#patient miguel x doctor reader

[guilty-pleasures21]

The health checkup

Patient!Miguel x Doctor!Reader ?! I'm just crazy for shy Miguel, okay?! 😍

Warnings: manipulation for sex and explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

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     “Dr O’Hara?” Miguel looked up at the sound of his name and the nurse gestured for him to head to the examination room. “The doctor is ready to see you now.” Miguel strode over to the door and knocked on it before entering. It was just his yearly checkup with his usual doctor - the older man he’d been seeing for years. But the doctor sitting in the chair when he walked in was neither old nor a man. 

     “Doctor O’Hara?” the unfamiliar doctor inquired, looking up from her computer to flash him a warm smile as she did so. She was really pretty: tumbling curls, almond-shaped eyes, rosy lips. Miguel cleared his throat suddenly, realising he’d been staring. 

     “Uh, it’s academic,” he elaborated, lowering his gaze as he took the empty seat beside her desk. “But … you’re not Dr Jefferson.” 

     “Good observation, Dr O’Hara,” the young doctor teased him. “Looks like your eyesight is all on point. Now let’s check your blood pressure.” He held his arm out so she could strap the monitor around it. Then she pressed the ‘start’ button before turning her attention back to him. 

     “I’m X, by the way,” she introduced herself finally. “I don’t know if Dr Jefferson told you before, but he’ll be retiring soon, so we’re starting to transfer his patients to other doctors.” 

     Right. Dr Jefferson had told him that, when Miguel had come in for a nasty cough a while back. But did that mean that this new, unnecessarily cute little doctor was going to be his regular from now on? “Oh, yeah. I’m Miguel.” 

     “Nice to meet you, Miguel.” She flashed him that pretty little smile again, then removed the monitor before pulling out her penlight. “So, Miguel, what are you a doctor in?” 

     He flinched a little as she shone the pen into his eyes, but she finished rather quickly before moving on to his ears. “Uh, genetics.” 

     “Ooh, fancy!” She sat back down in front of him and took hold of his chin and he opened his jaw to allow her a glimpse of the back of his throat. “I was thinking of specialising in that at one point.” She placed her penlight back into her pocket, then turned around to prepare the syringe and tube for taking a sample of his blood. 

     “But?” Miguel asked, the nervous fluttering of his stomach getting drowned out by his curiosity now. She shrugged, then turned back to him to clean the inside of his elbow.

     “I dunno. I quite liked looking after patients.” She tied a band around his upper arm, then tapped on his skin to find the vessel. “So I thought I’d stick to it.” Miguel felt a slight pinch as she stuck the needle in, but he kept his gaze fixed on her as she drew his blood. 

     “How old are you?” he inquired, his eyes narrowing in thought. She seemed pretty young to be working on her own already. Not that it made him doubt her abilities in any way! It just made him think that maybe she was really smart - another one of the boxes on his checklist ticked off. Not that he’d been counting or anything. Then, realising that the question might come across as offensive, he quickly added “if you don’t mind me asking!” 

     X removed the syringe and set the tube of blood down on the sampling tray. “Twenty-seven.” 

     His eyes widened in surprise: she was four years younger than him! He didn’t think doctors could start practising on their own until they were at least thirty or something. “Wow, that’s … pretty impressive.”

     X turned back around to face him and shot him a little wink that had his stomach flipping over. 

     “I’m a fast learner,” she joked. She reached into a drawer and took out a small tube, then she stood up and started pulling on some gloves. “Could you get on the bed, Miguel? I’ll be conducting your prostate exam now. It should only take a minute or two.” 

     Miguel felt his entire body heat up at her request - he’d completely forgotten about that part of the checkup! But how the hell was he supposed to let this pretty little doctor stick her fingers up his ass?! “Uh, right.” 

     Miguel walked over to the bed and started undoing his belt and zip, making sure to keep himself turned away from her. Dios, this was so awkward! Or maybe he was just making it awkward? She was a doctor, after all: she’d probably done this a hundred other times, with a hundred other men. He dropped his pants and underwear and climbed up onto the bed, waiting as she coated her fingers with the lube she’d taken out. 

     “I love it when a man knows how to listen,” X joked, placing her hands on his cheeks. Joder. How could she say that? How could she tease him like that when her slender fingers were gliding all over his skin and gently prodding around in his ass? F*ck. “Are you sexually active?” 

     “Uh, yes. But not recently!” Coño, why did he say that? And so quickly too, like he wanted her to know he was available or something? Available for what?! “I’ve just … been a little busy with work lately.” 

     “Hmm.” He was really cute, the way he kept shifting around and clearing his throat and sneaking nervous glances at her. And so hot too, with his dark hair and his sculpted features and his perfectly crafted physique. Shit. She was so glad Dr Jefferson had decided to retire. “What kind of work do you do?” 

     “Just research,” Miguel responded vaguely, too distracted by the feeling of her long fingers brushing against him to focus on anything else. Finally, she pulled away from him and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Bien, it was over. Now he could leave and request to be transferred to a different doctor - someone older and meaner who wouldn’t make him start getting hard every time they so much as smiled at him. Mierda, he was such an idiot. 

     “Feels good!” X informed him, taking a step back so he could push himself up off the bed. “Should we do a fertility check now?” 

     A what? Dr Jefferson had never suggested such a thing before. Miguel twisted his head back to look at her before posing the question. “A what?” 

     “A fertility check,” she repeated, already feeling her underwear starting to get damp at the thought of his cock. “Don’t tell me Dr Jefferson never did one for you.” 

     She said it so casually, like it was a normal part of the examination that he’d maybe missed out on. So maybe Dr Jefferson had just forgotten about it? 

     “Um, no.” He pulled his underwear back up over his waist and then turned around to face her. “What does it involve?” He glanced up at her briefly and felt the blood begin to redirect itself to his cock at the mischievous glint in her eyes. But it was a ‘fertility’ check - what else was he supposed to think it would involve?

     “Well, first,” X began, taking a slow step towards him. “I’m going to want to make sure that your testicles are all in order: no abnormal lumps or anything like that. Then I’m going to need a sample of your sperm.”

     She placed her hands on the bed - in the space between his legs, right in front of his rapidly hardening cock - and tilted her head as she gave him a challenging smirk. “Are you up for that, Dr O’Hara?” 

     He swallowed hard and shifted in position as he thought about it - as he tried to think about it, all his thoughts currently focused on if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. But coño, she was his p*nche doctor, for f*ck’s sake! How disrespectful of him to be having such thoughts about her! “Uh, if … if you think it’s necessary.”

     Shit, he was so cute! How could someone so hot be so nervous?! She straightened and tried not to let her lips stretch too wide as she lowered her gaze to his crotch. “Pants off, please.” 

     Miguel glanced away from her and cleared his throat as he slid his underwear back down. His eyes flickered back up to her when she didn’t do anything, and he felt his cock twitch when he saw the way she bit her lip at the sight of him. F*ck. 

     Wow. He was hard? Already? For her? X looked up to find him already looking at her, and he dropped his gaze quickly when their eyes met. She grinned and got down on her knees to pull his pants off entirely. 

     She was … a little enthusiastic in the way she ripped his pants off. But maybe she just wanted to get it over with? She was probably busy, after all, with a whole list of patients to get through today. And that was the last rational thought he could remember having, because then her hands were on his balls, her fingers stroking and kneading him so carefully, so gently. Miguel sucked in a breath and gripped onto the edges of the bed at the sensation and she looked up at him in question. 

     “Everything all right, doctor?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice as she said it. F*ck, this was so embarrassing! How could he be getting hard for his doctor while she was just trying to conduct a routine exam? Miguel didn’t trust himself to keep his voice steady if he spoke, so he settled for just nodding instead. X grinned and turned her attention back to his cock, the tip already red and swollen for her. 

     “Miguel …” she began slowly, licking her lips at the sight of his engorged cock - he was so big, she couldn’t even wrap her fingers all the way around him! Shit, he was hot! “Do you think I could … use my hands? Without the gloves, I mean. I could … get a better feel of things …” 

     She fluttered her eyelashes up at him pleadingly and f*ck, how could he resist her when she was looking up at him like that, her dark eyes all wide and pretty? He nodded again and she took off her gloves before returning her hands back to his cock. 

     Coño, it felt even better; having her smooth skin running over his cock and brushing along his length so delicately. She circled his slit with her thumb while she moved her other hand back to his balls and he had to bite down on his tongue to stop a groan from escaping his throat. 

     She wished he wasn’t so shy - she wanted to hear the satisfied groans and moans fall from his lips as she played with him. He just had such a nice voice, so deep and so gentle, and she’d have loved to hear him vocalise the pleasure he was deriving from having her hands all over him. Maybe she should try something else? 

     “Miguel,” X called to him, her gaze fixed on his cock as she stroked and squeezed him gently. “I’m … running out of lubricant. Do you mind if I …” 

     She looked up at him and licked her lips and he felt his heart start thudding in his chest at the hungry look in her eyes. ¡P*ta madre! How was it even possible for her to get any prettier?! Sitting there in between his legs, her delicate hands pumping his cock slowly, the tip just inches from her mouth. He knew exactly what she was asking him without her even having to finish the sentence. Miguel found himself nodding in agreement and X’s features lit up with delight. 

     She leaned forward and gave his tip a kitten lick - so light he barely felt it. Then she dragged her tongue harder against his slit and his entire body shuddered at the feeling. She snickered at his response, then swirled her tongue around his length, her head moving forward slowly so she could pull him into her mouth. And then he was inside of her, her mouth warm and wet around his cock, her tongue trailing along his length as she bobbed her head up and down. 

     “F*ck!” Miguel exclaimed, digging his fingers into the bed. X chuckled at his response, then pulled him deep into her mouth before giving a satisfied moan. Miguel shivered again as the vibrations of her voice danced along his length and then he let out a low groan. Coño, he wished he could reach out and grab her head, hold her in position while he f*cked that pretty little mouth of hers. Mierda, she felt good. 

     Holy shit! Holy shit, he sounded so good! And he felt amazing too, sitting there so obediently while she licked and sucked on his dick. She dragged her fingernails along his thighs and let out another moan before pushing her head forward, taking him all the way into her mouth and then swallowing around him. 

     “F**********ck!” Miguel’s head fell back in pleasure and he bit his lip as his cock began throbbing inside her mouth. Then she pulled her head back, dragging him out of her mouth before she sat back to look up at him. 

     “Miguel.” She swallowed hard at the sight of him, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his eyes glazed over with lust, and her stomach flipped. “I don’t … want to get anything on my clothes. Are you all right if I take them off? Just until I get the sample!” 

     She gave him an innocent look, blinking her curly lashes up at him as she waited for his response. But f*ck, he could see the mischief hovering on the edges of her expression, her rosy lips curling at the ends as she let her fingers go back to stroking and fisting his cock. Did he really feel that good? So good that she refused to let any part of her body lose contact with his? Or was she just trying to be a good doctor and get him to come so she could get a sample of his sperm? She ran her tongue across her lips, licking up the prec*m smeared all over them, and he felt his cock give another twitch at the sight. X grinned, delighted, and Miguel guessed that he must have nodded his head without even realising it. Because then she was standing in front of him, her pretty little body completely bare before him so that he could trail his eyes over her tanned skin and her perky tits and her perfectly curved waist. “Mierda.” 

     His cock jerked at the sight of her naked and X giggled before climbing up onto the bed and straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, bringing her mouth close to his. 

     “I’m still going to need that sample, Dr O’Hara,” she informed him, her voice low and seductive as she spoke. She tilted her head and he followed the movement, his lips chasing hers instinctively. She grinned at the dazed look on his face and pressed her lips to his gently, brushing them against his as she spoke. “Are you going to give it to me? Are you gonna … Are you gonna come for me, Miguel? Or am I gonna have to make you?” 

     He slid his hands along her sides as they kissed, groaning at the feeling of her tongue tangling with his - mierda, she tasted sweet - then he lowered his hands to her ass and dug his fingers into her soft flesh before tugging her even closer to him. “F*ck, you’re so soft. And so f*cking pretty.” 

     X chuckled against his lips as she continued to move her mouth against his, her hands sliding into his hair to tangle in the strands. “Prettier than Dr Jefferson?” 

     Miguel didn’t respond, choosing instead to move his hands around to her breasts as he continued to lick into her mouth. X gasped as he began to knead her breasts gently, then she felt her p*ssy start to leak again as he circled her nipples with his thumbs. 

     “Mmm, Miguel,” she squeaked into his mouth, her body beginning to contract as he stimulated her. She sank against his chest and he nipped at her lower lip before wrapping his arms around her waist and moving his lips to her neck. Her head fell back as he grazed his teeth along her throat, and she let out a whimper when he nibbled on her collarbone before kissing and licking his way back up to her jaw. “Miguel, do you … Do you want to take your shirt off? You seem … You seem to be running a little hot, Dr O’Hara.”  

     “Mmm,” Miguel moaned against her skin as he glided his hands up her back. He was too focused on how soft she felt in his arms to pay attention to what she was saying. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever.” 

     X let her hands drift down to the hem of his shirt as he continued to press open-mouth kisses to her neck and shoulder, then she pulled his shirt off. 

     “Shit,” she groaned, licking her lips at the sight of his broad chest and hard abdomen. She ran her hands along his glistening skin, appreciating the defined ridges of his muscles, then wrapped herself around him so that her breasts were pressing into his chest. “Mmm, Miguel.” 

     She started kissing him again, rolling her hips against his and delighting in how warm he felt against her, his bare skin sliding against her own. He gripped onto her ass and she giggled as he started moving her harder against him, her soaked p*ssy rubbing against his stiff cock. 

     “Miguel,” X began again, moving her lips to his neck so she could lick the sweat off of his skin. Shit, he tasted good. “Aren’t you gonna come for me, doctor? Aren’t you …” She let out another soft moan and Miguel squeezed her ass again in response. 

     “You want me to come for you?” he asked, slipping his hand in between their bodies to try to find his cock. “You want me to come for you, princesa? I’ll come for you, just … just let me …” He fumbled with his cock, trying to guide it into her hole as she continued to lick and nibble on his neck. Mierda, how was she so wet already? How could she be so aroused by him when he hadn’t even done anything - just sat there and listened to what she’d said? Was she just that attracted to him? Joder, that was hot. 

     “Mmm, you need some help, Miguel?” X asked, grinning when she felt him trying to slide himself into her. “You need to feel my p*ssy squeezing around this deliciously huge cock of yours before you let me get a taste of your c*m?” 

     “F************ck!” Miguel groaned, his head falling back in pleasure at her dirty words. How could she say that? How could his pretty little doctor just sit there and suck on his dick? And then climb up on top of him and tease him with her tight little body? F*ck, she was hot. X leaned forward and nipped at his jaw and he sighed at the feeling before returning his gaze to hers. She continued to fix him with that naughty grin as she curled her fingers around his cock and started sliding him into her.

He dug his fingers into her waist and kept his eyes locked on her face as she wriggled her hips, taking him deeper and deeper into her body. And then he was balls deep inside of her, her warm and wet p*ssy throbbing around his cock pleadingly, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt so good in his life. She reached up to brush her fingers along his cheek, and he clenched his jaw as her body contracted around him. 

     “Miguel!” she whimpered, her lips twisting into a sweet little pout that had him growling and thrusting himself into her insistently. 

     “Yes?” he asked her, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he kept them trained on her face. “Yes, doctor?” Carajo, she felt good, so soft and so f*cking tight around his dick. She gripped onto his shoulders as her body contorted with another contraction and he bit down on her shoulder as his abdomen began to tighten. X slid her fingers into his hair and continued whining and moaning as he kept pumping his cock in and out of her p*ssy. It drove him crazy, the little sounds she kept making, and it wasn’t long until he was coming inside of her, his warm and sticky c*m shooting into her cervix and painting her walls white. She shuddered at the feeling of him filling her up, and then she was coming too, her tight little p*ssy squeezing around his dick and milking him for all he was worth. He kept his arms around her and held her against him until she was done, then she straightened. 

     “Mmm, your flow rate seems good, Dr O’Hara,” she told him, smiling against his mouth as he pressed soft kisses to her lips. She slid her tongue into his mouth and swirled it around before pulling back and getting up off of him. Miguel shifted in position as she began picking her clothes off the floor, his body heating up in embarrassment at the sight of the c*m soaking his thighs. 

     “Uh, don’t you … don’t you need to take a sample?” he asked her, staunchly refusing to meet her gaze. X turned back to him and grinned when she saw him getting all shy again. She bent over and took hold of his cock, bringing her mouth centimetres away from it as she looked up at him. Then she parted her lips and dragged her tongue along his length before closing her mouth around him and licking him up. Miguel sucked in a breath and gripped onto the edge of the bed as she let out a satisfied moan. Finally, she released him with a wet ‘pop’ and stood up again, flashing him a naughty grin.

     “Tastes healthy,” she informed him, sliding her hand up his chest. She leaned forward to kiss him again, spreading the salty taste of him over to his mouth, then she nipped at his lower lip before pulling away from him. “That will be all for today, Dr O’Hara. Don’t forget to make a follow-up appointment with the nurse on the way out - we still have to discuss the results of your blood test.” 

     “Uh, right.” He swallowed hard at the thought of seeing her again; of having to come in and act like nothing had ever happened - like they hadn’t just had sex on her examination bed! But … he did want to see her again. Just … not like this. Miguel slipped his shirt and underwear back on, then fiddled with his belt before pulling his pants back up over his legs. “You know, I could … If you gave me your number, we could … we could always discuss my results over dinner … or something …” 

     He glanced at her from beneath his eyelashes and bit his lip as he waited for her response. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of him nervous before her - at him asking her out! - then she turned back to her desk and grabbed a piece of paper to scrawl her number on it. She swivelled back around to pass him the paper, but pulled her hand away before he could take it. 

     “Or,” she suggested instead, her mind working quickly to come up with a retort, “how about we discuss your results at that follow-up appointment, and then talk about something else at dinner?”

     She held the piece of paper out to him and his lips curled at the corners as he took it from her. “I’d like that, X.” 

     X’s smile stretched even wider at his response and she adjusted her shirt before heading back to her desk. “I’ll see you soon, Miguel!” 

     Before the week was up, if he had anything to say about it. He grinned and gave her a little salute before making his way to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Dr X.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 28-Gynecologist!Miguel x Nervous!Reader (Teasing/Fingering)

*Requested by reader ;) Also, early update due to working both jobs tmw*

        It was that time of year again for you. It was always a nerve racking experience since you always worried about anything being wrong with you. After a long shower, you changed into a fresh pair of clothing, ready for your appointment. The fear of you smelling or sweating or anything for that matter made you nervous. It was just a regular checkup. Nothing changed from last year, so there was going to be nothing wrong.

        Besides, your friend, Lyla, worked at the gynecologist as an assistant. She always helped you calm down. Lyla even tried to set you up with one of her friends. A handsome man named, Miguel O'Hara. You had dated him a few times and found him very attractive. If only you weren't so timid. During those dates you barely uttered a word, just a small squeak here or there. You were honestly surprised that he even asked you out a few more times. 

        You were starting to get comfortable with him. Perhaps on your next date you could ask him about his job and his likes. Miguel was so kind. He was defiantly your type. You even thought about him at night. Gasping lowly, you slapped your cheeks. Now was not a good time to think about Miguel. It would be embarrassing to be wet for your checkup.

"(Y/n)~ Come on in!" Lyla chirped, motioning you inside.

        You took your regularly deep breathes, slowly following Lyla's lead. You friend gave you a quick hug before leading you into a private room. Lyla hummed as she closed the door and asked the routine questions.

"Alright, and did the front desk girl tell you about the new gyno? I hope so,"

"S-She did. I was okay with it being...a male," You whispered, trying to hide your stutter. Lyla just curled her lips into a smile,

"Don't worry, (Y/n)! You'll be perfectly fine! Anyway, how's it going with Miguel?" She asked, changing the topic. Your eyes lit up,

"T-Thank you again for giving me his n-number! He...He is really kind...and sweet. He doesn't r-rush me when I try...try to talk to him," You explained, "He doesn't mind me texting him....instead."

"I told you he was a good one!" Lyla grinned from ear to ear, "He likes you a lot too~"

"H-He does?!"

        Lyla chuckled at your flustered expression. Upon hearing a knock at the door, Lyla hummed as she got you ready. You were getting nervous again. She helped you relax before opening the door.

"Hello, Miss-(Y/n)??" Miguel paused as he stared at you. You squeaked in response before turning to Lyla.

"Oh, totally forgot to mention that Miguel is your new doctor~" She said with a wide grin, "Now I know I'm supposed to stay in here with you both, buuuuuut you guys know each other~ Bye!"

