#spiderman2099 x reader

[fandoms-writings]

Stay with Me

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader (fem! intended)

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: He knows he shouldn’t see you, that coming to you puts you in danger. But sometimes, Miguel just needs to let himself have your softness, even if it’s just for a couple hours. (based on the prompt: “stop staring”/“i can’t, you look so pretty like this”)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, tiny bit of nipple play, miguels canines (those deserve their own warning), miguel has some inner turmoil, miguel’s kinda subby in this one oops

A/N: Thank you so so much to @perdidosbucky-yyo​ for all of the spanish sections and the prompt and @banana-cheese-cake​ for beta reading! I love both of you very much <3 

This is a part of my neon milestone party - if you’d like to request a prompt, please see this post <3

Translations for all phrases/terms used will be at the end <3

You were walking through your apartment, animatedly talking on the phone as you picked up while you paced - a habit he'd seen with his own eyes more times than he should’ve allowed himself. 

Miguel wanted to wait for you to finish your conversation, but he needed you. He shouldn’t even be here, putting you at risk like this, but if he made his visit quick, it’d be okay. 

He swung over to your window, settled on the fire escape and waited for you to return to the living room. He could slide it open and let himself in, you'd told him so last time, but it felt wrong, especially when you were distracted. 

Once he saw you round the corner, he did the series of knocks the two of you had decided on after his second time here and your attention whipped over to see him. You all but ran to the window, sliding it open and allowing him to slip through, the wind from outside blowing your curtains to brush against your arms. 

"Hey, can I call you back later? I've got something I need to take care of." He heard your friend agree on the other end, telling you she loves you and to have a good night before you hung up the phone, reaching over to place it on the coffee table.

You kept your eyes on him, his frame towering over you like it did every time the two you partook in this dance of yours. You'd never denied him, never turned him away no matter how many times he left. You didn't care how long he'd be gone for, you always welcomed him back. 

You'd hold your arms out, like you were now, waiting for him to be the one to close the gap, and he always did. Sometimes, he'd scoop you up in a rush of passion and haste, and sometimes, like this one, he'd crumple before you. Falling to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your legs as you cradled his head in your arms, your fingers pulling the mask off his head and threading through his hair. 

You never rushed him, allowing him to take as long as he needed, but it was these days that you both knew you'd be in charge for the night. Usually, he was the one who took care of you, brought you orgasm after orgasm, throwing you headfirst into subspace while he worshiped your softness. 

But there were some nights where he didn't want to be in charge anymore. He'd had enough of being a leader - leading the spider society, fixing the multiverse and trying to keep it contained - it took a toll. You gladly took over, showing him care and love that he knew he didn't deserve. 

You two almost never wasted time getting to what he came for - you didn't have the time to waste in the first place. This wasn't his reality, it was yours, and he couldn't risk being here for too long. 

You pulled him up from the floor, pulling him over to the couch. You helped peel his suit away, tossing it to the armchair by the window before making him sit on the couch. 

One of the things he loved about you was that you two didn't need words most of the time. You could push or pull him in any direction and it was like he instinctively knew exactly what you wanted from him. 

He watched as you pushed your shorts down, letting them and your panties fall to the floor before kicking them off to the side. He held his hand out to stead you as you straddled his hips and cradled his face, your thumbs brushing against the sharp lines of his jaw and his high cheekbones as your lips descended on his. His hands wound around your waist and up your back, pressing your chest into his. 

Your hands moved to grip the hair at the base of his neck, tipping his head back so you could easily slide your tongue past his lips and tasting his mouth as he groaned. The heat and slick from your core lit his nerves on fire as you ground your hips into his.  

One of your palms left his neck, reaching down between you to wrap around his shaft, making him gasp into your mouth as you tugged on it, squeezing slightly at the tip. 

"F-fuck, hermosa," He muttered into your neck, mouthing at the spot just under your ear, his breath coming out in slow pants. "Don't tease." 

"Uh uh," You pulled on the hair at the base of his neck to pull his face from your neck, looking down at him through hooded eyes, "You need to earn it." 

He nodded, swallowing down the pitiful whine that had crawled up his throat as you helped him shift to lay across the cushions. Your body shifted from side to side as you maneuvered your way up his torso, moving your knees to either side of his head. 

Your hand caressed the side of his face as you cooed down at him, "Such a good boy," it fell from your lips like gospel and he let it wash over him, only allowing himself to believe it while under you. 

His hands reached up behind you, grabbing the flesh of your hips and pushing you towards him. You smirked down at him before settling your weight down against face, his lips immediately attaching to your clit, his tongue expertly rolling over the bundle of nerves. 

The feeling of your hands in his hair with his tongue buried inside your cunt was all Miguel wanted to feel for the rest of his miserable life. He didn't want to go back to his time - to his mistakes. He didn't want the responsibility of the multiverse on his shoulders. 

He wanted to stay here, wrapped up in your legs, your words, your touch, your smell, your taste. To not have to be spiderman anymore, to just be yours for you to use in any way you wish, whenever you wished - he could only dream, and he could barely let himself do that. 

He didn't want to allow himself to get used to you, the softness of your skin, the way your nails raked through his hair or down his back, the sounds that tumbled from your lips when he flattened his tongue over your folds, groaning into you. 

He couldn't get attached to you. 

But he could allow himself a couple hours with you before having to go back to his own reality. 

"Just like that," you moaned as he gripped your thighs harder, squeezing your legs in his large hands as you reached forward for the arm of the couch, bracing yourself as you started to grind down against his tongue. "Oh, fuck - don't you dare stop." 

He shook his head into you as you pressed down - he'd never stop if you let him. 

He reached down, to give himself some sort of relief until you were ready to take him, but your hand caught his wrist, pulling it back up and putting it under your shirt to cup your breast, your fingers squeezing around his until he really gripped your chest as he moaned into you. 

“Keep your hands on me," You panted, looking down at him with a heavy gaze, "I’ll take care of you, I promise." Your hand came down to brush through his hair, "I'll make you feel good, okay?" 

He moaned at your promise, he knew you'd follow through on it, you always did. So he kept his hands on you, never letting go of your skin and focusing all of his attention on you and your dripping cunt. 

The way your legs twitched on either side of his head told him you were close, ready to fall over the edge. You tried to pull up before grinding back down, but he followed you, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue pressed as far into your hole as it could go. 

Your legs snapped around his head, squeezing as your body tensed above him and your release flooded his mouth. He groaned as your walls clenched around his tongue and he drank everything you had to offer. With your legs clamped around his head, he couldn't hear you, but he watched from under you, the way your back arched and your head fell back, your jaw open in a sinful moan he wished he could hear, but knew he would before he left.

Your body jolted as he continued devouring you, dragging the points of his canines along your folds before following with his tongue. 

You pulled his hands off of you so he couldn't hold you to him and shifted your way back down his body, your hips settling over one of his thighs, smearing your mess into his skin. Your eyes moved up his torso until they locked with his own and from the smirk that grew on your lips, he knew he must look fucked out already, but he didn't care. 

All he wanted was for you to touch him. But you were just staring, your gaze moving from his eyes to his chest to his cock and back up again. 

"Muñeca," he begged, "please." He only ever begged from you, no one else ever got to see him like this, and you knew it too. He wasn't shy about telling you that after he let the pleading tone slip into his words one night. "Stop staring." 

You cooed up at him, sitting up and removing your shirt before leaning over him, your breasts brushing against his shaft, sending jolts up his spine. "Let me take a second to look at you, I don't get to see you very often." The longing in your voice buried deep in his chest, digging at his resolve to not stay longer than usual. "Besides, you look so pretty like this." 

He knew you wanted him to stay, every time you tried to convince him, but he didn't want to put your world at risk to be destroyed. He didn't want to lose you too. So he never stayed longer than necessary. 

You knew the risks of him staying too long, he made sure to tell you so you wouldn't think he was being avoidant. 

