#Miguel o' hara x you

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Woven Home

Pairing : Platonic! Miguel O' Hara X Teen! Symbiote! Reader

Genre : fluff, lowkey crack

Summary : Miguel's soft for you. (Parenting is hard.)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, abuse, nothing too deep

Wordcount: 1.4k

Miguel O'Hara masterlist

" Oh no." Miguel breathes out. He glances around the room. It looks horrible, it was too late. 

The room was covered in blood. The chipped wallpaper had always been disgusting, but now it had a reek of death over it. He can only imagine how it went down here. 

" Uhm, actually. She's still alive." Layla suddenly glitches into existence. 

Miguel's eyes widen under his mask as he turns to her.

" What?"

" Yeah, she made it out alive. " She tells him, showcasing a security video taken out on the street.

And indeed, you were alive. Barely, but still. The cameras follow you until you eventually pass out into an alleyway. But something is wrong. The date on that tape dates back 2 years ago. That cannot be possible- Or can it?

" Who are you?" 

Miguel turns around, claws jumping out as he turns to face the voice.

He's surprised as he comes face to face with you. You're in terrible shape. Skinny, bags under your eyes and dirty. 

You glance at his claws before shaking your head. 

" Trust me, you don't want to do that." 

He cocks his head. Anyone with the injuries you had when you escaped your abusive household would be dead. He doesn't want to take his chances with whatever saved you.

" I'm Spiderman-"

" No you're not. I know that dude. He lives a few streets from here." You scowl.

You don't seem intimidated in the slightest. Still seated with one knee up to your chest in the window sill, your posture slacking.

" I'm from a different dimension. I want to give you a chance." He tells you.

You cock your head.

" A different dimension? And a chance at what?" 

" Yes. A chance at living. You wouldn't have to be alone anymore."

" I'm never alone."

-

To this day, he doesn't know how he managed to convince you to join the spider society. You're one of the very few non spider people around.

So far, years have passed. He's gotten to know you a lot better. Your name is Y/N L/N. And you're the host of Toxin. The strongest symbiote he's ever come across, and he's come across Carnage. ( Which is also apparently it's 'parent' symbiote.) It also led to him bringing you on the team. 

You're a complicated person, having been through a lot at a young age. You had been severely abused by your own parents for a reason he doesn't know (or would ever understand.) Your healing journey was scary, but you had hardened from your experiences, putting up a barricade around people. Thankfully, it crumbled since Miguel now had your back. It made Miguel soft towards you. The society he was building was small when he found you, making you one of the first members. Determined to not give you the fate of a future villain (like almost all the other symbiotes), he's kept you closely tucked in his side. Over time, he found a new chance in being a dad through you. Your own parents never guided you, and he finds himself all too eager to give you that guidance. And so you've been with him, watching as the society grew. And growing it did. Miguel watched proudly as you managed to make friends, and eventually helped guide other younglings just like he guides you.

You're also the only one who doesn't take his shit. And who's able to handle it. (The object he threw the one time he wasn't looking at whoever entered his lab, you had thrown it back at him. It had silenced him. He'd never admit it, but he was proud of that. Glad you'll never cower for people like your biological dad ever again.)

The only downside? Your choice of friends. Hobie caused trouble, and was all too eager in teaching you how to aswell. Gwen was okay. But she was also friends with Hobie, and Miles. And Miles was originally an anomaly. Sure, the boy was now part of the team, but still. The only one he approved of was Pavitr. And the random Peters you hang with often.

Truth to be told, he saw you as his daughter.

Currently, he was stood in his lab, glancing around at the screens. He truly had no idea what you were doing, but as long as you weren't putting shit on fire (you wouldn't, Toxin hates fire,) he's fine with it.

" Aye Miguel!"

Speak of the devil. With a symbiote web, you launch yourself onto his platform, two styrofoam boxes in your hands. You wordlessly set his down on his desk, as you often do.

" Thanks. What have you been upto today?" He asks, barely taking his eyes of the screen as he opens the styrofoam box and takes out an empanada.

You open yours, and immediately the scent of chocolate fills the rooms. It's overly sweet, and it lowkey stings his nose.

" Not much. Mostly training actually. You did anything fun today?" You ask him in return, leaning back against his desk.

Apparently you've managed to find pancakes. And hazelnut chocolate spread. 

" Been watching the multiverse, nothing special. Where'd you get that? " he asks you.

" Made it. We were craving something sweet." 

" Empanadas are sweet."

" Right, well, not pancake, chocolate, strawberry sweet-"

" There's strawberries in there?" He asks, glancing at it.

You hum. Picking up a piece and showcasing it to him. He admittedly can see a bit of a lump in the chocolate, but that doesn't really convince him.

" Yeah, want a bite?"

" No thanks, I'll pass."

" Kay' your loss. So I've been thinking-"

" That's worrisome."

You roll your eyes at his comment.

" Sure, whatever. Anyway. We should get a pet. I was thinking a cat, or a spider-"

" No. We already have spider cat. Also, basically everyone here is a spider. Why would you even think of a spider?" He grumbles.

Nothing he ever has read in the parenting books could ever prepare for whenever you open your mouth.

As he speaks, he finally turns to look at you.

You shrug.

" It'd be funny. A tarantula maybe. We could call her Webs." You tell him.

You're not even grinning. You're serious about this.

" I'm still lost. Why a spider?"

" I just told you. It'd be funny. A spider as Spiderpeople HQ's lil mascot. There's also these adorable jumping spiders. They're cute. And small. And a spider." 