        Just like that, Lyla left both you and Miguel alone. Your face was a million shades of red as you tried to fit your gown, recalling that you were naked in front of the man you were dating. Miguel cleared his throat as he took a seat by the computer. He glanced over your files before turning towards you.

"This must be awkward," He started and read your body language, "Would you like your phone to text me?"

        You nodded violently in response. Miguel resisted a chuckle and went to your pile of clothes on the separate chair and looked for your phone. He glanced at your panties, restraining himself. He gave you the phone and grabbed his, waiting for your response. A smile on his face as he watched you. You were so cute. Someone worth his time. Someone worth his love. Miguel would do anything to keep you happy and relaxed.

'Did you know I was going to be your patient?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at the message,

"No, I just started here two days ago. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I can get another doctor." He replied. You hesitated before typing,

'No, it's okay. I was just surprised. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'

"Not at all," Miguel chuckled lowly and stood from his seat, "Just let me know when you want me to start. I'll take as much time as you need."

        Your eyes soften as you looked at Miguel. You remembered when you first met him. He was so tall and seemed so threatening. Putting your phone to the side, you played with your fingers as you took a deep breathe. You looked into Miguel's eyes and gave him a nod, allowing him to start.

        Miguel was slow and gentle. He asked you to raise your right arm before moving your gown. He watched your facial expressions, making sure that everything was okay. You whimpered quietly as his large hand took ahold of your breast, gently massaging it to check for any lumps. Normally, you would just tremble as the doctor checked you, but this was different. This was Miguel touching you. Something you only dreamed of. Not only was he making you shake from nervousness, but also giving you those dirty thoughts.

"All good on this side, now for the other." Miguel's hand gently trailed your back as he repeated the process on your other breast, "You're shaking, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes," You whispered lowly.

        You inhaled deeply as you tried not to focus on Miguel touching you. He was just doing his job. So what if his large hands felt good as they massaged your breasts. So what if he was more gentle with you than your previous doctors. So what if he smelled amazing? You were here for a check up, not to fantasize on him railing you. It wasn't like you were up for such a task anyway.

"Alright, you're all good there, no lumps. Now for the main part, just let me know when you're ready by propping your legs up for me, okay?" Miguel told you, rubbing your shoulder.

        God, he was so fine. You gave him a nod, watching as he got his gloves and tool ready. Now this, you were embarrassed about. You always hated this part. You could feel your heart about to leap out of your chest. Miguel was about to look at your pussy. You haven't even kissed the man yet and you were about to skip a bunch of steps. It was hard to think about his job now. All you could focus on was Miguel examining your wet pussy.

"U-Um," You gulped, reaching for your phone. Miguel handed it to you,

"Want some water?" He offered.

'No, I'm just...please be gentle with me. I know this is your job, but I can't help but feel even more nervous since we're dating.' You texted him. Miguel looked at his phone and chuckled lowly,

"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" He said, switching his glove, "I won't judge. How could I?" He gave you that sweet smile you loved.

        Nodding once more as he stole your breathe away, you got ready. You placed your feet in the little prompt set up they have and spread your legs. A shiver ran up your spine as the cold air hit your pussy. Miguel tighten his gloves and sat on his chair, rolling towards you. You bit your lower lip as he sat directly in front of your cunt, spreading your legs out even more. This was just a check up. Just a check up and nothing more.

        Miguel withheld a groan as he noticed your cunt already wet. Despite your nervousness, it seemed like you were practically excited for him to be looking at you, to be touching you. This was turning him on. Normally, Miguel would get these over with since every other girl would not hesitate to spread their legs for him. Miguel was loving this change of pace. He was loving everything you did. Miguel wanted to hear your voice. A voice only for his ears.

"Alright, let me know if anything feels uncomfortable. I'm just going to feel around for anything, okay?"

"O-Okay," You stuttered.

        Miguel had to bite his cheek. He proceeded to enter a finger inside you, with holding a groan at how tight you were. So wet and so tight, just for him. As he felt around your velvet walls for anything strange, Miguel could not help but hear a quiet whimper coming from you. He glanced at your expression, watching as you closed your eyes and biting your lower lip. God, Miguel was going to lose his patience with you. He knew that you were only like this because it was him. Lyla had told him about how difficult it was for other doctors to even touch your breasts. The fact that you were letting him do this was just so tempting.

"How are you doing?" Miguel asked. You gasped lowly as he pressed his finger up,

"F-Fine," You said, shaking from his touch.

        Miguel's finger was just exploring your insides for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't like he was actually fingering you. However, his finger was so thick and it was making you hot. You tried to think of something else, but the idea of Miguel doing more was turning you on. You whimpered lowly as you felt yourself clench against his finger. Why did these thoughts have to come now? Miguel was just doing his job and here you were getting horny.

"I'm going to insert the tool now. It will feel uncomfortable for only a second, okay?" He told you.

        You just nodded in response and followed his orders. Once he finished with the tool, Miguel approached you. He was so close. Miguel took his gloves off, bringing his hand to your cheek,

"You did so good for me. Are you okay?" He asked you. 

"Y-Yes," You told him and rubbed your legs slightly, "U-Um...S-Sorry...But...I..."

        Miguel raised a brow and read your body language. Your perky nipples and the juices that were streaming down your cunt were just all so tempting. He glanced into your eyes that screamed, 'fuck me'. Knowing that he couldn't or he would lose his job, Miguel inhaled deeply. He leaned down to peck your lips,

"Can I just say, that you are so goddamn tempting?" He whispered, enjoying your expressions, "I know what you want, and I can't give it to you here...But I can help release that tension."

"P-Please?" You nearly squeaked.

        Miguel nearly cussed. He returned to his chair, sitting directly in front of your poor, lonely cunt. He leaned forward and blew against it, watching you twitch. A smile formed against his lips as he entered two fingers this time. He stood up and pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face contort in pleasure. You were so tight for him. So needy. 

"I want to hear your voice later tonight, could you do that for me?" Miguel whispered in your ear as his fingers pumped into you.

"Hah...hah....Y-Yes....I can," You whimpered a soft moan, raising your hips slightly. 

        Miguel hummed happily and curled his fingers right at your sweet spot. Your body arched as you grinded your hips against his hand. Miguel quickly swallowed your moans with a kiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. As much as he wanted to hear those sweet moans, he knew that if he did, he would fuck you right here and now. Feeling your pussy tighten against his fingers, Miguel curled his fingers again. You held onto him as you reached your orgasm.

"That's it. That's my good girl," Miguel whispered, removing his fingers and licking them, "Taste so sweet. I'll have to reward you later,"

"M-Mig," You whispered, panting softly as you sat up. You reached for you phone, 'Want to come over to my place after work?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at his phone,

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He leaned down to kiss you again, "Get dressed. I'll see you later."

        You smiled softly as Miguel left. Quickly putting your clothes back on, you noticed that your panties were missing. Your face turned a million shades of red, knowing that Miguel must have swiped them. You whined softly before grabbing your phone.

'Please bring my panties back!'

'Sure, when I see you tonight.'

[naeverse]

Tangled in his Webs

Art generated by: Niji • Journey Request from: @migueloharacumslut Ask: And I have a request I forgot rather I submitted or not. Mad scientist Miguel x therapist reader Miguel gets put in a psych ward because he got caught experimenting on people and himself trying to turned them in to spider people. He’s been in the psych ward for five years and he needs to be cleared to go back in the world. That’s where the reader comes in to clear him only he manipulates her into thinking he is sane. During their session Miguel becomes obsessed with the reader and little does he know she is obsessed with him too. At night she touched herself to the thought of him. When Miguel get out he finds her. Make the sex nastyyy, hard and rough little choking wouldn’t hurt either. Please and thank you ! 😊 A/N: I really loved this idea and enjoyed writing Scientist Miguel so much. Might write him more lol, but thank you @migueloharacumslut for the idea. Also this is the first part and a second one will be following this one, hope you enjoy!

💉staring: Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Therapist Reader

      🩵preview:  “I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?” 

🔬summary:  As an evaluation therapist at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing, you are assigned a new patient—one who is complex, captivating, and dangerously drawing you in more than you ever expected.

⚗️tw/cw (Just for this part): Big Dick Miguel, Bondage, Fingering, Masturbation, Psychopathy, Restraints, Sadism, Size Difference, Restraints

🔭Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear)

     🩵Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🥼Word Count: 7.7k 

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real-life individuals or events is purely coincidental. It does not intend to diagnose or represent any real mental health conditions. Thank you for understanding, and I hope you enjoy the story.**

Your eyes fluttered open, consciousness slowly returning. You felt a dull ache and soreness in your throat, accompanied by a pervasive feeling of weakness throughout your body. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead and adjusting to the suffocating sterile scent of antiseptic, you noticed that you were lying on your back against a hard, cold surface.

With furrowed eyebrows, you attempted to sit up, only to be thwarted back by the metal restraints tightly bound around your wrists and ankles.

‘What the heck!?’ 

You thought, panic and fear beginning to grip you. Your eyes darted down to discover yourself clad only in your undergarments—a delicate white, laced satin set—leaving you exposed to the chilling breeze that consistently swept through the well-lit space.

You couldn't remember how you got here; your groggy mind unable to piece together the events that led to your presence upon the metal table. The faint hum of machinery echoed from far away, punctuated by distant murmurs that made your heart drop.

With dazed eyes, you looked around your surroundings to be met with the overbearing shade of a bright white that covered the walls of what looked to be a lab of some sorts. Countertops were lined with an array of perfectly arranged scientific instruments, machines, and beakers.

Shelves held neatly labeled containers, each housing an assortment of chemicals and biological specimens. Despite being well-lit, there were little to no windows present, intensifying the feeling of isolation within the controlled environment. 

The place seemed devoid of humanity, replaced by a location where experimentation and analysis were handled freely without compassion or warmth.

But one thing about the lab really stood out to you: two jars sitting upon the shelves—one full of bloody red eyes and the other with abnormally sharp canines.

The sight almost made you vomit, hastily turning to look away. Your heart and breath were picking up, fear clawing at your being. Although how morbid the otherworldly body parts were, they triggered something in your head.

The more you thought upon it, awareness seeped in like an unwelcome guest; slowly, you began to remember.

The mental facility...

Red eyes...

The flowers...

Sharp canines...

Black glasses...

His release...

Him.

The wine...

Then darkness...

The memories came rushing back so quickly that you weren’t able to keep up, until it all came back to...

Him...

A wave of regret and stupidity overwhelmed you. Never in your life had you felt so worthless.

You should have known...

You should have fucking known...

‘He wasn’t well. He wasn’t fine. You were wrong, so wrong-’

“Good… You are awake.”

The bone-chilling voice of your captor filled the room, sending a familiar chill down your back. With trembling lips, you turned your head to see the backside of a massive male entering the room. His coffee-brown locks styled neatly upon his head, a white lab coat adorning his huge build along with black dress pants and oxfords.

The scientist wore clean attire, perfect for working in the lab, but his outfit was beyond your concern. 

You knew who he was, but you didn’t want to believe it.

You gulped, watching him slap on a pair of white latex gloves upon his large, calloused palms before beginning to inspect the scientific tools that sat upon the nearby counter.

"And here I thought you would have been excited to see me again..." he said in a husky voice, responding to your silence—his Latino accent unmistakable, along with a hint of amusement found in his tone. You felt like an idiot for falling for him, for becoming so fascinated with a madman like him...

But you were still in denial.

You weren’t going to believe it was him until you saw his face...

“T-T-Turn around…” You said hoarsely, the pain in your throat distant underneath the layers of fear and anxiety coursing through your body. At your demand, the large scientist laughed. “Turn around?” He asked slowly, silence following his inquiry, making your body run cold.

Suddenly, he spun around, slamming his palms onto the metal table you laid upon. The abruptness and loud noise made you jump, and a gasp erupted from your lips. His eyes stared directly into yours, holding the same madness that you believed he had cured when you initially met him. But, like before, it wasn’t the insanity in his gaze that made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach...

It was his eyes... 

His teeth...

The scientist’s crimson eyes looked down at you, taking in your discolored skin and half-lidded eyes that were still under a drowsy spell. “I turned around now, are you happy?” He asked with a playful smirk. “Do you recognize me now, dear?” 

Your eyes widened, the look upon your face enough to show the mad scientist that you did, in fact, remember who he was— but you were too speechless to respond, causing the male to chuckle.

“Do I need to give you any more proof that it is I?”

His snickering seemed to reverberate off the walls of your mind as the fluorescent lights of his lab bounced off his razor sharp canines.

With trembling lips and dilated pupils, you looked over his face, your heart breaking more and more because…

It was, indeed, him...

The mad scientist... 

The sexy patient... 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara…

The man you fell for…

White, close-toed wedges clicked upon the mental facility's aged linoleum tiles, the floor's once-bright patterns now a faded, discolored mosaic covered with scuff marks and indistinct stains that revealed the struggles of all who shuffled through the dimly lit corridor. The mental facility, unintentionally, gave off an eerie atmosphere with walls clad in faded, peeling paint and ceilings with bright, flickering fluorescent lights that cast irregular shadows along the cold institutional floor, further giving anyone who traversed the halls the creeps.

You, a therapist meant to evaluate patients for release, were given a new challenge—a patient that held a sadistic background coupled with a remarkable intellect that made many wonders how he found himself inside 'Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing.'

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was your new patient's name, an intelligent scientist who became a little twisted after his discovery of gene splicing. In his pursuit of advancing the human race, he became obsessed with the idea and creation of spider-human hybrids. After many experimentations of creating what is referred to as mutates, he was unsuccessful. Before he could continue with his study, he was arrested and sentenced to seven years here at the institution where it seems he’d made progress.

Whilst you walked towards his cell, taking the seemingly endless halls of the asylum, you looked over his file. Inside were documents containing his personal information, such as full name, date of birth, emergency contact, and next of kin. In the brown folder were also his medical history, psychiatric assessment, diagnostic evaluations, and much more information collected during his time at the institution; however, there were four pieces of his folder that piqued your interest:

Observation logs, Treatment plan, Risk assessment, and lastly, incident reports.

You studied each of the documents to discover the important details that needed to be surveyed before seeing the scientist in person.

_____________________________________ 

Miguel O’Hara - Mental Health File

Patient Information:

Full name: Miguel O’Hara

Date of Birth: 10/13/2070

Appointed into: Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing

Admission Date: 11/10/2099

Emergency Contact: N/A

Next Of Kin: N/A

**The patient has explicitly communicated a desire for their next of kin not to be associated with their mental health treatment, and no detailed information about family members was recorded to respect the patient’s privacy.**

Diagnosis:

Primary Diagnosis: Psychopathy

Secondary Diagnosis: Antisocial Personality Disorder

Treatment Team:

Primary Therapist: Dr. Jessica Owens, Licensed Clinical Psychologist

Psychiatrist: Dr. Peter B. Parker, MD

Nursing Staff: Nurse Mary Jane Watson, RN

_____________________________________ 

Treatment Plan: 

Medications 

Fluoxetine (Prozac) 

Dosage: 20 mg daily

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is prescribed Fluoxetine to address symptoms of irritability that derives from his disorder of Antisocial Personality. 

Lorazepam (Ativan)

Dosage: 0.5 mg as needed (PRN) for anxiety

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is given Lorazepam on an as-needed basis to manage anxiety-related symptoms or impulsivity.

**Its used closely monitored due to the risk of misuse**

Lamotrigine (Lamictal) 

Dosage: Gradual titration starting at 25 mg, with adjustments based on response. 

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara’s treatment plan included Lamotrigine to help stabilize mood swings or emotional dysregulation. 

_____________________________________ 

Incident reports 

Date: 2/3/2100

Incident: Verbal altercation with another patient during group therapy 

Action Taken: Immediate de-escalation and one-on-one session with Dr. Peter B. Parker. 

Date: 6/21/2100

Incident: Refusal to take prescribed medication 

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education 

Date: 10/3/2100

Incident: Refused to attend scheduled group therapy and became verbally aggressive towards staff members

Action Taken: Security staff was called to ensure the safety of other patients and staff. Miguel was later engaged in a one-on-one session to explore the reasons behind his resistance to group participation. 

Date: 1/4/2101

Incident: 2nd occurence of refusal to take prescribed medication 

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education and therapeutic engagement by Dr. Jessica Owens to address any fears or misconceptions related to his prescribed medications. 

Date: 4/18/2101

Incident: Observed by Nurse Mary Jane Watson of the patient hoarding various items in his room, including non-permissible objects. 

Action taken: Staff conducted a room check, confiscated unauthorized items, and discussed appropriate belongings with Miguel. A follow-up session with his therapist, Dr. Jessica Owens was scheduled to explore any underlying concern. 

Date: 3/21/2102

Incident:  Engaged in a physical altercation with another patient during a recreational activity 

Action taken: Immediate intervention by staff to separate the individuals involved. Both parties were assessed for injuries, and a report was filed. Increased monitoring and a review of Miguel’s treatment plan were conducted to address potential triggers for aggressive behavior

_____________________________________

Risk Assessments: 

Current Risk level: Moderate 

Factors: History of aggression, resistance to treatment, potential for manipulative behavior 

Interventions: Increased monitoring, ongoing assessment for potential triggers 

_____________________________________

Observation Logs: 

Date/Time: 8/16/2102, 2:30 PM

Observation: Miguel exhibited signs of increased irritability during the group mindfulness session. Requested to leave the session prematurely. 

Staff comments: Noted Miguel’s discomfort during mindfulness exercises. Alternative relaxation techniques were explored for future sessions. 

Date/Time: 12/2/2103, 10:00 AM

Observation: Miguel was observed engaging in a one-on-one conversation with staff during morning indoor activities. Discussed personal interests and aspirations. 

Staff comments: Encouraged Miguel’s open communication. Noted his ability to articulate personal interest, fostering a sense of connection with staff. 

Date/Time: 2/15/2104, 6:45 PM 

Observations: Spends most of his time in the facility’s library, engrossed in reading.

Staff Comments: Positive use of leisure time observed. Reading contributed to a sense of routine and engagement. 

Date/Time: 6/23/2104, 8:30 PM 

Observations: Attended the evening group therapy, contributing to discussions on coping strategies. Demonstrated empathy towards a fellow patient sharing personal challenges.

Staff Comments: Noted Miguel’s willingness to engage in group discussions and support peers. Positive progress in developing empathy and interpersonal skills. 

**Miguel O’Hara has exhibited excellent improvement and staff believes he can be released in 2105, instead of 2107.**

_____________________________________

You closed his folder, taking a look at the photo that decorated the front. Like many patients at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing (NYS-MH), Miguel O’Hara didn’t look like a dangerous individual; he was actually quite handsome—with dark, wavy locks that framed his olive, chiseled face and amber eyes shielded by a pair of black eyeglasses; Dr. O’Hara wasn’t a bad-looking guy.

To ponder upon the atrocities, he could have committed for the sake of science was baffling as you gazed at the photo. The more you inspected the image, the happier you became at the fact he was doing better - better enough to be released back into society.

It was why you were here, anyway…

You tucked the folder under your arm and continued your walk towards his room, passing steel doors that lined the corridor, each secured with heavy bolts and reinforced locks to keep the patients contained and prevent them from harming themselves or others. Occasionally, muffled echoes of distant cries and disjointed whispers seeped through the cracks, adding to the unsettling symphony of the troubled minds that dwelled within.

You've walked these halls many times, but there was something about today that really made your skin crawl. So, it was relieving when you finally found Miguel O’Hara’s room, number 209.

Two guards stood on either side of his door, present only for emergencies. With a deep breath and slight adjustments to the white top, black blazer, and bodycon skirt that covered you, you gave each of them a nod and unlocked his door with a key, entering Miguel’s room…

Upon stepping inside, you instantly took notice of the soft, muted tones of blues and greens dominating the color palette, bringing a sense of serenity to the room. The patient's sleeping area contained the normal necessities—a comfortable bed with crisp, clean linens and a modest seating area. The furniture was arranged in an open and uncluttered manner, with personal touches here and there by the patient himself or for safety precautions. 

For his adoration for reading and science, a small shelf was placed inside his room, displaying a few books and a potted plant, offering familiarity to the scientist.

Your eyes shifted to the large, muscular male who sat upon his bed, dressed in a white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and slip-on shoes. His massive backside faced you as it seemed he was engrossed in writing, his huge hand moving gracefully upon the page he was working on.

You cast a glance at the camera positioned in the corner of the ceiling in his room, placed there for monitoring and to ensure the patient, and others remain safe. After making sure the camera blinks red twice, showing its activity, you approach him with light steps.