A gasp tore through his throat as you leaned down, swiping your tongue from base to tip along the underside of his cock before taking the tip into your mouth, licking off the precum. 

"Fuck," He gritted out, his hands coming forward to cup your head. Your hands came from around the backs of his legs, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from your head, holding them in your own at his hips as you worked your mouth further down his length until your nose buried in the hair at the base. You pulled up, swirled your tongue around the tip, and back down. 

"No mames diosa," he groaned looking down at you to see you staring up at him with your eyes wide, pupils blown. You hummed around his length as you bobbed your head, the sensation shooting up his spine and pulling another moan from his mouth, "please." 

He knew by the glint in your eyes that you knew what he was asking for, but you always were a tease. You pulled your lips off of him with a pop, letting it fall down to hit his torso. 

"Please what, guapo, " you purred, knowing what Spanish rolling off your tongue did to him. 

Usually, he'd huff, putting up a fight asking for what he wanted, but with you it was different. He enjoyed asking you, begging you, releasing control to you. 

"Te necesito," he muttered, fighting off the pitiful tone of his voice, "I need you, please." 

At the crack in his voice, your eyes softened and you crawled up his torso, releasing his hands so he could touch you, his palms immediately finding their way to your waist. 

"I got you, papi," You muttered, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his pouted lips. "I got you." 

You pulled him up to sit with his back against the back of the couch before your hand snuck between your bodies, reaching down and wrapping around his length before angling him at your entrance. His breath hitched when you started sinking on to him, enveloping him in your tight heat. 

"Oh fuck - " he groaned out once you were seated all the way down. His hands wound around your back, holding your chest to his as he buried his nose in your neck. 

Your moans rang in his ears as you started to bounce, reaching behind him to rake your nails along his scalp. You pulled his head out of your neck, attaching your lips to his, your tongue sliding through to tangle with his own. You only pulled away when you couldn't breathe anymore, staring down at him, watching as he caught one of your nipples between his teeth. 

He dragged the point of his canines along the sensitive bud, applying just enough pressure to drag out that sinful sound from your throat before dragging his tongue across its surface and switching to the other one to give it the same treatment. 

Your hands reached behind him, grabbing the back of the couch for balance as you slammed your hips into his, calling out his name. The steady rhythm  you'd created started to fall apart the closer you got to your second orgasm, losing yourself in him. He reached down, grabbing the flesh of your ass, helping you bounce and keeping the rhythm you'd started to lose, making you land harder and harder each time. 

"Oh - you gonna - fuck - fill me up, guapo? Hm?" You ask, taking the lobe of his ear between your teeth and dragging. "Gonna give me what I want?" 

Your words tightened the band in his stomach - he was so close to snapping, but he needed you to fall first. "Give me one more?" He asked, sucking on the delicious spot on your neck. "Just one more. One more." 

You nodded into his neck, your moans growing louder as your nails slid down his chest. 

"One more, diosa, and I'll give you everything I have," he groaned, "Let go, let me have it." 

Your body tensed over his, your pussy squeezing around his cock, making him groan as he planted his feet on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him as he thrusted up, fucking your through your release while chasing his own. 

"That's it," He grunted, "my turn yeah?" 

"Pleasepleaseplease," You whispered into his ear, gasping when he buried himself deep and let go, giving you all of his spend. 

He clutched you to him, squeezing all the breath out of your lungs as his orgasm racked through his body, burying his mouth into your neck as he shouted. 

You two stayed there for a moment, catching your breath as he traced patterns over your back. 

"You're not staying are you?" Came the whisper of your voice as you ran your fingertips over the hair on his chest, the words dragging his heart under the floorboards. 

He wanted to stay, he really did. He loved being here with you, the only worry in the world being how to make you fall apart again. But he didn't belong here. 

He didn't deserve to be here. Didn’t deserve to have you. 

Not after what he'd done. 

"You know I can't." He muttered back, the sternness coming back into his voice. You were still for a moment, your hands no longer moving back and forth along his skin. 

“Well,” you started, lifting your head from its place in his neck, looking at him with the tiniest amount of hope in your eyes, “Do you have time for a shower?” 

He sighed, reaching up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. 

“I have time,” he muttered, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. “As long as I get to fuck you again.” 

You smirked into his lips with a giggle, “Let’s go then.”

You stood, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to your shower. Jessica and Lyla may question where he was or why he turned his tracker off, but stealing just another moment with you would be worth it. 

It always was. 

As always, thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are all appreciated!

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Translations: 

diosa - goddess

hermosa - beautiful

papi - daddy

guapo - handsome

Te necesito - I need you

no mames  - holy shit 

Muñeca - doll

[feyhunter78]

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

Ch 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since we started hiring pretty boys.”

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

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

“That poor woman.”

“Hey fuck you, y/n,” Dave sputters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lqtusxtearz]

Some scenerio in my mind that rent-free.

ʚ♡

Consider yourself the Black cat of his cosmos. And since he's strict or whatever, you always taunt him. You enjoy how frustrated he becomes; he looks so good when he does it. You enjoy stealing kisses from him, which irritates him in a nice way.

ʚ♡ɞ

If you were his AI, you would constantly remind him to eat and care for himself since he is too busy working to care for the universe. You'd also perch on his shoulder and watch him work while cracking a snide remark around him to lighten the situation. You despise being screamed at, and when he does, you always hide in the corner of the room, and when he realizes his error, he always apologizes to you. When your code is compromised, he shuts you down. He cannot fix it due to the risk of losing your codes, but he is always attempting to fix your code so that you may be online.

ʚ♡ɞ

Imagine you're his wife. You make his and your daughter's favorite dishes every time. You appreciate seeing people happy, which motivates you to prepare. Miguel looks up to you and your daughter when you take her to the soccer field to play with her friends. You sobbed that night after learning you had pleural cancer, but Miguel always asked, "What's wrong?" and you always said you were alright. You informed him about pleural cancer the next morning at the dinner table and with your daughter at school, emphasizing that it is incurable. You talk and soothe each other, and you tell him Gabriella isn't required to know. and you spend all of your time with your daughter till you die. You apologized to her for failing to inform her of your condition. You really don't want your daughter to be overly concerned about you. You finished by telling her how you met her father and how you two went on dates. You recounted all those amazing stories till your life on the monitor became straight.

[ever-fics]

Miguel O’Hara X Reader

Sfw Before ATSV (Fluff and Angst.)

Miguel … Detests this place Y/N’s Grave but still true to his word…He visits

Miguel remembers the Night it happened He remembers he was still considering which school he would attend.The night he lost Y/N his brother Gabriels childhood bestfriend but in truth Y/N was both of the Brothers bestfriends.

“Five minutes O’hara’s and I will be back with the best Taki’s either of you have ever tasted.”

But Y/N didn’t return with the Taki’s. Y/N didn’t return at all.

•After that night Both Miguel and Gabriel had heard it all…

Freak Accident,wrong place wrong time,somebody even had the nerve to call it fate.

•The Last one Is what broke Gabriel O’Hara… who tearfully confesses that when he went out to look for Y/N… she was still alive Taki’s in hand but it happened so Quick…

“Gabriel Run!”*is all they say as they push the younger O Hara out of the way and take the fatal hit themselves…

*Miguel Tried to forgive Gabriel he did he tried but Gabriel stolen the only person Miguel ever truly loved…And sometimes that resentment would come to the surface…

•Xina is the first person Miguel meets at school who defends him from everyone else When Miguel asks why… The answer was simple I recognized your name… My best friend used to talk about you they were called Y/N. *Miguels eyes go wide with that and in some weird attempt to hold on to what he lost he latches on to Xina.

•When he got older his resentment for Gabriel boiled over Gabriel stole the love of his life so Miguel would return the favor…. So he does cheating on Xina with Dana…

All in some weird way because of loosing y/n

•None of those things brings back the dead though. So Miguel keeps his promise a bag of Taki’s and some flowers every year on the anniversary of when… of when he lost them..Its a ritual Miguel couldnt save them so he would at least remember them…

•Until decades later when he finds multiple universes finds it…. Finds them … and finds Y/N Alive…. His Y/N with his Last name… his house … his Y/N with him..

