doing. But he wouldnt let you, he made you stay inside, held you tight so you wouldnt leave.

And with the realization that this man was controlling you, your rose-colored glasses flew off of your face entirely. Your father wasn't like this, he barely cared enough to ask how your day was. Let alone keep you caged in your own home every day. Something was very very wrong. And just like that, it all snapped into place.

This isn't your dad. The way he acted, the way he walked, the way he held you, the way he looked at you, the way he controlled you, the way he comforted you when you were upset. There was not one thing about this man that made sense, not one similarity. Whoever this was, it wasn't your miguel ohara, it was a fake. A phony.

“Mija? Are you feeling sick? Whats wrong” He stared at you, letting his brows cluster together in worry. He had you sitting on the counter as he cooked, wearing one of your dads white t-shirts, it clung to his back muscles, showcasing the spider tattoo on the back of his neck. Your dad thought tattoos were trashy and unprofessional, and your dad most certainly did not have muscles like that. How had you been so daft as to miss that?

You stared, narrowing your eyes at the man who was wearing your dads clothing, your dads skin.

“Y/n?” he turned, placing the knife down on the counter, and grabbing your shoulders. The stranger stood in front of you, bending over to have his face at your level. He looked into your eyes, tilting his head. The position brought you back to your senses, and reminded you that this man, whoever he was, was extremely stronger than you were, and could overpower you without even thinking about it.

You snapped up. “Oh! Sorry. Just thinking.” you spoke with a shaky voice, grabbing his large hands with your own and straightening up from your slouched position on the counter. You met his gaze and squeezed his hand, his big hand. He was too big for you, you couldnt get away if he didn't want you to, you would have to be sneaky.

“What has you so deep in thought? Is my ninita daydreaming again?” a grin broke out on his face, showing his pearly canines. You returned the smile with a shaky breath. What were you supposed to do now? He hadn't made any move to hurt you yet, but he certainly could if he wanted to. You sent a glance towards the TV, where the local news was playing, the man left a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder before turning around and picking his knife back up.

Your entire body went frigid at the sight of the tv, you inhaled a small gasp, bringing your hand up to your mouth.

“The body of 31-year-old Miguel O’hara has been found, a resident doctor at the local medical center, any information about the whereabouts of this man’s disappearance should be reported to the authorities. Local police are currently investigating possible causes of death, and are contacting family and loved ones right now. This is Miles Morales with the six O-clock news, stay safe out there.”

Your hands shook violently as a photo of the scene splayed across the screen, it was a bloody mess, an utter monstrosity of a crime scene. The body was blurred completely, probably too gruesome to show on public access news, but you knew it was him, he had those old white shoes from the hospital on, the ones that he wore even though they were battered and covered in holes. And his wedding ring, the one with the tiny stone embedded at the edge of it. That was your dad, that was your fudding dad and he was dead. Mutilated and shown on the news.

You involuntarily let out a whimper at the sight, the hand you had on your face squeezed and shook, trying to keep your composure, keep yourself from sobbing and blowing your cover. You failed miserably, as tears clouded your vision and fell on the countertop. Your irregular breathing and whimpers brought the attention of the man in your kitchen wearing your father's skin, your dead father's skin.

“Ai dios mio- Mija what's wrong? Are you hurt?” immediately the man was on top of you, with his hands running up and down your arms, checking for any possible injuries. He was using that fake worried tone he always did, the one you would usually fall for. The rage that consumed you blurred your vision, that along with the cloudy tears. You smacked his hands off of you, pushing yourself back further onto the countertop. You stared with wide eyes.

“Who the fudd are you? “ You asked, staring at him with those teary eyes of yours, there was a pure hatred laced throughout your expression, his eyes flicked from you with shock as he muttered a small “language”, they then panned to the tv behind. His face slipped from confusion to dread, his eyes went wide and his brows unfurrowed and dropped. His shoulders went completely slack, and he just stood there, waiting for you to make your next move.