"Miguel O’Hara?" you called out to him in a soft voice, not wishing to disrupt him. All of his movements came to a halt, his body rigid as his large hand placed the pen he was using into the open journal before slowly closing it. You watched him set the book down beside him on the bed, wondering if the handsome male you saw on the photo would be the same seated before you.

It seemed you were watching with batted breath for him to turn around and when he did, the sight of him shocked you and made your heart skip a beat.

You knew from his photo, the male would be gorgeous—so attractive that if he weren't your patient, you'd probably gush over him from afar. But it wasn't his attractiveness that made your breath hitch.

He looked completely different.

He looked…

Otherworldly.

With a cold expression, you stared back at a pair of crimson eyes covered with black eyeglasses, a small smile spreading across his tanned lips, revealing a set of sharp canines. “You must be the therapist that is to evaluate me. Right, Querida?” He inquired with a hum, his deep voice holding a Latino accent. 

You gulped at the intensity of his abnormal scarlet orbs, subconsciously clenching his brown folder in your hands and giving him a nod. “Y-Yes, I am,” you replied, stepping back to give the large male room to stand, and when he did…

He was like a giant…

The bed creaked at his ascent as his massive being towered over you, your head tilting up to maintain eye contact. Choking back how intimidated you were, you gestured over to the small seating area of two white cushioned chairs and a table in the corner of his room. “L-Let’s sit over here to talk,” you proposed, and for a moment, he just stood there, gazing down at you like a mere ant before his tight-lipped smile returned.

With an approving grunt, he stepped in front of you; with his powerful, long legs, it took him little to no time to reach the comfort area and settle down into the white chair, the seat creaking under his heavy weight. You followed behind him, moving to sit across from your new patient and shifting into a comfortable position.

When your eyes met the male's, his crimson eyes were already staring at you, lingering upon your body in a way that made you feel like a microbe under a telescope. You gave him a polite smile, shaking off the unsettling feeling that always rose within you when speaking with the patients. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Miguel O’Hara. My name is Dr. Y/LN, and as you’ve been informed, I am the therapist here to evaluate you for your release.” You explained sweetly, watching every part of the patient, who remained completely motionless, simply continuing to stare back at you with an expression devoid of all emotion.

“It’s nice to see a new face, doctor. It can get rather boring here,” he uttered, using his middle finger to push his black eyeglasses up the bridge of his broad nose.

You placed his folder down upon the table, turning it to not reveal his photo on the front; you've learned from past experiences that the sight tended to worry them. Bringing your legs to cross over each other, you clasped your hands, placing them on your lap. “Boring?” you asked with furrowed brows. “Why don’t we speak about your time here first, Dr. O’Hara? Is that okay with you?” The inquiry left your lips in a soothing tone, one that calmed most patients upon hearing it; but with this patient, you couldn’t quite tell—he hid his emotions too well.

“Well, maybe not boring…repetitive is a better word,” he corrected himself. “But, dear, I’m fine with speaking of my time here.” He replied with a smile, placing his hands upon the armrests and widening his stance. Your eyes drifted to run along his inviting toned thighs adorned by a pair of gray sweatpants that did little to conceal the curves of the muscles underneath. 

You also took notice of his posture; taking a mental note of openness from the patient before you asked your question, “Well then, may I ask how you are doing during morning activities? It's stated that you prefer Creative Arts Therapy in the mornings, correct?”

He nodded, his sharp canines peeking out from between his lips as he spoke. “Indeed, mostly during Creative Arts Therapy, I write,” he explained in a deep voice. “I’ve grown to learn that to better settle my thoughts is to put them on paper.”

“And that is an excellent form of therapy that you’ve discovered for yourself, Dr. O’Hara. May I ask, what exactly do you write?” You asked, trying to ignore the faint sight of madness in his crimson orbs. “I write down my thoughts, ideas, and aspirations,” he simply said. 

You hummed, giving him a smile. “How about future plans? Do you write about those?” At your question, he snickered, giving you a wry, dismissive head shake. “I…don’t write much on that,” he replied. “I’ll hate to get my hopes up,” he added in an amused, yet somewhat disheartened tone.

“Get your hopes up?” you inquired, eyebrows creasing in confusion. “May you elaborate, Dr. O’Hara?” The male nodded, his large fingers stroking the armrest of his chair in a deep caress. “I do not wish to anticipate that I will be released early,” his caresses of the chair never ceasing, and his eyes trained on his moving fingers.

You studied him, taking in his deflated voice and how he spoke in a slow manner. Your gaze shifted to take in the intricate motion his fingers moved upon the armrest as there were multiple reasons a patient would do such a thing.

He could be nervous, frustrated, impatient, or simply doing it to comfort himself. Recalling his mannerisms from previously, you could cross out your thought of him being nervous; the way the scientist carried himself was in a way of confidence that couldn’t be faked, so it left you with the last three—frustration, impatience, or comfort.

Without further observation, you couldn’t pinpoint his reasoning for his odd gesture, instead giving him a soft grin and replying to his previous words of anticipation. “I understand your concerns about getting your hopes up, especially considering that you were rewarded with an early release date based on your wonderful behavior as of late,” you sympathized, “So it’s completely normal to feel cautious about expectations,” you said, taking in the abnormally muscular male before you. 

“But let’s explore these feelings, shall we? Let’s say you are released in the next two weeks; what would your life look like, Dr. O’Hara?” you asked, deeply intrigued by his answer.

A moment of silence filled the room after your inquiry, the doctor continuing to make intricate patterns upon the armrest with his finger before his red eyes returned back to you. A nervous chuckle rumbled from his chest—the sound restoring life back into the room. “Ahh, I always get stumped on that question. It's another reason I haven’t written much about it in my journal.”

You nodded, placing your hands upon your legs. “Well, let’s start small,” you proposed with a grin. “You seem to have taken a liking to the hobby of writing while staying here at NYS-MH. Would you like to expand on that?” Miguel gave you a thoughtful hum, his pointer finger continuing to glide against the armrest of his chair. 

“I’ve…always wanted to write a book.” Your eyes snapped from his fingers to rest upon his chiseled face, surprise and amazement present upon your facial features at his desire. “Oh really? And what would that book be about?”

“Genetics, of course.” He chuckled, the mention of his past interest that caused his descent into madness making your heart skip a beat. Your eyes narrowed, the amazement fading from your being. You leaned back into your chair, keeping your composure.

“Are you still interested in Genetics, Dr. O’Hara?” Your inquiry being met with a nod from the patient, one that he didn’t hesitate on responding with. “I’ve worked in the field for almost my entire life and I’m exceptionally good at it.” He explained with a voice of knowledge in a low, deep whisper. “So why would I abandon my hard-earned skills and education?” 

His reasoning on his maintained attachment to the field was an excellent one, but like many things, it could be a trigger; causing the once cured doctor to revert back to his old ways of sadism and horrendous acts for the sake of science. This potential trigger would not only bring harm to everyone once more but erase the hard work that Miguel had achieved at the mental institution to fix. 

You cleared your throat before speaking. “I…understand your desire to write a book about Genetics. It’s an intriguing subject.” You said, preparing yourself to ask a question that would surely strike the doctor. “But considering the circumstance of your past experiments and the impact they had, how do you plan to approach the topic responsibly?” You asked, watching his reaction closely in anticipation. 

After your question it seemed as if everything stopped—froze even… 

You gazed at Miguel taking in his tanned face that stared back at you. His crimson eyes were empty behind his black frames and his posture was completely still in his seat. 

You’ll think he was a statue…

“Dr. O’Hara?” You called out to him which seemed to snap him from his thoughts. His red eyes slowly shifted to you, his tanned lips pulling into a small smile. 

“Responsibility, my dear therapist, is such a heavy word…” He said with a smirk. “But I wish to ask, what compelled you to work with the mental? It’s a challenging profession for those with weaker minds.” Miguel said, casting an odd aura upon the room with his every word. “I should know…many say they are for the discovery of science and when the time presents itself, they get cold feet.” He stated, his finger ceasing its movement upon the armrest. 

It wasn't unusual for a patient to desire to ask you a question, but the way he gazed at you with his intense eyes and how his gravelly voice caused a shiver to run down your spine made you hesitant, which the patient seemed to have noticed. “I only ask since you handle your job so beautifully.” He complimented, his eyes taking in your seated position. “I only wish to know what led you here before me.” The words left the patient’s lips in an ominous manner, however, upon saying such a thing his olive face held a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

His fanged grin, oddly, sent a wave of warmth through your being and caused you to forget your reply to his question. You shifted in your seat, trying to keep your composure and recall your departed answer. “W-well, I…umm… entered this field by the simple fact of being interested in psychology a-and the way the mind works.” You replied once you found the words, unable to hide the stammering of your voice due to how unnerving everything was becoming. Miguel nodded slowly, running his tongue along the tip of his fang, the action drawing your attention. 

“Your interest in the subject of the mind is rather…fascinating.” Abruptly, he leaned up in his seat, resting his elbows upon his knees and invading your personal space. Your heart skipped a beat at his suddenness and at being able to see just how abnormal and captivating his scarlet eyes and sharp fangs were; it caused goosebumps to rise upon your skin at the mere sight. 

“I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied. 

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?” He grinned, the fluorescent lights of his room bouncing off his sharp fangs as his eyes were filled with a hint of amusement, though it was impossible to ignore how it seemed he was toying with you. 

“I…see individuals, like you, as people who have become lost in the darkness and just need assistance in finding the light once more.” You stated, his eyebrow raising and a chuckle escaping him at your answer. “A bold claim…” He said, his eyes tracing your figure and lingering upon how tightly you were now grasping your skirt.  

“For a little thing like you…” 

Miguel muttered imperceptibly that you almost didn't hear him. “E-Excuse me?” You asked in shock and with furrowed eyebrows causing the patient to snicker, shaking his head. “Just that your view is a unique way of thinking and a…intriguing one, in fact.” He said, leaning back in his chair and adopting a relaxed position once more. 

“It’s really fascinating how intellectual you are, doctor.” He grinned. “Few possess the ability to navigate the labyrinth of thoughts of the mental. I applaud you on that.” Miguel praised, returning back to running his palm along the white armrest whilst giving you his undivided attention. 

In your gut, you knew his recalling of the statement said previously was false, you were certain he said something that was out of the norm. 

But could you have mistaken? 

You took in his face, taking note of how he gazed at you. The scientist was attractive, and normally during your job you were able to ignore that appealing quality and complete the task at hand, but right now, it seems impossible. 

The way his red eyes ran along your body like he was undressing you, made you blush. You couldn’t explain it, but you were stuck between your desires and your sense of reason. 

You were aware of Miguel’s sadistic mannerisms and how there could be a chance he wasn’t fully well as he lets on, it was why you were here, but the longer you spoke with him, the more the task at hand was leaving you. 

However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease he gave you at times. 

“M-May I ask how have you been feeling lately? Any changes?” You asked, changing the topic and settling your eyes upon Miguel once more to see him smirking. “It’s all been the same, doctor.” He began. “We have group therapies on Wednesday, daily morning activities and indoor activities…” He said, wetting his lips with the swipe of his tongue, the sight causing the tips of your ears to burn red. 

Sometime while he was speaking, you shamefully zoned out to taking in how sexy he looked. 

His white shirt tightly hugged his body, giving one a view of his hardened nipples, defined pecs, and washboard abs. Every curve of muscle was accentuated under the white fabric that teased anyone who saw. The muscles of his legs pressed against his gray sweatpants, and your eyes widened slightly at being able to make out the enormity that rested against his thigh.  The sight causing you to bite your lip…

“Querida?” 

The sexy patient called out to you, snapping you from your trance. “Y-Yes!?” You inquired, clearing your throat and taking a more assertive and relaxed position to try and dismiss your previous lack of professionalism. Miguel snickered. “It seemed you were off somewhere else…and here I thought that was my job.” He joked, causing you to chuckle nervously. 

“M-My apologies. You may continue.” You replied, wishing to proceed as if none of that happened. Miguel smirked, his crimson eyes roaming along your body before his finger began to tap upon the armrest.

“In my leisure, I write in my journal, read, or tend to my plant.” He finished, keeping it short and gesturing to the bookshelf in the room that held a pot of beautiful flowers. You smiled seeing how the black flowers bloomed upon the shelf. 

“May I ask, what is it that you write in your journal?” You asked, looking back at him to see his eyebrows furrowed. “It wouldn’t be ethical if I asked what you write in your diary, would it, doctor?” He inquired, causing you to instantly become regretful of your words. You casted him an apologetic look. “M-My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

“No…it’s fine. Your fascination is interesting…” He trailed off, a tap of his finger following your words. You glanced back over at his plant once more, the flower really captivating you. “The plant is family to the Calla Lilies.” Miguel answered before you could even ask, looking over at you as you continued to inspect the plant from your seat. “Hmm…I’ve never seen a plant like this.” 

“Because this plant, in particular, is very rare.” He explained. “Native to South Africa, Escape, is a very rare find.” Miguel said with a fanged grin. “It’s why I made it mandatory that it was brought with me when I was assigned at NYS-MH.” 

You stared in awe at the abnormally black flower. This was your first time seeing a plant of pitch blackness that hadn’t already withered away, but Miguel’s next words grabbed your attention. 

“But one day while tending to my flowers, I hit an…epiphany of sorts.”  Miguel told you, causing you to cock your head in puzzlement. 

His words intrigued you…

“May I ask what epiphany you reached, Dr. O’Hara?” At your question, Miguel gave you a look of appreciation and sincerity. “I understand that upon my arrival, I wasn’t…in the best state of mind.” He said with a sigh. “But after being here, I feel like I’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” You asked, bringing a small smile to his lips. “I…believe I’m ready to see the world again.” He answered, giving you a genuine look of certainty. 

His realization filled you with gratification. You reached for his brown folder, believing he had, indeed, improved. The first major step for the patient was seeing that they were initially unwell, which the patient had achieved. 

“I’m greatly pleased with your recognition of this epiphany of yours, Dr. O’Hara.” You said, holding his folder in your hands. “But I believe you are ready to answer some more serious questions.” You said, glancing up at him. “Are you ready?” You asked, seeking permission of his state of mind before proceeding. 

With a nod from Miguel, you opened his folder, pulling out a few of his documents to begin asking more serious questions regarding them. “I’ve noticed in your next of kin that you asked for them to not be aware of your mental treatment.” You began, looking up at Miguel to see him already gazing back at you, his crimson orbs trained on you. The sight made your heart flutter. “M-May I ask how you would cope on the outside without your familial relations knowing of t-the treatments and necessary tools you've learned whilst being here?” At your inquiry, Miguel’s face hardened, his crimson eyes darkening.

“Well, you see, my dear therapist, family can be a bit…overwhelming.” He uttered, tapping his finger against the armrest once more like a metronome; his eye contact never breaking. “I’ve decided to take a more independent route for now.” He explained in a deep, slow voice. “But friends, colleagues—people who don't burden me with unnecessary questions about the past are who I seek.” He said, his voice holding a hint of coldness as his jaw clenched. 

“Because, it’s important to focus on the present and the future, rather than the past, don’t you think…

Doctor?” 

You gulped, his words seeming to have you in a vice. It was as if he had some kind of control over you, all of the rules and regulations you learned whilst being an evaluation therapist at NYS-MH faded from your mind. You couldn’t figure out what you found so enticing about him. 

Was it the way he looked or behaved? How he seemed to speak with such intellect in a tone of voice that could lull one to sleep?   

You were puzzled…

But you were certain something was happening, and it was greatly affecting you and your ability to think clearly. 

You hesitantly nodded, clenching his folder and feeling your cheeks redden once again.  “T-That is correct.” You agreed, not believing what you were saying. “I would understand your desire to look past your previous mistakes and move forward.” You uttered, trying to keep your attention on the patient. 

“Indeed…Mistakes.” He smirked, a small chuckle passing his lips, his finger seeming to tap against the armchair after your words. Your eyes looked from his hand and to his face, studying how his coffee-brown locks blowned gently in the breeze from the vent overhead, and to his defined cheekbones and broad nose that made him even more captivating… 

 “Have any more questions for me, doctor?” 

You jumped at his inqury, noticing you were just staring at him. 

What the hell was wrong with you?!

A little disheveled, you fumbled through the folder for the next pages of information you sought, picking up his documents on his treatment plan of medications and his incident reports. “Umm…I-I wanted to ask about your medications.” You began, wetting your lips and holding the papers up to hide behind them. “T-There were two occurrences where you refused to take your medication. M-may I ask why you refused?” You asked, peeking around the paper to see the patient adjust his black eyeglasses upon his face along with the repeated thudding of his finger upon the chair. 

“I must ask, how would you feel if someone took away your identity?” 

“W-what?!” You asked in surprise, lowering the pages hastily. A laugh rumbled from his broad chest, giving you a clear view of his otherworldly fangs that made the pit of your stomach twist into knots. “You heard me, doctor.” He stated in a manner that was to be amusing but only made one disturbed. 

“What if someone was trying to force you to be someone else? Someone you are not?” He asked, causing you to chew your inner cheek and ponder his question. “I…I guess I wouldn’t like that.” 

“Indeed…” He replied. “Any creature would despise the fact of forced transformation of oneself. It’s the reason you cannot simply change a savage tiger to being a tamed kitten in your home.” The dark-haired male explained. “It’s because a tiger would always cling to its savage ways, it's what keeps them alive—it’s what they enjoy.”  

“That’s…a great analogy, Dr. O’Hara.” 

“Why thank you, dear.” Miguel replied with a smirk before his old expression shifted to hold furrowed eyebrows and a frown—a set of facial features that instantly tugged at your heart. “But…the true reason I refused my medication was because…” He heaved a deep sigh, biting his lip. “The depressants make me sleepy and tired all the time, and…the idea of having to depend on medicine to stabilize my irritability and emotions is rather disheartening to me.” He said in a sorrowful voice. “I refused them because I believe I can be better without them.” 

You listened closely to his words, taking note of his concerns and feeling rather empathetic. “In all honesty, how would you explain your current mental health condition?” You asked, placing your compassionate eyes upon him. 

He gave you a heartfelt smile, one that made your heart soar. “Like I said previously, I feel better, Doctor.” Miguel said in genuinely. “I’ve seen the errors in my ways and am deeply disgusted by what I’ve done to innocent individuals…t-too myself.” He said, looking away at the ground in shame. 

“I wish to return back into society and start anew.” He replied. “Be the man that I’ve wanted to be—not some madman who allowed his idea to get too out of hand that led to the deaths of innocence.” Miguel professed to you with an emotional and hearty voice. 

You nodded slowly as you noticed his scarlet eyes flicker down to your hands that held the brown folder. “Doctor…

May I?” 

Dr. O’Hara asked, extending his large, calloused hand to you, seeking your palm. Your eyes widened, thickly gulping and looking back up to meet his red orbs that seemed to suck you in—enticing you to take it. 

Physical connection with patients were strictly forbidden, but the sadden look of desperation upon his face led you to take his hand. You placed the brown folder upon the table before resting your hand in his large palm, and instantly yours looked to have shrunken in size. With a fluttering heart and belly, you met his eyes and instantly melted under his crimson eyes. 

“Please, Cariño. I assure you, I’ll be on my best behavior.”  

The patient affirmed, giving your hand an affectionate squeeze, following his heartfelt promise. Your breath caught in your throat at his genuine gaze and words. 

From his evaluation, you couldn’t help but agree that he was ready…

He didn’t utter a word of sadism or show signs of insanity, revealing his first diagnosis of Psychopathy was treated or can be suppressed. He exhibited signs of sympathy for his victims, and also didn’t become angry at triggering questions, displaying that his second diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder was also cured or treated. 

Like he said…

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was ready. 

You gave him a small smile, placing your free hand atop of his as Miguel’s eyes shifted down to your kind gesture and back onto your face. “Okay…I believe you.” You said, caressing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’ll be sure to send in your evaluation report that you are good to go.” You told him, but as an evaluation therapist you weren’t supposed to say, but you couldn’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth. 

Giving him a departed smile, you released his hands and collected your things. His touch still burned into your skin and left you yearning for more of him. 

You felt his abnormal eyes on you as you went to the door. Suddenly, upon putting your hand on the doorknob, a cold shiver ran down your back—one that instantly made you come to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unsettling sensation, causing you to bite your lip in nervousness.

“And Miguel…” You called out to him, using his name and looking over your shoulder at the dark-haired male. His tanned, chiseled face held an expression of hidden joy and interest as he turned towards you, his attention captured by your call whilst he remained seated in his chair

You clenched the folder tightly, hastily shifting your gaze to meet his scarlet eyes—the previous feeling of discomfort and unease vanishing.