That in and of itself was everything he could have asked for… but when he sees the little girl ,his little girl

Its over

When he hears his daughters name for the first time he cant help but chuckle… because in this universe he doesn’t resent Gabriel for taking Y/N from him… he Owes Gabriel for introducing him to the love of his life…

So his daughter Gabriella her name made perfect sense…

Too bad that world wasn’t his… it belonged to the other him but Miguel was happy to just watch…

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

(Part 2 FINALE)

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Synopsis: Miguel had left Y/N for another version of his old wife in hopes of getting his old life back. To only realize the mistakes he’s made.

Link to Part 1

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!reader

Warnings: very heavy mental health, ANGST LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, ALL OF THIS IS ANGST, mentions of death/almost dying, long term establish relationship, cheating, swearing, therapy, physical fight, blood, feral protective miguel?

—

A/N: hello again! this one is more heartbreaking and longer than the first part oof… Very low dialog up until closer towards the end! wanted to just get through telling the story itself and the emotions. It’s just a very heavy storyline!! I want to say thank you so so much for showing so much support for part 1 i had no idea it would receive that much attention :O !! i wrote this out kinda fast as i didn’t want to loose the momentum of the idea. so apologies for any mistakes! all feedback is greatly appreciated ~

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You used to make Miguel coffee everyday, with one cream two sugars, and he would nag about how he hated the taste. It was to your liking, not his. As you would sneakily take sips out of his mug while working next to him. Why didn’t you just get your own coffee? You claimed you could never finish it and just wanted a taste out of his. Miguel would roll his eyes at you every time he caught you but he adored it. He had secretly grown to love the way you made it and had become his only way of making coffee after meeting you.

Now as this version of his older wife made it the way he is suppose to like coffee, bland and straight, he found himself bothered by it. Going as far to correct her even though this was what he had been claiming to have missed so much. He was now seeing himself teaching someone else how to love him like you did…

He was only a shell of the man he was when he had Gabriella. Even though the copy of his old wife has her same personality, the relationship couldn’t be exactly how it was before because he had changed so much. You had helped him become whole again. His tastes and likings had all switched to everything about you. The charm he found in his old wife doesn’t hold a light to you now and he was getting frustrated. He had wanted this so badly. He felt like those babies who whine and cry wanting to eat a lemon and once they get their way they realize the sour truth.

Miguel never truly realized what it was like to loose you until three weeks after he told you the truth. Over the years the idea of losing you terrified him but he only ever thought of it being in death. He never considered separation when everything was perfect for both of you then. There were times he believed that you were made just for him and he treated you like his queen. Which you truly were to him in his spider society. Why would he ever throw that away? Look at what he did.

He gave himself every excuse in the book before you knew he was cheating on you. ‘This is only for research.’ he would think every time he found himself back in that universe. As everyone knew he was so serious about his work, obviously this is just him getting to know more about certain universes and canons. Lyla was the only one seeing straight through him knowing where he was actually going. Things kept tumbling and the more he found out about the place and spent time with her the more his grief and yearning returned. It was all just there, so reachable.

There was a time his mind tried to snap him back out of it while cheating on you and made him realize the guilt. The first time he kissed this woman you were there in his mind. He came home right after and held you without saying a word. You never questioned him, just showed him comfort as much as you could. Lightly stroking his back, you never over stepped or pushed him when he was vulnerable with you. He only closed his eyes and held onto you tighter processing how you were always too good for him. He was converting to living two different lives; his old self during the day and then coming home to you. He didn’t want to let go of either at the time.

Once he found out he could safely have Gabriella again was when he became distant with you. The shame of using you for research made him become stoic. He didn’t want to admit how wrong he was treating you. All while you were always being so loyal and trusting towards him. Things were slowly slipping through the cracks and he knew he couldn’t up keep it. He wished he could have had that conversation with you so much differently but it was over. Now he had his old life back, a dream he had his mind set on.

He ignored the shakiness in his hands when he returned to her after letting you go. ‘It’s all for the best.’ is what he would repeat in his mind as a mantra. His new girlfriend truly had no idea who he really was or what his background was. Miguel continued to feed her lies to the point where he even started believing them himself getting too lost in avoiding what he’s done. He believed he was happy as he spent time with her.

When she got too close to finding the truth after finding his wedding ring in one of his pockets, he set her off course from it by revealing his spider identity and taking her to HQ. This was the day that everything felt like it was crashing around him. Being reminded of his marriage, having to face his friends with his new lover, sharing his personal spider life, his work with someone who wasn’t you. He excused himself rushing to an unused office room while his chest was tightening. Pupils dilating as he realized it was his first time having a panic attack.

Nevertheless he continued to push it all aside and act completely normal with his girlfriend. He was feeling your absence the most while working. You had became an extension of him. He had trained you from scratch and you helped him build this society he has now. You knew the ins and outs of everything and fought perfectly alongside him. Now that he was on his own he let his girlfriend be there for him when he got stressed, but there always was a knot in his stomach he never could get rid of.

The more his mental health ate at him late at night the more he considered searching out for you. There was no closure between both of you and he never got to listen to how you feel. What was your opinion on all that happened? Do you hate him?

He wanted to speak with someone so badly but he dug himself in a hole too deep. You were gone, he was lying through his teeth to this poor woman he’s kept for some fantasy, he felt too ashamed to say anything to his friends, he would rather die if all his workers found out how big of a piece of shit he is. Anytime Lyla tried peeping a word that wasn’t work related he would snap. He had pushed everyone away and now he just felt alone.

Regardless he would wake up in the morning and swallow all his dark feelings. He would remember his grief of when he lost his family and it would put him back in the moment. He has another chance. He was happy with the direction he was going in now.

Right?

—

The day he found out you were at HQ he felt his heart stop. He was mid mission trying to call for Lyla but she wouldn’t answer. Frustrated he tried looking into what was happening only to see her busy having a conversation with you. It felt like something took over him when he opened a portal in less than a second. Without thinking nor wasting a heartbeat he rushed back. Just a glimpse of you, maybe just to hear a word out of your mouth. The feeling of having you back in HQ was making him ignore all his insecurities. How he would coward at the thought of trying to reach out to you before. You were in his home, your home, and the thought drove him wild.

You were already long gone though. Lyla stared at him not saying a word. The quietness in the room making his ears ring but his thoughts were screaming in his head. He stood there frozen still trying to recollect himself. He was the one that left you, what is wrong with him?

Again he went back and forth in his own head trying to convince himself ‘You wanted this.’ but if he did why is he feeling like someone just killed a puppy in front of him? Why is he here fighting with his self if this is really his dream? Why did he try chasing after you? The wounds of his past grief were too deep. He never took the time to properly heal and now look at what he’s become.

“Miguel, what’s this?” He was startled turning around seeing his girlfriend holidng your watch and skimming through the divorce paperwork addressed to him.

There was no more hiding, no more lying. He swallowed hard even though his throat was dry. He let everything he had kept away rise to surface. It hurt him to see the beautiful face his old wife shared contort into such anger and pain while finding the truth.

She didn’t stay, but for some reason he wasn’t upset. Though he longed for his daughter, he knew it would have never been the same now. He finally closed the door on his past. His heart had made the choice this time but it’s too late. Now grasping onto the divorce papers left by you, emptiness spread through his soul.

—

You on the other hand did not find yourself crying by yourself on a rooftop for long. The shift in the air from your arrival alerted the local spider-man immediately.

“It didn’t work out, did it?” He crouched down next to you as he noticed your watch gone and your missing wedding band.

Peter Parker knew both you and Miguel. Your husband had come to do many rounds of research in this universe when he took you. Eventually offering this Peter a spot in the society, which he politely declined due to just being busy enough here. You both never spoke much but always had an appreciation for each other.