“Mija- just listen to me before you do anything stupid- I know it's scary but you need to listen to me for a second” he rushed out, his sweet voice now dripping with fear, why was he scared of all things? He was the one with the advantage. You squirmed back, hopping off the other side of the counter, you continued to back away, eyes staying just as wide.

“You didn't answer my fudding question. Who- Who are you.” He made no move to get closer, only staring at you, so you continued “ Did you- did you kill my dad? My real dad?” The way he tilted his head with those soft eyes of his answered your question enough. Your hands kept shaking, your head kept pulsing with fear, and finally… you let out a piercing scream. One the neighbors were sure to hear.

But in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you.

“Please- please mija. I am your father- your papa. Please, You don't have to be scared of me, I love you- I'll never hurt you.” His hand pressed against your mouth, leaving a white film that held your it completely shut. Your screams were muffled now, but still audible. He had you on the floor, on top of you, his hands pinning you down with his entire strength. You thrashed and looked around for anybody to help, but the more you moved the tighter his hands got. You were shaking, whimpering like a kicked cat.

“I promise you- Prometo mi ninita- I just wanted to protect you, I will never EVER lay harm to you. “ He was deranged, quickly rushing out the words in a panic. You had never seen him so fearful, so desperate, both your father and him. You stopped thrashing, Instead choosing to stare up at him. He was so… scary, now that he wasn't being sweet, now that he was forcing you onto the floor, holding you down. The look in his eyes was terrifying.

All of a sudden it was like you realized the position you were in, he could kill you right now, this imposter could crush your head in his hands and leave like nothing happened, he was going to hurt you. Kill you. Like he did your father. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. You were frozen, your hands began to quiver harshly, and tears streamed down your cheeks freely, panic flushed through your veins, overtaking that rage that you previously, pure fear rushed over you entirely. And you couldnt control your body anymore.

You couldnt breathe, or think. Or feel your body, you were overtaken with a fuzzy terrified feeling, your entire body quivered as you stared at him. The film over your mouth certainly wasnt helping, you tried to inhale, but you couldnt, as your vision blurred further. You couldnt feel anything. You hadnt realized you were digging your nails into your skin until there was blood dripping out of your wrists.

“Baby- you need to calm down. Your hurting yourself, you don't have to be scared, I’m not going ot hurt you. Just breathe- Tienes que respirar mija- por favor” The usually completely stoic miguel ohara, the leader of the spiderverse protection program was panicking, more so than he ever had in the past. You were having a panic attack, a bad one, that much was obvious, he had never delt with this before. You kept shaking, his words doing nothing. So he brought his arms around you, hoisting you up to his chest once more. Now it wasnt comforting, now it made you more fearful.

“Shh- I’m here. It's okay- I’m going to calm you down, don't be scared - Youll be okay.” He hushed, before bringing his head to your neck, it left you completely speechless and shocked, before he brought his lips to the nape, and bit down firmly. The tips of his canines dipped in, and the tiniest bit of his venom flushed into your veins.

You were only able to let a small scream out, before the venom overtook your senses. And your quivering figure went slack in his arms. He held you tight, lifting you off the ground entirely and clutching you. He wouldnt let you hurt yourself, he wouldnt let anybody hurt you, he couldnt. He ruined his chances before, He couldnt do it again. Even if you were scared, he would help.

“Lyla?” he spoke to the watch resting around his rist, setting you on his hip in the process. A small “yes sir?” rang out from the device, before he continued “Lets go home, I expect the office is ready for her.” His voice was harsh now, commanding like it should be.

“Yes sir. A-are you sure this is a good idea? She clearly wont be able to handle something like-”

“I’ll take care of it. Just do your job.

Were coming home. finally.”

———————————————————————

This is not very good. But I kinda like it. also MIGUEL OHARA TAKE ME NOW… anyways.

ALSO I COME FROM A HISPANIC FAMILY BUT I USE SPANISH LIKE NEVER SO IT IS NOT GOOD DONT BE MEAN.