“I-I hope you keep your word.” You said in a voice full of reverence. Miguel returned your words with a reassuring smirk, his sharp canines poking from over his bottom lip. 

“You have my word, Doctor.  I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

After turning in Dr. Miguel O'Hara’s evaluation report and going home, the scientist was still on your mind.

The way the doctor looked at you with his beautiful red eyes from behind his black spectacles, with a gaze of interest, to the fanged smiles and smirks he gave you—merely thinking about it made your cheeks redden.

You bit your lip, feeling a need to cure this desire for him, but you decided to push it away. You couldn’t feel this way about him…

You couldn’t…

…

..

But you did…

Extremely…

You lay under the blankets of your bed, tossing and turning as every time you closed your eyes to sleep, he would fill your mind. 

Especially the glimpse you got of his package. 

How his massive member was accentuated underneath the gray fabric of his sweatpants, revealing how thick and long he was. 

The remembrance made you drool… 

It had been forever since you’d touched yourself. Being a therapist at a mental facility was a rather time-consuming job, and you weren’t really interested in the many men who tried to get your attention.

Until him… 

Why did it have to be him of all people? 

It was a guilty pleasure, that was for sure—to have fallen so hard for this doctor, your patient who had many wounds that still needed healing.

But oddly, his wounds only pulled you in even more…

You bit your lip, allowing your hands to begin roaming along your body, imagining they were his calloused ones—remembering how his large hands practically engulfed yours when holding his hand, and how rough they felt.

Oh, how good it would feel if they were the ones touching you. 

Giving your clothed breasts a squeeze through your shirt, you moaned softly. Despite his past of being sadistic and cruel to others, you imagined him being gentle with you—caressing your body and touching you in a way that stole your breath every time. You arched your back as your thumb barely flicked over your pebbled nipples, drawing a whimper from your lips.

Your panties were heavily drenched in your juices due to your core's insistent pleas for stimulation and touch. Finally satisfying yourself, with a sharp tug, you pulled your panties down, freeing your pulsating pussy. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, hastily getting into a comfortable position on your back and allowing your legs to fall apart. With closed eyes, you allowed thoughts of Dr. O'Hara to guide your movements. 

His massive hand ran along your abdomen, teasing you with his skilled fingertips and trailing lower. A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers brushed softly along your throbbing bud and soppy folds, spreading your juices along the sensitive area.

You imagined Dr. O'Hara above you, his red eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he smirked down at you, pressing his large middle finger into your entrance. You moaned, feeling his finger filling your tight walls. 

Whimpers escaped your lips at how good his finger felt inside of you, your back arching in desire for more of him. His smirk broadened at your eagerness, as he slowly drew his finger out to the tip before pushing back in, quickly finding a rhythm and keeping at it with each thrust.

Your toes curled, burying your face in your inner elbow as you continued to finger your wet pussy, wishing Dr. O'Hara was here, but imagining would have to do. It wasnt long before a heat began to pool in your lower belly, your breathing picking up. 

"Taking my fingers so well, dear," Dr. O'Hara whispered into your ear, gently nipping along your lobe and throat, his fangs grazing your skin. You whined into your arm, his fingers picking up speed and hooking just right inside your pussy, bringing you to your blissful end. 

With a loud cry, your thighs trembled horribly as your juices spilled in hot spurts, soaking your hand and the sheets underneath. 

Your eyes fluttered close, trying to overcome the buzz that overwhelmed your body after your release. It took a moment, but when you caught your breath and your vision settled, you withdrew your fingers from your pussy, casting your eyes upon them to see that they, not Dr. O'Hara's, were covered in your juices. You exhaled in disappointment. 

Despite how good it felt imagining it was him, you couldn't help wanting Dr. O'Hara in the physical…

"I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?" 

As you lay there, still tinglinh from your pleasurable moment, his words filled your head, leaving you to ponder his question once more. 

Did you believe him to be a puzzle that only you could solve? In the moment, you said no, but deep down, you wanted nothing more than to thoroughly fix him.

Like many patients upon being released, they still faced numerous challenges, including reentering society, finding a job, and avoiding triggers, after departing from NYS-MH.

He was going to need help, and with all your heart, you wanted to be there for him. 

And you were going to. 

No matter what…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first part of 'Tangled in his Webs.' 😆I really enjoyed writing Miguel in this persona as it was different and honestly fun, especially with him being a darker character. It was rather new for me writing in this manner, despite some challenges here and there, I'm overall proud of the outcome and I hope you are too!

@migueloharacumslut, thanks so much for the request, and I hope you are even more happier that it's to be more than one part, lol. But once again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask. I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! 💙💙

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedeva @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywatty @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne @lynxslokley @rice-wife @oharasfilipinawife @migueloharastruelove @rodriash002 @e1f-boi @user3732094737 @truth-dare-spin-bottles @taleiak @alurafairy

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(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[iheartyvesss]

boyfriend joel miller hcs

joel miller x younger!reader

i love southern men with my whole heart - a texan w a thing for her own accent ♥︎

this was very rushed bcs im working on a bigger joel and miguel fic right now so i just wanted to put something minor out while i did this

sfw & nsfw hcs! mentions of: breeding, dumbification, age gap (reader is 28, joel’s 34), pussy eating & fingering, that’s all i think?

post outbreak hcs here!

boyfriend!joel who feels his pretty young girlfriend is too good for him. he sees the way your eyes light up at the most miscellaneous of things and simply adores the way you’re the sunshine to his rainy day. he feels that you should have a chance to get settled and be happy, not be with your neighbor that just-so-happens to be an old man in need of a break. his feelings don’t matter, though, because everytime you come back from work you’re immediately at his house, smiling sweetly at him and pressing the softest of kisses to his lips.

boyfriend!joel who can’t take his eyes off of you while you take care of his sarah. the way you cook breakfast for her in his shirt and some shorts and dance around with his little girl while listening to “hey ya!” by outkast. sarah dances while mixing the pancake mix you’d ask her to, and you take care of the eggs and bacon. joel’s heart hasn’t felt this full since sarah was born. it’s on this day that joel realizes he wants to marry you. give you the kids you wistfully speak about while watching sarah fall asleep between the two of you. he wants to give you the family you deserve.

boyfriend!joel who glares at sarah’s soccer coach that keeps ogling you everytime you come to watch his little girl play. he doesn’t care what you wear, the short shorts and replica of sarah’s jersey are the least of his concern. it’s the eyes of the coach, amongst other fathers attending the game, that pisses him off. he knows not to make a scene because sarah would kill him, probably wouldn’t speak to him for days, but he can’t help the way his fist clenches and his teeth grind together. his anger clears when your sweet giggle floats through his ears, and your free hand that you’d been holding a sprite in tangles with his own. “you can’t possibly be jealous, baby.” you’d purred, grinning up at your boyfriend. “i’m goin’ home with you and my little girl after this. don’t worry about who’s lookin’ joel, they can look all they want.”

boyfriend!joel who takes pride in his girlfriend having a better job than him. you’re 28, fresh out of medical school with a doctorate in orthopedics. you work at the hospital down the street from sarah’s school and joel swears he has never been this attracted to scrubs before. he remembers the time you had to bring him lunch because he’d left it, and he can only presume you were on break or didn’t have any patients because you’d arrived in your scrubs with a happy smile on your face. “joel ‘s that your girl?” “mmmhm, that’s my doctor.”

boyfriend!joel who cannot for the life of him keep his hands to himself. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, joel is going to have this hands on you! when you’re going grocery shopping his hand is settled on you waist, walking in step with you as you browse the aisles. sarah usually trots ahead of you two while talking about soccer or her school day if you’ve gone afterwards. when you’re at home, even if you’re just watching a movie or cooking, he’s kissing the side of your head and asking you the most miscellaneous of questions. you’ve discovered his love language is physical touch. (as if you could miss it)

nsfw headcanons ↓

boyfriend!joel who eats you out like he’s never eaten before. he’s dragging his tongue through your folds while his fingers busy themselves with rubbing your puffy clit. he’s made you cum once already by ordering you to use him, to move your hips as you needed to cum on his face. now he’s ignoring your cries for him to slow down, your soft cry of “‘s too much” only fuels him further, makes him eat your pussy like a madman. joel knows what makes you tick, he knows what spots to hit to make that pretty cunt clench and he does it for you every. single. time.

boyfriend!joel who can’t help but to fuck you dumb. he’s never trying to overwhelm you, to make you go stupid on his cock. no that’s never his intention. but he can’t deny how pretty you look with your eyes glossed over, fingers digging into his back, and your lips parted in nothing but ecstasy. he enjoys the way his smart girl loses all her senses with a little dick. he enjoys knowing his smart girl is just a slut with a degree, and it makes him harder the more he thinks about it.

boyfriend!joel who couldn’t control himself after you mentioned wanting kids. you’re talking with your friends that’d come over for a bit, and the statement comes out soft and sweet. “i want kids, i just don’t know if joel wants to start over.” you’d hummed, smiling softly at your friend’s 6 month old daughter. the evening passed quickly after that, and with sarah gone with her friends, joel has the entire night to make sure you have that baby you want so badly. it isn’t long before you find yourself in full nelson, pussy gushing and tears falling from your eyes. “joel- oh-” you gasp out as your eyes roll and your pussy tightens around your boyfriend’s dick. joel groans from above you, pulling his hips all the way out to snap them back against you. “aht, baby, you gotta take it all. you wanted a baby, i jus’ gotta give it to you. take it pretty mama, take this dick.”

boyfriend!joel who talks you through every orgasm. either the sweetest of phrases leavehis lips or the nastiest. joel likes to watch you fall apart with a satisfied grin on his face. “that’s it, my good girl. mmhm, let go f’me sweet girl. that’s it- jus’ like that baby.” and he’s leaning over to kiss you softly while your body shakes from your orgasm, your eyes are closed to prevent them from rolling and he finds it cute because he can still tell. he knows how good he makes you feel. it’s his pride and joy.

boyfriend!joel who knows how to use his accent. he knows you aren’t originally from texas and that southern accents simply do something to you. you believe it to be the huskiness of his voice mixed with the deep rumble of the sheer power of his voice, it all melts over you like a blanket. joel likes to whisper in your ear, deep and low. “thas’ my pretty slut, hm? takin’ this dick like she’s a professional.” and you’re moaning, clenching the sheets as he presses down on the middle of your back. his voice only becomes clearer with each stroke, and he’s practically splitting you down the middle while whispering in your ear. “come now, darlin’. there’s no way you’re cumming offa listening to me.” he laughs this low and raspy laugh that is so sexy to you. you can only whine in response, glancing over your shoulder with a little pout decorating your puffy lips. “can’t help it, baby.” you whimper out, not a thought going through your mind save for joel joel joel.

back to the website !

[sickuma]

Hello, this maybe kinda out of the fiction you always write. But can i ask for some doctor x reader fanfiction? Make it angst please, i will pay for my therapy bills!! 😁😁😁

PATIENT AT ROOM 224 — a Miguel O'hara fiction.

❱ The first actual request ill cover! I have a few lined up but I wanted to do this one first since I got the idea^^ tysm for the request <3 I hope this is to your liking (●'◡'●) Also if some things don't make sense, I barely know things about hospitals pardon me, I'm 15 and have yet to learn more about such gaahhh this one is pretty long!

ꜝ？ Warning. . angst! mentions of chronic illness, death, and such. ﹟paring | doctor Miguel x patient reader

➴ SYNOPSIS — You suffer from an illness without a cure, and your doctor Miguel tries hard to fasten the pace of formulating that cure. Time is not in your favor, you have one wish and it's to see the ocean for the last time. Along with your goodbyes, he revealed a confession.

NEPENTHE — (n.) An ancient Greek word, nepenthe is defined as a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.

It’s been four years,

Four years since the hospital became your home, four years since this became your reality. Exactly four years since you’ve been a prisoner of your own health, in constant risk of losing your life. It took a while to accept, but four years have passed, and you knew there was nothing else you can do but sit and wait for the inevitable.

A part of you never let go of that speck of hope,

Maybe you still have a chance, maybe you can still live. You want to live. Despite being quiet and accepting of your situation, the fear was undeniably there, and it grows every day. You don't want to die, you’re scared, it’s frightening. 

It seems you’re not the only one feeling that way,

In front of you stood your doctor, Miguel. He’s been in charge of you for years now, he’s been there since the very beginning. It’s starting to feel like he’s the only person you have ever since your family seldom visited. He had a nonchalant disposition, a permanent scowl on his face, and yet he feels homely.

“vitals are stable,” he spoke flatly, scribbling something on his paper. He had the glasses he wears on certain occasions, looking serious as always.

On most days he’s kept to himself, and on some rare occasions, he would speak to you. Things that aren't needed for your health, basic conversations that brought your head out of your wilting life. You appreciated that, knowing he isn't the type to converse or talk about personal topics. You always notice how his eyes look when he’d lay them on you,

Sorrowful? You’re unsure. But there’s definitely a hint of sadness in them, the type of look someone gives when they need to get something off their chest as if he needed to say something urgent. He never does. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, placing his clipboard down the table. Looking at you expectantly, his tone was gentler, softer, something his colleagues would find unusual. You smile at him like you always do, which he always found pleasant. “Just like the usual.” “No aches? How about your difficulty with breathing?”

“None.” you lie, You know it’s stupid to be lying to your own doctor but the last time you told him about it, he looked destroyed. You find out he didn't sleep a wink that week, checking the lab and giving them consistent assistance in finding the cure. Breathing isn't that hard—you've grown used to it. You didn't want to cause him that state ever again. You're aware of your condition, and you can almost predict what the future will be, there was no need to stress him out more than he already is.

He looked at you, searching for any signs of lies only for you to chuckle at him. Stifling a laugh which actually made it difficult to breathe, but that didn't matter. “I’m feeling great.”

He sighed, taking his glasses off to massage his temple. “Are you okay?” you ask, tilting your head slightly. “Just worried.” you smile at his response, it’s nice to know someone cares enough to worry for you. But surely he’s only doing it for the sake of his job, it’s his duty to worry for you, still it felt nice.

“Do you think I’ll ever see the ocean again? I want to visit the beach, is there a chance?” you drift the subject subtly. It was your turn to look at him expectantly, for a brief moment he had a look of guilt, you know well why. “If I can, I want to see the ocean again.” 

“Soon,” he mumbles, turning away from you to open a drawer. “You just—I’ll take you there. When things get a little loose, I’ll take you to see the ocean.”

“You will?”

He was shaken, stumped but he can't let you see that. Gathering what’s left of his solace, solace which you've been providing for the last few years.  "We'll see the ocean."

"That's a promise."

The reason why he’s so gentle with you, why he sugarcoats the rough truth as much as he can, why he promises you such things, he doesn’t know why. With you he feels a sense of solace, was it when you speak? The sound of your voice? that mellow look in your eyes? What is it? Countless sleepless nights were earned simply because he tries to find the answer, no matter how much he distances himself to do his job properly and realistically,

You would always be sitting up on that bed, glancing up at him with your tired expectant eyes accompanied by the gentlest smile he has ever come across with. Before he knows it, he’s promising you a cure that probably won't be formulated until a few years. Until you’re not able to wake anymore.

“Rest up, I’ll do another test tomorrow.” “Do you really promise?” you pry, looking up at him with a smile. A genuine one.

“Yeah, I promise.”

﹐

“The patient at room 224, [name] right?” another doctor spoke from behind him, stopping him dead in his tracks, hearing your name. “Their vitals. It wasn't stable.” “You’re lying to them, Miguel.”

Miguel breathes in, turning to look at the owner of the voice. His gentle complexion faded away, replaced by his common scowl. “How long will you foolishly wait for this cure?”

"It takes years, Miguel. Centuries even, to formulate a cure, you of all people know that." the man spoke with worry, Miguel knew he was only concerned and yet he felt almost enraged.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"This isn't about opinions. That person, they're suffering. God, we need to let them rest, we have the family's wish." argued the man, he now had a frown on his face clearly unsure of Miguel’s intentions. “You’re letting their weak heart grasp on a false hope.”

"What about their wish?" he was angry, and he expressed it freely. “The family’s wish? The same family who barely visited them?”

He breathes in his frustration, he can't afford to lose his cool. Especially now that you're in a terrible state.

His colleague was silenced. Looking at him with hesitance.

"Why are you insisting so much? You're a doctor, they're your patient. You have a duty."

"That duty is to protect and keep them alive," Miguel interjects, he’s had enough of this argument, he hated it. He hated how right his colleague was, and yet he choose to be stubborn. "They want to live."

"And I'll make sure of that."

"You have never been this determined for a patient, especially when you know full well what the outcome will be." he waved his hand upwards, stressed at Miguel’s foolish antics "It's inevitable. It's a chronic illness for God's sake."

For the first time, he's stumped, he doesn't have the answer. All he knows is that he wants to keep you alive, he needs to keep you alive,

For your sake or his?

He stares at you, lying on the bed just as you've been for half of the year. Exhaustion is evident even with your sleeping form, Your life was faltering, you know it, He knows it. And yet for some reason, it's a fact he can't accept. For years of his profession, not once has he cared this much for a person.

It was more than that. 

For years of working in this hospital, not once has he been fazed over a patient's condition. No matter how heartless that sounded, he never cared to this extent.

Yet the idea of putting you down hunts him. The idea of putting you down as if you're some sort of animal without control over your own life, without a say in your own life. It taunts him,

To the point he struggles to sleep, often staying up to check up on the cure's status. Staying up worrying about the passing time,

"If I can, I want to see the ocean again."

His eyes squint in conflict, memories of your sorrowful wish passing through his mind. If he could show you the ocean, he would. If he could show you the world you missed out on, he would. You deserved it, more than anyone, you deserved everything he can give. 

He felt enraged, not because of the workload he has to push through. But for not knowing why it hurts him so much to witness you wilt, he feels confused and conflicted. The growing ache in his heart adding up to his stress,

“I'll talk to them tomorrow Miguel.” his colleague decided sternly, “ill tell them the truth and they will decide. You can watch but you can’t oppose.”

He walks away, leaving Miguel before he could even respond or disagree. Frustration surges through him though it can't compare to how helpless he felt. This was his only way of helping you, even that can get taken away, it feels like a stab in the throat. Slamming his office door shut, he sat on the chair, palming his face. “fuck.”

﹐

“What's happening here?”

Miguel spoke with a perplexed look, there were about 4 people inside your room. Papers in their hands. While you laid on the bed, signing the papers obediently, looking even weaker than the day before. “Miguel!”

You greet him with that stupid smile you always have, why were you smiling? Miguel could feel his nerves rise, seeing all the people and how they looked at him with fright.

“[name] what’s this?” he looks at you, pushing through the people to draw near you.

“They're fixing the documents for the euthanasia.”

He didn't open his mouth to speak for a few minutes, gathering enough strength and making sure he heard you correctly. “Get the hell out.”

He didn't need to repeat it, a man took the signed papers from you and everyone left the room shortly. Leaving you with an angry man who used to be the gentle Miguel who visited you daily to promise you a better life. “Why?”

He asks. He knew he was acting out of line as your doctor. But at this moment he wasn't your doctor, he was Miguel. The man who soothes your sleepless nights, the man who sticks with you even off duty, the only man who cared enough. He didn't say anything else, he simply looked at you with disappointment and sadness,

“They told me the pain only gets worse from here,” you humor a laugh. “If there's a worse pain than what i have right now, I don't think—I can only imagine what that would be like.”

“You didn't wanna die.” he interrupts, a frown evidently shown on his face. “You told me, you're scared.”

He looked almost devastated, well he is. It was obvious just from the look of his eyes, he wanted you to answer, and he wanted you to answer truthfully.

You breathe in, the smile falling soon enough. “I know, I am, I really am scared.”

“But I've been—it’s been like this for four years, how long will I trap myself in this situation? How long will I keep making myself suffer? Im just… tired. I want to live, I really do but if living means staying inside the hospital walls and consisting of lab tests, excruciating pains, and breathing difficulty, then I don't think that’s living at all.” 

He looks away, dawning on him just how selfish he sounded. Asking you why, barging in hoping to convince you otherwise. It was selfish of him. All this time he was focused on what he wanted and needed, constantly going to extents just to save you for his sake, 

He nods, “I'm sorry I just—” he paused looking back at your eyes. I really wanted you to stay he wanted to say it out loud, but he felt it was not necessary. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow.”

His eyes widened briefly, looking at her with disbelief once again. “So soon?” his voice was weak, a fleeting look of desperation in his eyes. 