He sighs, rubbing his face in his free hand before deciding to give up and continue to eat.

" No. No spider pet at Spider HQ. You can pet Spider-Cat whenever he's here. That's more than enough." 

As if to save him from this hard parenting moment, ( He kinda wants to give into you, give you the world, but this was just a blatantly bad idea. Even by your standard.) A new anomaly pops up on his radar. And coincidentally,  you just finished your food. ( You're always scarfing it down instead of eating it at a normal pace. Something that has to do with Toxin he believes.)

" What about a frog? Nah jumping spider's more fun-"

" No. No frog, no spider. Also, an anomaly just popped onto the radar. A Sandman variant. Earth-632. Have fun. Bring one of your buddies if you want, I'm here if you need back up." He tells you.

You hum, licking your fingers clean before wiping them on your pants.

" Can we eat them?" You ask as you start messing with your watch.

" No. No eating people." 

" Was worth a try." He hears you mumble.

" No it really wasn't. " He tells you in return.

You roll your eyes.

" Whatever. Don't miss us too much!" You call before Toxin's form envelops you completely right as a gateway forms.

Soon enough you've jumped through, and Miguel finds himself opening up yet another screen to monitor your mission, seeing as you've gone alone. 

A rare smile makes it once his face though. Yeah he's soft for you. And maybe he should look intk those jumping spiders. Just for the heck of it....

[ A/N: Am currently on Vacay so all my usual stuff is on hold for a bit. Also I've seen the requests and am working on them : ).]

[miggysbabymama]

At Last

the long awaited sequel to "Everyone Adores You (at least I do)" Thank you for your patience.

Summary: You've been waiting long enough to confess to your best friend but does he feel the same way?

TW: mentions of injury and blood.

Word count: 1k

Coming back to the apartment, you felt a sense of loneliness, and heartache. Desperately wishing that Miguel could see your true feelings that lie underneath the surface of your heart. He was the only one you truly desired.

You had distracted yourself with various men in the past as a way to hide yourself from the true feelings which plagued you. You had finally come to the conclusion that you were in love with Miguel, but nothing could bring you to confess. Fortunately for you, his hectic schedule as Spiderman caused you to keep a comfortable distance literally and figuratively.

"I'm to old for this" you spoke quietly to yourself. How long would it take you to confess. You were acting like a middle schooler hiding from your crush and giggling every time you made eye contact.

That is exactly how you felt when you spent time with Miguel. Nothing else mattered. You felt like an idiot for putting off your true feelings for so long but you never felt like there was a right time.

After many sleepless nights you promised yourself that the next meeting with Miguel would result in you telling him how you honestly felt.

The morning of your meetup you could feel there was something off, Miguel hadn't texted to confirm you were meeting up and you just felt strange. You continued getting ready until you heard someone knocking. As you opened the door you saw Miguel standing in front of you leaning against the doorframe. His suit was ripped in various parts while blood was dripping from his arms, side, and face. Tears spring to your eyes as you carefully bring Miguel inside to the couch.

“Who did this to you?” you say, unable to focus. Your hands were shaking as you applied pressure to his wounds.

“Don’t worry about it cariño I got it under control, it’s a few scrapes and some blood, who cares” he replied nonchalantly.

"No, tell me now, I can't handle seeing you like this." you said looking deeply into his eyes. "I care about you Miguel, I know how strong you are and this villain really did a number on you."

Miguel maintains eye contact, his face softening seeing your reaction to his wounds and lacerations. He grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze as you clean up the blood.

"¡Puta madre!" Miguel exclaims not being able to hide his emotions.

"I'm sorry Miggy" you reply trying to finish dressing his wounds quickly. Once Miguel is patched up you bring him a glass of water and some aspirin. In the back of your mind is the promise you had made to yourself, you silently curse yourself.

"Are you seriously ok?" you ask, "stay as long as you need to, whatever you need, I'm here." you say, reaching out to hold Miguel's hand.

"Si mi muñeca, I'm ok, I'm definitely better since I am here with you." he replies, "I apologize for showing up without letting you know first, there was no where else I could go with the amount of injuries I had." he continues. He looks ashamed for showing up unannounced but that is the last thing on your mind. "I knew I would be safe here." he finished.

Be safe? Here? His words register in your head as you realize that he considers you to be a safe haven. He trusts you, and you trust him.

"I'm glad you decided to come here, don't feel bad, were you afraid I would be mad?" you tell him, holding his face in your hands, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

He holds your wrist, "I was actually worried about something more serious than this." He laughs sheepishly gesturing to his injuries.

"How could you be worried about something more serious than being hurt?" you ask, trying to decipher what Miguel was trying to say.

"Um, to be honest with you, (y/n) there is something that I've been wanting to tell you for a while, I've just been acting like an idiot." Miguel says, looking downward. You rub his back, urging him to continue.

"The truth is (y/n) I'm in love with you, I have been for as long as I can remember. I thought by staying friends, those romantic feelings would stop but to be honest it only made them worse. After seeing you with so many guys I started devoting more time to my work, as a way to take my mind off you. Truth be told, I never stopped thinking of you, my heart is full of you, my whole world is you" He says, gazing at you with a look so full of love and devotion.

You catch yourself staring wide-eyed and slack jawed. Unable to reply, for the first time in a while you are at a loss for words.

"You ok (y/n)? What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Miguel says in a lighthearted tone. "Any confessions you'd like you make?" he says nudging you gently.

Your body is still in shock, did the Miguel O'Hara just confess his undying love for you??? As you try to grapple with the news you just heard, you also try to form your response.