Thanks for requesting anon! And thanks for reading! Please don’t be scared to write comments I absolutely love seeing them!

Have a great day! Bye!

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tusks-and-claws · 1 year ago

Text

The Death of Peace of Mind

Miguel O’hara x female reader

Summary: "I miss the way you say my name/the way you bend, the way you break"

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

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, fingering, blowjob, pronebone, blood, biting, unprotected sex, paralytic venom, dominant Miguel, dirty talk, God there’s so much to list : )

Word count: 3.3k

Can also be found on Ao3 here. Please give it some love if you enjoyed ;_;

"I know better than this, I shouldn't be… we shouldn't be doing this."

Miguel O'Hara sat at the edge of your bed, your room softly illuminated by a candle on the bedside table. He liked the dark. His back was to you, his broad shoulders slumped forward, as you had your back against your headboard. He was still in his suit, his mask off.

"Miguel…" you said, starting this conversation again for the umpteenth time. "You have needs, too, y'know."

He waved a hand dismissively. "What are my needs when compared to all this?" He gestured to nothing. You weren't even at HQ. You were both in your dimension. A vacation, you had said. You could never get him to leave HQ for long. "I know what happens when I try to get what I want. When I go where I don't belong."

You furrowed your brow. "But you do belong here, I invited you."

"You know exactly what I mean." He spoke quickly. Trying to expel the words as fast as possible.

Your arms crossed over your chest as you eyed him. He'd been through a lot, yes, but what Spider hadn't? How long was he going to keep ignoring himself for the greater good? What purpose would he serve if he tore himself apart?

"You're right," you said, finally.

"What?" He asked, peering over his shoulder to look at you, incredulous.

"You're right," you repeated. "You can leave."

"I… well. I suppose I can leave. Do you… want me to?"

You suppressed a smile. "I don't really care," you lied.

"You…?" He turned around at that, hands on the bed as he swiveled his torso to meet your eyes. "You can't be serious. I- I made the effort to make sure Jess could cover me so we could come here, I… it's a huge waste of time. You see that, don't you?"

"I guess so." It was hard for you to break eye contact with him, but you managed to do it, and stared pointedly out the window.

"You 'guess,' I can't-" he rubbed his face with his hands. "You're so frustrating, I can't read you, you-"

Your face broke, betraying you, a smirk cracking your façade.

He narrowed his eyes, fully turning around now, bringing his knees up onto the bed to crawl to you. His claws came out, and they pulled at the threads of your comforter, threatening to tear holes. "Is this what you want? You want to make me mad?"

You blushed as he made his way to you, his sudden intensity stirring you into silence.

"Well?" He asked. "Suddenly so quiet." He reached you now, looming over you with both hands on the headboard on either side of you, his muscular thighs straddling your legs. His huge frame took up your whole vision, his presence overwhelming your heightened senses. Heat was radiating from his body. His scent washed over you. He was all clean musk and warmth and something deeper, something primal. It played to your baser mind, telling you to lose control and give in.

You swallowed. "You have no need to stay here." You weren't done teasing him just yet.

"But you have need, hm?" He looked down to study your form, releasing his hands from the headboard to touch the hem of your shirt. "Don't you?"

You held your breath, nodding.

"Say it." His tone was casual. Flippant.

Your breath left you as your lips parted to speak, the words far from you as your brain grew foggy. He always liked to hear you admit how much you wanted it, how much you wanted him. And he always asked you when he knew you'd struggle to form a response.

"Yes." It was the only thing your brain made abundantly clear. Yes. Yes, you have needs. Yes, in this moment, he was one of them.

"Yes what?"

How cruel. Under his gaze for this long, intense and bloodshot, you grew more flustered and delirious.

"Yes, Miguel, I have need of you." You impressed yourself with the eloquence of your reply.

"Oh? Oh, do you?" His hands finally moved again, snaking under the bottom of your shirt, the fabric of his suit keeping your skin from touching his. "That's kind of selfish of you, isn't it?"