“Do you need a place to crash at?” He continued while trying to get you to look at him. Reaching his hand towards you.

You had absolutely no one and you had been gone so long you couldn’t even go back to the little you had. When you met Miguel you didn’t hesitate to never look back and now it filled you with regret. How naive were you to put all your trust and reliance on him.

You took Peter’s hand. You were ready to start your own life and be your own person now.

—

Peter Parker was nice enough to let you stay with him as long as you needed it. You both had became ‘besties!’ as he would love to poke at you. The first month with him you were a disaster really but he showed you how he liked to cope using his spider abilities.

The first thing he helped you with was getting a new suit. Your old one resembled too much to Miguel’s and you felt suffocated every time you put it on. Peter had taught you to use your current emotional pain on whichever sad little villain was making trouble out in Brooklyn that night.

“Come on, we got multiverse spider-woman helping me keep these streets clean now!” He would taunt at the men while watching you easily take them out a little bit too aggressively. His feet kicking up and down while he sat on the side of a building watching you. The crime rate did go down a bit once word got around how strong your punch was. Peter’s just happy he can now spend some nights to himself.

You got yourself a job at the mart on the corner to help cover bills for Peter and save up. You were grateful enough the owners never batted an eye when you would disappear during a shift to either suddenly go cry uncontrollably or beat the shit out of someone at a nearby robbery. Next thing you were enrolling yourself back in university, wanting to finish that degree you never did.

It wasn’t too long that some of your older spider friends would stop by to check in on you. Seeing them was difficult sometimes, you were internally itching to ask about Miguel. Things were going okay for you on a very slow path of breathing step by step. You never wanted to feel that hurt again and so you very well pretend like Miguel didn’t exist if you could.

You couldn’t ignore the hurt resurfacing when you passed couples on the street. Or when you found yourself going to fidget with your wedding ring just to remember it’s gone. You can’t just move on from a relationship that was so deeply apart of you and lasted so long. You gave everything to him and it will take you much time to get yourself to build trust again.

After two semesters, you finally had your graduation. All the things you learned while in Earth-928 paid off as you barley had to study. Passing top of the class, you immediately got an offer for an internship opportunity with Alchemax and was able to get an introduction tour of the building beforehand.

What you hadn’t realized was that Alchemax had been looking for that girl who snuck into their offices a couple years ago. Who made another dimension’s spider appear and then went missing herself soon after. They had kept as close tabs on you as they could and how foolish you were to think your little break in wouldn’t come back to bite you. The moment you stepped foot back in their building, it was over for you.

—

Miguel had spent a whole year in much deserving therapy. Nothing could stop the embarrassment he felt when Peter B signed him up with HQ’s best spider-therapist after 3 months of constant out bursts. No one could come near the man when he felt like he had lost everything. Those first initial months were difficult for everyone around him.

Therapy did help, he hates to admit it, but it was a very rough ride. He finally was able to understand his deep inner term oil and heal his issues but moving on from you? No, he could never.

You were the only one who had sincerely stood by his side, always rooting for him. He never fell out of love with you despite of everything that he did. He just pushed everything down too deep and was blinded by obsession. Till now he could never deny that he still loves you. Maybe if he just would have went to therapy years ago instead of acting out on unsolved grief none of this would have happened. The guilt always making him toss and turn at night.

He would have big temper tantrums when he would find his coworkers going to visit you time to time and not sharing any details. He needed to know if you’re okay. Did you already move on? He longed to find you and speak with you but he knew he wasn’t ready yet. He was so self destructive and this was what he deserved.

Everyone avoided him completely when he overheard someone saying you were living with Peter Parker. Fighting crime with him and having a cute little home life. Peter followed you around now like a puppy. Miguel did not take the news well at all. Let’s just say, the large bill replacement for his monitor screens was what snapped him out of that rage.

He also wanted to strangle Hobie Brown every time he saw a glint in his eye when your name was mentioned around. Yet Miguel couldn’t hate the kid either, as Hobie was one of the people to try help repair the damage he did to you. How badly he just wanted to hold you and shield you in his arms from any other people taking you from him as if he wasn’t the idiot to let you go in the first place.

Everyone’s big, powerful, scary boss was really just a grumpy, wallowing-in-self-pity, sensitive, lonely man now. Mention your name too much to him and watch him start crying or take it out on whatever he could find nearest to him. He would some nights scroll through your wedding photos while listening to your last tracked log with Lyla. Your words cutting through him deep like long sharp knives. How he urged to go tell you it was all wrong and how guilty he was for making you feel like this.

Despite it all, he still believed in being the best of the best. He used his work to distract himself from his sorrows, to become numb. Even though his divorce paperwork were set next to him on his desk to remind him the pain. He never signed it.

—

“We can’t tell him!” Jessica gritted through her teeth. Small group of spider-people were hovered around Lyla taking in the new found information.

“Her canon events have always been uncertain, we can’t just stop and fix this one?” Gwen Stacy suggested in hopes.

“We have never prevented a canon event of hers or the people involved in it. It could be even more dangerous than a regular canon.” Peter B spoke grimly.

“When ‘as danger ever stopped us?” Hobie spoke up.

“Everyone get your gear.” Lyla added to the stress of the situation.

—

You couldn’t open your eyes properly with a strong blinding light being held above you. Arms and legs secured on top of a metal surgical table. You could feel the warmth of blood scattered on certain parts of your body, slowly starting to dry. It was a mix of yours and the people you had tried fighting through to get out of here when you realize the trap you were reeled into. Different people in lab coats poked and pried all around you while you were tied. Your mask was thrown on another table and your suit had large gashes across it.

Soon you also could feel the presence of Peter Parker being brought to the room, thrown slumped in the corner breathing heavily. They had gotten you too good. They knew everything and had planned this so detailed.

“Now you’re going to help me open the multiverse.” Kingpin loomed around you. All you could feel was searing pain as a laser aimed right at your chest.

—

Miguel was already staring out the window to the glowing night lights of Nueva York when he saw a big hole appear in sight of the skyline. His eyebrows furrowed while he was trying to process what he was looking at. It wasn’t a second later when all alarms started going off in his office.

“Qué carajos?” He exclaimed seeing the alerts of a possible universe collapse. “Lyla! Why wasn’t this being taken care of already?”

“I already sent people.”

“Then what are they doing?” He yelled. His confusion and anger only furthered when he saw a red alarm for a canon event.

“Canon event?” He whispered to himself. He always knew when these were happening, there were none scheduled for today. There was no way he would let one passed him, it’s not like this could magically appear? His jaw dropped in realization… a new canon event.

“Lyla, tell me the truth. Why wasn’t this reported to me?” He made the atmosphere turn cold. She knew he already figured it out.

“A new canon event was received this morning being given to Peter Parker. Of Y/N L/N’s death.” The words from Lyla made Miguel’s body go still. His eyes raced side to side while he processed it.

“No!” He roared, a fist slamming into the nearby desk. His massive strength breaking it in half.

“Boss, you can’t go on this mission only using your emotions.” Lyla warned. However Miguel was already half way stepping through a portal to find you.

He appeared, watching his team struggle to shut down the machine causing the collapse. Outnumbered by the amount of Alchemax puppets. A different kind of rage filled him as he saw you, for the first time in a year, suffering. Miguel was never one to act reckless while on missions but he had no plan here and just ran off the pure adrenaline the fight or flight had hit him with.

His claws tore into the backs of his enemies as he jumped beast-like across the room. Not hesitating spilling blood across the wall while he took everyone down as fast as he could. His team could only watch wide eye with an unsettling fear as they saw Miguel lose himself to his spider sense. While he fought they took the opportunity to take apart the machine.

Miguel was panting heavily, pupils blown wide glowing red, and fangs dripping with venom as the room slowly silenced. Kingpin laid on the floor slowly trying to drag himself after being beaten to a pulp. It was over. Peter B stopped him from doing anything further. Knowing Miguel would kill the man, Peter B let the team finish up to give Kingpin to authorities. Miguel turned frantically to look at you seeing the other spiders step away. Peter Parker was hunched over you in tears. Miguel fought the urge to snap at Peter and grab his hands off of you.