"Miguel" you begin, eyes welling with tears, unable to speak without sobbing into his arms.

"Querida, what's the matter? Don't you love me too? Isn't that why you're crying." Miguel says, speaking softly into your ear. His embrace becomes tighter the harder you cry.

You nod, "Yes Miguel, I love you too," you start, "I feel like such a fool for making you believe that I didn't feel the same" Miguel rubs this thumb catching the countless tears on your face." Do you even know how badly I've wanted to tell you how I felt. I always thought my feelings towards you were one-sided, imagine my surprise seeing you at my door all bloody and disheveled confessing your love for me." you say, your eyes moving from Miguel's eyes to his lips.

He shushes you, giving you a kiss on the forehead, "Don't worry about the past, mi corazón, neither of us confessed until now." he adds, "so wouldn't you say we're both in the wrong?" You laugh, still in awe of being the object of Miguel's affection.

As if he's reading your mind, Miguel brings your face close to his and kisses you, his lips taste so sweet and you begin to wonder how is it that you've gone this long without them.

[jayden-killer]

DREAMS ARE MY REALITY. (pt.3)

[part 1] [part 2]

What would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed...?

A/N: I perfectly know this chapter doesn't really make sense, I just ran out of ideas...

Taglist (write me down in the comments if you want to be added!): @strxngegirl @d1lf-loverrr @laysmt @musicalhistorical @souichi-sbitch @majestic-jazmin

☆

Perhaps I had exaggerated previously with Miguel. Maybe I should have told him differently, and I shouldn't have been so…blunt. There was something in my little head that told me I'd hurt him. That he was probably standing in the shower thinking about what I told him. It was a hard pill to swallow. Hearing someone suddenly tell you that you were all an invention, a drawing... And I probably shouldn't even have told him. I took a deep breath, even as I anxiously swung my leg, constantly moving it. Nervous tic, yes I know. I glanced at the clock: 10.47 am.

We just needed this! Miguel would have taken care of my house in my absence, right? Or maybe not… I could picture him sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, with a tub of Stracciatella ice cream from my freezer, and a blanket over his legs, sobbing at the hard truth as he watched “Gossip Girl.” Poor Miguel. He had already suffered, this was the cherry on top. Perhaps, on the way back, some pizzas would cheer him up. Did he like pizza?

For God's sake! This whole situation had led me to lose track of time, and this had meant that my commitments had been postponed until late in the morning!

«Oh, no… I have to go to the office too! I have to collect those cards, damn it!». I zig-zagged around the room, looking for the first clothes I found in front of me, and in fact my choice was very questionable, because I was wearing baggy trousers and a crumpled shirt. However, my hair looked no better than my clothes. Upon returning, a shower wouldn't have hurt. I began to rush downstairs and collect the last things, i.e. shoes and work backpack, but in my haste, I went back and climbed the stairs very quickly. Miguel would have been engulfed in a state of confusion, and he would have thought I had disappeared. Or maybe not. He's not stupid!

«Miguel» My fist pounded insistently on the door «I have things to do today, plus I'm mega late for work; so, you won't find me since…» I took a quick look at my watch. «Now on! I've got to go, make yourself at home» I didn't wait for an answer from Miguel, I didn't even know if he had heard me, but it didn't matter, because those papers on the desk wouldn't have filled in by themselves. I hurriedly put on my shoes and ran, hoping to make up for the time lost this morning. The air was humid and so warm; this wasn't what I was planning for today. Running wasn't the perfect choice too: I would have arrived all sweaty and tired.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

«Where did they go?». Miguel looked around bewildered, eyebrows arched down with an expression of pure confusion. Had they left him there without warning him? You without even saying goodbye? He clicked his tongue in disappointment and put on the gray shirt he was given. It fit a little tight, like the washer had shrunk the clothes after a wash, but this made him notice that it accentuated his six pack abs even more. He didn't make a fuss about it, after all it was all that person owned, and he would even have to thank them when he got back. Looking in the mirror a hand traced the outline of his jaw, going up to the left cheek. Miguel couldn't help but think that he seemed strange to be a fictional character. He had always felt real, like a real human being. It was difficult for him to think that it was a creation. All this was complicated for him. His thoughts drifted elsewhere and he began to think about how to fix his Gizmo. Lyla was not available in any way, precisely because his four-dimensional clock was out of order. He snorted in pure anger, then remembered that there was no point in getting angry, and that keeping calm was, of course, the best option; so he went down to the living room and took a look at the mess that surrounded the room.

«Dios mio, que pasò aquì?» Miguel exclaimed. His eyes weren't met with a pretty sight. There were cloths strewn everywhere, books and papers on the tables and floor, and even crockery that hadn't been washed. Miguel felt a sense of generosity overwhelm him, deciding that it wouldn't hurt if he tidied up the house. After all, he owed his host a debt. For him the day seemed to pass quite quickly (this was because he was busy with household chores), mopping the floor, dusting the furniture and sorting dirty clothes from clean ones, all to the musical accompaniment of Manuel Chao albums. It was 5 in the afternoon and he collapsed on the sofa, exhausted. He hadn't happened to do all these chores even at his house, but perhaps this was due to the order he maintained in his laboratory and apartment. Miguel hated dirt, so he hated mess. Now the house gave off a delicate clean scent and the man felt satisfied. But as soon as his back leaned against the back of the sofa, some keys turned in the lock of the main door and Miguel pricked up his ears: it was only the landlord who had left him in the morning, now with two pizza boxes in his hands and a plastic bag. «I'm back. Hey, what's that clean smell? I don't remember cleaning».