You nodded, biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes as his hands moved to firmly hold the sides of your waist, thumbs stroking soft skin. He was being careful to not scratch you. Though his claws were retractable, you noticed throughout your encounters that he had a hard time keeping them hidden when his passions were running high. But part of you didn't care if he marked you up. Part of you wanted to keep something from him. Something more than awkward passing glances and intimate encounters that were few and far between.

"M-Miguel?"

"Mm? What is it?"

"You don't need to be gentle, y’know."

His gaze flicked to meet yours as he raised an eyebrow. He seemed amused.

"It's just that," for some reason, you felt the need to elaborate. "I'm strong, too. I can handle it. You've been so stressed."

"So… you want me to use you?" His voice was low and level.

Use. The word sent a shock up your spine. He could see the emotions flashing across your face, the thoughts of him, of what he might do to you. Was this safe? Could he control himself? He'd have to. You'd just have to trust him.

You released a breath you hadn't noticed you were holding, meeting him in his bloodshot eyes. "Yes. Please."

He grinned, bearing his pearly fangs in the flickering candlelight. The fog in your head grew thicker at the sight of them. Would he bite you with them? How would they feel against your skin? How would they feel piercing you? Would it hurt? Would it-

The feeling of his bare forefinger, claw retracted, gently teasing your slit quickly shut you up. When did he move his hand under the hem of your shorts? You were so deep within your own clouded thoughts, you hadn't even noticed. He caressed you there before carefully plunging his finger into your heat. The feeling was immediately maddening. You bit your lip to keep yourself from asking for more, for another finger, for his mouth, for his- no. You were following his pace. This was what you wanted, yes, but it was mostly for him. You somehow knew that he needed this more than you did, though he'd never admit it.

The whole time, he kept his reddened eyes on your face, studying every reaction. "You're wet, you're so wet…." His voice was quiet. "So, this is what does it for you, huh?" He pumped his finger at a steady pace. You could hear the wet sounds he elicited with his efforts. You braced yourself on his hulking shoulders, preparing for him to quicken at any moment. But he was agonizingly slow. His free hand gripped the headboard above you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. "Me, your leader, using you." There was that word again. You lightly arched your back into him upon hearing it, trying to keep yourself calm for now. Falling apart could come later. "I try so hard to hold it all together. But you… you threaten me. The looks you give me, your smiles, your smell, estoy cachondo, fuck." Your eyes widened. He only spoke Spanish when his emotions were heightened. He was unraveling.

Good.

He slipped his digit out from inside of you and circled your clit with a slick fingertip. The feeling was intense and electric, and even though you were still half-pinned by his muscular thighs, your upper body curled into him. "Seeing you like this…" he swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. "Rendering you helpless… It's revenge for how you make me feel when you look at me the way you do. If I can make you feel half of that… that might be enough. You're going to come for me. Feel what I feel."

You nodded fervently, unable to speak under his attention, his words, his touch. That delicious, warm feeling was building up and coiling in your core as he kept expertly circling your clit, until the coil finally snapped and you came, lifting up off of the bed and throwing your arms around his neck as you whimpered. Miguel continued as you rode it out, reveling in the newfound wetness that came with your orgasm, until you finally settled down, your heart still thumping in your chest. You released your hold of him, your arms weak, your gaze heavy. He seemed to match your labored breathing, his chest rising and falling in time with yours. You had hardly even touched him and he seemed as much of a mess as you were.

He stared at you like that for a brief moment, seemingly awestruck at your reaction to this newly opened door.

"God, I need… I need your mouth around my cock." He flipped unceremoniously off of you to lay on his back at your side. "Come here." Before you had time to react, he had a hand on your head, guiding you downward. Despite the forceful movement, he fondly scratched at your scalp with bare fingers, his hand shaking just enough for you to notice. You positioned yourself so your head rested on his hard abdominals while you admired the display he brought you down to see. His hard cock pushed against his nearly metallic suit. The sheen of the fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. You could see his thick shaft, prominent veins like rivers flowing over a landscape, all leading up to the bulbous head. He twitched eagerly as he sighed, trying to calm his heart.