Your vision was too blurry and everything felt like it was burning. A shape that seemed too familiar came into your peripheral vision and you tried to push yourself up.

“Miguel?” Was the last thing you croaked before slumping back passing out. Miguel catching you in his arms before you could hurt yourself further.

“It’s her time.” Jessica spoke behind him. Yet he was refusing to let go. He had never defied the way the timeline worked since he created his society. He would never break the rules and you both had promised each other before not to. If there was a situation like this you both agreed to save the universe first. How stupid was he to think he would listen to that now facing it in-front of him.

He never got to tell you what happened. He never got to apologize. He never got to tell you one more time that he loved you. Even if you in result just spat in his face, at least he was able to talk to you one more time. You were never a placeholder or someone to fill a hole in his heart. His whole heart belonged to you and he couldn’t let you go thinking you didn’t mean anything to him. No matter the consequences, he needed to tell you.

“Call all the teams to control the damage of a possible universe collapse.” He turned to Jess with Y/N tightly in his arms. The spider-people watched speechless as he opened a portal and disappeared.

—

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—

Two weeks you laid motionless in the HQ’s medbay.

The clean up after breaking the canon was a little intense. They were able to get it under control as the event started to fade from your timeline once you were returned and starting to heal in Earth-928.

The spider society would remain silent near the medbay. The lights always being dimmed and hushed whispers between staff to not bother the distressed O’Hara. He refused to leave.

Your Peter Parker had now joined the team, much to Miguel’s dismay. Everyday your friends would come in and check to see how you were. Some telling stories about their day or any gossip updates you missed, in hopes that it would get you to wake up. They would ignore the gloomy Miguel who was basically glued to the seat next to you not saying a word to anyone.

At night Miguel would play with your fingers and softly stroke your hair all while pleading “Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me. Por favor mi alma.” He knew it wasn’t his place to beg this after what he did, but he didn’t mind the words falling on deaf ears.

Miguel hadn’t eaten in days, he felt too nauseous from anxiety to even try anything. Pavitr had done the favor to bring you and Miguel’s favorite empanadas from a small street vendor downtown. Hoping to get Miguel to at least try the food before he ended up in a hospital bed next to you due to starvation.

You started to blink open your eyes, spots surrounding your vision. You could hear a soft breathing to your right side and you slowly felt your sense come back one by one. It felt like you just had a really rough nap.

“Oh my god that smells so good.” You moaned, sitting yourself up to try to look at where the smell of food was coming from.

You were met with a wide eyed Miguel holding a box of empanadas. His jaw slacked open acting as if he’s seen a ghost looking at you. Confusion hit you first for a second and then you start to panic.

Why was he here? Why was your ex-husband sitting right here? You started to push away from him and Miguel caught on to your panic.

“No, no, no mi amor stop.” He tried calming you. “You’re hurt, you’re going to open your stitches.”

You suddenly remembered everything that happened right before you blacked out. At that moment you forgot the hurt you had towards your ex-lover. Gathering yourself you just stared at him. “I’m suppose to be dead.”

Tears rimmed your eyes. Why did it feel like life just hated you so much?

Miguel engulfed you in his arms as you started to cry. You didn’t care right now. You had ached for this feeling again, so alone, with the comfort Miguel used to bring you. Just for a moment you could pretend like how it was before.

“We can’t do this Miguel.”

He knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to let you leave his arms yet, as he let his self hold harder and push your head closer into his the crook of his shoulder. The tickle of your breath on his neck, he just wanted this forever.

“She left. Almost a year ago.” He let out to you. A big weight coming off of his chest. You pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes while you watched him avoid your gaze. You felt bad to say you could feel a bit of satisfaction bubbling in you.

“Good, she deserved better.”

“So did you.” Miguel sighed playing with his hands. Your eyes widened when you saw the ring still on his finger. He let you stare. “I-I could never. I couldn’t.” The emotions struggle to come out of his mouth. You understood him though. You always did. Placing your hand on top of his you just nodded.

“Please stay here.” He whispered.

Miguel had broken you in so many ways. Yet he almost ruined another universe just to keep you alive. You both needed time to talk and coming out a coma right now isn’t good timing.

“I finally became my own person when I went back in my universe. I enjoyed my independence.” The words pelleted at him. He could only hold his breath as he waited for you to continue. “I’ll stay… but not for you.”

It wounded him deeply; but he deserved it. This place will always be a home for you even if he wasn’t apart of it. Before he can tear his gaze and turn away, you reached out to hold his face close to yours. Your fingers gently rubbing on his cheeks as you slowly look at him properly after so long. You let your thumb smooth over his frown lines and he leaned into your touch closing his eyes.

“Let’s give us time.” Was the words you blessed that opened every door of hope he could find. He would take it, he would absolutely take it. He has to fight for you, he has to prove to you. He would do anything but for now he’ll be on his best patiently waiting for you.

Both of you sat comfortably without speaking, only the faint background beeps of the hospital monitor making up for the silence, while passing small glances. For once both of you felt a missing warmth you didn’t realize you needed. Sharing empanadas with each other, just maybe it will be alright…

—————————————————

The end!!! Thank you so so much for your time in reading my story. i really really was so happy with all the comments and feedback on pt 1 it really meant a lot!!!

i hope this was ok ~ i apologize for how long it was i was thinking of doing another part but just wanted to finish this up. I was in such a conflict how to end this. i hope it wasn’t too cliche or anything i’m just a sucker for very wanty needy dramatic stories. It’s a hopeful ending tho~ i couldn’t pick with just happy or sad.

So many of you had tons of amazing suggestions which I appreciated so much. I was such a mess trying to figure it all out. Many of you wanted to see Y/N move on with another person but I ended up going this route. I used Peter Parker as an obv character in y/n’s universe but it’s not tied to any specific one and you guy can think of him more to your liking if you want to!

If any of you would like a small drabble or imagine of another route of this story or just anything angsty/possessive and rarwrarwbarkbark miguel. I’d be glad to help lol!! My request box is wide open~ i had so much fun writing this!

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@hoseokslefteyebrow @sleepyamaya @typicalife-101 @jenniferdixon05207 @geraskier-thots @nuttyrebelflower @youcantseem3 @ihateuguys @archangel1206 @southprw

[lacedinweb22]

possessive *ੈ❦︎‧ Miguel O'Hara boyfriend headcanons nsfw 18+

❦︎ Miguel has Lyla track your location 24/7 (practically spying on you), giving him updates every time you move locations, making sure you’re not alone or in danger zones, and if you are, he’ll show up to scold and pick you up.

❦︎ He’ll be focused on work then suddenly demand, “Lyla, update on Y/N,” eyebrows furrowed, never breaking the concentrated look on his face, to which Lyla will pop up, giggling to herself; she’ll tell you about it later, and tease him in front of you. 

❦︎ When you’re on your phone for a while, he lingers, watching what pictures you like or who you follow, secretly judging or resisting the urge to passive-aggressively comment on someone he suspects wants you. He pretends he’s not watching you, but he’s glancing between your screen and his hologram screen. 

❦︎ He trusts you … but he does look through your phone if you leave it lying around. You’ve told him you don’t care, you have nothing to hide, but it’s in his nature. He also asks Lyla to check the recent people you’ve texted or called, which she refuses, then he overrides. 

❦︎ He hates the stares you get when outside, makes his blood boil, though most men are too intimidated to look your way once they see Miguel. However, when you're at a cash register or any situation where you might interact with a creep, he'll stand in front of you. He'd much rather deal with strangers than let you. You cling to his forearm, as he blocks you, and he'll confront or give them a hell of an attitude for looking your way.

