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#Spider-Man's Wife
emichevy · 1 year
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NOIR HEAD CANONS!! (Part 2)
More will come about the others too 🦅
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miguelswifey04 · 1 year
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Miguel and his shy wife softly making out? Fluffy?
oh my god yes 😩
miguel o’hara x shy! wife! reader
as miguel and his you, his shy wife find yourselves alone, your lips delicately meet in a tender kiss. your bodies pressed together, the intimacy between you grows with each passing moment. miguel wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his hands gently exploring your curves, as if memorizing every inch of your body.
your kisses deepen, becoming more passionate as your desire for each other intensifies. miguel’s tongue glides along his your lips, seeking entrance, and you willingly grant him access. your tongues dance in a slow and sensual rhythm, exploring and teasing.
miguel's hands roam further, cupping your face in his palms before trailing down to caress the curves of your body again. his touch is gentle, reverent, as if wanting to appreciate every part of you. you continue to kiss, your bodies gravitating closer, losing yourselves in the intoxicating sensation.
the air around you is filled with soft gasps and the sound of your lips meeting. your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him even closer as you share this intimate moment. your bodies sway with an unspoken desire, the world around you fading away as you get lost in each other's embrace.
as you break your kiss, your eyes meet, the love and longing evident in their gaze. miguel softly brushes a strand of hair behind his your ear, his voice filled with adoration. "eres tan hermosa, mi amor…i cherish these moments with you. te amo," he whispers, his words a testament to their deep connection.
tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @meeom
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cupcakeinat0r · 6 months
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demigod-of-the-agni · 5 months
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“You’re going?”
“I’m going.”
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SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE ME THE SPIDER-MAN INDIA VERSION OF KRAVEN'S LAST HUNT. PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU. PLEASE.
PRETTY PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WRITE ME MEERA SPIRALLING ON A STORMY NIGHT AND PAVITR CRAWLING OUT FROM THE GRAVE. PLEASE WRITE PAVITR PRESSING MEERA'S HAND AGAINST HIS FACE BEFORE HE SWINGS OFF INTO THE NIGHT.
PRETTY PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE I WILL PAY YOU MILLIONS OF DOLLARS PLEASE I JUST ASK FOR THIS ONE THI
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themisterhip · 1 year
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More Lyla sketches wooooo!!!!
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drempen · 10 months
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💎✨️
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daisies-daydreams · 9 months
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I’m in desperate need of a desperate Miguel who worships the very ground his wife walks on 😔🙏 BRO IS HUGE AND I JUST KNOW. I JUST KNOW HE WOULD LOVE TO BE LIKE A CAT AND MAKE BISCUITS ON HIS CHUBBY WIFEY. And the ASSets are just sprinkles on the cake. So let’s just say chubby wifey puts on a whole cute outfit and her hair is cute and everything. They go on a date and Yk she gets stares and compliments..BUT MIGUELS POSSESSIVE ASS IS LIKE ‘keep looking..keep saying stuff..BUT THIS ASS IS MINE’ Yk. And then it ends with Miguel bending us over at a 90 degree angle and possible 180. How does he do it idk. Science.
Adore You (Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: Jealous!Miguel, Swearing, Manhandling, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Mating Press, Full Nelson, Unprotected P in V Sex (You know the drill), Rough Sex, Slight Exhibitionism, Creampies, I'm Not Fluent in Spanish Word Count: 5.5k+
A/N: Hi hi! Thank you very much for your request! I love husband!Miguel (that man has my whole heart I swear). I hope you enjoy! 💕
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
The valet’s cheeks flushed the second you stepped out of the car.
“G-Good evening ma’am,” the thin man stammered. You flashed him a friendly smile as you smoothed your hands over your dress, your breasts nearly spilling out from the tight-fitting clothing as you adjusted yourself. Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at the luxurious restaurant before you - a large marble building laced with ribbons of ivy. You smiled when your husband, Miguel, came beside you and gingerly laid a hand on your hip.
“Happy anniversary, cariño,” your beloved whispered with a bright grin [honey]. You beamed and turned around, your hands gliding over his muscular forearms. Miguel’s eyes softened as you raised yourself on your tiptoes and puckered your lips. He smiled and dipped his head down to capture your lips in a warm, tender embrace. His brows furrowed when the valet cleared his throat.
“Right,” your husband muttered as he handed the man his keys. The valet thanked him before climbing into the large, black sports car. You squeaked as Miguel’s hand glided from your hip to the globe of your ass.
“Mi amor,” you whispered loudly as your cheeks flushed [My love]. Your husband chuckled.
“What? I’m just escorting my lovely wife inside,” he mused with a wink.
“Mhm,” you hummed with raised brows. Miguel pecked your forehead as he kept his hand over your bum while leading you inside. You looked around in awe at the several marble pillars that lined the walls of the restaurant.
"O'Hara, party of two," your husband said to the hostess at the front desk. The blonde woman nodded before grabbing two thick menus.
"Please follow me!" she chirped. You smiled at your beloved as the two of you were escorted to the back patio. The sound of piano music combined with the casual chatter of the guests filled your ears as you stepped back outside. You gasped when you saw a table set by the balcony: a bottle of wine neatly placed on the side, a card resting on a plate, and rose petals sprinkled across the white table cloth.
"One of our servers will be out momentarily. Enjoy your evening!" the woman said as she clasped her hands together.
"Thank you," you grinned before she turned and walked back inside. Your heart warmed as Miguel took your smaller hand into his.
“Do you like it?” he asked before kissing each and every one of your knuckles. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded.
“I love it. Muchas gracias, mi vida,” you sniffed [Thank you so much, my life]. Your husband smiled and cupped your cheek.
"De nada, mi amor," he whispered [You’re welcome]. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Miguel stepped over and pulled out your chair.
"Mi señora," he hummed [My lady].
"Gracias, mi caballero," you giggled as you took your seat [Thank you, my gentleman]. Miguel kissed the top of your head just as your waiter strolled up to the table.
“Welcome to Le Jardin de Marbre! My name is Mark and I’ll be taking care of you this...fine evening,” the dark-haired man lilted as his eyes grazed over your form. You felt Miguel shift behind you before Mark's smile fell. He cleared his throat while your husband took his seat. “Would the two of you care for any other drinks besides your wine?” the waiter asked.
“Yes, I'll have a water, please,” you replied. Miguel simply nodded with a short grunt. Mark grinned before popping open the bottle of red wine. You gasped as the cork flew over your head and over the balcony.
“Ah, I’ll get it later,” the waiter laughed nervously. You giggled while Miguel’s furrowed his thick brows. Mark leaned close to you while he tilted the neck of the bottle over your sparkling glass.
“Might I say you look wonderful this evening, ma’am,” the bold man whispered. You flushed a little as you gazed back down at the menu.
“Th-Thank you,” you muttered. You blinked as you shifted your gaze between your glass and the bottle. “Um, that’s good,” you piped up. Mark looked down to see that he’s nearly filled your entire glass.
“Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic smile. Miguel raised a brow as he poured his drink next. Mark's hands shook as your husband's frown slowly shifted into a deep scowl. The server placed the bottle down before stepping back.
“I’ll go get your waters,” Mark said before quickly turning on his heel. You took a small sip of your wine, the slightly sweet flavor washing over your taste buds as you turned your attention to the card in front of you.
“Would you like me to open it now?” you asked.
“I'll leave it up to you,” he smiled before taking a sip of his drink. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully ripped the envelope open. You pulled the card out with a giddy smile as you straightened in your seat. You smiled as you opened it, a small postcard slipping out. You eyed it briefly before your attention was stolen by the words in front of you:
“Mi Cielo,
Words can’t describe how much love I have for you. Every day I’m thankful to have you as my wife-my beloved. You make my heart glow when I wake up next to you every morning, when I get home from work, when you hold me after I’ve had a long day. You are so precious, (Y/N), and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with someone as incredible as you.
Te amo mucho, mi vida. Feliz aniversario.
Sincerely,
Tu gran oso”
Tears streamed down your cheeks as your bottom lip trembled.
“Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Miguel cooed as he brushed his thumb over your cheek [I’m sorry, my life]. You shook your head.
“No, it’s okay. I’m just so, so happy to have someone as amazing as you in my life,” you beamed. Miguel’s eyes softened as he slipped his hand into yours again.
“Gracias, bella,” he murmured [Thank you, beautiful]. “Did you see the little gift I left in there?” Miguel asked with a sparkle in his eye. You glanced down at your lap to see the postcard staring up at you. Your heart raced as you picked it up, admiring the picturesque image of Niagara Falls. You curiously flipped it over.
“Make sure to bring your raincoat ♥️”
You gasped and looked up.