“I asked for that.” you looked away fiddling with the blankets. That’s when he noticed you weren't sitting up like you usually were, if his predictions were correct it was because your body was too weak to manage sitting up. It was once again this illness, slowly eating away your life against your will, 

He felt his heart sink deeper, feeling more affected than he ever was. He wanted to shout, he wanted to convince you to retract your signage, anything to make you stay, but that wasn't his decision to make.

It was yours, it was your right.

He won't defy you as everyone else did. If it’s truly what you wish then he would support you, no matter how heavy it feels to the heart, he’ll wholeheartedly support you like he always has. 

“Then…”

He pauses, causing you to look back at him weakly waiting for him to continue.

“I promised to take you to see the ocean right.” 

It was his turn to look away, suppressing the tears that threatened to fall. Its been decades since he last cried, yet he finds himself weak for you, refusing to let the tears fall. Not wanting you to see just how affected he was, he didn't want you to worry knowing you will. 

“Let's go see the ocean, okay? Before you go,” he had to pause every few seconds, afraid another word will cause him to break down. "Like I promised."

“Let’s go see the ocean together.”

﹐

It was almost dawn, he never left your room ever since that conversation. He stayed all day and during the night, watched you fall to sleep, rubbing the back of your hand as you doze off. He felt his heart break with every passing hour, 

Knowing that it’ll come eventually. The time he’ll have to let you go.

He watched as your calm expression fall to slumber, it was the first time he’s ever seen you so serene. You would always have this tired expression as if everything in the world pained you, for some reason he knew some parts of that was true. This life truly failed you, you deserved better.

Yet you smiled and accepted your fate. He could remember just how happy you looked when he broke the news about the ocean,

At that moment, he witnessed genuine happiness from you. It was the first time he saw your full smile, it wasn't a half smile, not a small one, it was real. And he loved it, he wanted to look at it forever, to admire it as much as he can. Perhaps that's what made this so bittersweet,

Despite his desire for you to stay, he prioritized what you wanted, what you needed.

As long as you’re happy, he's at peace.

“[name], it’s time to go,” he whispers, gently waking you up. Stuffing his keys deep into his pocket, “Let’s go see the ocean, amor.”

He didn't care about what he was saying nor what he just called you, he was just focused on fulfilling your wish. He needed to hurry before the sunrise, he wanted to watch it with you. If this would be the last sight you see before you go, he wanted it to be the most beautiful youve ever seen.

Your eyes fluttered open, greeted by Miguel picking your limp body up in his arms to carry you toward his car. He was gentle, careful not to hurt or cause you discomfort, it made your heart leap with joy and ache at the same time, 

“We’re going to see the ocean now?” you ask excitedly, a bit of rasp to your voice from the sleep. His face scrunched up, biting his lip to suppress his emotion.

“Yes,” he responds, attempting to sound just as thrilled as you are. “Yes, we are.”

The drive wasn't long, nor was it eventful. It was mostly silent, with a few remarks from you ranting about how much you loved the beach as a child and how excited you are to see it along with the sunrise. He was fulfilling two wishes of yours, you couldn't be more grateful.

On the other hand, he drove silently. Responding to your stories ever so often, occupied with his sinking heart. He was happy, truly, seeing you look so lively,

It was the most life he’s ever seen from you in your four years of seeing each other in the hospital walls. It hurts him a tad bit, how easily pleased you are, how failed you are by everything in your life.

He had to gather himself, he needs to be happy for your sake. Seeing you peer through the window with a smile, it was like your eyes were shining with excitement, it caused a bittersweet smile to his lips. “We’re here.”

The two of you were just in time, a few minutes before dawn passes with the sunrise on its way. He carefully picked you up from the car, seeing your smile from the corner of his eyes, it was the brightest, at least the brightest smile he's ever seen from you. And you smiled a lot all throughout that four years.

He felt the sand sinking his shoes as he walked with you in his arms, walking until he reached a spot he deemed perfect. “I can stand,” you eagerly spoke, looking at him expectantly.

He would've refused if this was just a normal day, but this was your last day. He wouldn't reprimand you any joy you want. With support, he drops you carefully, holding your waist and your hand on the other. Your legs trembled, they hurt but you ignored it, too busy looking ahead to even feel the excruciating pain all throughout your body. He made sure to hold and support you properly,

“It’s pretty,” you mumble, mesmerized by how the sun slowly made its way to exposure.

You looked ahead, while he looked at you. “It is.”

He knew it wouldn't be long until the tears form, so he savored the moment to admire your face before his eyes blur out with tears. “Should we sit?”

You nod, looking at him briefly before you return your gaze to the front. Taking in the breeze and the scenery, it was painful yet beautiful. You wouldn't ask for more,

“Thank you, Miguel.”

He was silent, letting you speak. “I never thought I could be this happy, but I’m really really happy. My heart could jump!” chuckling at your own words, you turned to him. Tears were evident from your eyes, he disliked it, it made his tears threaten to fall as well. “I really really am happy. Truly.”

“No,” he spoke, looking ahead this time. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for everything.”

You looked at him in confusion, letting out a short laugh. “But for four years i was just at that very bed. What did I do for you worth gratifying for?”

“Existing.” he says calmly, “thank you for existing.”

It was your turn to be quiet, looking at him and observing his expression carefully. It was the first time he outwardly showed emotions, tears brimming in his eyes. They made yours fall even more. “Thank you for existing and waking my heart.”

“Waking… your heart?”

“Yes,” he responds, with a smile. The very first time you saw his smile, it was a sight truly. A beautiful one, almost on par with the ocean and the sunrise. “Thank you for making me love again.”

His words were unexpected but you kept quiet, taking in his confession. He was pouring his heart out, calmly and painfully. It was almost confusing, yet it was beautiful.

“I loved you the moment you smiled at me. The moment you looked at me in a way only you will—I know it’s odd, I know it’s unusual but I haven't stopped loving you since.” he looked back at you, holding you in his arms as you both sat on the sand.

He had a look of hurt, but a look of acceptance mixed in with a thousand emotions he had on display “When I look at you, I don't want to look at anything else but you.”

“I want to care for you, I wanted to protect you—I wanted to save you.” he was letting himself cry. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to be vulnerable “I won't ask you to return that love. Because it's yours and yours only.”

“Miguel.” you barely whispered, ignoring the pain that gnawed on your body. 

“I'll keep loving you,” “I'll love you today, ill love you tomorrow, I'll love you forever.”

You both were a crying mess and for some reason, it felt right. The serene breeze of the ocean, the light of the sunrise. It was a perfect moment, the pain was indescribable but none of you would have wanted anything else at this moment. You didn't speak, only looked at him as he does to you. Even without words he knew, the way you stared at him with tears-stained eyes, he knew you understood, he knew you heard him.

He stifles a short laugh, “It's a bit unfortunate for me but if I were to fall in love once more, I’ll choose you over and over again.”

You laid your head on his chest, letting him hold you in your last moments. Closing your eyes, pushing out the tears which didn't seem to stop,

“Until I'm nothing but a fading memory to this world, ill keep loving you even then.”

“If I was given a chance to live, I would have wanted to spend it with you like this as well.” you smile at his chest, intertwining your fingers with his. Feeling yourself falter and falter every passing moment, “There wasn't a moment where your love wasn't reciprocated, Miguel.”

He held you, tightly but gently. Tight enough to not let you go, gently enough to allow you to feel his love. Your words strike his heart in every right way, in every painful way.

“Thank you for unknowingly saving me.”

As the sun rise, the silence of the place allowed him to grieve, giving him space to accept what has passed. He stared ahead, caressing your hair gently, as you depart in his arms. Where you belonged, where you wanted to be.

It was a wonder why the skilled doctor always had a scowl on his face, who knew the patient at room 224 was all it takes to wake his sleeping heart.

this was a fun to write (●'◡'●) bandaids for everyone?

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

( :̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:★:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

this is unedited!!!

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: angst. lots of hurt, very little comfort. miguel is a hardass who pushes people away. death.

platonic!miguel x daughter-like!reader. no seriously, reader is eighteen and young. this is found family, not romantic.

the intention is for this to be multi-part. how many parts? idk.

word count: 1.3k

pt i : fate

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 

being a spider person was always unfair. mercy from whatever divine being that controlled their universes was hard to come by.

you were no exception.

your father died early, shot by a man who ran with someone’s purse. you didn’t know him well, you were only three after all. but your mother fought hard to teach you about him, to make sure you remembered some semblance of him.

and all was well for a time. you went to school, made some friends, started working for some extra cash under the table.

you were reaching up into your attic when the sharp sting of a spider bite zinged up from your hand. you killed it with a slap, but nothing could stop the venom that now traveled through your veins.

the rest was history: you became your universes one and only spider woman, learning her trade as she went.

the cannon event hit later, and it was different from the others.

you had no uncle to find dead on the street.

but you did have a mother.

she was working the late shift at the hospital when a spouse of a dead patient burst through the doors and demanded to see a doctor. apparently, the man wanted revenge for the hospitals failure to save his wife, and he had come to instill justice.

your mother had raised her hands and tried to plead for him to stop, to calm down, to lower his gun.

the shot made your spider-senses go haywire, and you practically flew to the trauma center. the security guards had no idea what to do, so you just ran past them to find your mother bleeding on the cold white tile.

it took everything in you to remember that behind your mask, no one knew you were this woman’s daughter, and you’d have to respond carefully. you watched as the officers called the next of kin, and you were thankful that you had had the mind to put your phone on silent that day.

no one noticed the tears streaming from your eyes behind the suit. you swung back home as fast as you could, answering your phone when they called you again.

pretending to not know what was going on was the second worst thing you had to do that day. you had to fight from chocking on tears as you answered the call.

eighteen and orphaned, standing over your mothers open casket. a part of you thanked that you were older, because it meant that you didn’t have to go into foster care. but nothing could truly quell your grief.

and then the universe decided to send you a big middle finger in the shape of a Doc Oc right after the funeral ended.

you knew that you couldn’t keep going like this. no one should process grief this fast. but as the villain sent a tidal wave through the streets of new york city you relized that you didn’t exactly have a choice.

with great power comes great responsibility.

and saving these people was your responsibility, no matter what mental state you were in.

this Doc Oc looked to be from some other dimension. instead of mechanical tentacles like that of your Doc Oc, he had real ones, and he apparently threw actual octopi at people when he was pissed off.

it was no easy task, and at one point he had thrown you against the wall and knocked your head. as your vision swam, he picked you up with one of his suctioned limbs and squeezed.

it all happened so fast.

a flash of orange and yellow swirling at the edge of your vision. orange silk shooting into your captors face. and then someone shot forward and sliced the tentacle that held you.

you sank to the ground as you caught your breath, vaguely hearing someone say “Lyla, run a diagnostic. what’s the best way to take this guy down?”

as you wheezed, a large hand rested against your shoulder, and a soft voice greeted your ears.

“Sit tight, kid. I’ll handle this.”

you didn’t have time to argue when the hand vanished, and you peered up just in time to see a large spider-man in a blue suit throwing himself at the villain.

you stood as you caught your breath, rushing right back into battle to help the man that had saved you. the Doc Oc dragged you both to the bay, sinking down into the water. it was advantageous for him, being a water dwelling creature, and you and the man struggled. it took another spider, a woman on a motor cycle, showing up to help defeat him.

but it was you who dealt the final blow, wrapping the villains limbs to a nearby pier to keep him underwater. when the pair of new spider people got him all tied up and prepared to take away, you just…collapsed.

everything came down on you at once. your exhaustion, your sadness, your loneliness. everything.

you barely heard the spider woman murmur to the brash man across from her, and it was only when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you and pick you up that you snapped back to reality.

but just as quickly as you zeroed in on the feeling, your brain whispered sleep in your ear, and you passed out.

₊ ⊹

you woke to a strange bare bedroom and an odd watch that flickered with light on your wrist. noticing the glass of water on the bedside table, you chugged it, coughing when you got too eager.

“You’re awake!”

you screamed, a small voice coming from right beside your head unexpectedly. you turned to see a small woman illuminated in the light from your watch.

“no need to be afraid. i’m lyla.”

lyla. that rang a bell.

“where am i?” you asked as you noticed the clothes folded in the corner of the room. you cast a sideways glance at the projection, and lyla turned to give you the illusion of privacy.

“miguel will answer all your questions. i’ve alerted him of your new condition.”

you slipped on the black sweatpants and top gratefully, relishing the feeling of soft cotton against your skin. as your hands moved over your body, you quickly noticed various cuts and bruises.

that’s right, i passed out.

“where is this miguel?” you asked as you studied the watch, noticing the flickering ‘EARTH-928’ across the screen.

almost immediately, little glowing footsteps were projected from the watch, making you whip your hand away from your face.

“i guess that’s my answer?” you asked lyla, and the woman nodded.

you sighed, figuring you might as well follow them.

fantastic survival skills from the one and only spider-woman.

well, you thought, not the one and only.

₊ ⊹

the man before you seemed almost nothing like he was when you were fighting Doc Oc.

he seemed…infinitely tired. his shoulders hunched, head ducked down. you supposed that you were distracted during the fight.

but his expression revealed much more than his body language. he had deep eye bags, and his cheeks were sunken in a way that expressed not just natural bone structure but also a lack of eating and sleeping properly.

miguel looked drained.

you were still processing what he had told you, about the cannon and the ‘Spider-Society’ and the ‘Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse.’

you had actually openly scoffed at that one, and he looked dejected by your reaction.

“but i can’t just send you home now. i’m pretty sure jess would actually web me for all eternity if i did.” he was saying, rubbing his brow.

“so what exactly am i doing here, then?” you asked, curious but hesitant.

he turned his back to you, looking forlornly at his screens.

“i’m going to train you.”

“why?” came your response, surprised and uncertain. you may have only known miguel for less than an hour, but you could already tell that taking on a young apprentice wasn’t exactly in his character.

he didn’t turn to you. he just kept looking at a picture of a young girl on one of his screens.

“because you remind me of someone.” he said quietly. then he looked at you, and you were struck with the amount of guilt and suffering that lived in his eyes.

“and because you remind me of myself. and i can’t let you become like me.”

masterlists | part ii

[cherryredstars]

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, Vomiting

Summary: Things come and go.

Word Count: 970 (Not Edited)

Something instinctual burns in your chest.

It’s raw and uncomfortable, making you ball your fist and rub your chest. You rub in circles, watching the man pace outside your door as he talks to the doctor. Something in your body tugs you towards him, yelling at you to go comfort him. But you don’t know him, not anymore. Not like he wants you to. So you stay put, a deep frown on your face as you watch their muffled talk. You feel sorry for him. You sit and watch and rub circles into your chest.

It slightly crushed you inside when you woke up with him beside you. His hand clutching onto yours so desperately, like you were his lifeline. Like if he didn’t, you would be gone. It broke you that you already were. 

His eyes had shined so brightly when he saw you were awake, hands shaky as they cupped your face. He was so gentle, so kind as he pressed kisses to your face. He left nothing untouched. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, even eyelids, were greeted with tingling sparks as his lips pressed to them. It caused tears to stream from your closed eyes, fighting down a sob. You mourned the person this man remembers. Mourned the memories that are missing. Mourned the way he loves. Powerful and real and raw. You mourn the fragments in your head that turned him into glass splinters. The light in his eyes died when your lost eyes shone with your lack of recognition. 

Even if you don’t remember him, you remember things about him. You remember that when he’s stressed he tugs at his hair. You remember that his jaw pulses when he tries not to yell. You remember that his face takes on indifference when he’s sad. They come to you as you watch him. He is hurting and pained and sad and trying his best to understand. Something in you thinks he will be patient, another part has no fucking idea what you’re talking about. 

He enters the room again, not being able to look at you. You understand, you wouldn’t be able to look at yourself either. Your hand falls from your chest, giving him a melancholy smile as he sits down again. His hand rubs his lower face, eyes squeeze shut as he breaths. You have to look away, not able to handle the pain you’ve caused. You bite your lip, glaring at the white walls. 

Remember, remember, remember. 

Your head forms a blistering headache and you wince. A warm hand envelops yours, causing you to turn towards him again. He gives you an easy smile, but his hand is comforting as he rubs your skin. 

“Don’t worry about it. They’ll come back. Just give it time.” He doesn’t sound too confident. 

“I’m sorry…” You pause and you want to smack your head. You think, you really, really think. It starts with an ‘M’. You know it does. Manuel. Miles. Micah? Ma…Me…Mi…

“Miguel.” 

Miguel. 

You wince. Oh. You nod, repeating it in your head over and over again. Do not forget this time. Do. Not. Forget. 

He brushes off your words, shaking his head. His hand squeezes yours, and you look down. Your stomach absolutely plummets. This is sick and cruel. You’re going to throw up. You push his hand away, stumbling out of bed. You almost trip over the sheets, and Miguel shoots up at your frantic scurrying. You push your way into the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. Your chest heaves, throat burning as you empty your stomach. You continue retching even after you have nothing else to give. 

A ring. Rings. Fucking rings. You’re married. You’re fucking married and he’s your husband and you don’t remember him. 

Miguel holds your hair back, rubbing your back soothingly as he says sweet things to you. Sweet things you don’t deserve. God, this man is your husband. Your retches turn into sobs and you collapse onto the floor. Miguel is quick to follow, holding you to him as he shushes you quietly. You clutch onto him, your body singing at his touch and the way he cares for you so deeply. Slowly, he builds you up. 

He carries you back to your bed, kissing the side of your sweaty forehead. You sink into him, clutching onto him for dear life as he tucks you in. He whispers something into your hair, something about getting water before he leaves. In the silence, the loneliness, you try to think about white dresses and chapels and cake. It hurts your head, but you remember flowers and aisles and masses of people.

Miguel comes back, giving you a cup of water. His hand, consciously using the one without a ring, comes to wipe away the tears that are still streaming down your face. You drink the water numbly, feeling tired and fatigued, You sink into the bed, eyes growing heavy. Miguel sits back down before he quickly gets up like he just thought of something. 

Your hand, the one with your ring, grabs his hand desperately. You squeeze his hand, eyes wide awake as you stare at him. 

“Stay with me, please? While I sleep?”

Miguel nods, cooing down at you. I’m not going anywhere, cariño. He’s not going anywhere. You sink back into the bed, watching him sit back down. Your rings clink together as he grabs your hand, rubbing soft circles into your palm. You sink into bed, your eyes falling shut. Your brain is nice to you. It gives you fragments that will become hazy again when you open your eyes. 

You dream of neon green liquid. Red and blue. Soccer games and a little girl. White lace and soft music. You dream of a man with fangs and claws who vows to love you through sickness and through health.

You still hold his hand the same way: like if you don't hold on tight enough, he'll be gone.

[rockstvrdotcom]

sofies's KINKTOBER LIST 🎃🦇

my first kinktober 🥹

10.01 miguel o'hara x reader

POWER PLAY + BEGGING + SLUTTY READER

10.03 ticci toby x reader

DEGRADING + KNIFEPLAY + PUBLIC SEX + DUBCON/NONCON

10.05 gaz x reader

FACE SITTING + MARKING + MORNING SEX + SOMNO

10.07 hobie x reader

SEX TAPE + PORNSTAR! READER/PORNSTAR! HOBIE

10.10 rodrick heffley

TOYS + BONDAGE + SPANKING

10.13 shuntaro chishiya

TEASING + PETPLAY + DEGRADATION

10.16 jeff the killer x reader

CORRUPTION KINK + BLOWJOB + LINGERIE

10.19 ghost x reader

DRUNK SEX + WALL SEX + SEDUCTION + AFTERCARE

10.21 konig x reader

BELLY BULGE + APHRODISIAC + SIZE KINK

10.24 keegan russ

DIRTY TALK + PROSITUTION

10.26 hoodie x masky x reader

EXHIBITIONISM + THREESOME + DOUBLE PENETRATION

10.28 gojo satoru

PHONE SEX + MUTUAL MASTURBATION

10.30 dabi x reader

DOCTOR/PATIENT DYNAMIC + CORRUPTION KINK + DUBCON

10.31 miguel o'hara

SHOWER SEX + PRAISE + CHOKING

[day-dreamsinthedark]

If you write x Reader, may I request some head cannons for Demetri Alexopoulos x reader where the reader is Sam's older sibling?

Hi! So I am not very great with head-canons, nor am I comfortable with writing in the 2nd perspective, but I really enjoy this idea so I thought I would try? My sincerest apologies if this is not what you wanted, but if you'd like to request anything else, I'd love to try it! Also, so sorry for the wait!

ALSO. There are a few curse words, I am SO SORRY if you aren't comfortable with them. Please let me know!