❦︎ After you tell him about a coworker’s advances towards you at work, he’s extra needy. He follows you around the apartment more, wraps his arms around you as you cook (nothing too abnormal), and inhales your scent; he could never lose his perfect girl. You’ll reassure him, and when things heat up later that night, he’ll let you know in hungry growls, that you’re his and his only. He digs his face into your neck and whimpers your name when he finishes inside of you, claiming you as his. You can't blame him; he just wants you to be his. The hickeys spread across your body, the claw marks across your ass— he’ll always get his point across. 

[theorphicangel]

it feels like the whole world has stopped.

that's how you'd describe your mornings with miguel. gentle and soft caresses awakes you. the heated room of your shared bedroom welcomes you to another autumn day. the november clouds hang heavy over nueva york, almost like a blanket offering comfort to the busy people of the city below.

soft whispers of 'good morning' and lingering kisses. you can taste the peppermint toothpaste on his lips as he kisses you. with every contact you awake, one planted on your lips, the tips of your nose and finally your forehead.

neither of you have any specific commitment this morning, meaning that there's no rush to leave the comfort of your apartment.

tired limbs force themselves to pad across the room to the bathroom with miguel lingering by your side as you brush your teeth, hands wrapped around your waist. 'beautiful' he murmurs into your ear, staring at the two of you in the bathroom mirror. dressed in nothing but his t-shirt.

slow footsteps dance from the bathroom to the kitchen. just like every other morning you take your usual seat at the counter watching.

'like a cat' you recall him saying, 'always hungry to eat'

'you or the food?' you joked once, not missing the way the tips of his ears flushed pink.

with eggs frying and buttered toast on the matching plates you had bought from the local market, miguel stands between your thighs. from your position you can now see his caramelised eyes clearer. without another word, the two of you lean into a shared kiss.

intimate. the silent acknowledgement of your appreciation for each other. the taste of his lips are nothing but familiar, a craving your tongue will never get sick of.

you hope to relive this very morning tomorrow and many more days after that.

and you will. tomorrow.

reblogs are much appreciated!! thank you for reading ! :)

[miggyyyyohara]

Its so fucking perfect.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

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

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[hexeyduh]

Where you go, Miguel?

[milequaritchsslut]

thigh riding and miguel. goodnight.

Warnings: Smut, thigh riding, kissing, orgasm (f), pet names

‘Yeah just like that pretty girl’ he cooed, hands guiding your hips to move back and forth endlessly and without thought.

‘M-mm Miguel’ you whined out, hands gripping his waist as your pleasure drowned out any thoughts trying to barge in. Your slick covered the length of his thick thigh, sloppy and wet sounds filling the room as he smirked down at you.

He watched you with loving eyes, his only goal at the moment to make you finish. Planting small kisses down your neck and jawline, small whimpers and whines coming out of you instead of simple words. You could feel your orgasm pooling in your stomach—waiting patiently to burst out and make a mess all over your boyfriend. His thigh was so perfect for you, so hard and easy to move on.

Saying you felt good was an understatement, you were engulfed by your pleasure—unable to form thoughts from the ravenous pace he was helping you set. You could see his cock bulging through his suit, begging to be touched and played with.

‘C’mon baby—cum for me’ he whispered into your ear. It was like something snapped inside you, and you finally let go. Your back arching as your nails dug into his suit and you gushed all over him. A loud gasp escaping your lips as your orgasm fell over you and onto him. He smiled at you, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling into your shoulder as you panted into his ear

‘Your such a good girl mami’

Taglist: @jennieskimichi @addictiontowardstheinternet @rawegggohan @raaaaainn @horror-cassettes @adrunkskeletonsduck @nejirehh @222a1yssa @beiroviski i @lana-4life @ladyfairenvale @emmalandry @a-trash-person

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 31

Description: Miguel and Gabi have a little discussion, Miguel gathers info on your mother.

Pt 32 here!!!

"Papá?” Gabi’s voice is soft, hesitant, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the nightlight in the hall.

Miguel looks up from his computer, shoulders heavy, eyes burning from the harsh blue light of the three strategically placed screens.

Gabi is lingering in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, Oso under her other arm.

“Yes, mija?” He pushes back from his desk, chair wheels rolling smoothly over the rug as he turns his body towards her, his free hand minimizing his open tabs.

She shuffles in, mindful of staying away from any computer equipment, until she curls up in his lap, resting her head on his chest. “Why was Abuela being mean to Mamá?”

Miguel wraps his arms around her, silently cursing himself for not thinking about how she might’ve inherited his enhanced senses. “What do you mean?”

“She wouldn’t let Mamá go shopping with us, and then she said she was going to plan my quince, but I want you and Mamá to do that.” Gabi says, dropping her chin atop Oso’s fuzzy head.

“Your abuela is just having a hard time accepting Ms. y/n over your mother.” He says carefully.

“Why?”

Miguel says nothing for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. “Because she loved your mother very much, and she doesn’t like the idea of losing people.”

“Like Tio Gabriel?” Gabi asks quietly.

A wave of grief washes over him. He misses his brother desperately, even when they were at odds with each other they were still brothers. This universe his brother died long before Gabi was born, and his mother could never quite get over it. She clung to anyone new who came into his life, attempting to force them to fill the hole Gabriel left behind. Ava seemed to fit the mold for his mother, well enough that she was willing to put him and his family in peril for the chance to reconnect with her.

He was aware his mother loved his brother more; Gabriel was a shining, golden thing. The example of the perfect son, the one who didn’t come from an affair, who looked enough like the man Miguel called father for most of his life that no one questioned him. Miguel didn’t hate his brother, he never could, but he resented him for leaving him alone with their mother, for caving time and time again in every universe. He loved him deeply, protected him, counseled him, cried with him, cried for him at his funeral, he carried a part of Gabriel with him everywhere he went. They were of the same blood, he would never truly lose that part of his brother, and that was enough for him.

“Yes, like Tio Gabriel.” His voice falters for a moment, and he clears his throat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for her to be mean to your mamá.”

“Is Mamá okay? I thought I heard her yelling while Uncle Brett was taking me back to the sheep.”

Miguel chuckles. “Your mamá was just very passionately defending us, that’s all. She’s okay.”

She nods and snuggles closer to him. “I don’t want to go shopping with Abuela if Mamá can’t come.”

“You don’t have to go shopping with your abuela for any reason if you don’t want to.” He reassures her.

“Okay…” Gabi says, stroking Oso’s ears.

“Is there something else bothering you?”

Gabi sticks out her bottom lip in a puppy dog pout. “I wish Nanna Nancy was my only grandma. She really likes Mamá. Why can’t Nana Nancy, Auntie Mon and Uncle Brett be our only family? Everyone else is mean.”

If Monica were here, she’d been over the moon at Gabi’s words.

He chuckles. “The only other family that’s here is your abuela.”

“And mom.”

“You don’t have to worry about her, she’s not going to bother us anymore.”

“Okay good.” Gabi huffs. “Now, if Abuela would stop being mean, everything would be perfect.”

He loves how simple some solutions seem to her, how if just one person would change, everything would fall into place. He wishes that were true.

“If only she would stop being so mean.” He echoes.

They stay up for a while longer talking, until sleep finally overtakes her, and he carries her back to her bed, gently tucking her in before slipping back into his office and locking the door behind him.

“Lyla?” He calls out, bringing all his tabs back up.

She flits into existence, heart-shaped sunglasses pushed up on her head. “It’s like two AM, why are you even awake? Don’t you have a fiancée to join in bed?” She teases, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn.

“She’s asleep. Now find me everything you can on Tiffany Robins.”

“Thinking about your next victim?” Lyla drawls, scrolling through her superhighway of information.

“Thinking about ensuring my fiancée is happy.” He replies, skimming the information as she flicks it onto his computers.

“Okay Ms. Tiffany Robins, lives in Nueva York, divorced, two children, y/n, and Leon, never been remarried, a lot of custody issues, a restraining order requested by Mrs. Rosaline Y/L/N, high level official at Serenity and Wellness, a company that sells wellness products, and self-help programs. It’s pretty successful, but they definitely don’t believe what they’re selling.”