«That's because I cleaned».

«Oh».

«Yeah». Miguel took a breath and took the pizza boxes into his hands, depositing them on the kitchen island. They looked around and immediately realized that Miguel had cleaned their house while he was away. «Did you do everything yourself?» Miguel nodded and leaned his arms on the island. «But...why?».

«Because I had to repay. I am your guest now, consider me as a sorta of roommate. Ah, and because there was a mess everywhere».

They let out a laugh upon hearing that confession, shook their head and placed their hands on his hips. “I owe you one. Or maybe more».

«More than one» Miguel pointed out.

«Okay, O'Hara. I'll go wash my hands and then we'll eat this good pizza, yes?».

«Que chingados me ocurrió…».

He had to admit it, Miguel had never felt so welcome that this felt strange. His family had mistreated him so many times during his life that a proposition as trivial as simple as eating pizza with a person he had met that very morning seemed unreal. He'd felt strange and confused, but part of him couldn't take it. He wanted to make things better. He really wanted to help this time and be friendly. Even if that would take a long, long time, according to him. He nodded a second time, seeing his host walk away towards the bathroom. He breathed in and out, and ran a hand through his hair.

[migueloharasbabe]

Sex Pollen

A/N: This is my first time writing in a while. Miguel O’ Hara brought my writing back from the dead (so did Oscar Isaac, let’s be honest). I’m so excited to share this fic with you guys! Also yes I know the sex pollen trope is so overdone but... I had to. 

Content: Miguel x gn! reader (this is my first time writing for a gender neutral reader, I hope I did well). Smut, 18+. 

Words: 1.7k 

You had been working in the Spider Society for almost a year now. Although it was a bit scary when you first joined, all of the different Spiders had warmed up to you immediately, Jess taking you under her wing to show you all the ropes of just exactly what they did. Lyla helped you learn the ropes of how the technical side of things worked, and that’s what you fell in love with doing. You ended up working with Spider-Byte, both of you helping run things smoothly with getting anomalies back to their actual universe. Everyone was so sweet and welcoming. 

Everyone except Miguel O’ Hara. 

You had worked hard in the Spider Society and impressed everyone. Everyone except him. He always had a snide comment to say, or was quick to snap at you if you interrupted him in the middle of his observation of the other universes. He made your blood boil and you tried to avoid him the best you could. After countless attempts to show Miguel different ideas that you had come up with-to which he dismissed quickly, you decided to just keep your head down when you found yourself around the hothead. 

“(Y/N), how is that report coming along on that anomaly?” Miguel asked you, his head raised slightly as he looked down at you to await your answer. 

Your hands were working fast on the keyboard and you kept your eyes glued to the screen, refusing to meet his eyes. “Almost done with it,” you said simply. You looked up after a few seconds when you saw Miguel was still there, his head cocked to the side with an eyebrow raised. 

“Why the avoidance, (Y/N)? It’s almost like you’re… annoyed. Are you annoyed at me?” Miguel asks, his voice hinting at a tone of amusement. 

You pressed your tongue against your cheek and bit back a smart retort, before focusing back on the task at hand. “I’m not annoyed. Just trying to avoid small talk, you get mad anyway.” You said, voice curt. Before anything else could be said, Lyla popped into the room, interrupting Miguel as he opened his mouth. 

“Miguel, we have an anomaly spotted.” Lyla said, pulling up a screen to show Miguel what universe it was in. You started to sit down to help gain more information on this anomaly but Miguel shook his head. 

“You can go ahead and head home, (Y/N). You’ve done enough work today,” He said, his voice low. 

‘But-.” You started and Miguel just looked down at you, his eyes narrowed. 

“I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with my anger,” He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Before you could say anything else, he was gone through the portal and you cursed under your breath. You waved at Spider-Byte before leaving, finding yourself back in your apartment in your universe. You tried to ignore the bite of Miguel’s words as you changed into a soft pair of PJ’s, deciding not to let the asshole get to you. You fell back against the bed, your body instantly relaxing against the pillows. You started to close your eyes, but heard the familiar sound of the portal and lifted your head, seeing Miguel step through. He looked frustrated, but what was new? 

You pulled your covers towards you, covering up when you realized you had sheer pj’s on, heart pounding in your chest. “M-Miguel?” You ask, your voice almost a whisper. 

Miguel pulled his mask off and you noticed that he was panting, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. You started to come towards him, but Miguel put a hand out, and you noticed his claws were out. 

“Don’t. Just… stay right there.” Miguel growled and you froze. “The anomaly led me out into a field. Lots of different flowers around, and one species happened to produce sex pollen.” 

“Oh,” was all that managed to come out of your mouth. Your heart started to thud against your chest even harder, almost able to feel the tension in the air. 

“Yeah, I don't really know why I brought myself here, but….” Miguel trailed off, slumping down against the wall, his head falling back with a small thud. 

“Does it hurt?” You ask softly, still on the bed. You were scared to move, not because of Miguel, but because you knew what would happen if you got close to him. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of Miguel in that way-he was an attractive man, but you guys hated each other. Or you thought you did. The heat in your stomach was saying otherwise at the way that he was looking at you, eyes dark with need and lust. 

“Not terribly. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Miguel said with a small smirk. “Mierda,” He growled, his hands digging into the carpet, tearing shreds into the fabric. You tried your best not to imagine him moaning, his hand gripping the headboard as his other ripped at your sheets. You tried not to imagine his tongue in your mouth, how it would feel to have his cock inside you. The room suddenly felt unbearably hot and you moved to open a window, covers be damned. You felt Miguel’s eyes on you, and it made you warmer. 