“You mean…” your voice trailed off. Miguel smiled brightly and nodded.
“I was even able to book the same suite. It’s only for a long weekend, but I know those few days will be well spent with you, mi vida,” he cooed as he kissed your hand. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting up and wrapping your arms around your husband, your heart brimming with joy.
You’ll never forget that day he took you to Niagara Falls. It was a complete surprise when Miguel knelt down on the deck of your hotel room, the rumble of the falls filling your ears as he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him.
“Te amo mucho, gran oso,” you sniffed [I love you very much, big bear]. Miguel cupped your cheek before pressing another tender kiss to your lips.
“Te amo mucho, conejita,” Miguel beamed [I love you very much, little bunny]. You bit your lip as you pulled back and took your seat. Your heart pounded against your sternum as you pulled out the small box from your purse.
“My gift isn’t as big,” you said a little sheepishly. Miguel parted his lips as you handed the box to him.
“Oh, bebé. You know I’ll love any gift you give me,” he cooed [baby]. He leaned in closer. “Size doesn’t matter, right?” Miguel smirked. You rolled your eyes and laughed.
“Right…it’s how you use it,” you reply with a wry grin. Miguel shook his head as he chuckled.
“I love your quick wit, conejita,” your beloved hummed. You leaned forward on your elbows as you watched Miguel start to unwrap his gift. You bit your lip as he pulled the lid off with a quiet "pop". His eyes lit up when he saw a silver watch glisten beneath the dim candlelight. You squeezed your hands in your lap as he slipped it out of the box.
“Oh, hermosa,” Miguel breathed as he slid the watch against his wrist [beautiful]. You bit your lip a little harder as he admired it. “The very first gift you gave me,” he murmured softly. You nodded as you rubbed the back of your neck.
“I know you said that you’ve been meaning to get it fixed for a while, so I stopped by the jewelers last month,” you said. Miguel clasped the watch over his wrist, smiling as he observed the hands of the little clock tick by.
“Thank you so much, (Y/N),” Miguel smiled as he leaned forward. Your heart skipped a beat as you met him in the middle, your lips slowly caressing each other in a loving embrace. You sighed as he cupped your cheek, your heart fluttering as his warm lips sweetly brushed over yours. You pulled your head back when someone nearby cleared their throat.
“Your water, ma'am,” Mark said as he placed your glass onto the table. "Sir," he said to Miguel with a bit more flat tone. You slumped back in your chair before realizing you haven't even looked at the menu.
"We still need a few minutes," you said to your waiter.
"Of course," Mark said with a bright grin before excusing himself. You and Miguel relaxed as you opened your menus. You smiled at the way the candlelight flickered in Miguel’s soft, brown eyes.
Tonight couldn’t have been more perfect.
+++
You patted your napkin over your mouth before sinking into your seat with a satisfied smile.
“That was the best food I’ve had in a while,” you sighed happily. Your husband quirked one of his thick, dark brows.
“Even better than my cooking?” Miguel asked. Your eyes widened.
“Oh, um, well-“ your husband started to chuckle.
“Don’t worry, hermosa. I know my cooking’s terrible,” he snickered. You giggled.
“I mean, I was going to say something…” you lilted. Miguel placed a hand over his chest as if cradling a fresh wound.
“Ouch,” he replied.
“You said it, not me,” you shrugged before taking another sip of your wine. Miguel chuckled, his eyes half lidded as they raked over your form.
“I think this wine’s making us both a bit too bold,” Miguel smirked. Your cheeks warmed as he gently reached beneath the table and laid his hand on your knee. You bit your lip as a wave of heat swept through your core.
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” you replied with a low whisper. Just as Miguel tilted his head and leaned forward, Mark’s shadow loomed over the two of you.
“Your bill, sir,” he said as he set the paper down on the table. Your love made no effort to hide his annoyance as he took the receipt.
“Thanks,” your husband said. He pulled out his credit card after the server briskly walked away. Miguel sighed and rose from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered with quick peck to your cheek. You grinned and watched as he walked back into the restaurant.
+++
Miguel hummed as he strolled towards the restroom. It’s been so long since his heart has felt this full. Your smile, your laugh, the smooth, gentle touch of your lips against his all made him feel more complete. Miguel wore a bright grin as he pushed the restroom door wide open.
“Did you see the juicy ass on that chick sitting next to the balcony?” Mark loudly whispered. Miguel froze and lingered in the doorway when he saw two waiters at the urinals.
“Dude, I know. I’d love a piece of that cake…if you know what I mean,” the other server chortled. Miguel narrowed his eyes. Okay, there’s a lot of people out on the patio. Surely they weren’t-
“And that tight, black dress-fuck. Can’t imagine how those pretty tits would look while she’s-“
Both of them whipped their heads around when Miguel let the door slam behind him, a deadly glint flickering in his eyes as his jaw tightened.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said while straightening his shoulders. Mark frowned as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
“O-Oh,” he simply replied as he awkwardly shuffled in place. Miguel tilted his head, his muscles bulging beneath his crisp suit.
“H-Hey man. We didn’t mean any harm,” the other waiter said as he hastily zipped up his pants. Miguel scoffed and narrowed his eyes.
“Well, I suggest you speak about my wife with much more respect-or any woman for that matter,” he spat. Their faces grew cherry red as Miguel tugged on his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I’m going to go home and make love to my beautiful wife,” Miguel said as he tugged on his jacket. He scowled as he turned on his heel and stomped back outside.
+++
You blinked as Miguel strolled up to the table. To say he looked enraged would’ve been an understatement: his nostrils were flared, shoulders tensed and face glowing a bright cherry red.
“Miguel, what’s wrong?” you asked as you placed a hand on his large arm. Your husband paused as he glanced towards the glass doors. His eyes became half-lidded as he took your hand into his before pulling you up. You squeaked as he reached down and cupped his other palm against the globe of your ass.
“M-Miguel,” you said in a loud whisper as you nervously glanced around. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk as the waiter rushed up to your table. Mark’s hands trembled as he threw the credit card and receipt down.
“Thankyouhavealovelyevening!” he squeaked before running back into the building. You furrowed your brows before grabbing your things.
"I wonder what happened to him?" you wondered aloud as you slipped your cards into your purse. Your face glowed with heat as Miguel squeezed your supple ass with more force before guiding you across the patio.
“Miguel, people are looking,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the crowd.
“Let them look,” he replied with a low rumble as he opened the door for you. You tilted your head down as waiters, patrons, even the receptionist stared as your husband escorted you to the front of the building.
Miguel didn’t even need to say anything as the two of you made your way towards the valet stand, the man’s face beet red as you approached. He quickly snatched your keys and rushed to get your car, nearly tripping over the curb in the process. You glanced up at your beloved, his face twisted with even more fury than before. You bit your lip as you turned around and rested your hands on his chest.
“Miguel, bebé, please tell me what’s wrong,” you pleaded while rubbing your palms against his white button-up. Miguel’s shoulders remained stiff as you rubbed his chest, your bottom lip poking out every so slightly. "¿Por favor?" you asked [Please?]. He frowned and glanced away as the valet rolled up with your car and scrambled towards you.
“H-Have a good evening,” the man said, his face completely drained of all color. You gave the valet an apologetic smile before you slid into the black, polished car. The tension on the ride home was nearly unbearable. Miguel’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he kept his eyes on the road, his large hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale. The sound of soft jazz playing on the radio did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.
Did you do something wrong? Did he actually hate the gift you gave him? He put so much effort into booking the restaurant and the place the two of you stayed where he proposed to you…and what did you give him? A repaired watch.
You felt completely deflated by the time Miguel pulled up to your apartment complex.
“We’re home,” he said in a subdued voice. You nodded, your heart sinking into your stomach as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Your shoes clacked against the sidewalk as the two of you made your way to the front door.
“Evening, Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara,” the doorman Ben said.
"Evening, Ben," you said with a small smile. Your throat tightened when Miguel wrapped one of his bulky arms around you and pulled you to his side. You frowned as the two of you stepped inside, his grip unyielding as you walked into the elevator. You felt Miguel loosen his hold on you, allowing you some space to step back.
“Miguel, what-” you gasped when he pinned you against the wall and captured your mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss. Your breasts rubbed against your strapless bra as you felt him slide his tongue past your lips, his wet muscle tangling with yours as something hard poked at the inside of your thigh. You panted when he pulled back, his pupils blown and drinking in your curvaceous form.
“Y-You’re not mad at me?” you blinked. Your husband furrowed his dark brows.
“Mad? Why would I be mad at you, mi ángel?” Miguel purred as he rested his hands on your hips [my angel]. You gripped the lapels of his navy blue jacket as he began to grind his hard cock against your clothed pussy. You bit your lip as a pulse of arousal shot through your core.