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

Demetri seems like the type of guy to fall in love with any girl that is even remotely nice to him, so imagine his surprise when LaRusso!Reader is the first person he meets when he starts at West Valley High School's coding club. As Samantha's older sister, or her Irish twin, as their parents love to tell everyone, you had always been a little self-conscious.

The eldest sister. A title once loved, now something more like a curse. Unachievable and utterly unbearable. You have always been entirely uncoordinated and just uncomfortable in your own skin, so karate has always been just out of your reach. Not that Daniel has ever minded– Kata has always been a comfort. Something to do in private, calming and kind.

This meant that LaRusso!Reader has never been very comfortable in the karate scene, but also around the family in general. It was easy to get lost in your own little world– books, games, television, and all things that made you unlike your sister.

-

He'd known you for over a year before he figured it out. He assumed that you were just the hot nerdy junior that none of the other guys could really appreciate, knowing absolutely nothing but your first name before Miguel kicked the social skills into him. And as someone who was equally as shy, you felt absolutely fine ignoring everyone and getting your work done.

I imagine that in this scenario, where there's a pretty girl who occasionally exchanges smiles and pleasantries, Demetri doesn't even really notice Yasmine (or her friend who looks suspiciously like LaRusso!Reader)

He's so caught up in his crush on Reader that Eli's got to consistently remind him that being nice is not the same thing as having feelings, even if you always went out of your way to compliment whatever fandom-related memorabilia or clothing he brought to school. Like that time you complimented his Doctor Who shirt (and then wore your favorite GOT shirt the next day– to which he did not compliment, because he was so stupidly starstruck.)

Still, there wasn't much interaction between the two of you for the first year and a half that you had known each other. 

-

It wasn't until you finally gave in and decided to train with Sam and Robby that everything had changed. You'd only agreed to the basics, some Kata and maybe a bit of sparring. Robby was kind and made Sam a lot happier than you'd expected her to be, so what possible harm could there be in trying?

So there you were, minding your business in your dojo's yard. Eyes closed as you stretched– a backbend, a stretch that Sam was never able to get, and likely the only athletic thing you’d ever been able to do– ignoring your sister’s conversation with her "not" boyfriend and your father. 

“It’s time we be patient.” Your dad said, “Let those who need us find us. Alright?”

At this, you thought it might be an important time to join the conversation, preparing yourself for the hard part: flipping back over. You hadn’t quite mastered that yet, but it wasn’t… impossible. 

Then, a familiar voice. One that you hadn't heard in months because he and Eli had quit the team without a word. Not that you had spoken much anyway, but still it hurt. 

“Excuse me? Uh, it was unclear if the gate was the front–” He stopped abruptly, missing a porch step and managing to call out your name in confusion just as he hit the floor. You, on the other hand, fell over on your arms just as the realization set in.

“Ow. Jesus.” “Fuck’s sake.” The two of you spoke at the same time.

Neither of you had stood yet, but you craned your neck at him as Demetri called your name out again– from his spot on the ground.

 “Are you… what are you– you know karate?”

Instead of responding, you groaned out in pain. “Mhm. Little.”

You’d fallen quite awkwardly, hurting your shoulder in the process, so by the time you had fixed yourself, you opted to stay on the floor. It was infuriating. Instead of actually trying to help either of you, everyone in the yard simply passed looks. From you, to Demetri, and then to each other. Sam and Robby’s eyebrows lifted so high you were shocked they managed to stay on their faces. Your father seemed mostly confused, but Sam chewed on her bottom lip in an attempt to swallow the shit-eating grin that was pushing its way out. 

“Thanks,” You said, shooting a glare at the two people beside you. “I appreciate the absolute lack of worry on everyone’s faces right now.”

“I’m” –Demetri started, voice frantic and cracking as he moved forward slowly. It was odd. You couldn’t recall the two of you ever having spoken more than a few words to each other at once. –“You’re… you were in the Coding Club.”

“Correction. I am in the Coding Club.” You smiled at him, patting your knees clean as you stood up. You leaned forward ever so slightly, “You’re the one that quit.”

His eyes go wide and his face runs red. And that is precisely where your story would start. 

–

Demetri seems pretty obsessive in general, so the two of you would be attached by the hip, regardless of whether or not either of you were aware of each others interest. Mr. LaRusso would probably lose his mind at the idea that he started a dojo just for his male students to be infatuated with his daughters. The arguments would probably start with a lot of, “I’m running a dojo, not a fucking dating show!”

Demetri x OlderLaRusso!Reader would also be incredible bc it would have such an intense change on the dojo wars!!! Demetri would be so caught up in trying to spend time with you that he wouldn’t give so much attention to Hawk’s shenanigans. The mall fight would probably change a ton. Demetri still would have submitted that Yelp review, but the mall scene would’ve gone a little differently because instead of third wheeling Sam and Robby, he’d be following you around like a lost puppy. 

I also love the idea that Hawk– who very likely also had a small crush on you at some point– is fucking flabbergasted when he sees the two of you together at the mall. Maybe the two of you are laughing over some ridiculous comic, or he finds you just as your hands graze. At this point in his journey, he definitely wouldn’t care, but I think he’d resent the idea that Demetri is allowed to have any sort of romantic interest as a nerd. If Hawk wasn’t good enough, then Demetri shouldn’t be either. 

Ugh, I love the little emotional journey those boys go through. 

ANYWHO. 

Even if Hawk is fully infatuated with Moon at this point, seeing you with Demetri would fuel his rage. I'm also fairly certain that seeing you would trigger some sort of response from the Eli that knew you.

You would be a reminder of who he used to be, but especially who the three of you were together. Oh he definitely would have also been into you, because why wouldn't he be? Those boys did everything together. It was probably this sort of "We can both like her because she'd never date either of us" rule. Like a celebrity crush lol

Not only did you fucking like Demetri, but you were incredible at karate. How? Who taught you?

Imagine Hawk’s shock at getting his ass handed to him by the shy girl who led half of the Coding Club meetings? The realization that you're not only better than him at karate, but very obviously into Demetri, who has done absolutely nothing to be worthy of having positive attention would drive him insane. The fact that you did all this while still being entirely unashamed of your "nerd" title would not help.

Demetri’s shock, I think, would go something like this:

“I thought you said you weren’t good at karate?” He’d say as he hides behind a rack of sunglasses. You’d run towards him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back towards where Sam and Robby should be. 

“I’m not. You’re just…”

“Okay! I get it!” He’d interrupt, face red and horrified. 

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

You can probably tell that I'm not used to writing in head-canon style lol I think I am more comfortable with little scenes? I also ran out of ideas bc it's been a while since I've seen the show, but I'm planning on a rewatch soon. SO if you enjoyed this at all and want anything specific pls let me know! I'm not very comfortable with x Reader but I would like to be!

Thank you for the req, and again-- so sorry for the wait!

[casuallyawkardd]

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind Pt III

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: Miguel and you get the chance to get to know one another better while on a mission

Warnings: fluff, mentions of drug use but nothing crazy, super evil villain watch out, not fluent in Spanish so lemme know if I mess up

A/N: Finally the long awaited next part of the series! Thank you all for being so patient with me and I hope it holds up to expectation 😊 Also I finally made a masterlist for this series!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

One thing you liked about Nueva York was that you could see the stars at night. In your universe's New York, the lights alone would drown out their natural light, something you missed seeing back in your hometown. But here, they were plain to see, sparkling down on you from the open sunroof. Maybe someone in this universe developed lights that didn't snuff out the natural light of the world, that or maybe the future was less smoggy.

This wasn't the Nueva York you were familiar with, not technically anyway. What had Miguel called it? Earth-928C? It was another version of Miguel's home, one where there were enough differences that they were their own separate universes, but not so much so that it was classified under a different number. Speaking of Miguel..

"Remind me why I was chosen for this mission?" you asked, breaking the silence between you two. The man in question gave you a sideways glance, not looking too happy with your tone.

"Because Jess is already on one with Peter B and she suggested I take you instead," he answered matter-of-factly, nostrils flaring as he let out a huff.

"And...why did Jess have to be the one to come?"

"You know, you ask a lot of questions."

"And you avoid a lot of them," you quipped back, shooting him a half-hearted glare before sighing heavily, arms crossing over your chest. "I get the whole 'mysterious leader' thing, but I don't think it's too much to ask for a little more detail-"

"I needed someone to pose as my date to this event," Miguel cut you off. You awaited further explanation, but the other spider seemed to think that answer would suffice. It certainly explained the given dress code for the mission. Miguel sporting a suit, appearing like a simple black, but was shown to be a deep red when the light hit it just right. His eyes gave you the up and down, as if just now seeing your ensemble for the first time. "You clean up nice."

"A simple 'I like your dress' would work, O'Hara," you huff.

"Fine, I like your dress, happy?" he retorts and you roll your eyes, the compliment not as sincere when you have to pull teeth to get it.

Yet another moment of silence followed as the car drove on, a divider keeping the driver oblivious to the conversation between you two. "What's the mission?" you asked finally, "I know you mentioned something with anomaly capture, but we were in a rush so..."

"Ay dios mío," Miguel pulled up an image on his gizmo. "A variant of Doctor Octavius was detected here," he pointed to the flashing dot on the map, "that building just so happens to be where Alchemax is hosting their annual charity event. Make sense?"

"Mmm," you hum, "and do you expect that they'll just let us walk right in?"

"Of course they will," he said, clicking the hologram away and leaning back against the seat, "the Miguel of this universe still works for Alchemax, he's expected to be there."

"And you plan to pose as yourself in this dimension?" Miguel nods to confirm your thought. "What if the Miguel from this universe comes too?"

"He won't."

"And you know that because..?"

Miguel didn't respond, looking out the window as the car came to a stop. "We're here, let's at least pretend we like each other."

Stepping out, Miguel offered you his arm for you to get out of the car with ease. The building before you was tall, much like the skyscrapers of your universe, only maintaining that futuristic quality most things seemed to possess in Nueva York. The lights you could see from the top floor told you of your destination, all that was left was to make your way inside.

"Why the cameras?" you asked, indicating with a nod of your head to the flashing lights and large crowd around the base of the staircase that led to the entrance.

The sight made Miguel grimace, "Paparazzi," he spat the word, "makes sense, these things usually attract that kind of crowd. Celebrities, billionaires, anyone Alchemax can sucker into funding their projects." His disdain for the company was evident, as to why he had such a deeply rooted hatred for it, you had yet to hear that story. "Come on, let's just go in. Try not to be obvious." Before you could respond, he was already leading the way; his arm linked with yours as the two of you managed to slip inside.

The way up was uneventful, one high tech elevator ride and you were on top of one of the tallest buildings in the city. According to Miguel at least. On the way up, Miguel had shared the plan: lie low and wait, plain and simple. It wasn't like his usual plans, Miguel seeming to prefer getting in and out as quickly as possible, anomaly captured and sent to HQ in the blink of an eye.

"There's too many people," he explained, "one wrong move and this building could come crashing down with everyone inside. Just act natural and let the target reveal itself to us." Just how dangerous was this variant?

You were reluctant, but chose not to argue with his plan, especially once you saw the venue. The event was being held in a ballroom of sorts, designed for events such as this one. The room was large, accented by a stunning silver chandelier. There were tables for guests to sit at on the borders of the room, many already occupied by elite figures chatting away about business and what have you. Horderves and cocktails were being distributed on metal trays that hovered about the room. The room, the people in it, all that you saw combined into a reminder of just how advanced Miguel's universe truly was.

"Miguel?" a man's voice called out, the owner coming through the crowd. He was an older man, tall like the man at your side and equally well dressed, if not more. "Well, isn't this a treat?" There was a teasing tone to his voice, offering a hand that Miguel stiffly shook.

"Mr. Stone," Miguel mused, forcing a smile to maintain the facade, "How are you this evening?"

"Well," Stone replied, looking in your direction, "And who might you be?"

"Oh, just Miguel's date," you tell him, throwing your name out there as well.

Mr. Stone smiled, taking your hand in his, "I doubt something as lovely as you is 'just Miguel's date,'" he said before planting a kiss on the back of your hand. A gesture that made you want to retract your hand immediately, but you kept with the pleasantries.

"Well...I'm-"

"My girlfriend," Miguel interjected, pulling the unwanted attention off of you.

"Girlfriend?" Stone seemed surprised by the bit of information. "Didn't know you had one. Thought you were becoming a sort of recluse."

Miguel just shrugged, despite the comment seeming backhanded, an insult hidden behind a pearly white smile. "Well I have to get out sometimes," was all he said and Mr. Stone nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

"You should spend some of that time coming into the lab. I'm sure your team's been missing you."

"I'll think about it." Before the older man could continue, Miguel placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward and through the crowd, finding solace at an empty table.

"You know him?" you dared to ask, based on the sour expression marring Miguel's features.

"Tyler Stone," was all he said, huffing in annoyance, "He's in my universe as well, or I suppose was. This version doesn't seem to be as much of an entitled prick at least."

"Oh," was all you had to say, glancing around the party. Whoever this Stone person was, he seemed to have struck a nerve in Miguel, making him more irritable than usual. Something you didn't plan to tolerate all evening. "Miguel?"

"Mmm."

"Why the hell is everyone in every version of your universe so damn tall?"

Miguel paused, looking around confused before looking back at you, "I'm sorry?"

"I mean really, I've looked this room up and down and I'm pretty sure I'm the shortest one here. What's the average height, six foot three?"

He hummed in amusement, "Six foot one for women."

"Nuh uh."

"And six foot six for men."

"What the hell!?" you guffawed, your dramatics making a small smile appear on your partners lips. "What are they feeding you in the future?"

"Dunno, better food?" he shrugged, sitting back in his chair, posture more relaxed than it had been. "Anti-gravity tech is more normalized in my universe too. It's been proven to have an effect on the development of kids."

"And you know that because..?"

"Did a report on it in middle school."

"Of course you did."

"Keep the snide remarks to yourself," his tone hardened for a moment and you wondered if your attempt at lightening the mood had struck a nerve, but he continued on. "You know, I'm sure Vada could benefit from some anti-gravity therapy."

"Hey, my little lady is perfect at the size she is," you warned, the smile on your face keeping the conversation light hearted. "Plus, I want to savor her being small for as long as I can."

Miguel chuckled, "Ain't that the truth."

The air around you two seemed to shift with that little comment, your smile slowly fading in sync with his. You felt like you should say something, break the ice once more to relieve the somber air. "Miguel, I-"

"Es suficiente," he interjected, rising from his seat and adjusting his suit. "We need to stay focused. Start searching for the target, let's get a move on."

Complying, you rose to your feet as well, stopping after taking the first step to follow. "...No."

Miguel froze at the single syllable, turning to look at you over his shoulder, "What was that?"

"No," you repeated, his eyes now narrowing at you. "You were the one who said we needed to lay low, right?"

"...Yes, but-"

"Well," you interrupted and his jaw set in annoyance, "then we should take advantage of where we're at. Enjoy the party and all, yeah?"

"That's not-"

"If you need to get a hold of me, just call me on the gizmo."

"No, Y/N, we need to stick together," Miguel reached out to stop you, but you were already walking off, a platter of bruschetta catching your eye. Miguel let out a deep breath through his nose, "The anomaly could be anywhere, it's dangerous to be on your own."

"I'm not alone, I have you," you called back to him playfully, trying not to laugh at just how peeved he looked. "Let loose O'Hara, don't be such a stick in the mud. Is that whole wall an aquarium?"

You never knew rubbing elbows with the elite could be so...enjoyable. It seemed many found your conversation refreshing, a change of pace from the usual, high society vernacular. It helped that they had expensive taste as well. The food was immaculate and you regretted not bringing something to stash away extra. Something Vada could have tried when you got home.

Speaking of your little one, she had managed to get a hold of you through Lyla. You had been hesitant to let an AI watch over your daughter, but considering she looked to be in one piece, it looked like this little experiment worked out just fine. Vada was even ready for bed, hair washed and wearing fresh pajamas. The call was to simply say goodnight, you promising to tuck her in when you got home.

"Tell Miggy I said goodnight, too," your toddler demanded, making you laugh.

"I will. Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Mama."

As soon as you hung up, the group you had found yourself in was bombarding you with questions. 'You have a daughter? How old is she? Sounds like she misses her mother, huh? Why didn't you bring her tonight? Who's her father, maybe we know him? Is it Miguel?'

"Oh no, nothing like that," you had to chime in, waving your hands defensively, "I had her with my ex, she's too young to come to something like this." When they pressed for more information, particularly about Vada's father, you provided some dodgy answers before making the executive decision to excuse yourself.

The balcony seemed to be the place most people were going to get a moment of peace. It was dimmer, the only light coming from the windows looking into the ballroom. Some were having a smoke break, while others used the fresh air to keep the alcohol in their stomachs. Miguel was among them, neither drunk or smoking, leaning against the balcony on his own.

"This doesn't seem like the place to find a Doc Ock anomaly," you teased, coming to stand beside him.

He acknowledged you with a sideways glance before looking back at the city below. "Didn't get the chance to investigate much. Too many people trying to talk to me."

"Oh no, whatever will you do?"

"You're hilarious," he matched your sarcastic tone with his own.

"It must be nice though, people seem to like you a lot here. Or.. I guess the Miguel of this universe, at least." You looked over at him, debating your next words. "Miguel, how did you know he wouldn't be coming tonight?" You could see his jaw set, eyes now purposely avoiding yours. It was frustrating to say the least. "Come on, Miguel. Why can't you just tell me?"

"It's none of your business, that's why."

"Oh, but it's yours? Cuz it's you in another dimension? Tell me, when do I get to know the 'business' of every other version of me?"

"You know what? I'm getting real sick of-" Miguel whipped to the side to face you, his shoulder bumping yours and you stumbled to catch yourself. That seemed to give him pause, Miguel going quiet once more as the two of you now stared at each other. You were trying to understand what was going through his head, but his expression was as hard to read as ever. Blinking slowly, he let out a heavy sigh, going back to leaning against the railing. "It's just personal, alright? The Miguel of this universe and I have... a lot in common."

You didn't say anything, not sure what you would say anyway. Leaning forward on the railing, your eyes focused on your fidgeting hands, looking up when Miguel continued. "He's addicted to Rapture, a disgusting drug that Alchemax developed, just like I was," reluctantly his eyes met yours, gaze softer than it had been before. "except I succeeded where he will inevitably fail. He'll perform an experiment to get rid of the addiction, but it'll backfire. He'll be dead by the end of the week."

"Oh, Miguel, I.. I'm sorry to hear that," you placed a sympathetic hand on his forearm. You bit your lip in thought, unsure what to say under these circumstances "That must be hard, knowing a version of yourself is going to... you know."

Miguel just shrugged off your touch, "It wouldn't be the first time," he replied, you frowning at how quickly he brushed it off.

"Still, I'm sorry," you repeated, Miguel only humming to show he heard you. The two of you didn't say much after that, but it wasn't awkward like the other periods of silence between you tonight. There was tension, but time seemed to help melt it away. It began to feel almost natural, the kind of quiet you were used to sharing with a select few people. The breeze came in, cool against your skin, save for the part of you that pressed against Miguel's side, welcoming the warmth he had to give. "Hey," you said, "this might be a bad time to bring it up, but Vada did want to tell you goodnight."

A puff of air escaped his lips, making a 'tch' sound, shoulders shifting in a mute laugh. "Did she now? Well that's awfully generous of her." Miguel savored the sights of the city a moment longer, letting your news sink in before pushing off the railing, standing to his full height. "Come on, we should head back in. We still have a mission to finish."

"Right," you agreed, following after him. You had forgotten how bright the ballroom was, squinting at the brightness invading your vision. After that, it was back to the mission. This time you stuck close to Miguel's side, there to diffuse the small talk as politely as possible while he continued to search the room.

"The anomaly is in this room, stay on the alert."

You nodded at his instruction, eyes peeled for any guests who might be glitching in and out of reality. However, your attention was limited, eyes drawn to the aquarium you had seen earlier. It truly was a sight to behold, Miguel had pulled you away before you got the chance to get a good look. Twenty feet in height and a blue that was equally unnatural and alluring. Decorated to perfection, because of course it was, with well placed rocks that had corals of various colors and shapes sprouting between them. The fish were just as diverse, shapes and colors that glided about the water. Some you had never seen before, while others were a familiar sight. A pair of clownfish nestling into some anemone, a whale shark swimming above the reef, an octopus with a monocle and- Wait a minute.

"Miguel," you patted his arm to get his attention, pointing at the discovery. Your eyes had not deceived you, there was indeed an octopus, sporting a monocle that was reminiscent of a cyberpunk style, the glowing green eye within darting around suspiciously. Upon second glance, you saw that this octopus also sported two mechanical tentacles, the style matching the device over its eye.