“Can you get me her phone records?”

She gives him a pointed look.

“Please?”

“Already done.” She says, a Cheshire Cat grin tugging at her lips.

Tiffany: Y/N let’s get together soon; I want to make up for all the pain I’ve caused you.

Y/N: You said that last time.

Tiffany: Don’t be so stubborn, I’ve been seeing someone, and it’s really been helping.

Y/N: I don’t know, I’m really busy with work.

Tiffany: You can’t make time for your mother? I gave you life, and this is the thanks I get?

Y/N: Ok, ok, I’ll think about it.

Tiffany: I’ll be on your side of town in a few weeks, I’ll let you know when I’m there, we can meet then.

Y/N: I said I’d think about it.

Tiffany: I’ll make sure it’s not during school hours don’t worry, now I’ve got to go, I have a meeting to get to.

Miguel massages his temples. Obviously, your mother still believes she’s owed access to you, that she’s still in control of you.

There’s a call logged, from this morning, while he and Gabi were out getting donuts.

“Y/N I need to push back our meeting, I have to meet with a potential client that day, can you do a Wednesday instead?” Your mother’s voice is smooth, pleasant, and controlled.

“I can’t, I work on weekdays, I’m a teacher, remember?”

“Just put on a movie for them or something, I doubt it’ll be much different from your normal teaching.”

Miguel hears your voice tighten, can feel your hackles rising through the audio.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my—saints above y/n, you’re so sensitive. I just mean that…well we both know how you struggled in school, and I mean they’re still so young, I doubt they’re really learning anything.”

“The only thing I struggled with was math, but I doubt you’d even know that considering you weren’t allowed in my life while I was in school.”

“That wasn’t my fault, it was your father and his whore, they stole you and your brother from me.” Tiffany complains, a hint of hysteria in her voice.

He can only imagine the rage flowing through you at Tiffany’s words.

“She’s not a whore.” You snap.

“You just can’t see it; you’re blinded by it all. But don’t worry, I know one day you’ll wake up and see that she’s not your real mother, and she’ll never be.”

His stomach drops.

“You’re not her mother, and you never will be.”

His mother had unknowingly repeated the words said to you about your own mother.

“You’re such a bitch.” You hiss, venom dripping from your every word.

“Me? You’re just a spoiled brat who abandoned her mother.”

“Aband—you know what? I’m not doing this with you, not today, not now. Goodbye, Tiffany.”

The call ends and Miguel continues to scroll through your mother’s information, a plan formulating in his mind.

Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars TL 2: @sxnasbitch, @111gltzpzy, @lucilavenxoxo, @ray-rook, @elizamelody, @soapbar99, @trashieboii, @erissco, @gardenof-venus, @vlads-dracula3, @yaoisenpaiii, @the-occasional-artist1125, @polireader, @mvchmp, @shadowxfheaven, @weirdothatwritess, @ash-aragami, @angelarcheangel, @nekotaetae, @namjooningera, @hana-1235, @amberpanda99, @joceymoo, @tfamidoingwithmylife, @itsashree, @battinsonwhore05, @namjooningera, @tortilla-chips-and-allioli, @fluffy-koalala, @fandom-ash, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @latersgaters-steven, @ariparri, @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast, @lycaninelizard, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @allysunny, @lollipopin, @allysunny, @loves0phelia, @tayleighuh, @namtaeh, @comeonatmebruh, @jacejawp, @cowboylikeevie

[whereireid]

˚ · . 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓

୭ 🧷 ✧ 𝟑,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miguel o’hara × fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unestablished relationship. nsfw content: smut, p in v, heats, breeding.

“That’s it,” Miguel praises, his teeth softly grazing your neck, his eyes fluttering shut in appreciation as you mewl, attempting to get closer to you. “Come on, dulce niña, milk me like I know you can.”

Strong hands grip your hips, urging you to continue. Miguel beckons you closer, his teeth scraping your pulse point, his softly, bristly hair brushing against your slick folds which each desperate rut of your hips. He’s making you work for it — of course he is, because you’re the one that’s in heat. He’s not your boyfriend, and he’s not your lover; simply put, he’s just somebody whose more than eager to help you with your needs.

“Miguel, please,” you breathe, your slick painting his cock white, your ring of arousal glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. The curve of your ass slaps against his hips as you continue to bounce again him, your mound of your ass jiggling as you rut, growing closer and closer to your orgasm. “Please cum inside of me.”

The heat inside of you blazes like an inferno. It’s not enough — it never is, and yet it’s all you’re allowed. You need him to breed you, the fire inside of you only dulled by him, and you tremble as you await his response.

A smirk paints his lips. His fangs pierce your skin, his eyes glazing over with his own form of lust as he snarls out, “how could I say no to such a sweet girl when she’s in heat?”

The squelching sounds of your cunt echo throughout the bedroom; a soft mewl slipping past your lips. Miguel allows you to continue bouncing — and without warning he finishes, as your walls flutter and clench down around him.

[ever-fics]

Miguel O’Hara X Reader PT2

Sfw fluff/Angst

2099 Miguel is done for when Miguel ,regular Miguel, Y/N’s Miguel dies…. He tries to avoid it but he cant

Why? Simply because he knew whet it was to loose Y/N and he wasn’t about to let Y/N go through that same grief loosing him.

And he especially wasn’t going to let his daughter have to mourn her father … not when in his timeline he is alone hurt and resentful…. He knows he would be happy here and so would his family. Especially if they never knew what they’d lost.

As soon as Miguel steps into what he knew to be his … his other-selves… home and he sees his Y/N for the first time… Really sees them after all this time. He starts crying when he realizes … this, this is actually real. Everything he ever wanted … needed. Every feeling he had learned to bury for duty and to be spiderman to be alone…. He didn’t need to burry it anymore so it was all just back … his heart came back with y/n of course it did… loosing y/n washow he…lost it in the first place.

So when Y/N Asks Miguel if he’s okay… not knowing their Miguel had passed… Miguel isn’t sure what to say but answers honestly.

“Im Fine. It’s just seeing you in front of me… after so long without you. I never thought Id get to see you again… not even once. This means everything to me.” Miguel chokes out to a confused Y/N.

“Miguel what do you mean I just saw you this morning are you sure your okay.” Y/N is worried

“Im okay we are both here together now.” Miguel replies

“As long as you are alright.” Y/N replies caressing his cheek.

“This might seem silly but I missed talking to you so much… To be able to talk to you… I took it for granted.”Miguel smiles with all the decades of love stored … repressed that Miguel hadn’t been able to give Y/N.

Seeing Gabriella up close … that … that is the second he honestly believed he found heaven.

“Gabriella O’Hara.” Y/N calls in a sing songy way.

“WHAT?” Gabriella replies

“Ven Aqui Bebé.” *Y/N calls.

Miguel just gives Gabriella the biggest hug… shocked for a moment that she is real… For a moment he chuckles because he notices she had picked up on some of the faces Y/N makes out of habbit…

At first he is so afraid to touch Y/N or Gabriella afraid of breaking them like glass

Miguel smiles as he sees his spouse step out of the bathroom … in…. the version of them that got to grow up still liked soccer …

“Miguel … You got it into Gabriella’s head she can best our record….” *Y/N shakes their head and smirks.* “Ive got to go help her practice…. You can come too… but I know your probably scared deep down O’hara.” *Y/N teases.*

Again Miguel got everything he wanted …. Until he lost it all again lost Y/N again…. But more than that his selfishness cost…. Cost their Gabriella…

However Miguel wasn’t going to let loosing Y/N be something that didn’t get justice not this time…And Miguel’s Gabriella wouldn’t be lost without reason. So Miguel … well Miguel wasn’t doing well not without Y/N …. He needed the more outgoing parts of their personality to contrast his so he works on Lyla an AI that … he gives all the best personality traits of Y/N because he cant do this alone…

Miguel finds an odd peace in the purpose the defense of the multiverse … the protection and the memory of his family…

This peace goes out the window when Jess finds you and quickly befriends you brining you to the spider-society … To Well At first Jess asks Lyla to tell Miguel that Jess brought a new recruit …. Lyla who knows Y/N’s face all too well pretends to glitch to malfunction … Jess had never seen her do that. So then how would Miguel react

[fortune-fool02]

Run

Miguel O'Hara x Anomaly, female reader

Summary: [Name] had never truly had a reason to fear Miguel, until now.