“Te deseo, Mami,” your love groaned [I want you, Mommy]. You gasped as he rubbed his hard, throbbing cock against your crotch while he kneaded the supple flesh of your waist. “God, you have no idea how much I wanted to rip this dress off your body and fuck you right on that patio,” he rumbled and nipped at the shell of your ear. You shivered as Miguel trailed his lips over your pulse.
“Miguel,” you panted as he ground his hips against you, your clit throbbing against the fabric of your silky panties. Your husband pulled back as soon as the elevator dinged.
“Mi amor, por fa - te necesito,” he husked as he dipped his hand beneath your chin and tilted your head up [My love, please - I need you]. You felt your inhibitions quickly dissolve as a wave of heat pulsed through your core.
“Soy todo tuyo,” you whispered as you laid your hands over his chest [I’m yours]. You moaned as he bared his teeth against your neck and slid his hands over your plump ass. You squeaked and ducked your head into his broad shoulder when he slapped your rear, the slight sting sending ripples of arousal through your heat.
“I’m going to make sure you never forget this night,” Miguel growled as he kneaded your supple cheeks in his massive palms. Your heart raced as he picked you up by your waist and carried you into the penthouse. You dropped your purse on the tiled floor as you threaded your fingers through his dark, silky locks. Miguel groaned as your lips met in a passionate dance, your tongues gliding across one another with a soft squelch. You hungrily devoured each other’s mouths in a heated kiss as he kicked the bedroom door open. You squeaked at the sudden noise and tensed in his arms.
“Lo siento. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Miguel whispered, his plump lips dancing over yours [I’m sorry].
“It’s okay,” you murmured gently, your hands falling down to wrap around his thick neck. Your husband's eyes raked across your body as he laid you down on the plush, king-sized bed. You dug your nails into the back of his neck as he suckled over the nape of your neck, his deft fingers rolling the skirt of your dress over your hips. He sucked in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on your clothed sex.
“See what you do to me, bebé?” Miguel groaned before taking your hand and trailing it down his shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt the heavy, hard cock twitch against your palm. You bit your lip and mewled as your love nipped at your soft skin.
“Papi, fuck,” you gasped as he slid your thong to the side and rubbed at your slick, puffy folds with his digits. You husband rumbled as he spread your pussy lips apart with his thick fingers.
"Mm, tan mojada," Miguel groaned with a smirk [so wet].
"Please, Miguel," you swallowed thickly as you spread your legs as much as you could. Your husband licked his lips as he locked eyes with you.
"Don't worry, baby. Just need to make sure you're stretched out for my cock first," he rumbled. Your mouth opened in a silent moan when he suddenly sank two of his thick digits inside your tight, weeping hole.
“Oh my God!” you shivered and gripped the sheets as he curled his fingertips against your sensitive, spongey g-spot. Your gummy walls clenched around his two digits as Miguel chuckled. He parted his lips as he massaged your hip, his eyes lit with a deep, primal hunger.
“That’s it, bebé. Keep making those pretty noises for me,” Miguel grunted as relentlessly thrusted his fingers inside your plush cunt. Your eyes widened as he kissed down your chest and stomach before hovering his lips over your mound.
“S-Shit!” you moaned and arched your back as your husband dipped his head down and eagerly suckled on your bundle of nerves. Miguel grunted against your juicy slit, your arousal smearing over his broad chin as you ground your hips against his face. “M-Miguel, baby,” you groaned as your love flattened his warm tongue over your engorged bud.
“Tan bueno - sabe tan bien,” he growled against your wet folds before lapping at your clit [So good - tastes so good]. Tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as Miguel continued to fuck your tight pussy with his thick fingers.
“Bebé,” you choked as you felt his digits stretch you out while he swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers inside you again, letting the intoxicating pressure linger for much longer.
“Make a mess on my face, Mami,” your husband urged with a low growl. A high-pitched cry left your swollen lips as Miguel eagerly pumped his fingers in and out of your tight, slick hole, the tension in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter.
“S-Sí Papi - just like that,” you encouraged him as you fisted the crisp bedsheets. Miguel groaned as your arousal dripped down his chin and neck, his tongue painting bold, wet stripes from your stuffed hole and all the way up to your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his fingers even faster while puckering his lips around your bundle of nerves.
“M-Miguel!” you squealed when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole puckering and begging for more. A bolt of pleasure struck through you when he started to hastily unbuckle his belt.
“Lo siento, mi vida. I can’t wait anymore,” Miguel growled as he shoved his slacks and briefs down in one swift motion. Your cunt fluttered when you saw his thick, heavy cock spring free, a thick bead of precum adorning his flush tip. Your husband's eyes remained on your dripping cunt as he shoved his jacket and white button-up onto the floor. Your mouth watered as you stared at the mortal Adonis standing in front of you, his rippling muscles tensing as he pumped his girthy shaft.
You gasped as he quickly climbed on top of you and cupped his palms against the back of your knees. You squealed when Miguel pushed your legs towards your shoulders, your puffy tummy poking out as he nearly folded you in half.
“Ah!” you cried as he slammed his cock inside you in one fluid thrust. Your legs tensed in his grip as you tried to adjust to the sudden fullness inside you, his girth stretching your tight hole with a delicious burn.
“Eyes on me, conejita,” Miguel murmured, his hot breath falling over your face and neck. You glanced through the sheet of tears that blurred your vision, your body quaking with pleasure as you felt the head of his cock kiss your cervix.
“I want you to make as much noise as you'd like. Don't worry about the neighbors...for tonight, it's just the two of us. Okay, Mami?” Miguel rasped before nipping the shell of your ear. You whined as your walls ached for the sweet drag of his veiny cock. You nodded vigorously as you bit your lip, the heaviness of his cock deliciously weighing in your tight hole.
"Such a good little wife," Miguel grunted as he pulled his taut hips back. Your heart skipped a beat as Miguel rested his forehead against yours before he sheathed his cock down to the hilt.
“Fuck!" you choked as you felt the slight sting of his cock molding your walls to its shape.
“God, I love how your tight, perfect pussy grips me,” Miguel murmured as he rocked his hips back and forth. His breath hitched as your walls squeezed his veiny shaft. Your cheeks burned as he wrapped his lips around yours while he thrusted into you at a rapid, sloppy pace.
“M-Miguel!” you screamed and wrung your hands in the sheets as your lover pounded into your cunt, each drag of his cock deliciously stretching you out more and more. You squealed as Miguel squeezed the back of your knees, his balls slapping against your plump asscheeks. You shivered as he released a deep growl, his cock throbbing and twitching between your swollen, gummy walls.
“R-Right there Papi!” you yelled as the bulbous head of his cock perfectly grazed over your g-spot. You threw your head back as your husband leaned forward and wrapped his lips around yours while he desperately pounded into your raw cunt.
“So good, so good to me," he panted. You moaned as you felt your cunt already starting to clamp down on his shaft.
“M-Miguel, wait! I’m gonna-” you were cut off when he pressed his lips to your neck, his hips snapping against yours and making your thick asscheeks clap loudly.
“Cum for me, conejita,” he grunted. Your bottom lip trembled as the tight knot in your belly suddenly snapped.
“MIGUEL!” you screamed as your slick walls clenched around his girth. Miguel’s thrusts stuttered as your pussy squeezed his cock in a vice grip, your slick gushing past the stuffed seam of your raw, tight cunt.
“Mierda,” your husband breathed as you unraveled beneath him [Shit]. You babbled as your cunt pulsed; every contraction sending an overwhelming wave of bliss over your trembling form. You moaned as Miguel continued to thrust his cock inside your weeping cunt, your arousal sticking to the front of his thighs as he groaned above you. Hot tears rolled down your puffy cheeks when Miguel suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.
“Miguel?” you breathed as your heart raced. Your squealed as your husband pulled you up and wrapped his arms beneath your knees.
“Unphase the blinds to level zero,” Miguel rumbled. Your eyes widened as he lifted you up and immediately sheathed you down on his stiff cock, your slick pussy swallowing his length whole.
“¡P-Papi!” you gasped as he carried you over to your wide bedroom windows, the holographic blinds slowly fading to reveal the neon glow of Nueva York. Your thighs shook in his bulky arms as he froze just inches from the window. Your heart raced as you gazed at the lewd reflection of yourself in the crystal glass, your hot breath fogging against the clear surface.
Your jaw went slack as Miguel started to thrust into your wet heat, your gushing cunt squelching with each snap of his hips.