“If you’re trying to tempt me, it’s working.” Miguel says, motioning to your pj’s and you quickly cover up again. 

“You’re the one who showed up here unannounced.” You bit back, trying to ignore the guilt clouding your annoyance. 

“Mhmm, that I did.” Miguel said almost matter-of-factly. “If it’s an annoyance though, I can leave,” Miguel said, starting to get up and open a portal. Before you knew it, you were across the room and had a hand on his wrist. You found yourself on the bed as soon as your hand touched his skin. Your breath hitched in your throat as Miguel hovered above you, his black hair falling forward slightly, his mouth slightly parted. 

“I told you not to get close to me, (Y/N). You have a bad habit of not listening, you know that?” Miguel quipped, one of his hands coming up to touch your chin, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. 

“I listen plenty. It’s you who doesn’t listen. You act like you can’t stand me,” you admit, biting your lip in regret as there’s a slight flash of hurt in Miguel’s eyes. 

“Can’t stand you? You’re one of the most brilliant people we have on the team,” Miguel says, his voice soft. 

“Then why do you shut down all of my ideas?” You ask, confusion lacing your tone. 

“Because most of your ideas involve you putting yourself in risky situations,” Miguel says and you can tell that he’s being sincere. He winces slightly and you frown. 

“I thought you said the pollen doesn’t hurt.” 

“It doesn’t. For a bit, but… if I don’t do anything about it soon, It can.” Miguel explained. “I don’t want to pressure you though, and I’m pretty sure this is already pressuring you enough,” He said, almost through a groan as he tried to get up, but you pulled him back down to you. 

“No, I’m not pressured. I promise,” you say, your voice sincere. Miguel lets out a small growl, his lips landing on yours. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hands finding his hair and you hear a moan escape his mouth. His lips meet yours in need, his hands going to grip at your hips. You start to slowly move your hips against Miguel’s, his lips falling open in a groan. 

“Fuck,” he growls out, his cock throbbing against you. You feel as one of Miguel’s hands come up to your pj’s, a gasp escaping your mouth as his claws rip it off of you. 

“Miguel-,” you start to protest but are cut off by Miguel’s lips against your neck, his tongue licking against your skin. 

“I’ll buy you another one, promise,” he mutters against your neck. A moan escapes your mouth when Miguel’s hand travels down to your dripping core, a breathy chuckle muffled against your neck. “You’re so wet for me already, cariño.” 

“Miguel, please,” you plead, suddenly hating how needy you sound right now. 

“Please what?” Miguel teases, lifting his head up to look into your eyes. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg and Miguel smirks. His lips meet yours passionately, his tongue slipping into your mouth again as he lines himself up with your entrance. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance and you gasp as he slowly bottoms out inside you, your hands gripping his shoulders. Miguel lets out a groan, his face burying into your neck as he slowly starts to move his hips. 

Your fingers move to rest in his hair, tugging slightly as you move your hips in time with Miguel’s. The sound of skin slapping against skin and moans fill the room, a melody that is like music to both you and Miguel’s ears. His lips trail kisses up your neck to your ear before he whispers: 

“You’re taking me so well, mi tesoro.” 

A surge of warmth rushes through your body at Miguel’s words and you let out a whimper. His hips start to pick up the pace and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. You feel as a familiar warmth courses through your body, your orgasm right on the horizon as Miguel continues to fuck you. 

“Miguel, I’m-.” You cut off with a moan. 

“I know, baby, I know.” Miguel says softly, his lips covering yours in a passionate kiss as you finally reach your orgasm, body twitching slightly as it comes in waves. Miguel continues to rock his hips against yours, a growl low in his throat as his free hand comes up to rest on the pillow, claws tearing gashes into it. His hips start to stutter as he chases his own high, finally reaching his peak when he lets out a low groan against your lips, the pillow now almost shredded to ribbons. 

Miguel pulled you close to him, breathing now slowing as he looked down at you. He touched your cheek, his thumb rubbing gently against the skin. 

“Thank you for the help, (Y/N).” Miguel says softly, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And as for your ideas… I’ll hear them out again. As long as I can protect you if there’s trouble,” 

“I can handle myself, but how can I say no to that?” You tease, a smile forming on your face as Miguel rolls his eyes playfully. 

“Cállate.” He says back, hitting you softly with a non-ruined pillow. 

[gditrisha]

🌙  ORBIT | A Miguel O' Hara x Sunny Playlist ☀️

A playlist inspired by @liliacamethyst "Web Of" (Miguel O' Hara x Spider Sun) fanfic series featuring warm instrumentals and smooth R&B vocals!~ LISTEN NOW ON SPOTIFY ► PLAYLIST MASTERLIST [ listen in order | shuffling the playlist will mix the story ]

NOTES:

Tracklist is not final, songs will be added with each chapter update!

Some songs are sussy / suggestive

The last song "A Life Like This" is the endgame track of this playlist so whatever direction the Web of series goes, the playlist will ultimately end in catharsis (the song can be viewed as bittersweet too so it works)

[miggyyyyohara]

AY PAPI- I MEAN DADDY please- i mEAN SIR!

Follow this artist on Instagram @ narutoss.ramen 🫶🏻🤌🏻

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[wyvernest]

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

[inkdrinkerworld]

idk if it’s weird but do you know that thing where you grab your boobs for comfort?? imagine doing that to miguel 😭😭

omg omg😭😭

you're laying in bed unable to fall asleep when it happens. your hand just creeps up his shirt.

miguel doesn't think much of it, you like the skin in skin contact- so does he.

it's when your hand hovers just under his pectorals that he turns to you and raises an eyebrow.

he's still working, hair tired back with one of your scrunchies and his tablet looks tiny in his massive hand. he'd been trying to hypothesise a re-calibration to his nano-bots all day.