"You've got to be kidding me," Miguel groaned, "this was a high threat alert." As if to answer his question, the creature glitched, startling a school of fish that then scattered about the tank.

"Yeah, real threatening, he might take over the entire aquarium."

"Can it, let's just get the thing and- what are you doing?"

"Hold on, I want to take a picture. Vada's gonna get a kick out of this."

Tags: @l0sert0wn​ @deputy-videogamer​ @arctic4life​ @sasaleleselfships​ @autismsupermusicalassassin​ @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic​ @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019   @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez @migueloharaslxt @obi-mom-kenobi​ @allysunny​ @viriexo @futuristicpandakid ​ @louderfortheback @tomhollandisabae @itzsab @blue-pears-blog @geraskier-thots @saintskully @johnny-pie @keenzinemugstudent @rizahawkeye1380 @realalpacorn @prettylittlebrowngirl​ @leahnicole1219​ @i-feel-violated @fandom-ash @graysonshaven @qiaipia @3zae-zae3 @melovetitties @marcswife21 @the-silvercrow @erissco @stqrlightrs

[angel-of-the-moons]

Pavitr x reader where his wife or gf does end up pregnant? Idk maybe one where they find out they are and how they'd react to it, or one where reader has been pregnant a while and they do some...activities.

Canon Events

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: Anxiety, Miguel's Canon Event™ PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnancy anxiety, baby talk!

Pavitr is obviously aged up in this fic

A/N: I'm going to work through my asks a bit to help take my mind off the grief and stress, so I simply had to make this fluffy. I might make a second part to it where it gets spicy, once I feel better.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Wuh-oh." Lyla said, swiping through the pop-up monitors surrounding her tiny yellow frame.

"What is it, Lyla?" Miguel asked, sipping his coffee. His deep chocolate eyes focused on the AI's persona as she squinted at the data.

"New canon event detected, Migs." She said, typing faster than any human could ever fathom.

"Where." He said, immediately setting his coffee down to furrow his brows at her.

Already he could feel his body tense at the news, after what happened with Miles and his canon event, not to mention Miguel's own...

He couldn't handle another mutiny, not when everything had finally been settled back into place, the web repaired and strengthened.

"Whose universe is it? Which one?"

"It's... Pavitr's." Lyla said, her eyebrows rising considerably behind her heart-shaped glasses.

He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Great. What horrible situation did fate have in plan for that particular Spider-Man, now? His Aunty Maya dying? One of his friends? You?

He knew Pavitr understood the importance of canon events, but...

"How bad?"

"Actually it's..." Lyla let out a startled chuckle, tipping her head to grin at Miguel with her crooked teeth. "It's... well, okay, depending on your point of view it could be good or bad, but I think Pavitr might consider this a good one--"

"Lyla..." He sighed, tapping his foot.

"Alright, alright big guy, don't get your panties in a twist." She snorted, "Pulling it up now."

Miguel turned his thick frame to peer at the hologram as an image of you materialized behind him.

It looked like you were in some kind of doctor's office. Judging by the pictures on the wall, some sort of women's health center.

He squinted at the posters, every inch of the room, until his eyes finally focused on you, holding papers in your hand, shaking, the gold band on your ring finger catching the lights above and glinting a little too brightly for his eyes.

Miguel slowly began to circle your image as you read the papers. Your face looked cold and clammy, a bead of sweat trickled down your brow.

Cancer? No, no, Lyla said this was good news, for once.

So, what...

His brows shot up, the creases in his tanned skin deepening as he leaned in to peer over your shoulder at the paperwork.

He rapidly scanned each word. Your flu tests came back negative, no allergens to report, no life-threatening diseases...

But the blood results are what intrigued him.

Estrogen levels were elevated...

As were prolactin and progesterone levels.

Miguel had to step back and let his jaw go slack as he looked at you, holding the papers that, printed at the bottom...

Reported a strong, tiny little heartbeat.

You were pregnant. And judging by the levels of hormones in your system, you were halfway through your first trimester.

He watched as your eyes welled up, fat tears burning hot as they broke over the dam of your lashes, dripping down your cheeks. Your doctor handed you some tissues and rubbed your back, smiling sweetly as she calmed you down.

"I know, I know, honey. It's overwhelming... Just breathe." She coos.

You wipe at your eyes and take a few shaky breaths. "I just... I'm sorry, it's hard to control it all. Ugh, I've been wondering why I've been so moody lately, but my period was late!"

"Mhmm... hormones will do that to a mama." She says patiently. "What will you tell your husband?"

"I think--"

Miguel raised his hand to Lyla to stop the hologram. This was something deeply personal, and it didn't sit right in his gut about this, that he found out before Pavitr...

He pulled up his gizmo and pulled up Pavitr's frequency, his fingers moving a little too fast so he had to backtrack a couple of times.

Finally, the voice to the chipper, younger hero came through.

"Hi, boss! Uh... What's up?" He said awkwardly.

"Go home, Pavitr, I'm assigning someone else to your workload." He said, his tone a bit softer than usual.

"I--whuh--huh?" He could hear the bewilderment in the man's voice as he stammered for a reply.

"Just go home, Pavitr. That's an order."

"I... Eh. Uh. O-okay?"

Miguel sighed as he terminated the connection.

He hoped Pavitr was ready for this.

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"Heee-llo my beautiful wife!" Pavitr called out, dropping his duffel by the door, a bit of a pep in his step as he walked through your apartment to look for you.

Pavitr called your name once or twice, and his brows creased with worry when you didn't respond. Were you out? No... No. Your shoes were by the front door.

He spotted you, sitting at the island in your kitchen, a cup of hot chai in your delicate hands.

You giggled softly as he kissed your shoulder and cheek on excessive pecks and loud "mwah's" before dropping his chin onto your shoulder.

He looked at your social media feed (actually it was some kind of forum that you quickly closed) and chirped, "Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh, just... stuff." You say evasively, squirming in your seat.

"Oh? What kinda stuff?"

"Oh, I..." You say, splaying your hands over an envelope. The logo on the sticker was from your usual doctor's office, and his brows pinched in concern.

"Sweetheart, what's up? You said you had a doctor's appointment today. Is everything okay?"

"W-Well, I... I mean..." You swallow thickly. "It's... I-I mean..."

"Are you okay???" He spun your stool around to hold your shoulders, his big dark eyes wide with concern for you as he scanned your face for any signs of... anything.

"I..." You cast a glance back at the envelope. The words felt like cotton in a dry mouth, choking and unable to utter.

Why were you so nervous about this? You talked about this together, brainstormed the "what-ifs" a million times during late nights, limbs tangled as sweat cooled on your bodies beneath the sheets.

You knew Pavitr would never be... angry about this. With you.

So why was there a nasty pit in the deepest part of your stomach right now?

Pavitr looked at the envelope, and slowly reached out for it, waiting for you to tell him to stop or if you were uncomfortable.

You wrung your fingers together and chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously as you watched him read your papers, mumbling about how everything looked okay.

But...

Then his eyes got to the last page. Your pregnancy test results.

He lifted the paper--almost comically--close to his face.

For agonizing milliseconds that felt like ages, the papers hid his face from view. All you could see was how he trembled, his fists clenching around the paper.

Finally, he lowered them, and those big, beautiful, dark eyes were glistening with tears and his lip was wobbling.

"I'm l--I'm--I'm gonna be a dad?" He blubbered near-incoherently.

"Y.... yes." You peep.

The papers were immediately forgotten as he buried his face into your chest and full-on started to ugly cry, babbling about how much he loved you and how happy he was.

Why on Earth were you ever afraid of how he'd react to the news?

You sniffled and hiccuped, his high emotional rollercoaster hitting you, too.

Immediately, he lifted his snot-covered, tear-stained face to look up at you, and his hands went to your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

"Hey, hey, hey! I love you! I love you so so so so so so so--"

"Pav..." You sniffed.

"Right, right." He muttered lifting his head to look down the hall. The room you two had turned into a room for your sewing projects was across the hall from your room. A little small, compared to yours, but...

"So if we can move stuff around, your machine can come out here, then we can put the crib in there..."

You blink dumbly at him.

"W... wait so you... You're serious? About.... about this?"

Pavitr turns to you with a grin, grabbing a paper napkin from the counter and completely cleaning his face, taking a fresh one and dabbing your tears away.

He kissed the tip of your nose, then your forehead, your cheeks, and finally, your lips.

Pavitr's hands moved low, pressing over your belly ever so gently. His eyes flicked up to yours once again.

"You and this... our little baby, are the most important things in my life." He swears. "I'm never going to back out on either of you."

He kisses you on the lips one more time, pulling away enough to touch your cheek, a grin on his charming, handsome face.

"So! Wanna look at baby stuff online? We can order takeout and chill!"

You didn't know why you were ever worried in the first place.

[atlasscrumpit]

Patient Reader x Doctor Miguel 🔞

(it's very dark and nsfw! It's very twisted in the sense that you're insane and want to have babies with your therapist and touch yourself thinking about it, so if you read ahead that's your business)

Miguel sat in front of you going through your files as you looked at him and studied his face.

"You're too handsome to be a doctor you know that, Miggy?" You said as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

"It's Doctor O'Hara... God I hate when I have to talk to you." He groaned as you giggled.

"Aww, come on. You find it fun, don't you?" You said as he took off his glasses and looked at you.

"Y/N, I'm in no mood to deal with any of this so please just listen to me." He said as you looked at him.

"Fine, fine I'll be a good little girl for you." You replied making him roll his eyes.

"I just need ask you the usual questions we ask each week." He said as you nodded.

"Okay, I'm sorry I'll behave."

You answered all of the doctors questions before he finished up.

"Okay, thank you Y/N. You can go have lunch." He said, you stood up and slowly came towards him.

"I answered all your questions... Doesn't that mean I get a reward?" You asked, leaning over his desk.

"Y/N, we've spoken about this over and over. What happened was a brief moment of weakness when I was having a terrible week. What happened between us, stays between us and will never happen again. Okay?" He demanded as you looked down at him and bit your lip.

"But... I haven't stopped thinking about you. And I know you miss me." You whispered running your hand along his shoulder, he reached up and gripped your wrist.

"Go. Before I throw you into solitary." He growled as you chuckled.

"Fine, I'll think about your when I'm eating sausages for lunch." You replied before walking away making him groan in annoyance.

--

You laid in bed at night alone in your room, you were thankful everyone had their own rooms here.

You laid on your back as you bit your lip and reached down to your panties and started to rub your clit.

"Fuck... That's it." You growled as you moaned and leant your head back.

You guided your hand down and started to finger yourself thinking about your doctor.

"God, why don't you just fuck me... Get me pregnant... Make me your pretty little wife." You said as you moaned and started going faster.

"Fuck! You just wanna play mommy and daddy don't you?" You moaned out as the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy filled the room.

"Yes! Yes, oh fuck daddy, just fill mommy with your filthy seed!" You screamed out as you arched your back and felt yourself climaxing, you went even faster as your slick completely covered your hand.

You fell against the bed as you panted, you brought your hand up to your mouth and cleaned of your hand with your tongue.

"Mmm, so yummy." You muttered, giggling softly before you stood up and went over to one of the posters you had on your wall.

You pulled it up to reveal numbers you'd carved into the wall, you grabbed a pen out and carved another number in.

"There... That's fifty times you've made me cum, doc." You said before putting the pen away and collapsing back onto your bed and cuddling into your teddy.

"Night night, Miggy."

--

You woke up the next day to go to breakfast and sat alone like usual.

Apparently there was a new doctor coming in today and unfortunately you has the first appointment with him.

You finished your breakfast and went to the new doctors office, you opened it and saw a young man sitting there.

"Oh, there you. You must be Y/N." He said as you narrowed your eyes.

"Why you here, huh? You trying to get rid of O'Hara?" You questioned as he chuckled softly.

"No, not at all. They just wanted an extra doctor that's all. Do you want to have a seat?" He said as you sat down and crossed your arms.

He pressed a button on his computer.

"Okay, let's not let anyone hear our little session. I've heard a few rumours about you, Y/N. I know you're a very good little girl for some but not much for others. So, what do I need to do to make you my good little girl?" He said as you looked at him in shock.

"Are you hitting on me?" You asked in shock as he chuckled, he stood up and knelt beside your chair.

"Come on, sweetheart. You're a pretty little thing and I know you like that kind of attention. So, make this easier for me, won't you? This job is hard for me and I like to have someone to help me wind down. If you do it for me I'll make sure you get extra food." He said as he ran his hand up your thigh and squeezed lightly.

"Hell no! I'm not cheating on my husband!" You screamed as you backed away.

He stood up and laughed.

"Husband? And who would that be?" He asked in amusement.

"Doctor O'Hara... It's not official yet but he will be my husband." You said as he laughed and shook his head.

"Oh, baby. You're completely gone aren't you? It's okay, I don't mind that you're crazy." He said as he came closer, he backed you up against the wall and ran his hand up your hip.

"So, how'd a pretty little thing like you end up here? Did daddy touch you a little too much when you were little?" He said before you headbutted him and kicked his ribs.

"Someone help!" He screamed out before you ran out. Two nurses came in and grabbed you as you screamed and tried to fight against them.

They quickly administered a sedative, you cried as you began to fall unconscious.

--

You woke up in solitary, you didn't get up you just wrapped your arms around yourself.

You heard the door open and you shivered, scared of who it was.

"Y/N. You wanna tell me what the hell happened? Because all the other doctors are too scared to ask and now our newest doctor is at the hospital with broken ribs." You heard Miguel say as you sat up and looked at him.

"He deserved it." You muttered as Miguel sighed and sat on the other bed across from you.

"Why did he deserve it?" Miguel asked as you felt tears in your eyes.

"He tried to have sex with me." You said as he sighed.

"Y/N, are you sure that's what happened?" He asked as you glared at him.

"Yes! It happened! He tried it! No one believes me!" You screamed as you gripped at your hair.

Miguel grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your head.

"Hey, it's okay. I do believe you, I just had to ask. Can you tell me what he did?" He asked, still holding onto your hand.

You recalled every detail of what happened, even what he smelt like.

Once you were done Miguel nodded.

"Okay, I believe you. He disabled the cameras in his office which is pretty sketchy. I'm sorry he did that, Y/N. It would've brought up a lot of old memories, huh?" He asked as you began to cry.

"I don't like been treated like a fucking sex doll!" You shouted as Miguel looked at you sadly.

"I know, I know, sweetheart and I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel that way." He whispered as you slowly started to calm down.

"No... No you never made me feel like that. You made me feel good and like I mattered." You muttered as he smiled softly.

"I care about you, Y/N. I'll make sure he never comes near you, okay?" He said as you nodded.

"Thanks, Miggy. Also I fingered myself thinking about you last night." You said as he groaned and face palmed.

"Y/N, I would much rather you didn't tell me." He said as you laughed.

"Aww don't you wanna hear how I licked-

"You're staying in solitary for a while!"

[beezusvreeland]

dear reader - chapter 8

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 8

Miguel tried to make as little noise as possible while he moved through the kitchen trying to figure out what to cook for dinner. You were asleep on the couch, mouth slightly opened and body curled to the side. Before getting up from the floor, Miguel spent a few minutes observing your sleepy figure breathing in and out. He was mesmerized by how relaxed you looked. It was so rare to see you like this. Always the one taking care of everything and everyone, including him. How was Miguel realizing that just now? The two of you had been friends for so long. 

In fact, your restlessness had been something Miguel and the boys regularly used to tease and poke fun at you. “Just relax, darling”, Hobie would say, and they would go on insinuating that having a more active sex life could make things better for you. You would roll your eyes at them and say: “I’m not taking advice from a bunch of manwhores. Except you, Pav, you are a gentleman”. 

Sometimes Miguel would keep at it, just to see how far he could go, what it would take for you to break. He didn’t mean any harm by it, he just got a kick out of watching you, always so proper and poised, losing your composure. Your cheeks turning red, lips pouting and your speech getting faster and confusing the more bothered you felt. It was funny then. 

But things have changed since Miguel started reading your column. Or rather, his perception of you. There was so much more to you. It was fascinating to learn more about the way you saw the world, with so many nuances and big feelings and the way you were able to express it through your writing. How could one be so sensitive and articulate at the same time? If the therapy sessions with doctor Octavius taught him anything, it was the fact that discussing feelings and analyzing his own memories and actions was extremely hard. Probably one of the hardest things Miguel has ever done.

In his science and objectivity brain, he thought therapy would be like any other doctor’s appointment: get in, talk about what’s wrong, get a prescription and get out. Doctor Octavius very patiently explained that his practice worked with a different approach. 

“Our process isn’t fast or linear. I can’t tell you how long it will take, it’s different for each patient. Some people come in for a few sessions and feel like that’s enough, others have been in therapy for their entire lives”, the doctor explained. “What I can tell you with certainty is that this is a safe space for you to express yourself. It’s an hour of the week all to yourself, without phones, notifications or other people’s demands. And you are free to leave and never come back if you feel that this method doesn’t make sense to you. But I hope you at least give our dynamic a chance.”

He did. There were only a handful of people in his life that he actually liked and doctor Octavius was becoming one of them. Also, Miguel didn’t have any more energy to try and find someone new. That’s why Lyla would work with him for the rest of his life, if it was up to him. She just got it. And he really appreciated that.

For the first time in his life, he was revisiting his childhood. Miguel and his younger brother, Gabriel, were raised by a single mother who overworked herself to get food on the table. There wasn’t time to discuss emotions, anything other than survival felt trivial. She did the best she could, he knew that now. But when he won his first science fair, in second grade, the young boy became addicted to the attention and praise he got from classmates and adults. Over the years, Miguel realized that if he kept focused on school, winning scholarship after scholarship, things would be better, there were so many other opportunities out there. 

And he got them, while distancing himself from his origins, reinventing himself. Now that he achieved the things he wanted the most, like the cars, the house in an expensive neighborhood and the big office with a leather couch, it all just felt…empty. 

“Miguel?”

You enter the kitchen with a yawn, scratching your eyes. The power was still out and the house was poorly lit by the moon and a big flashlight Miguel found in his basement. 

“Gosh, that was one hell of a nap”, you stretched your arms up. “It might enter my top 3 list of best naps I’ve ever had.”

“I can tell by the drool on your mouth.”

Your hand immediately went to your mouth. There was nothing there. 

“Ha-ha.”

“That was too easy”, Miguel grinned, pleased with how rested you looked and that this interaction felt more like the ones the two of you used to have. It was familiar, comforting even. Like the scent of the vanilla soap his mom used to wear or the two friendly slaps Hobie would give his back every time they met. 

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. 

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Cheese, bread and olives”, he said. “Don’t look at me like that, without electricity the options were very limited.”

“I’m honestly shocked that you actually eat bread and cheese. Doesn’t that offend your gym diet or whatever?”

“We all have guilty pleasures, cariño, mine happen to be carbs and Gossip Girl.”

Your lack of response alerted Miguel of what he had just said. Nobody knew about his recent obsession with the show beyond Lyla. What if you somehow connected the dots that he started watching it after reading your column? What if you actually found out he read your column? He wasn’t supposed to know that you were the one behind “Dear reader”. 

“Wait, what?”, a smile took over your face. “Did I just hear it right?”

His body relaxed with your amusement. Maybe it would be better for him just to admit and run with it. 

“I hate Serena van der Woodsen”, Miguel declared. 

“I don’t even know how to react to this revelation”, you leaned on the counter for support, expression still stunned and amused. “How did this even happen?”

“She slept with her best friend’s boyfriend, disappeared, then came back like nothing happened, always runs away from conflict and every single time she speaks like talking to other people was exhausting and…”

“Okay, obviously there is a lot to unpack here”, you grabbed the cheeseboard on top of the counter and gave it to Miguel, who started to cut the cheese. “How do you even know what Gossip Girl is?”

He freezed for a second.

“Did Lyla put you to it?”, you chuckled. “What can’t she do?” 

“Sí…it was Lyla. I lost a bet”, it was the best he could come up with at that moment.

You nodded, smirking. 

“So you hate Serena, huh? Who else do you hate?”

Miguel put the knife on the sink and turned to you.

“Who don’t I hate? They’re terrible, all of them, Chuck, Dan, Vanessa, the parents…”

You laughed, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

“That’s what makes them so entertaining, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, you got a point, cariño”, he stopped for a moment and added: “I do like Dorota, though”. 

“Blair’s maid?”

“She is not just a maid, she is basically a mother figure for Blair.”