“Look down there, mi amor. Look at all those men who will never be able to fuck you like I do,” he rasped as he bounced you on his shaft. Your eyes glazed over as you gazed down at the streets below. You’d be more embarrassed had you not just cum on your husband’s dick…but there was a tiny part of you that indulged in being claimed by your beloved. “They’ll never get to hear your pretty moans, feel your soft, perfect pussy grip their cocks,” Miguel growled as he nipped at your neck. You dug your nails into his forearm as he pounded into your cunt with no restraint, his breathing growing ragged and arms tensing beneath your legs.
“Say you’re mine, (Y/N),” he groaned before puckering his lips over your pulse. You moaned as shook in his hold as you tried to swim through the haze of your ecstasy.
“I-I’m yours, Papi!” you screamed. You gasped as Miguel raked his teeth over your hickey.
“Who do you belong to?!” he snarled. You sobbed as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock with.
“I belong to you, Miguel!” you moaned loudly. You mewled as your arousal leaked onto the floor.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” your husband groaned as he kissed your cheek before thrusting even faster.
“Mmmm-Miguel,” you slurred. You screamed silently as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, the slight sting mixing with the intoxicating pleasure that rippled through your core. Your throat tightened as his cock dragged along your soft walls, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs and gliding over your jiggling asscheeks.
“Gonna cum for me again, hm?” Miguel husked before tracing the tip of his tongue across the fresh bite mark.
“S-Sí, Papi,” you whined. You felt him smirk against your shoulder as he kept you in front of the window, your heart racing at the thought of someone seeing the two of you in such an intimate position. You moaned as his thrusts began to falter, his hot breath falling over your exposed skin.
“M-Mig-!” you shouted as your vision was flooded with white.
“Yes, that’s it Mami. S-Soak this fat fucking cock with your sweet cum,” your husband rasped as you threw your head against his shoulder.
“Fuck,” you sobbed as a wave of pleasure rushed through your heat, your pussy squirting all over his massive, swollen cock. Miguel groaned as he squeezed your legs.
“So close,” he hissed through gritted teeth as his cock twitched inside your fluttering walls. You gripped your hands over his as your body jiggled with every powerful snap of his hips.
“Por fa Papi…fill me,” you whispered breathily. Miguel grunted against your neck as he slammed you down on his cock for the last time. Both of you moaned as he painted your slick walls white with thick, heavy ropes of his seed. You felt Miguel shiver behind you as his cock throbbed, his warm cum splashing against your swollen cervix.
“Yes,” Miguel growled deeply as he kept your back pressed to his chest. You swallowed thickly and shuddered as his cock began to soften inside you, thick beads of his cum swelling and dripping down the curve of your ass. The air was filled with your deep, heavy breaths, your bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat.
“That was…wow,” you didn’t even have the mental capacity to describe what just happened. Miguel chuckled softly and nodded.
“Yeah,” he grinned and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You squealed as he gave your legs another gentle squeeze. “Activate blinds to ten,” Miguel called out. The windows soon fogged up with the holographic blinds again as he took a step back. Your eyelids began to grow heavy as he carried you to bed. You whimpered when your giant husband laid both of you down, his cock softening between your raw, oversensitive walls. You sighed as you felt his hands mindlessly wander across your body, his lips grazing your neck every so often.
“Do you want to take a shower?” Miguel murmured as his lips dancing over your pulse. You sighed.
“Actually, could we just stay here for a little bit?” you asked and slightly turned his face. The corners of your husband’s eyes crinkled as he gave you a gentle smile.
“Of course, mi amor,” he purred and pecked your lips. You returned his grin as he kept you against his chest, his large, bulky arms wrapped around you like a cozy cocoon. You kissed his bulging bicep before tracing your fingertips across the many dips and curves of his arm. Miguel sighed as he nuzzled his face against your neck, his warm breath tickling over your pulse.
“Te amo mucho, (Y/N),” your beloved whispered before gently kissing your cheek. You sighed as you relished in the way his lips lingered on your skin while you closed your eyes.
“Te amo mucho, Miguel,” you murmured softly.
----
Thank you for reading! 💖
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lethalchiralium · 1 year
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Glass Houses | Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader
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a/n: look, i’m not ignoring anything (i am) i just couldn’t get this out of my head haha
warnings: fluff and angst 🫶
summary: It’s finally time for Gabi’s quinceañera, something Miguel had finally allowed her to have.
MASTERLIST
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Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi was having the best night of her young life.
Picture after picture, her pearly white smile was as bright as daylight. Her friends surrounded her, her uncles and aunts from both parents celebrated her quinceañera. It was the night she had been looking forward to, the night she had been begging you and her father for.
“Gabi,” He shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel was tight. “I told you we’ll think about it.”
“Papa, every girl I know gets a quince-“
“Gabi, lo digo en serio-“ Your hand settled on Miguel’s thigh gently, he took in a breath, growing frustrated with traffic and with himself. He spared a glance to you, your eyes on the road, but that still didn’t stop you from looking to him. “Mi vida, help me here.”
Your fingertips tapped his thigh, you turned to look over your shoulder at your darling daughter, still wiping off mud from that day’s practice. You glanced to Miguel as his hand slid down to settle on top of yours, fingers curled around your palm. Your husband has always trusted your judgement.
You squeezed his thigh before you responded, “Baby, Papa’s already doing so much for us. You need to give him time to get it worked out, it’s not a yes or no until he says so.”
The fourteen year old’s expression dropped, her body slumped into her seat. You frowned. “Why does he get to pick all of the sudden? You always set the rules, Mama-“
“Cuida tu tono con tu madre, Gabi.” His tone was calm, you could feel the bite of his words and watch how Gabi looked out the window in response. You deflated a little, you didn’t want to tell your perfect daughter that what little money you and Miguel had was running out. “Siempre escuchamos a mamá.” You squeezed Miguel’s thigh again, your eyes moved to gaze at the side profile you had memorized years ago.
“Mama, por favor,” You looked back to Gabi, your heart strings were tugged hard when you looked at her saddened expression.
A sigh escaped you before you turned forwards, the traffic now flowing much better. “Papa and I will talk about it.”
You watched your baby and her friends, all of them chatting away and laughing like hyenas. She was gorgeous, she looked truly happy; she spared a glance towards you, her smile so contagious that it made yours even wider. She was the spitting image of her father, just without the fangs. She waved a little, you waved back.
“We don’t have the money for it.” You whispered, arms tucked in between you and Miguel’s chest, fingertips gently tapping on his warm skin just below his collarbone. Your eyes could only watch your red fingernails as they drummed an unfamiliar melody into your husband’s skin.
He was watching you, it wasn’t hard for you to tell. His hand settled on your hip, the arm around your back gently stroked your shoulder blades with light fingertips.
“I’ll pick up more hours at Alchemax.”
“The mortgage is too much, Mig. I can get my job back-“
“No. Your back is still injured from the accident.” The car accident you had three months ago, where you were slammed into and your car thrown off the bridge by the momentum, only to be saved by Spider-Man. It was terrifying, he took you right down to the hospital without a word before he left you on a gurney; your husband appeared only moments later as the medical team took you inside, his breathing panicked as he took your hand, he was terrified. That look was one you could never get out of your head, even as you stared at his rising chest. “It will only be for a couple of months. It’s important for Gabi.”
“It’s important for Gabi.” You echoed, your nail caught on the small silver chain around his neck, the small locket glimmered in the low light.
Miguel is a generous man, and a man who truly adored his daughter.
Your daughter pranced over to your table, her smile much larger than you had even seen her make. You held out your hands, she instantly took them. “Mi niña, is it okay? Are you having fun?”
“It’s perfect, Mama.” Her arms were around your neck in an instant, a kiss from her on your head made your smile rival hers. She moved away, her pretty curls bouncing as her friends welcomed her back with huge smiles and infectious laughter.
You looked over to Miguel’s empty seat, heart sinking into your stomach. Being Spider-Man has made him lose so much important time with his family, but you understood why he put on the suit. You understood why when he told you that rainy night, you finally understood that you weren’t just a lucky survivor of small villain incident, he was always watching over you - even when he couldn’t be here for Gabi’s quinceañera.
You took a drink of your wine, hoping to put a damper on your growing sadness. You watched her Uncle Gabriel help take the beautiful white chair out to the middle of the dance floor, soft rose colored balloons tied to it and beautiful pink flowers wrapped around the back. Gabi was so excited, her gaze went back to you as she mouthed, “Love you.”
You blew her a kiss as the dance floor cleared, allowing her to sit down in the chair with her beautiful dress - her beautiful face bright with a smile. Your grip on your wine glass loosened as her Uncle Gabriel started the Changing of the Shoes ceremony - your own eyes felt pricks of pain as you fought back tears. You were only twenty feet away, your phone now in your hand was you took the video of the ceremony. She was laughing, happy - her flats being removed and replaced with the rose gold heels she had begged Miguel to buy months prior, but he had refused. And here they were, now placed on your daughter’s feet as her transition into becoming a young woman.