"what do you want?" he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.

your eyes are barely even open, your face turned to face his bicep. "can't sleep," you murmur, planting your hand on his chest and squeezing.

"oye," he bats at your hand when you do it a second time. you groan when his hand removes yours from under his shirt.

"miguel," you whine, drawing the syllables of his name out long.

"amor," he mocks your exact tone. "why're you grabbing my chest?" he drops your hand and cups your face, guiding your tired eyes to rest on his face.

"'cos it's comforting," your words sludge together but miguel makes you out just fine. he cracks a smile, you narrow your barely open eyes; "it is. helps me sleep."

"yeah?" he teases, and you nod. your hand slinks back up his shirt and rests on his chest, for the most part it's just an added heat to miguel's chest. "if you don't fall asleep any faster i'm calling bullshit."

you let out a tired giggle and slobber a kiss to his bicep; miguel waits five minutes and in no time he feels your breathing change- deeper now as you fall asleep.

he can't believe it.

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.

If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.

You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.

He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(

Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.

Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.

He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.

On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.

However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.

One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.

Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.

You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.

He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.

Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.

He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.

He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.

His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”

“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.

“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.

Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.

He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.

It’s worth it, though. The strain.

Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”

Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.

Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.

Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.

More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.

He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.

He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.

He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.

Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.

And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.

Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.

He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.

Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.

He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

001

Pairing : Miguel O' Hara X Reader

Genre : fluff

Summary : In which you, his best friend, takes care of him when he's sick.

Wordcount: 1.5k lol 

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

An odd sound leaves Miguel's lips, something between a cough and clearing his throat and he glances at you with the hope you won't notice.

Which you of course do.

You've been his best friend for years. The only person he hasn't lost yet. The only person he allows to be close to him. And the only one in his universe who knows of his identity and occupation. The other spiders know who you are aswell. You don't have any powers as you aren't a spiderman variant, but the other spiders like you a lot. Probably more than they like Miguel. ( You're often their ticket to getting stuff easy through him.)

" Are you okay?"

He glances at you with his usual, brooding expression, before his eyes move back to the screens focused on the multiverse.

" Ju-" 

As he tries to speak his voice sounds extremely hoarse, and so he clears his throat.

" Just fine."

You shake your head.

" No you're not. You sound hoarse. Are you sick?" You ask him.

He doesn't turn to answer.

If you were anyone else, he'd glare at you, maybe even tell you to mind your own business. But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. 

Miguel's aware he's got at least a bit of a crush on you.

When he doesn't reply, you approach him. He watches in concealed curiousity what you're about to do.

He freezes when you raise the back of your hand to his head. He can't help but lean into your slight touch, turning qinqto absolute putty in your hands.

It's a pitty you retrace your hand all too soon, followed with a surprised expression.

" Miguel, you're heating up! You definitly have a fever.-"

" I'm fine Mi Perla-"

You scoff, cutting him off mid sentence.

" No you're not. You're sick. And you're going to rest, we're not going to argue over that. Layla?!"

Miguel can't stop you as you call out to his assistant.

" No, I have work, you know the multiverse rests on-"

" Y/N, what can I do for you?"

Yes, even his AI seems to like you more than him, something that makes him roll his eyes.

" I know, the multiverse rests on your shoulders. Didn't you build an entire team to help you with it?" You reply, giving him a pointed look before turning to the AI.

" Hi Layla, can you call Jess in please? Tell her Miguel's taking the day off, he's sick." You tell her.

" Will do! Get well soon boss." Layla says, turning to Miguel before dissapearing again.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words leave his brain the minute you gently grab hold of his hand.

" C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

-

And going to bed he did. After you've personally delivered him to his room and instructed him to get changed into something more comfortable, he finds himself fast asleep the minute he lays down.

When he wakes up again, you're back, seated beside his bed on the floor, leaning your head on the edge of his bed. The tv in his room is on, and he recognises a series you've told him about a few times playing. As soon as he moves, you're moving aswell.

" Hey, how're you feeling? Too hot? Do you need me to refresh the towel?" You ask him hurriedly, moving to get up.

He stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder, taking his time to sit up. The folded cold towel which was laid on his forehead dropping in his lap, his skin still feeling feverish.

" Why are you seated on the floor?" He asks instead, bypassing al your questions.

You blink, before glancing around the room.

" There's no chairs in here." You point out.

" You could've sat on my bed. It's more comfortable." He explains plainly.

You blink again. 

It isn't as if his bed is small. Considering he runs the entire team, his bedroom is the biggest, a nice spacious room, with a spacious bed. 

When you don't reply, he speaks again.

" Come sit down." 

He pats the spot beside him.

" You sure you don't need the space considering you're sick and stuff?" 

He rolls his eyes.

" Sit down before I'll drag you on myself." 

At the well intentioned threat, you finally move, getting up and eventually seating yourself beside him on the bed. 

" You didn't reply to my questions though." You point out, turning to look at him.

He gives you one of his rare smiles.

" Don't worry, I'm alright." 

" Okay. Tell me when you're feeling hungry though, I'll make you soup." You smile at him.

The two of you sit like that for quite a while, Miguel joining you in watching the series.

He feels pampered with the way you care for him, refusing to let him as much as lift a finger.