You reached your hand up to touch Miguel through his suit, and his reaction was bodily. He hissed a breath in through clenched teeth. You played with his hard length, running the flat of your palm up and down the underside of his shaft, until he couldn't take it anymore. He seemed to be able to dismiss parts of his suit at will, and he did just that, creating an opening so he could spring free. It was always an impressive sight, sizable and thick. His golden skin slightly red with anticipation at the head of his cock, soft dark waves of short hair at the base. Reaching up, you gently held it. You couldn't quite wrap your whole hand around it. He exhaled at your touch, skin on skin. The hand he had in your hair gently pushed your head until your waiting lips met the tip of his cock, and you accepted it, closing your mouth around it.

Miguel threw his head back, slamming it against the headboard and shaking the two of you on the bed. The sound startled you, but you knew the headboard would've taken more damage than Miguel. He gave no indication that he was hurt, and so you kept going, sucking on the tip of his cock and being as noisy as possible so it would overwhelm that heightened hearing of his. And overwhelm it did. The soft, wet heat of your mouth was nearly too much for him. And as you started to take him deeper, he reached his arms up and behind him, taking the headboard into a vice grip. You could hear the wood splintering.

That should've worried you, you should've cared about your furniture being destroyed. But you didn't. You couldn't, not with Miguel O'Hara melting underneath you. He could destroy a thousand bed frames. So long as you could touch him, could hear him moaning, could watch him as he barely held his composure. This would always be worth it.

You took him further into your mouth, humming around his length at the pleasant, full feeling. You were slow, holding him there, savoring the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue.

"M-move-" he croaked.

You turned your gaze towards his face, raising an eyebrow. He was straining. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, fangs displayed in clenched teeth. You could see the prominent cracks in the wood.

"Move your shocking head, amor."

His hands came down to tangle with your hair, grabbing handfuls so he could move your head for you. You happily let him, and he bobbed you up and down on his shaft as you opened your throat to him.

"Oh, fuck, yes… that's it. Good girl. You're- you're taking me so fucking well."

Your eyes started rolling into the back of your head fondly. Good girl. He'd never called you that before. You'd be good for him. You'd be so good.

The sounds coming from you were the very definition of lewd, as were the strands of thick saliva that connected you to him. You closed your eyes, continuing to breathe through your nose, when you felt something prick your scalp. His claws. In and out, in and out. He was struggling to keep control of them.

"Ay, coño, I can't fucking do this." His voice barely a whisper. "You're gonna," he paused, swallowing. "You're gonna make me lose control, you know that?" Despite his words, he kept going, kept moving your head, even started to thrust his hips up to fuck your throat more thoroughly. His moans turned into what could only be described as growls, and the sound of them hit you like an electric shock, making you want him even more. If that were even possible.

His claws kept scraping you, threatening to fully unsheath. But Miguel never let them. He finally let your head go, bringing his hands up to his face and rubbing it in exhaustion. You stayed on his cock for a moment longer, carefully lifting your head away and disconnecting from him with a wet pop.

He groaned to himself through his hands.

"Miguel…? You alright?"

"No." He finally said, "no, I'm fucking not."

You cocked your head in surprise at the response, opening your mouth to question him further until you were cut off by him quickly grabbing you and positioning you underneath him. He was pinning your legs again, but you were faced down this time, your cheeks pressed against the soft sheets as he pushed you into the mattress. He finally let his claws out, and with one swift movement, tore your shorts and panties into ribbons. In that moment, you were glad he couldn't see your face. You were grinning like an idiot. Finally. You're finally seeing the side of him that you always knew was there. That you desperately wanted him to let out. Your previous encounters had been tame compared to this. He'd been holding back.

"Because now," he grabbed your waist with both of his large hands, holding firm. "Now I know that you like being treated like a little fucktoy. I know that you'll be good for me and that you'll listen. What a rarity." He started to line up the tip of his cock with your entrance. "And if I thought you took up too much space in my head already, well-" he chuckled, pushing his tip into your pussy. "I'll never have peace of mind again."