Warnings: Light spoilers for ATSV, angst, canon violence. Dark?

Word count: 1,351 words

I couldn't help but fall for this man.

Thank you for reading. Please leave feedback and reblog as it really helps. Thank you.

Please enjoy.

My heart pounded in my ears, drumming heavily inside my chest. Weak, pathetic gasps of breath were all my lungs could muster at this moment, straining my muscles on a thin edge of energy, but I had to keep going. Swallowing down what little oxygen I could, I took off running once again.

The power to this place had been cut off, leaving me shrouded in a thick coat of darkness. Shadows shifting and spreading around the walls and floors, spreading their wings like a great crow, reaching out towards me to swallow me whole. Each little sound, each little noise, no matter how soft or distant, shot a fresh wave of fear through my body.

The walls seemed to be closing in on me, bending unnaturally to contain me, like a rat inside an ever-expanding maze, watched by unseen eyes, observed. Every room I moved into began to look more identical to the last to the point I was certain I was running around in bloody circles now.

I knew I took a left this time instead of right. Or was it the other way around?

"Fuck." I softly cursed, looking around frantically to search for any indication of someplace new, some form of escape from this place. The ache in my muscles begged for me to stop and rest, and it was growing more and more tempting for every second that I stood still, but I had to push it aside. I couldn't risk stopping now.

The silence was calming but tense. My ears straining to listen for anything. How had this all gone so wrong so fast? The thought bounced around in my head. They were supposed to be a team, all of us working together as a unit to keep the balance. And now, there was no team. Only those hunting and those being hunted.

A distant sound caught my attention, making the pulse in my veins go silent for a moment. Something sharp scraping along metal, creating that uncomfortable screeching sound that made one want to grit their teeth. An icy coldness filled my body, sapping out any ounce of courage I might have had before.

The sound grew closer and closer, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, and I looked around. A small room stood to the side and I pushed the door open, sliding my body inside and tucking down behind a desk, attempting to make myself as small as possible. Anxiety clashed inside of me, gnawing away at my bones and chewed at my veins like a starved dog as I sat absolutely still.

A soft creak was heard from the hinges of the door as it was pushed open, my heart in my throat. Faint, almost silent footsteps tapped the cold floor, the sound almost deafening in the quiet room. A heavy presence filled the room, choking out any ounce of air out and replacing it with this dense, curshing smoke. I almost couldn't breathe.

The bottom of Miguel's shoes could be seen on the otherside of the desk, he was standing so close that if I breathed a little too loud, he would hear it. I bit down on my lip, trying to silence my breathing and watched his movements carefully.

He stood there, his shadow creeping under the small gap under the desk. Even his shadow alone was intimidating. As if I touched it, he would know I was there. I could feel his eyes behind the wood of the desk, piercing down at me with their vibrant, eerie glow. The eyes of a predator hunting down his prey, his meek, pathetic prey.

Any minute now, he would tear the desk apart and expose my hiding spot and then it was all over for me. It was by some stroke of luck that I had survived this long running from him. Miguel had always seemed like a patient man, but behind that patience, there was something brewing. Stirring under the surface. Waiting for its chance to emerge.

Now, he was almost a different man. Someone I had once trusted to have my back in any situation, someone I sided with through thick and thin.

Slowly, his shoes turned away from the desk and began to walk out of the room. A small breath of relief slipped my lips before it was cut off by a painful sharpness, my body distorting for a brief moment as a violent glitch ran through my body. And his footsteps stopped.

Before I had a chance to move, five talons pierced through the wood of the desk, just missing my head by a hair thread before the desk was thrown across the room, shattering upon impact and throwing splinters outwards.

Miguel stood there, his expression twisted with an anger that made my very nerves tense up. His eyes glowing deeply in the darkness.

"There you are." His voice was dripping with the same venom in his fangs, that could out any snake or spider to shame. A fearful cry left my lips as I tried to crawl backwards, trying to get away from him, but Miguel was faster. He always was.

His foot shot out, striking my chest hard and pinned me to the floor. The weight of it crushing out any air in my lungs.

"M-Mi....guel...." I choked out, trying to squirm under his weight, a fruitless attempt. His body lowered down, his knee replacing his foot which only made it worse. A faint cracking sound was made from my chest, my ribcage straining under him to the point I feared the bones would snap. His eyes pierced into me, deep into my very soul, eyes that I once would gaze deeply into. But now, all I saw was rage.

"All you had to do was listen to me, [Name]." He hissed out, his fangs glimmering in the low light, "And you couldn't even do that." I couldn't help but cower. Of all the enemies I faced in my universe, none of them came close to the fear I felt looking up at Miguel at this moment in time. None of them came close to the threat that he radiated.

"P-Please, I made a mistake, I know that." I forced out, wheezing for air as my lungs began to burn. All I could focus on where those eyes of his. The only spark of colour in the darkness around us. Even like this, there was a beauty to the man, in the same way that a venomous snake held the most beautiful patterns in their scales, or a tiger baring the boldest of stripes on their fur.

Or the most stunning spider holding the most potent venom.

The cold sharpness of his talons brushed along the side of my face, pushing some strands out of the way of my eyes, but the tips of them hovering far too close for comfort to my eyes.

"Then you knew this would be coming." Miguel's talon brushed the corner of my eye, making the muscle around it twitch. "Then you wouldn't have tried to run." A light stinging sensation was felt as the tip of the talon pushed into my skin lightly, just enough to break the skin but not deep enough to draw blood. Slowly, he dragged it along to my cheekbone, an almost thoughtful expression filling his face as if admiring something.

Then, he shifted the movement sharply, cutting open a wound. "Ah!"

His other hand gripped the side of my head, forcing me to keep still and look up at him, and only him. I was completely at his mercy. Until he saw my punishment fit of my so-called 'crime'.

When Miles had made a run for it through the 'Go-Home' machine, I made no attempt to stop him. I let him run right past me when I was more than capable of stopping him. I was the last line of defence, and I let Miles escape. My loyalty might have laid with Miguel, but my sympathy was with Miles. The boy deserved a chance to save his father.

Miguel, clearly, did not see it the same way.

[lacedinweb22]

Intimate ❦︎⊹₊˚ Miguel O’Hara blurb 

nsfw 18+

He's not the type to fuck you mindlessly. He sinks into you. He takes his sweet time. 

He mutters words of importance, beautiful strings of Spanish profanities, complimenting the way your velvet walls surround him. 

His body is heavy, hovering over yours, colliding into yours with every deep thrust. Soft, tan, and scarred skin glistens with sweat—too pretty not to mark up, with bruises, or scratches.

Crimson eyes stare into yours, claws rip the sheets beside you. Every kiss at your neck comes with the threat of sharp fangs, grazing sensitive skin. 

He feels so incredibly filling, his tip squeezing into the deepest corner of you, rubbing your most sensitive spot. 

He knows how to make you feel good, grinds up and into you, one hand at your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw, and the other hand with a thumb against your clit, at a slow and gentle pace. 

Your end crashes over you in waves. Miguel kisses your neck, praising you, “such a good girl,” as his hips brush against yours. His climax is quick to follows yours.

You twirl your fingers in his hair as you watch him take his turn.

You observe the way his jaw clenches, the way his fist grips the sheets, his other hand holding your face, as he kisses you repeatedly, cussing in between. He digs his face into your neck trying to control his reaction to bliss, before coming back up to finish with a lengthy passionate, messy kiss.