At some point, he eventually has to go to the toilet. When he comes back, he sits slightly closer to you, his arm touching yours. He feels a flutter in his chest when you lean your head on his shoulder.

Later on, after diner and back to watching tv (stuff he picked out this time, doesn't matter that he falls asleep every so often in between.), the two of you are once again back to comfortable sitting beside one another on his bed. 

" You can lay down if you'd like?" He suggests, noticing you shift every so often in your spot.

" Wouldn't that be a little, I don't know, uncomfortable for you? To share your bed like that?" You ask, tilting your head.

He shakes his head, not even having to think about it.

" You're my best friend. I don't mind."

" Okay, wake me up if I fall asleep though. Or if you need something." You tell him before getting comfortable.

20 minutes pass before you fall asleep, just as you had expected. 

Miguel watches you for a few moments with a small affectionate smile. You looked so peaceful, he couldn't bring himself to wake you. 

His fever has gone down quite a bit, his skin thankfully not feeling feverish anymore thanks to his quicker healing. 

Eventually he decides to turn off the light, climbing back in bed before, also daring to throw an arm around your middle.

-

When he wakes up again, his fever is gone, and so are you.

Although he's a little dissapointed, he does understand you probably left for a fresh set of clothes and everything.

He's also made it clear that he doesn't want you to walk home by yourself at night (you often leave at ungodly hours, or really late. You'vefallen asleep in his office a few times before.) Your apartment is thankfully not too far off from HQ, and he trusts you've asked one of the other spiders to have walked you home.

He's become a little overprotective over you considering you're the last person outside of his business he has.

-

It's midday when he sees you again, having just returned for a mission. You're seated at his desk, swiping at your phone when he walks in.

" Mi Perla." He calls you in greeting.

You look up from your screen, smiling as you spot him and pocketing your phone.

" Miguel, how are you feeling? I take it your fever left?" You approach him.

He hums. You raise your hand to check again, and he subconsciously slightly lowers his head more into your reach.

" That does feel better, glad you're okay." You tell him, retracing your hand.

He takes your hand in his, and the surprise on your face is evident as he raises the back of your hand to his lips.

" Thank you for taking care of me last night, Mi Perla."

002

[ A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this. Let me know if you'd like to read a pt.2 or send me requests please. I really want to write more about him but my brain is a little blank.]

[miggysbabymama]

Everyone Adores You (at least I do)

Summary: You're a childhood friend of Miguel, you've been in love with him for a while but you've always been too afraid to speak your mind.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem reader

Word Count: 716 (so short I'm sorry!!)

A/N: This is my first fic ever so please be understanding with me. I appreciate any criticism you have for me and I am currently writing pt. 2 as we speak, hope you enjoy!

Tags: Unrequited love, angsty, some fluff if you squint. Miguel speaking Spanish briefly.

Checking your watch, it was 1:15, Miguel should’ve been here 15 minutes ago. He’s usually punctual so you can’t understand why he would be late.

You and Miguel have been friends since you were young. You’ve grown up together, seen one another at their worst, witnessed each other’s first heartbreak and everything in between. Miguel was expected to meet you at your favorite café and catch up. You’re the only non-spider that knows of Miguel’s secret identity, something that you hold very close to your heart.

You found out on accident while snooping in Miguel’s room when you were both teenagers, you saw his suit lying on his bed and confronted him. Teenage Miguel had no backbone and shared everything immediately. That’s how its always been. Your relationship continued to evolve the older you guys got. You never had to question where you stood with Miguel, thankfully.

As he got older his demeanor changed and he became more isolated and distant which you knew this was due to his highly stressful job but his soft spot for you always remained and that was something that you were grateful for.

You guys talk on the phone infrequently but there was nothing like spilling your guts to one another in person.

Just as you were about to sit down at a table, a tall figure comes running through the door so fast you don’t have enough time to move out of the way 

“Hey!” you exclaim, realizing its Miguel, the anger quickly dissipates from your face. 

“Disculpa!!  Sorry (y/n), I tried to get here as soon as I could, I’m sorry I didn’t text.”

He speaks rapidly apologizing and giving reasons as to why he was late. You have no problem catching every word that falls out of his mouth. It doesn’t take long for you guys to fall back into your typical pattern of speaking loudly, cracking jokes, and using hand gestures to magnify your strong emotions. You’re mesmerized with Miguel, his humble confidence, how good he listens and hangs on to every word you speak. It feels good being in his presence knowing that you can be completely yourself.

You briefly consider why you guys never became a couple, but as soon as Miguel starts speaking about a recent date he had been on those thoughts quickly leave your mind as soon as they came. 

“I had a really awesome time, we met while on a mission” He says, “she has such a good sense of humor, we share lots of similar interests in books and movies!” says Miguel excitedly.

“You know what that feels like right (y/n)?” You quickly plaster a fake smile onto your face, 

"Yeah, I totally get how you’re feeling Miggy” Speaking his nickname only makes you fall for him even more. You take a quick sip of your latte hoping Miguel didn’t notice your unenthusiastic response. As your meeting continues the more jealous you begin to feel. Never once were you envious of the girls that Miguel was dating, he had his life and you had yours. It seemed like overnight your schoolgirl crush had manifested itself into an all-consuming infatuation that you were unable to combat.

 “Ay (y/n) me estas escuchando?” Miguel says as he snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality.

 “Are you ok, you seem off, Mamita?” Miguel asks concerned as his eyes dart across your face, searching for an answer. His nickname for you usually brought a smile to your face now makes your stomach churn with resentment. 