Tears of joy feel from your eyes as she stood, her smile still so large and the chair taken away. The song changed, your smile faltered.
“Gabi,” Miguel called. Your hand held his, his thumb gently raked over your index finger. He had spent many long nights, saving what money he could and taking odd jobs, all in between his duty as Spider-Man. His heart was warm, he had asked many favors with promises of repayment to set up his wonderful daughter’s quinceañera - more money than he wanted to pay, if at all, but he loved his child eternally. This was her one big wish for years, he had always said no since money was an issue. Even as a highly paid geneticist, his money was being drained by hospital bills, his mortgage, and his ailment of constantly needing venom to stay alive. But, giving her this meant she was growing up, and he was finally ready to help her out of her flats and into those high heels he knew were her favorite, then waltz around a big dance floor with his little girl who would be happier than ever.
She bounded down the staircase, hair a mess from practice as she tore off her headband, she smiled, “¿Qué pasa?” She was quick to sit on the floor in front of the couch, where you and Miguel were comfortably sitting. Your smile has always been gorgeous to Miguel, but in that moment, your smile infected him like a virus. You were so excited to see Gabi grow up, so excited to give her what she wanted.
Gabi was sobbing by the time Miguel had told her about the party, she hugged him so tight before kissing his cheek, then diving into you. You wrapped your arms around her with that beautiful smile on your face, moving your daughter back and forth with excitement.
That moment was a direct contrast to what he had confessed to you in private later that night, after he had finally found the courage to tell you his deepest secret. The look of horror on your face made Miguel’s stomach drop, the tears made him nauseous.
“You’re Spider-Man?”
He nodded for the second time, hand still holding yours. You didn’t remove it, your free hand came to cover your mouth.
“I wanted you to know. The ‘odd jobs’ I’ve been doing have been me being Spider-Man, people give me money to keep it up.” He whispered, terror in his heart as you just… stared.
“What will happen if I lose you?”
Miguel could only smile, his free hand came up to your cheek, resting upon it as he whispered, “Nunca me perderás, querida.”
Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi stood in the middle of the dance floor, ready for her last dance of the night before her 15 Candle Ceremony. It was her father’s idea to have the dance near the end of the ceremony, he was never one to want too much attention. The girl stood in the middle of the floor, eyes watching her father’s smile come closer and closer to her.
The crystal-like tears hit her beautiful dress, her manicured hands grasped onto the dark mahogany of the frame that displayed the photo of her smiling deceased father, Miguel O’Hara.
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Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.
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x-gon-give-it · 9 months
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Thinking about how much Peter loves his wife tonight
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Dreaming about them 🥰
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emichevy · 1 year
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NOIR HEAD CANONS PART 3 ISH??
I can’t stop drawing these help me I promise I’ll make something different with the others HABSGGA
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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year
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They deserve some kind of Award
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miguelswifey04 · 1 year
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(Somewhat inspired by your quantum stuff post) you're pregnant and you realize that the baby gets really active whenever Miguel talks, so you get him talking about something for like 15 minutes so you can feel your little one kick inside you
YES SOOO CUTE
miguel o’hara x pregnant wife! reader
as you lie in bed, feeling the gentle movements of your growing belly, you notice a pattern. each time miguel speaks, your baby becomes incredibly active. it’s as if the sound of his voice brings the little one to life inside you. intrigued by this newfound discovery, you decide to indulge in the sensation.
“miguel," you call out sweetly, enticing him to join you on the bed. "i have something to tell you." he raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "well, mi amor, i’m all ears. what do you want to share?" you take a moment to settle into a comfortable position, propping yourself up with pillows and inviting him to sit by your side. "have you noticed something interesting? our baby seems to get really active whenever you talk."
miguel grin widens, his eyes sparkling with delight. "is that so? well then, i guess i have the power to summon our precious baby. let’s put it to the test." you giggle and lean against his side, resting your head on his shoulder. "so, tell me about your day, miguel. what adventures did you get yourself into?"
he chuckles, his deep voice reverberating through your body. "oh, you know me, love. i had a run-in with some low-level criminals today. they didn't stand a chance against me and my spider-like abilities. i had them webbed up before they even knew what hit them." you listen eagerly, engrossed in his storytelling. as miguel continues to regale you with tales of his escapades, you feel it. a little flutter, a soft kick against the inside of your belly. your eyes widen with excitement, and you press a hand against your stomach, feeling the movements grow stronger with each word that falls from miguel’s lips.
he notices your reaction and pauses, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "did you feel that, cariño? our little one is dancing in there, isn't she?"you nod, a smile spreading across your face. "yes, miguel. it’s amazing. keep talking. i want to feel more." and so, for the next fifteen minutes, miguel talks. he talks about his adventures, his dreams, his hopes for the future. he whispers sweet words of love and devotion, his voice becoming a lullaby that soothes not only you but also the tiny life growing within you.
with each passing moment, the kicks and movements become more pronounced, as if the baby is responding to every word, every sentiment shared. it’s a beautiful connection, a testament to the bond between the three of you. as the time comes to an end, miguel falls silent, simply cherishing the sight of you, your swollen belly, and the life that blossoms within it. he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your stomach, a silent promise of love and protection.
“i can't wait to meet you, little one," he whispers, a hint of tears in his eyes. "we’ll be a family, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” you rest your hand on his cheek, a content smile on your face. "and i’ll be here with you, miguel. always." together, you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, knowing that this bond, this love, will only grow stronger as your journey continues.
tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit
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florencemtrash · 1 year
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Hummingbird: Chapter Three
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?
Masterlist
Warnings: Terrible science jargon
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It was almost silly how quickly the world returned to normal.
Alchemax was splashed on every local newspaper, website, social media account, and TV channel for a solid week before complaints shifted to the neverending construction on the streets of New York. The subway somehow got tighter, packed bodies grumbling about the thirty minutes added to their commute after ten subway cars had fallen through a spot and landed in the Hudson river. 
But the events never faded away from your consciousness. The only way you could fall asleep was by leaving all the lights on. It racked up your electric bill like hell, but you couldn’t stand seeing the shadows creep along the wall as nighttime descended on the city - it reminded you too much of the Spot’s blank face and how he managed to stare into your soul without eyes.
Then there was the growing problem of your forgetfulness. You’d never been the best at keeping track of belongings - Mamá always blamed it on your creative brain - but now everything was being misplaced. The alarm clock would disappear from the nightstand and appear in the kitchen, your sock collection was dwindling every day and never making it into the dirty hamper, for Christ’s sake you still hadn’t found your favorite yellow sneakers and it was irritating you to hell and back. 
I’m losing my goddamn mind. You often found yourself thinking.
You threw yourself into work, staying in the classroom late to grade and lesson plan until the night crew got used to vacuuming around your feet. You took on extra projects at the Academy, signing up to run after-school detention and volunteering for props and set design for this year’s spring musical “The Addams Family.”
Anything to stay out of your apartment. Anything to keep you from being alone.
Three empty coffee cups mocked your bleary eyes as you sat hunched over the sewing machine after hours. Cheap black lace trailed off the table, slowly shortening as you incorporated the material into Morticia’s dress.
“Fuck!” You hissed in pain and stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking away the blood from your fourth needle prick of the night. At this rate you’d have more holes punched into you than swiss cheese.
It was time to give up for tonight.
Before you could forget you slipped the stolen Brooklyn Visions Academy uniform from your bag and hid it in the bottom-most cubby in the storage room. The sleeping bag and pillow from your apartment were also stuffed there, ready for Miles to use whenever he needed an extra break from being a superhero. You suspected Gwen had also been sneaking by to visit Miles now that she had more freedom to explore the multiverse - hence the spare uniform.
“How’s he doing?” You’d asked Miles earlier that day. Miguel’s unspoken name had lingered on the tip of your tongue, forcing the color to rise into your cheeks. Luckily Miles knew exactly who you were talking about.
A knowing grin grew on his face, “Not too bad. He seems more on edge than usual, but I hear he’s working on his temper.” 
“He’s not body slamming any more teenagers?” 
“Not that I know of.”
“Good.” You paused, “If he gives you any more trouble, send him my way. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.” 
Miles saluted you, “You got it.”
You meant it as a joke… but you also wanted a reason to see him again.
You were just about to switch the light off in your classroom when a flash of yellow caught your eye. Tucked behind a stack of newsprint, the vine charcoal rubbing away on your fingers as you carefully lifted the papers, was your prized pair of yellow converse.