He thrusted into you, and you were immediately seeing stars. With each pump, he took himself nearly all the way out of your warmth before plunging all the way back in. You could feel every delicious, hot inch of him. So deep and so filling. He fucked you into the mattress so thoroughly and so hard that you were convinced a crater was forming underneath the both of you. You felt the sharp points of his claws pricking your skin but not quite puncturing you. Your head swam as you grew dizzy.

He released your waist, left hand steadying himself on the low headboard, which was bound to break again. His right arm snuck up underneath your right arm, reaching around your collarbone to grab at your left shoulder, pulling you up so you were close into him. His chest was flush with your back. You reached up to hold onto that arm for dear life, as he brought his mouth down to your ear.

"Wanna bite you so bad, amor," he growled. "You smell so shocking good. Drivin' me up a fucking wall."

"Do it," you said, your voice strained.

"Wh-what?" His pace wavered. "You can't mean that."

"I- fuck- I do. Bite me, Miguel. Please."

"Are you," he exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you sure? It's a paralytic venom. I've- I've used it on Spiders before and we can withstand it a bit, but, shit… I need you to know what you're getting into."

"Do it," you said again.

His entire body shook against you. "Unbelievable…." His voice sounded reverent. "Hold on tight."

You listened, gripping his arm harder, shutting your eyes. His mouth came down to meet the crook of your neck. He inhaled, letting your scent wash over him, before carefully sinking his fangs into your skin. The pain was sharp and fast, and was quickly replaced with a wave of warmth and laxity. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to easily pull you in even closer. He moaned against you, his thrusts quickening, his cock feeling like it was hitting your cervix. With every smack of his skin against yours, he buried himself to the hilt. That incredible, intense feeling was building within you again, deep inside your core.

"Fuck," he hissed into your skin, releasing his jaws and lapping at the light trickle of crimson blood. "Good girl, good girl, I've got you."

He held you and didn't let go, caging you against his huge form, fucking you until that feeling turned into a huge sunburst that sent spots across your vision. Your body trembled involuntarily as you clenched around his cock.

"Yes," he encouraged, "yes, come for me. Give it all to me. I've got you, bebé."

You smiled against the venom, and he was right, it wasn't too potent in your system. It was just enough to comfortably loosen your muscles. You came down from your high as he kept pumping into you, his pace merciless. His body started to shake again, his right hand's grip on your left shoulder tightening.

“Too much for me to handle,” he rasped. “I’m gonna come… gonna come inside you.”

“Yes,” you croaked, finding your voice and gaining back enough control of your muscles to push yourself up into him.

His tempo stuttered as he slammed his hips into you, curling against you as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, spilling hot seed in thick spurts. He held you there for a long while, savoring the feeling of being inside you, like he knew he'd miss the warmth once it was gone. Despite what he wanted, he let go of you and flipped onto his back beside you, placing a hand over his heart as his chest heaved. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. Silently reaching for you, he pulled you in so you could rest against his chest, your head rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. He stroked your hair as you stared up at him, his face glowing in the yellow shine of candlelight.

"That…" he started to say, then stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I…. I needed that."

You smiled, nuzzling into him. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me?" He asked, laughing at how ridiculous it sounded.

"Yeah," you said. "I feel like I finally saw Miguel tonight. Not Spider-Man. But Miguel. And I really like him."

He rolled his eyes but still smiled, petting your head until you fell asleep on him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #my writing #smut #mdom #i've crawled out of my hole for a new fic hi hello #i'm obsessed with him #this wasn't really beta read so my b if there are typos #trying out the new fic format that i see all over the place #someone on ao3 was kind enough to suggest some different words inn spanish so i've edited to include those #i'm not a native speaker so i'm open to suggestions #love you guys #also the ao3 link broke but it should work now lmaooo can you tell i published this at midnight #hold onto your shorts because i edited the spanish again lmao

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