“No, I’m good, my job has been kicking my ass recently, you know how it is.” You trail off hoping to get Miguel off your case. He nods in response, dropping his concerns to change the subject to his work with the Spider Society.

As your coffee date came to a close you knew Miguel needed to leave, since there were other universes that needed his help. He gave you a hug before he left and that was it, he was gone. You walked to your apartment, crying softly at what could have been. Wishing Miguel was here to comfort you and to hear you confess your love for him. But all your desires existed only in your mind. 

[ultravioletrayz]

BARE (18+)

5 o'clock in the morning. The baby's asleep, there's an hour until Miguel needs to start getting ready to head into the Society, and the city streets are surprisingly calm. It's the perfect conditions for an invigorating last moment of sleep to energise your tired bodies before a day of changing diapers and catching anomalies.

But it's also the perfect conditions for wet, hot, hushed morning sex with your big, strong husband who woke up with such bad morning wood he couldn't just let it go down on it's own. He needed to fuck it out of his system using his pretty little wifey.

You're laying on your side, holding a pillow up to your mouth to muffle your moans and mewls as Miguel rocks on his knees behind your horizontal ass, grinding his heavy balls against your wet folds and the backs of your thighs as he uses his rough hands to pull you back and forth along his meaty dick.

Nightgown bunched up above your chest so that Miguel can perversely stare at your squished tits as they jiggle against the mattress, his boxers hanging by his knees since he was too desperate for the sultry warmth of your perfect cunt to soothe the ache in his thighs after waking up from a heavenly dream where he got to fill you up with your second beautiful child.

He doesn't have the time for it right now, focused on the way you clench and gush around him as the blunt head of his cock massages every deep, blissful, spongy spot inside of you, slowly and sensually ramming himself as far as your tight pussy will accomodate him.

But you better guarantee that the second he gets home tonight and he lays his eyes on his beautiful mama, you'll be filled to the fucking brim and pregnant by tomorrow morning.

inspired by my horrendous case of morning wap 😔

[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. 

[moralesluvr]

oooo can you write something where miguel meets yn’s family for the first time and your mom or aunt or some family member pulls you to the side and tells you “that man….is gonna get your pregnant.”

PROMISES IN THE DARK | m. o’hara.

when miguel was about to meet your parents, he was calm, composed as always, his hand resting on the small of your back—a touch that was as protective as it was possessive. his eyes, dark and intense, scanned the room, taking in every minuscule detail, from your baby photos plastered on the wall to the little intricate details of wall trim and tablecloths. there was an air of quiet confidence about him, the kind that made your heart race a little faster as you squeeze his hand tightly.

“ready for this?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but miguel could already sense your anxious aura.

his gaze flicked to you, and he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, perhaps usual. “always,” he replied, his voice low and controlled, sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “don’t worry, mi amor. i’ll behave. for now.”

your cheeks flushed at the underlying promise in his words, but before you could respond, your mother appeared, arms open wide in welcome.

the evening unfolded with ease—or so it seemed. miguel was nothing but polite, attentive, and everything your family could have hoped for. but you knew better. beneath his facade of a calm exterior was a storm waiting to be unleashed, a storm adjacent to a tension that crackled between you every time his fingers brushed yours or when his eyes locked onto yours from across the room.

at some point during your little reunion, your aunt pulled you aside, her eyes wide with that all-too-familiar twinkle. she was always so sweet, face as plump as a berry as her reddened lips parted into a smile as she learned to whisper in your ear.

“y’know, y/n, he’s something else,” she murmured, glancing over at your fiancé, who was deep in conversation with your uncle.

“but honey, I gotta tell you—” she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “that man... he’s gonna get you pregnant.”

you immediately choked on your drink, nearly spilling it in the process. “auntie!”

she just grinned, completely unfazed by your surprise. she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and leans into you attentively, “darling, i’m completely serious. you see the way he looks at you? it’s like he’s ready to devour you whole! trust me, it’s only a matter of time.”

your face heated up as you quickly excused yourself, from your spot on the couch, feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed. you walked back to the kitchen where your family was gathered, trying to shake off her words, but they clung to you like a second skin.

miguel’s eyes found yours as you re-entered the room, and his lips curved into that maddeningly subtle smile. he didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could read you better than anyone else could. the way your eyebrows furrowed and the way your body language began to appear more reserved, he knew something had happened while you two were apart.

you took a deep breath and crossed the room to where he was standing, feeling the pull of his presence strongly.

“what did she say to you?” he asked quietly, his voice so low that only you could hear it. his fingers brushed against your waist, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken as you gulped, succumbing to his warm touch.

you bit at your lip, debating whether to tell him, but you knew there was no point in hiding it, so you pushed your nervousness aside and sighed, “she said... that you’re going to get me pregnant.”

miguel’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his expression still stoic, but you caught the flicker of something darker in his eyes. he almost looked like he wanted to laugh. he stepped closer to you, his hand sliding around to rest on the small of your back, pulling you just a fraction closer to him.

“is that so?” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, but with an edge that made your knees weak.

you swallowed, “i mean…well..she seems pretty convinced.”

miguel’s smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked his teeth, “she’s a smart woman.”

he, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “and she’s right, doll. it’s only a matter of time.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, ringing throughout your brain as the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression calm, controlled, but his eyes were dark with intent, filled with promises you weren’t sure you were ready to unravel in a house full of family.

but there was no mistaking the message he had spoken to you, because when miguel made a promise, he kept it. and judging by the way his hand tightened slightly on your waist, his thumb brushing just below the curve of your ribcage, that promise was as good as kept.