It was too late to think about how they’d ended up so far from home, so you tossed them in your bag, threw out the coffee cups, and saved your muddled mind the trouble of figuring it out tonight.
The midnight subway car was filled with the usual Friday-night suspects - overworked nurses, loners just killing time, drunk party goers covered in more glitter than a kindergartener’s Valentine’s day card, and you.
You didn’t miss Richard, not really. What you really missed was coming home to someone and the feeling of another body weighing down the right side of the bed. More recently you’d been imagining what it would be like to come home to Miguel.
You kicked off your shoes at the bottom of the landing, shuffling up the steps and pulling off your clothes as you went, modesty be damned. By the time you face planted on your bed, hair still damp from the shower, it was nearing 2am and Miguel still hadn’t left your mind. He’d planted himself in your thoughts like a spider too high up on a wall for you to squash and too large for you to ignore.
Mercifully you didn’t have to endure the pains of a schoolgirl crush for very long. Sleep dragged you under and you welcomed it as your mind finally went quiet.
You awoke with a start, suffocating under the heavy blankets that you’d buried yourself in last night. You’d been dreaming again about the collider. You’d been dreaming about Miguel - this time in a feverish haze that left your mind in a puddle on the floor. 
How was it possible that a stranger could occupy so much space in your mind? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d held you like you were everything and then left without saying goodbye.
But you weren’t complete strangers…
“Aren’t you his wife?” 
Miles had asked the question so innocently and Miguel hadn’t said anything against it, so it must be true. Somewhere, in some other universe, you’d been married to one another. 
Are you thinking about me too? You wondered, opening your eyes in hopes of chasing the memory of him away.
…Maybe you were still dreaming, because the last time you checked you hadn’t fallen asleep under a tree in Central Park. And even if you had, you highly doubted you could have lugged your mattress and bed frame with you all the way from Brooklyn.
Oh por el amor de Dios.
The glorious thing about New York City is that everyone knew how to mind their own business. So when people saw a high school art teacher in Star Wars pjs leap for joy upon finding a $5 bill on the ground, they didn’t question it.
You were so ecstatic about saving yourself the two-and-a-half hour walk back to Brooklyn that you didn’t remember a highly important piece of information until after you hopped off the subway - you didn’t have your keys or your phone.
Joder. 
Your forehead knocked against the front door of your apartment building with an audible clunk.
“Por el amor de la mierda, ¿por qué mi vida es así?” You muttered under your breath. 
“Y/n?” Your landlord, Mrs. Fleming, pushed her tortoise-shell glasses higher up on her face, the thick lenses magnifying her eyes to bug-like proportions. “Oh it is you, my dear.” 
You groaned, color rushing into your cheeks as you turned around sheepishly. “Good morning, Mrs. Fleming.” 
The elderly woman gave you a once-over look, crocheting needles clicking together as she rummaged around in her bag for her keys, “The old walk of shame, I see.” 
“What?! Wait, no-this isn’t-I’m not-”
She patted you on the back before unlocking the door and holding it open for you, “I only use the turn of phrase because that’s what you young folks call it. Ain’t nothing shameful in it. It’s good of you to get out there. I never did like Richard much.”
You were at a loss for words.
Mrs. Fleming, sprightly as she was for her age, followed you up to your apartment with her extra set of keys jingling merrily in her hands.
“Now, you have a good rest of your weekend, dear.” She said once you’d been graciously let into your apartment, “And don’t forget your keys next time!” 
“Thanks Mrs. Fleming.” You said. Her amused chuckle echoed through the air as she shuffled off to her own apartment.
You sprawled out on the ground where your bed should have been, trying to even out your breathing as the reality of the morning’s events crashed down around you like a house of cards. 
This can’t be happening. ¿Qué diablos me pasa?
You rolled onto your stomach, repeatedly banging your face into a spare pillow to muffle the sound of your aggravated screams. 
The pillow accepted your frustration with little complaint until something in you just snapped. 
All at once the pillow disappeared from beneath you and then blinked into existence by the closet allowing your face to crash into the floor unprotected.
You grabbed at your burning nose, eyes swimming with tears of pain as you registered what had happened. 
“No… oh no.” 
>>>
The rain beat down irregularly, fluctuating back and forth from being barely a drizzle to a torrential downpour. 
You gripped an empty to-go cup in your hand, the tea you’d hoped would calm your nerves long gone. 
It took you three hours to make it here. First you kept teleporting your keys away every time you touched them, futilely chasing them around the apartment. Then you’d nearly gotten hit by a taxi and teleported yourself to the bathroom of a tea shop on the Upper West Side. Miraculously your powers had quieted after that, allowing you to get on the subway and here without incident.
A familiar figure made its way down the block, hood up to protect from the rain.
“Miles!” You leapt up from your seat, racing across the street to the annoyed honking of two taxis. 
“Miss Y/l/n? How’re you doing?” Miles narrowed his eyes in worry, seeing the way your fingers nervously pulled at a loose string from your sweater, “What happened to your face?” The flesh around your nose was red and tender, slowly transforming into a purple bruise.
“I’m sorry for bothering you like this, but I didn’t know where else to go.” You looked around carefully before lifting the cup in the palm of your hand.
You furrowed your brow in concentration, willing that same power within you to snap into place again.
“What’s supposed to-” 
“Just-just give me a minute.”
A minute passed, and nothing. Your heartbeat quickened as you grew more and more flustered.
“Miss Y/l/n are you sure you’re ok?” Skepticism and genuine concern laced his voice.
“I’m fine!” 
Snap!
The cup blinked out of existence like an old-school television that had been turned off. Miles saw it reappear over the park across the street and land on a dog walker’s head. The man in question looked up at the sky bewildered, like he expected to find God there.
Miles’s wide eyes met yours.
“Oh shit.” 
He pulled you into the empty alleyway behind his building, using his spider webs to straighten the trash cans that rolled around on the ground and clear out a space large enough for the two of you to comfortably stand side by side. 
He hung close to the street, Gwen’s face shimmering to life above his wrist as he spoke with his back turned to you.
“Hey, Gwen. I’ve got a situation.” He whispered into the watch.
You caught snippets of their conversation, shrinking in your coat as you tried to suppress the anxiety growing in your chest. If there was anything you’d learned about your powers it was that they tended to flare up with your emotions.
“Do you think we can trust him with this? I don’t want anything to happen to her… Yeah, yeah. No, I understand. I’ll bring her in. See you later.” 
Miles turned back to you, a strained smile on his face, “Sorry about that.”
“Miles, what’s going on?” “I got to bring you into Spidey HQ. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Miguel might.” 
He unzipped his raincoat and hoodie, exposing the black and red spider-suit beneath and tugging on his mask. 
Your heart gave a flip at the mention of your husband’s name (could you even call him that?). Would he be happy to see you again? Would things be awkward between the two of you?
A familiar watch flashed on his wrist as he began pressing buttons on the orange holographic screen. You’d seen it happen before, a portal of wild glitching colors pulsing to life in front of you, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Miles stepped into it, dragging you along with him like he was just passing through any regular doorway.
He swept his arm outward, smiling at the expression on your face.
“Welcome to Spidey HQ, Miss Y/l/n.”
Your jaw dropped as you passed through the portal - an actual portal - to Miguel’s dimension. 
Hundreds, no thousands, of Spider-People roamed the open air halls, some on two legs, some on four, some on wheels, and some just preferred to swing through the air on webs, catching and releasing the nimble strings with practiced grace from the walkways that crossed overhead like… well like a spider’s web. 
Miguel certainly hadn’t wasted the spider concept when it came to their headquarters.
“I didn’t know there was a universe composed entirely of Spider-Men…Spider-People?… Spider…” A cat hissed at your feet when you nearly stepped on its tail as you blindly followed Miles through the crowd, “Spider-Things?” 
“Sorry Spider-Cat!” Miles said as the feline grumbled, tail high in the air as it calmly leapt onto the wall and continued on its way as though gravity were only an inconvenience. 
“Actually, every world has only one Spider-Person, but the Alchemax explosion last year ended up opening holes into other universes. Miguel created this place as a hub for Spider-People while everyone tries to fix the anomalies.”
“Anomalies?”
“Yeah, beings that have accidentally gotten stuck in another world.”
“Oh… yeah that makes total sense..” Your words trailed off as a roaring laugh caught your attention, “Is that… is that a dinosaur?” 
You pointed at the group crowded around a cafeteria table howling with laughter. Burgers bounced on trays as the T-Rex doubled over to slap the table for dramatic effect.
“AY YO, REXA!” Miles shouted over your head, throwing his arms up wildly. 