“Dorota is also in most of Blair’s schemes…”

“Nuh-uh, cariño. Most times she tries to put some sense in that girl’s head.”

You frowned your brows, smiling. 

“I can’t believe this is a conversation we’re actually having. When did you go soft, mr. O’Hara?”

“I’m not soft.”

“Uh, yes you are. You’re a big soft softie, defending characters of a TV show made for teens that ended a decade ago”, you mocked.

Miguel gave you a serious look. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“Your secret is safe with me, my friend”, you pretended to lock your mouth with an imaginary key. 

Opening it again with the same imaginary key, you added: “But in case I’m ever offered a lot of money to sell any of your secrets to a corporate spy, this is the one I’m going to choose”.

“I forgot you started hallucinating when you get hungry, cariño.”

“Just think about it, they’ll think they’re stealing sensitive data from your research at Alchemax, but it’s actually just a sheet ranking the Gossip Girl characters you hate from most to least hated.”

“Why can’t you just be angry when hungry like most people?”

“It’s a brilliant plan, you’ll be thanking me someday. Hopefully at the IgNobel ceremony. You’ll have to take me to that, by the way.”

“You know it’s the Nobel prize, right?”

“Yes yes, I’m not stupid, I’m just hungry”, you give his shoulder a playful slap. “The IgNobel is another science award, but for more…unusual findings. Studies about the brain chemistry of people who see Jesus on toasts or a theory that humans developed beards to protect themselves from getting punched on the face?

“Cariño, Jesus…”

“Do you see him on toast too?”

“Enough weird science, let’s eat.”

“I’ll send you the link, it happens every year and it’s actually really funny. I’m sure Alchemax could send some stuff for consideration.”

Miguel actually laughs at that. He pretended to hate your energy bursts, but he loved it. You were a sweet drunk and a funny hungry person. 

“You know what? I might actually look into it.”

Miguel brought the cheeseboard to the living room and opened a red wine that, judging by the label, was probably very expensive. You sat on the floor and toasted, then started eating. 

It felt nice. Just to be there eating good food with you and enjoying a comfortable silence. And you looked so pretty with your new haircut and eyes closed while savoring the meal…

A loud sound made the two of you jump. An electronic song started playing from somewhere in the room.

“Shit, it’s my phone”, you got up to find it in your purse.

When you did, you looked at the screen and smiled. 

“I have to take this, I’ll be right back”, you said, going to the next room. 

The little bubble you lived in for a few hours burst. Miguel thought it was a little weird, you had a tendency to forget your phone completely while spending quality time with your friends. Maybe it was a work thing or your family checking in with you after the storm. 

It had been a few minutes since you left when he started to feel uneasy. He got his phone from his pocket. A few texts in the friends’ group chat and one from Lyla:

ARE YOU ALIVE??????!

Sí, he answered, knowing that she hated monosyllabic answers. 

But it had been ten minutes then and he had reorganized the cheese on the board, drank more wine and stretched his body and you still hadn’t come back.

I’m at my place with y/n.

I KNEW IT, SHE IS THE ONE YOU’VE BEEN PINING FOR!!! AAAA

No, just friends

OH, PLEASE, MIGUEL, IF I WERE STUPID YOU WOULDN’T HAVE HIRED ME

Qué

UGH REALLY?

PENDEJO

Don’t use my language against me

OH I WILL IF THAT’S WHAT MAKES YOU LISTEN TO REASON

…

YOU CAN’T JUST THROW THE INFO THAT YOU’RE TOGETHER AND LEAVE ME HERE

Just friends

UGH

IS SHE NEXT TO YOU RIGHT NOW?

No, she’s been on the phone 

It’s been almost 15 minutes now

SHIT

What’s that supposed to mean? 

???

Lyla???

????????

Damn it, Lyla!!!! 

SHE PROBABLY HAS A BOYFRIEND AND I’M GUESSING IT ISN’T YOU

Nonsense

FOR THE FIRST TIME YOU’LL HAVE TO WORK FOR IT

IN THE DATING DEPARTMENT

…

KEEP ME INFORMED 

***

Dear reader,

Intimacy can mean different things for each person. It’s something that, as women, we start building with one another since childhood. We all remember our very best friends, who we shared moments and secrets that we remember to this day. Or that one girl in middle school that we were friends with for only a few months that might as well have been years, because it caused a huge impact on us. They taught me how to be vulnerable and resilient. In many ways, those friendships were my first loves. 

Recently, my editor sent me an infographic with data about you, dear readers. Nothing creepy, just things like age range and general location, you know, information every website collects. I must say, I was surprised to find that 30% of you identify as male. It didn't occur to me that this space would be of interest to you, but I’m glad it is.

Talking about intimacy reminds me of this one guy I was friendly with in college. We met in a class we had together and started talking, which evolved to texting. Our conversations revolved around homework and a sitcom we both watched. To me, it wasn’t something too deep. But to him, it was. He would bring that show up all the time, as if by itself, our one shared interest made us closer than we actually were. Like that was enough for me to fall for him, when he was actually being sort of annoying and creeping me out. 

It never occurred to him to ask questions about me or my other interests. It was all about him and his perception, which was more of a fantasy than anything. No wonder so many women are frustrated in their relationships with men: they can’t match the intimacy we’ve built with each other.

However, things have been changing and women are no longer accepting to be alone in their relationships. I know I’m not. So male readers, if you take anything from this column, I hope it is this: open yourselves up, look beyond yourselves and catch up. We’ve been doing the hard work for a very long time.

That’s it for today. Next week, I’ll be answering a few of your questions, make sure to write to me in the box below. The authors shall remain anonymous and, the hate mail, ignored. 

Until then, never take advice from someone who’s falling apart. 

Love,

The writer

***

You came back to the living room to find Miguel playing a game on his phone. He didn’t look up to you.

“Sorry I took so long, I lost track of time”, you said sitting back on the floor and taking a sip of your glass of wine. 

“It’s alright”, Miguel put his phone away. “Was it work?”

“No”, you giggled. “It was Matt, he was checking if was okay after the storm.”

“Matt?”

Miguel had a confused expression on his face, which, by experience, you knew to be fake. He had been there when Foggy talked about your first date with Matt. Why he was pretending like he didn’t know, you had no idea.

“This guy I’m seeing. You know, Foggy’s friend? The lawyer?”

“Ah, right.”

“Things have been going really well.”

Miguel didn’t say a thing, filling his mouth with cheese instead. 

“He asked me to go to this fancy auction gala with him as his date. I’m excited for it.”

“Sounds like a swell guy.”

“He is.”

“A lawyer, huh? Which firm does he work in?”

“He has his own, actually.”

“Mmm.”

“Mig, what’s going on?”

“What? Nothing, I’m just eating.”

“You looked less than impressed with what I just told you.”

“How was I supposed to react, cariño?”, he sounded annoyed. As much as you told yourself that you were over him, his tone took you back to the worst days of your infatuation with him, when no matter how much you tried to impress him, he would always end up taking somebody else home. 

But the thing is, you were no longer that girl. No matter how hurt you were or how much you liked Miguel, you weren’t taking shit from anyone anymore. 

“You were supposed to be happy for me.” 

Your delivery was calm and serious, which you could see threw Miguel off. “I have an actual shot at love and someone great who’s willing to give it to me. This never happened to me before. I never felt worthy of it”, you took a deep breath. “Why can’t you root for me like I’ve always rooted for you?”

Looking at Miguel, you didn’t find the big hot shot scientist, but rather just a guy who had no idea of what he was doing. 

You got up and went to the bathroom, well aware that you couldn’t be there with him anymore. You couldn’t go backwards and fall apart when Miguel didn’t think highly of you. No matter how much you tried, it just wasn’t going to happen. 

You washed your face and threw some water on your neck to relieve some of the tension. When you opened the door, Miguel was waiting for you. 

“Miguel…”

“I know, I know, cariño, please, just listen to me?”, he asked and you rolled your eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. Of course I’m rooting for you…I guess I’m just protective of you and you haven’t had many boyfriends, so we never really had to go through this…What I’m saying is, I don’t know the guy, so I was suspicious and I shouldn’t be.”

“I’m a big girl, Miguel. I can handle myself”, sensing he was going to interrupt, you continue. “I appreciate your concern, but you can’t use that tone with me ever again. Do you understand?”

“Sí, cariño, lo siento”, he nodded. 

[yes, honey, I’m sorry]

“And if not knowing Matt bothers you so much, I’ll bring him to the bar one of these days and introduce you two.”

“Of course.”

You were emotionally drained. It was like having to explain very basic notions regarding people’s feelings to a big man child. In spite of it, you were proud of yourself for standing your ground and demanding the level of care and respect you deserved. A few months ago that would’ve been impossible.

“Cariño”, Miguel called, his big brown eyes filled with regret. “I just wanted to tell you I…”

He was interrupted by a loud noise, followed by people cheering on the street. The lights were back on.

______________________________________________________________

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dear reader playlist

[gemini-sensei]

Need more Robby x PregnantReader fluff :( that shit was sooo so cute

@sensei-venus is amazing at writing Robby 🙈 I'm a little jealous, but i got an idea for a Robby fluff, so here it is.

Robby Keene x Pregnant!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ fluff ft. Robby angst ○ unedited ○ goes with the future parents au (as I'm calling it ig)

I didn't know how to end this exactly, so sorry if it feels unfinished. Also I haven't been to a ultrasound since I was 5 so I'm going based off of basic knowledge lol. hope you enjoy!

Robby feels like a tornado is raging inside of him as he sits beside his wife. His leg his bouncing and no matter what he does, he can't stop it. There's no reason for him to be nervous, it's only a scan to find out if the baby is a boy or a girl. It's not as if they're there for anything else. He knows that they have a healthy little baby on the way, but there's something in the back of his mind telling him that something can still go sideways. Otherwise, why would he feel this way?

Reader squeezes his hand and he looks up at her, seeing her happy smile. It always manages to brighten to mood, even if he feels like his joints have turned to jelly and his stomach is flip-flopping. All of that eases with one look and a kiss on the cheek.

She giggles. "You're nervous."

It's no question. She knows. He knows she knows. Still, he wants to deny it. He hums and looked down at his shoes. "I guess."

"What do you want the baby to be?" she asks, turning all her attention onto him.

They were still waiting to be called back, like they had been for several minutes now. They'd arrived a little early and the doctor wasn't ready for them, still seeing another patient. Though it had only been a few minutes, it felt as though they've been sitting there for at least an hour. The entire time, all he could think about was their little one.

Their itty bitty little one it seemed, as Reader is hardly showing much at all despite being halfway through her pregnancy. Her belly appears more tubby than pregnant, which sometimes make Robby wonder if he's imagined all this. In comparison to Hawk and Miguel's partners, his wife was so small. Hawk's girlfriend was three times the size of Reader whilst Miguel's wife was even bigger! The glory of multiples, he supposes, silently happy that they were having just one baby.

In all honesty, Robby isn't sure if he'd be able to handle taking on more than one baby. His own childhood experience was far from perfect, in fact it sat on the complete other side of perfect. He knows little to nothing about babies, but he's been figuring it all out. So when it comes down to it, he isn't sure if it matters whether he wants a little boy or a little girl.

He just wants to be a good dad to them.

"I don't know," he admits softly, looking at Reader with gentle eyes. He smiles at her. "Whatever you want."

"I'm fifty-fifty if I'm being honest," she tells him, playing with his fingers. She spins his wedding ring, which he doesn't mind, and giggles. "Though, maybe I'm leaning toward a boy."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She smiles at him shyly. "I want him to be as handsome as you."

He smiles back at her. "I want our baby to have your smile."

"Really?"

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She starts to tear up and he can't help laughing. He cups her face in his hand and rubs her tears away with his thumb. "Aw, don't cry, please."

"You know I can't help it."

"I know."

He kisses her forehead and as he pulls away, the door opens.

"Keene!"

He stands and extends his hand to his wife, helping her up. They walk back and follow the nurse to a room. They get set up for the scan, Reader hopping up onto the table and lifting her shirt, a little ahead of herself in excitement. Robby is at her side the entire time, smiling at her as she talks to the nurse, updating them on how she's been feeling and how things have been.

The doctor comes in and laughs at Reader's enthusiasm, seeing her already ready for the scan. They all make their greetings to each other, Robby staying on the quiet side as his nerves resurface. The doctor puts on fresh gloves and sits, gels up Reader's belly, and grabs ahold of the wand. Once everything is ready, she gently puts it to Reader's belly.

The picture comes up on the machine and those worries Robby has having before are swept away. Reader had done a good job of distracting him in the waiting room, but nothing puts his mind at ease like seeing their little one. His cheeks hurt with how big his smile gets and he squeezes Reader's hand. She smiles up at him before looking at the screen again.

As the doctor moves the wand, inspecting the image, she nods and eventually says, "the baby looks healthy as can be. We're still a little concerned about their size, but they seem to be progressing just fine. They might just be a small baby at the end of the day." She smiles at the parents to be. "Now, I understand you two wanted to learn the sex of the baby. Is that right?"

"Yes," Robby and Reader answer together. They laugh at themselves, their excitement permeating the air. They feel silly, but in the best way possible. He coughs, calming himself, and says, "Yes, please."

The doctor keeps her smile, radiant and happy, and nods to them. She turns back to the screen, explaining how they're going to look to check. As she moves the wand, Reader does her best to sit still. She wants to wiggle with a mix of excitement and the sensation of the wand tickling her belly. Everyone's eyes are glued to the screen as the image shifts a little, hardly able to wait any longer.

"Ah, there we go," the doctor chuckles. "Tried to hide from me for a second there, but now I see. Congratulations. She's a girl."

Reader cheers with a squeal, new tears coming to her eyes as she shaking Robby's hand in excitement. She simply can't contain herself, she's so happy. She would be just as happy with a little boy.

"A girl, Robby. Did you hear that?" she asks, looking up at him.

However, he's still staring at the frozen image on the screen, a certain sparkle in his eye. He hears his wife, though, and nods slowly. "Yeah, a girl... Our little girl."

[waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle]

Over my head (Miguel ‘o’ Hara x Reader)

Pairing: Miguel x f reader

Summary: y/n is a kind hearted nurse who’s life gets turned upside down as she get fired from one the most prestigious hospitals in NYC , desperate , she start filing job applications wherever. Coincidentally a stressed Miguel is looking for a nurse due to a big amount of spider people getting injured due to the surprisingly large amount of anomalies happening in the spider verse. What could go wrong is these two meet?

Themes: ✎slow burn ( I think)

Mutual pining

✎office romance (¿)

Hidden romance

✎Smut available as story progresses.

Dom Miguel x sub/bratty reader

✎Stubborn, Ill tempered Miguel.

✎ Angelic reader .

It girl reader.

✎I try to be as accurate as possible.

English is not my first language so bare with me.

✎badass stoic x sweet empath.

Og spanish speaker so be prepared for steamy dialogue :3

See master list for previous or future chapters

Chapter 1: pilot.

Everything was going great , really it was , you finally managed to become independent and move out, managed to get an amazing job with your hard worked degree, and lastly you were earning enough to get by and pay your student loans.

Until one fateful night you clocked in for your shift as a critical care nurse with your cute violet scrubs , one thing your coworkers really admired about you was your honest heart and true willingness to take care of those whose been injured tragically in a blink of an eye. You took your job very seriously and really put your soul into every stitch and intubation. So was the case when a powerful politician from your city arrive after a failed assassination attempt, you and your team managed to stabilize him and all procedures in the ICU went well.

In terms of post care you medicated him according to doctors order, you didn't go a gram over his pain medication and he seemed to be recovering quickly and well. Things started to go side ways when you had to leave work early since a friend of yours, Gigi got blackout drunk after a break up in a sketchy part of town. Not being able to handle the thought of all the things that could happen to her ;you left your patient to a newbie , trusting him to take good care of your patient (big mistake).

After leaving Gigi in her home , you called to get the rest of your day off so you could enjoy a well deserved break and catch up on some series you've left behind .The next morning you arrived to the hospital and quickly noticed your coworkers heads turning in your directos  staring at you with a wide gaze. You thought nothing of it and went to check on your patient room to see how all went last night. As soon as you entered the room you saw some iv drips on the floor , pillows and a mattress thrown to oblivion and most importantly your patient going bat shit crazy assaulting the newbie you left him in charge of , in the meanwhile some other nurses try to get him off the poor guy who was just trying to do you a favor.

Next thing you know you're rushing to the locked medicine room to later show your ID to enter the room so you can  quickly insert the tranquilizer in a  syringe to have ready . After locking up the place  you sprint back to room number #13 hoping no one is gravely injured, soon you open the door to then tip toe on ceramic tiles as you attempt to knock out the source of all the chaos.

To your bad luck the newbies eyes looking at the politicians back betrays you and in the blink of an eye you're the one that's being chocked on.

-“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM! GIVE ME SOME MORE OF THAT GOOD SHIT AND ILL BE ON MY FUCKING WAY.ITS NOT THAT BLOODY HARD.”- After the patient yelled this out everything clicked in your mind , the newbie nurse must have given him a heavy dose leaving him now in some sort of withdrawal.  But for the moment all you have to think about is how to get out of this alive , the pressure on your neck starts to make your vision hazy before you black out you throw the syringe to a nurse nearby and the next thing you see is black.

A few minutes later you flutter your eyes open and find yourself in a separate room with the newbie nurse standing by your side.

-“Y/n , how are you? I'm so sorry for how thing turned out, turns out the patient had prior history of substance abuse that wasn't on the chart and he somehow convinced me he was in indescribable pain so I switched up the medicine to dia morphine.- Said the ditzy nurse as he looked at the ground with shame.”

-“You did what?!”- You yelled out sitting straight.

・゜゜・．

Meanwhile in spider society headquarters things seemed to be going rough...

Lately there's been far to many anomalies, taking more spider men than normal to complete missions while also getting more injured than never.

Some spider man were returning so beat up that they couldn't return to their own universe , leaving some altruistic spider people to patch up their injuries to the best of their abilities and bring them home.

-“Miguel , we need to get some sort of medical assistance up in here. You can't keep asking Lyla to guess is someone is in a comma or just concussed. God forbid I start pushing out this baby due to the stress I'm suffering.”- Stated Jessica drew while walking back and forth in Miguel's office.

-“They're spider people they have to get used to a scratch or too.”- mumbled Miguel while looking through his screens for any new anomalies.

-“Miguel i know it's tough to find someone to confide in but please , you're the leader of this organization for a reason , think of their families and partners they'll start to worry , they shouldn't get used to their  loved one coming home with a lip busted open just cause their boss doesn't want to Pay for their health care.”

Spiderman 2099 proceeds to squeeze his eyes with force refusing to accept that all the recent events and getting out of his hands while squeezing the bridge of his nose but with a final exhale he decided to do what's right.

-“Don't worry about it , I'll get to it as soon as possible.”- he replied trying to give Jessica some reassurance

・゜゜・．

-“I assume you know why you’re here y/n.”- Said the hospitals director, in her office as you sat down in front of her , unable to lift your face following the series of catastrophic events.-“I think you and I both know you've made a mistake , but you and I both know you've contributed a lot to this hospital”- said the blond haired director as she stood up started walking around the room.-“What happened yesterday was partially your fault but mainly not , my dear friend ,your patient;  has a little addiction that's harmful to nobody. The newbie giving him dia morphine was the next step for him to level up his addiction. He's tried some other shit before but nothing as good as the pain killer administered to him the day of the events. So taking all things Into consideration i leave you two options

Voluntary resignation or...”- as the words exited the directors mouth you felt your whole world fall to the ground everything you worked for poof , gone in a blink of an eye.- “Or continuing administering dia morphine and other requested pain killers to my friend safely while creating fake patient charts to justify the use of  said drugs to the board of directors.”

இ

After signing in your resignation you cried all the way home on the subway not caring who was watching, how did your life turn out like this? You couldn't blame Gigi, she didn't know all of this was gonna happen.

As soon as you arrived to your apartment you took out a bucket of stratichella ice cream and started applying for jobs right away online.

After almost a week with no luck you started to get desperate. The last job offer that was left was one where you checked all the requirements the down side is they were looking for a male nurse. But as you re read the requirements to decided sure they would change their minds as soon as as they saw your qualifications.

Requirements.

-Registered nurse.

-3+ Years of experience.

-Certified specialist in critical care.

- Motivated and hard working.

-Skillful and diligent.

-Time availability.

-Works well under pressure.

-Age: 23- 30 years old.

-Good physical and mental health.

-No criminal history.

-male

Company: Spid-so.co

Employer: Michael 'o' hare.

Email for inquiries: Lylalovesbunnie999@spidso.com