Rexa exposed razor sharp teeth in a grin and waved one short arm towards you. You returned a meek wave in return. 
“That’s Rexa. She’s super funny. Just uh…” he covered his mouth before whispering in your ear, “Maybe don’t mention anything about her arms. She gets a little sensitive.”
“Oh…yeah, of course. No problem.” 
Miles continued to lead you through the building, periodically taking breaks for you to catch up as you kept your eyes trained on everything except the path he’d carved in front of you. At one point you simply disappeared from view, reappearing four stories up in a psychiatrist’s office.
A tweed-suited Spider-Man jumped in his seat, dropping the box of tissues he’d been preparing to throw to his client. 
“Oh! I… I’m so sorry.” You said, flustered at the sight of a sandy haired Peter Parker variant sobbing his eyes out into a spider plushie. You inched along the wall towards the door, “I’m just-I’m just going to make my way out.”
You closed the door as quietly as possible, turning around and coming face to face with Miles again. You jumped and snapped, this time landing on Rexa’s table, foot squishing her burger into roadkill.
You groaned and tilted your head up, watching Miles sail out the office window and swing his way down. 
This was going to take a while.
There was no shortage of Spiderpeople to steal your attention, but finally after a few (uninterrupted) turns down pristine white hallways and an elevator ride into the belly of Spidey HQ, it was just you and Miles again.
From his lair, Miguel traced your figure with his eyes. When you caught sight of the camera in the elevator, its red pupil narrowing in on you, you smiled sheepishly and waved. The small action made his stomach flip like a schoolboy who’d been given his first kiss. 
He needed to pull himself together before he saw you face to face again.
“I’m just saying, I think this is a good thing, Miguel.” Peter B. said, swinging up to the platform and wrapping an arm around Miguel’s broad shoulders. Mayday crawled out and onto the control board, pressing buttons haphazardly and closing half the screens. She clapped her hands in wonder and Miguel grumbled half-heartedly. 
Once she started walking, all bets were off. She’d be an absolute menace to Spider Society. Already she liked to treat Miguel like her personal playscape, crawling onto his shoulders and tugging at his brown curls. 
Her antics almost made him smile… almost.
“If she’s here then that can only mean something’s wrong.” Miguel said, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and ignoring Mayday as she slumped over his back, slowly sliding down his chest and into his waiting arms with a dramatic sigh. 
You looked tired and nervous, fingers tugging at the strings of your raincoat. A purple bruise spread out from your nose, moving with the curve of your cheekbones. Had someone hurt you? 
Miguel’s blood began to boil.
“Or,” Peter bumped his hips against Miguel’s, “it could mean she wants to see you again.” 
“Stop that.” Miguel growled.
“Stop what?”
Stop giving me hope.
Miguel was about to bite back at Peter and wipe the mischievous grin on his face when the doors slid open. Miles’s voice rang through the empty space. 
“These are all those anomalies I was telling you about. Doc Oc, Rhino, Sandman, Mysterio. I don’t even want to know who that is.” 
“Why is it so dark in here?”
“Miguel likes to brood. I think he’s part vampire.” 
Miguel tossed Mayday into her father’s arms, swiftly turning around and busying himself at the control panel to distract from the pounding of his heart. A dozen screens flashed to life above the control board and Miguel concentrated on none of them.
Peter grinned like a madman. This was going great. 
“Miss Y/n!” He shouted out, throwing his hands in the air before hopping off the platform. Mayday squealed in delight and copied his actions. Miguel only cursed under his breath and rubbed his temples. Leave it to Peter to be the cause of 90% of his headaches.
“Looking good, teach!” 
“Ummm… thanks?” You responded as Mayday grabbed at you with chubby fingers. You didn’t have much choice but to hold her as Peter thrust her into your arms. Fear jolted through you like a lightning strike and you quickly handed her off to Miles, the poor girl frowning and continuing to make grabbing motions at you. The last thing you wanted was to make Mayday disappear from your arms.
Peter tipped his head to the side but for once made no comment. He continued to chat you up, pulling small smiles from your lips and ignoring the way you kept glancing at Miguel as his platform slowly lowered to the ground. 
He had his hands on his hips, bright red and blue Spider-suit cutting a striking silhouette against the dark background. 
If he’d noticed you walking into the room, he didn’t show it and you tried your best not to deflate at that realization. 
“Don’t worry. He just likes to make an entrance,” Miles whispered in your ear. And some entrance that was. He stepped off the platform, back tight and straight as he moved forward with measured, even footsteps. 
Miles took one step forward, angling his body in front of you with a weariness in his eyes. 
Miguel stopped, face betraying nothing as he looked you up and down once.
“I never thought I’d see you again.” The words would have sounded romantic coming from someone else’s lips, but from him they just sounded dry and clinical.
“Same here.” You said. The words came out breathlessly.
“What’s happened?”
His hand hovered in the air between you two before he swiftly dropped it to his side. He wanted to reach out and touch your face. He wanted to tilt your chin upwards so he could take a good look at the damage done to your nose and make sure you were ok. Perhaps if you’d been alone he would have allowed himself to do it, but as it was, they had company. 
“We need your help, Miguel.” Miles cut through the tension, “Something’s up with Miss Y/l/n. She’s got powers now - teleportation similar to the Spot’s.” 
His heart stuttered in his chest.
“Is that true?” he said, desperately looking to you for answers. The Spot’s powers had made him unstable in more ways than one and Miguel shivered to think about anything happening to you.
You nodded, “Things keep disappearing when I touch them. Sometimes I accidentally teleport to places when I’m frustrated. I didn’t realize what was going on until I woke up in Central Park last night.”
Miguel turned around, muttering under his breath as his mind raced a thousand steps ahead of him. 
Of all the people this could have happened to, it had to be you. He thought he’d done the right thing by leaving you alone, forcing himself not to portal to your dimension every night. His multiversal travels had taught him a thing or two about the ways things operated. Some figures, like Peter Parker’s Spider-Man were well represented across worlds. Some figures, like himself, were harder to come by. 
As for you? He only knew of three worlds where you existed - in one world, his actions had led to your death and the death of your daughter. In the second, Spot had murdered you in his quest to figure out Spider-Man’s identity. 
And in this one… 
Well he thought he’d been keeping you safe. 
Teleportation was a dangerous ability - unpredictable and difficult to control. Left unchecked you could find yourself in front of a car speeding down the highway or at the top of Mount Everest or in a different dimension altogether, constantly glitching as your molecules broke apa-
“Wait,” Miguel stiffened, back tightening as he swiveled around on his heels, “Where’s your watch?”
“My watch?” you glanced at your naked wrist, “I mean I usually just check my phone for the t-”
“No, your day pass watch. The thing that stabilizes you in this universe.” 
Miles’s eyes blew open. “Mierda. Sabía que había olvidado algo.”
“How long have you two been here?”
“Maybe two hours.” You guessed.
“And nothing’s happened?”
“Is something supposed to happen?” 
Even Peter B. looked concerned. Panic rose in your chest and you threatened to snap. Miguel reached out and grasped your wrist, palm sliding down until you felt the weight and warmth of his hand wrapped in yours. He led you to the med bay, Peter and Miles following closely behind.
The paper atop the padded examination table crinkled as you took a seat, watching Miguel’s broad shoulders flex and stretch as he dug an extra watch out from the back of a cabinet.
“Lyla, run a scan of Y/n.”
The woman flickered to life in front of him. “What’s the magic word?” She fluttered her eyelashes.
“Lyla.” He was in no mood for games today
“Ok, ok. Don’t be testy.” Lyla appeared in front of you, an orange scanner materializing in her hands that swept across your body with a cool touch. “Scan complete.” 
“Here you go,” Miguel felt some relief pour back into his body as he fastened the watch around your wrist, hand lingering against your pulse like he wanted further confirmation that you were alive and well.
“Hey, why does she get one of the fancy ones?” Miles protested. The watch, identical to the ones worn by Miguel, Peter, and Miles flashed its face at you. It was far too elaborate and expensive to be just a day pass.
Miguel ignored him, walking over to one of the monitors and skimming through the output data.
“It took six months for Miguel to give me one of those bad boys,” The paper crinkled again as Peter hopped onto the table beside you, whispering, “Looks like someone’s got a favorite,” and earning a glare from Miguel. 
Peter winked suggestively.
Miguel scowled.
Your cheeks turned a rosy red, your coat disappearing from around your shoulders and landing in a rumple at Miguel’s feet like the world’s worst suggestive gesture. Peter howled with laughter.
“No puedo creerlo.” Miguel whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Lyla, am I looking at this right?”
“You sure are. Y/n’s DNA is perfectly stable. Not a trace of multiversal quantum poisoning to be found. And! Her radiation signature matches that of more than a thousand different universes. Bet you’ve never seen that before.”
“How is that even possible?”
“Hmmmm, let me think.” Lyla spun around in a digital office chair, waiting for her moment to break the dramatic pause. Miguel groaned - he would need to improve her code and tone down the dramatism. “Looks like packets of quantum energy from across the multiverse were released during the Alchemax hypercompact fusion explosion and merged with the only unaltered sentient lifeform in the vicinity.” 
“Dios mio.”
At the end of her explanation she bowed gracefully, arm and fur-lined coat sweeping off to the side.
“Did you get any of that?” Peter asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Peter, I took forestry as my science gen ed in art school and barely passed so… no.”
“Uhhh, can you repeat it for the rest of the class?” Miles piped up. 
Lyla leaned forward, one hand on her hip and the other tipped her heart-shaped sunglasses onto her head. 
“Y/n absorbed energy from a ton of different universes so as far as the multiverse is concerned, she doesn’t register as an anomaly. No glitching. No dying outside of her universe without a watch. No predicted multiversal collapse.” Lyla smiled. “Predicted.”
You looked less than pleased. The last month had been filled to the brim with life-altering events from finding out Miles was a superhero, to getting kidnapped and nearly dying, to finding out your variant’s husband was an all-too-attractive, brooding Spider-Man. It was getting to be too much - you were a teacher for crying out loud! Maybe you’d have handled it better if you were a crime-fighting detective, or a fancy scientist, or a millionaire with access to the latest tech and weapons. Instead you were just… you.
“Can you fix it?” 
Miguel flinched at the look on your face. You were looking to him for help and for answers, but he couldn’t provide them in any satisfactory way. He’d never encountered anyone with your abilities. 
The confusion and fear that came with discovering your powers - that was a journey all Spider-People went through, and they usually went through it alone.
Miguel sighed, “There’s nothing to fix, Y/n.” He said the words with a softness no one had heard from him in years, perhaps ever, “This is who you are now.” 
“So I’m just going to be stuck like this forever?”
“Having powers isn’t so bad.” Peter chimed in with a small smile. “From time to time, it can actually be pretty awesome.”
You allowed a small, empty smile to grow on your lips. It was a smile Miguel was well acquainted with - the kind of smile that said I’m not fine, but I want you to believe that I am.
“I have some tests we could run.” Miguel offered up, “I can’t reverse what’s happened but maybe I can come up with something to help you control your powers, at least while you’re learning how to use them.” 
You nodded, the smile turning into something real, “I would like that. Thank you.” 
Peter was practically vibrating with excitement when he caught the look that passed between the two of you and the hint of hope on Miguel’s usually stony face. 
He clapped his hands down on Miles’s shoulders, “Well would you look at the time? I need to put Mayday down for her nap and grab some food. You’ll learn this soon enough, but being a superhero does burn the calories.” 
He hopped off the table, waltzing all the way to the door before he noticed that Miles was missing from his side. “Miles! Come join me.” 
“Actually, I was going to wait with-”
“Miles.” Peter coughed into his fist, bug eyes burning into Miles until he got the hint.
“Oh? Oh! Yeah, sorry Miss Y/l/n, I forgot I told Gwen I’d meet up with her.” 
You waved him off, “I’ll be fine, Miles. Thanks for everything.” 
“I’ll show her how to use the watch and send her home when we’re finished.” Miguel said, pulling on a lab coat that had been draped over his office chair. He rarely had time to work in the lab, more focused on his primary duty of maintaining the stability of the multiverse, but the familiar glide of the fabric over his skin did help to relax him. It reminded him of the old days when Spider-Man didn’t exist and the multiverse was just a fun theory tossed around at company lunches. 
A thin silence stretched between you two after Miles and Peter left, and you contented yourself with watching Miguel as he busily typed away at his monitor, labeled vials, and prepared the syringes. Every movement was practiced and controlled like he’d done this a million times before.
Miguel was screaming on the inside. You were close enough for his heightened senses to pick up on the honey lemon shampoo you used tinged with the woodsy scent of linseed oil. He was powerless under your gaze like an insect trapped under a microscope.
“I just need to collect some blood samples.” Miguel said, gently holding out his hand. You offered your arm up without complaint, distracting yourself from the pinch of the needle by reading the faded name tag printed on his lab coat.
You whistled low to break the tension, “Dr. O’Hara. That’s impressive. What kind of doctor are you?”
“I was a geneticist. Not the medical kind though. I worked in research at Alchemax.” 
“Is that how you got your spidey powers?”
He rolled his eyes, “They’re not spidey powers, they’re acrachno-humanoid genetic augmentations.” 
“Qué estúpido. Just call them spidey powers. You scientists just like to give things complicated names to feel superior.” The corner of Miguel’s lips quirked up every so slightly. The thrill of seeing any emotion on Miguel’s face lightened the feeling in your chest.
“Was it hard becoming Spider-Man?” You asked.
Miguel shrugged, wiping away the small bead of blood on your arm. “I had it easier than most. I was already looking into the possibility of combining human and arachnid DNA and I had the resources to study my powers.” Miguel paused. It had been a long time - too long - since he’d had a conversation like this with anyone. He could cast his mind back to talks with you his wife, but those had always been domestic in nature.
“The hardest part was not having anyone to talk to.” He said, finishing his thought.
“Sounds lonely.” You remarked, accepting the q-tip from him and swabbing the inside of your cheek. He collected the sample in a vial of greenish liquid and gave it a thorough shake, “Do you have people now that you talk to?”
“No.” His answer was short and to the point. 
You’d touched a sore spot and you decided to prod it. “Would you like someone to talk to?” 
Again, the corner of his lips twitched, “Are you offering?”
You copied his shrug from earlier, “Maybe.” 
He took a few more cheek swabs and then a strand of hair. His hand lingered by your cheek, frowning as he took in the bruise on your face. 
Now that you two were alone he dared to gently tilt your head to the side.
“You never told me what happened.” 
Your hands flew up to your face in embarrassment and Miguel saw the tips of your ears grow red. He liked it.
“I may or may not have teleported my pillow away right before smashing my face into the floor.” 
The breath left his lungs in a quiet chuckle. That sounded like something you’d do.
“But no one’s bothering you?”
“What? Oh no. No, it’s nothing like that.” 
He nodded, the tightness in his chest unraveling with that knowledge. He knew you weren’t his wife and he knew that you didn’t know him well enough yet, but that didn’t stop him from caring. The truth was he liked you from the moment you slapped his shoulder and cursed at him, and it wasn’t just because you looked like someone from his past.
“This will take some time to work through.” He tilted his head towards where the tabletop machines whirred and spun, “But if I’m right, I may be able to adjust your watch to stabilize you in a specific place, not just a specific universe. It’s not a permanent fix but you won’t be waking up in Central Park again anytime soon.” 
“That would be preferable.” 
You moved to take off the watch and hand it over to Miguel but he stopped you.
“Keep this one. In case anything happens you can contact me or the other Spider-People,” He said, walking her through the steps of using the watch, “Headquarters is always open so if anything happens, come here.” 
You nodded. With an encouraging look from Miguel you punched “Earth-1610” into the locator and then your home address. 
Just like last time the portal bloomed open beside you, scattering a few loose papers on the ground. Through the portal you caught a glimpse of your living room, citylights flashing outside your window.
“Come back next week. Until we have a better understanding of your powers it would be good for us to monitor you and check that you’re stable.” 
And it would be good for you to see her again. 
Miguel squashed the thought as soon as it popped into his brain in Peter’s voice. He really needed to stop spending so much time with him. 
You stepped through the portal and were embraced by the familiar smell of your apartment. It made you feel better about what was to come. You turned to smile at Miguel, his tired eyes lighting up ever so slightly.
“I’ll see you next week then.”
<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->
_________ Author's note: Here's the next chapter! Let me know what you guys think of the writing and where the story is going. I'm hoping to dive more deeply into Y/n x Miguel's relationship in the coming chapters so get ready for angst and fluff!
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rainee-chu · 1 year
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I love noir so bad I start drowning and rolling around on the floor everytime I tjink about him
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cupcakeinat0r · 6 months
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Happy St. Patrick’s Day to my fav half yt, half Mexican, 6’9”, 310 lbs, fang-and-claw-having, no rizz having, traumatized, grumpy, old man <3
I love youuuuuuu 🇲🇽🇲🇽🇲🇽🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪🦇🦇🦇🕷️🕸️🕷️🕷️🕸️🇮🇪🇲🇽🇮🇪🇮🇪🇲🇽🇮🇪🇮🇪🇲🇽🤭🤭🤭🤭❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
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