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liliacamethyst · 1 year

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Webs of Fate - Miguel O'Hara (Part II)

Sequel to Web of Secrets

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut, time jumps, not really comic accurate (canon events), semi public piv, 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

You are all back at the Spider-Verse Headquarters and the atmosphere is tense. Everyone is still high on adrenaline from the mission. You’re nursing a deep gash on your arm but your spirit is far from broken.

Miguel, however, seems to be on the verge of an explosion.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT OUT THERE SPIDER SUN?” he bursts out, his voice echoing through the HQ.

You're taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“That reckless behavior! You could have been killed!” he roars. “Why didn’t you retreat when you were injured?!”

“Because there were lives at stake! I can handle myself, Miguel!” you shout back.

“You think this is a game?! You think being part of this team is just for kicks?” Miguel’s face is red, his voice strained.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare question my dedication!” you yell, your own anger now matching his.

The team is watching, shifting uncomfortably. Gwen looks at Jess, who shakes her head. The room is thick with tension.

Alright, if you are being honest with yourself, your recent actions in the field could definitely be classified as reckless. Perhaps even bordering on idiotic - not that you’d ever confess that in front of Miguel. You didn’t know where your mind went. Wait, no, scratch that. You knew precisely where your thoughts were, every mission since you discovered your pregnancy has been like this; your spider senses dulled, focus scattered to the wind, and reflexes that would’ve made a sloth proud.

And then there was this mission – your first one in quite a while alongside Miguel. He was bound to notice.

So you were fighting an Electro variant from an alternate universe, alongside Jess, Gwen, Ben and Miguel. The electric villain was throwing bolts of energy left and right and everyone was giving their all. You noticed a civilian trapped under some debris. You made a beeline for them, not thinking about anything else.

As you lifted the debris, an energy bolt flew straight for you. Usually, your Spider-Senses would have alerted you but not today. It hit you square in the back and sent you flying.

You hit a wall but ignored the pain as you scrambled back to your feet. A sharp ache spread across your arm but you gritted your teeth and kept fighting.

Miguel yelled, “What the hell are you doing?! Fall back!”

But you didn’t, you kept pushing forward.

He landed next to you, his eyes filled with anger and something else, maybe a hint of worry. He grabbed your waist to pull you back. But as another energy bolt was coming your way, you shoved him out of the path, taking the hit for the second time. So yeah, you could say that this mission wasn't exactly the shining star in your superhero career.

“ESTÚPIDA! So damn stupid. I won’t fucking watch someone throw their life away recklessly!” Miguel was now yelling loudly in oyur face for everyone in the HQ to hear.

“Oh, please. What’s it to you? Since when do you care, Miguel?!” you shout back, finally having enough of his insufferable attitude. “All this time, you’ve treated me like I’m dispensable. Like I don't matter! Well, guess what? I can fight, I can make decisions, and I don’t need you to approve them!”

“Don’t!” Miguel's voice cracks, and for a brief second, there’s a look of hurt on his face that surprises you. But his rage quickly replaces it. “I cannot do this anymore with you, ¿me entiendes?” he yells.

The room falls silent. Everyone’s gazes dart between you and Miguel. You can feel Gwen’s worried eyes on you, and Ben Riley. looks like he wants to intervene, but this moment is too charged.

You take a deep breath, tears welling up. “I can't do this anymore either,” you whisper.

“What?” Miguel's voice is barely audible.

“I can't keep fighting for a team where I’m not respected or trusted. Where you treat me constantly like a liability, like I am worth nothing to you,” you say, your voice steadier now.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” Miguel says, his tone slightly softening.

You turn around, your eyes welling up once again and open a portal to your universe. “I do, I quit” you say, your voice breaking.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your transdimensional gizmo, the small device that every Spider-person uses to travel across the multiverse. It's an intricate piece of technology, a blend of science and magic that fits in the palm of your hand.

You toss the device on the table in front of Miguel. It skids across the surface before coming to a stop right in front of him. He looks from the gizmo to you, his expression unreadable.

"Take it. We don’t need it anymore." You say defiantly, meeting his gaze.

Everyone knows the implication of you returning the gizmo. Without it, you're effectively stranded in your universe, unable to return to the society. This isn't a decision made lightly, it's a point of no return.

As you step through the portal, you glance back one last time. You see Miguel’s face, contorted in pain, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak and he doesn't stop you.

Your heart is breaking, but you can’t stay here. Not when it’s this painful.

You turn away and head toward the portal room, with one hand lightly grazing your tummy. Gwen calls your name, but you don’t stop.

In the dim light of the room, the world seems to fade away as you lie there with Miguel on top of you. You are under him, breathless, your fingers running through his hair. His body pins you down in a tender, electrifying way, and you can feel the rhythm of his heart beating against yours.

His fangs graze the curve of your neck lightly, eliciting a shiver that runs through you. In response, he nuzzles into you, his breath warm against your skin.

"Ever think about what we're doing?" he asks in a whisper that vibrates against your neck.

"Constantly," you respond, your fingers tracing the curve of his broad shoulders, "but I don’t regret it, not a moment.”

He lifts his head, his red orbs searching yours. “Neither do I,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. His hand reaches up to trace the contour of your face.

"You know," you whisper, your hands continuing caressing his back, "I always wondered what it was like in your universe, in your time."

He shifts a little, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes, usually as unreadable, now seem to crack open; emotions swirl within them like stars.

"It was great, you know," his voice is gentle, each word enveloping you. "No, more than that – it was perfect," he corrects himself. His eyes never leave yours as he continues, "I had my Gabriella. Ah, you would have adored her." His voice softens to a mere whisper as if speaking her name too loudly might shatter the memory. "She was this incredible burst of life just like you. My own little sunshine. I didn’t know my heart could hold so much until she came into my life."

"The way she would throw her head back and laugh, it was like music. Her tiny hands – so soft and gentle. I remember how one of them always found mine, and the world felt... right." He continued, "I was never alone, never empty." He swallows hard, as if trying to keep the flood of emotions from washing over him.

You cup his cheek gently, smiling up at him. "You don't have to be alone, you know?"

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Sometimes it feels like there's no other option. It’s my fate."

“What scares you the most, Miguel?” you suddenly ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates. “To lose myself… to forget what it means to care for someone,” he finally confesses.

“You won’t,” you assure him, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Not if you don’t let yourself.”

“¿y tú?” His voice is husky. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“To be forgotten,” you whisper.

He lowers himself and presses his forehead against yours. “Imposible,” he breathes. “You’re the sun. No one forgets the sun.” He pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer until the world outside disappears.

Suddenly, his wrist console beeps, yanking him back to the present. "O’Hara, are you okay?" Lyla's voice echoes in the room, breaking the silence. He blinks, his gaze focusing on the holographic screen displaying the mission details in front of him. "Yeah, Lyla," he responds, his voice a bit hoarse. "Just remembered something," he murmurs, and refocuses on the screen before him.

Amidst the sea of codes and numbers, Miguel finds himself struggling to focus. His thoughts still are consumed by you, and a heavy realization crashes down upon him like a tidal wave - he’s lost you forever.

He always knew that this was how it was meant to be. This was the only logical conclusion, the inevitable outcome that he had tried so hard to deny. He was aware of the potential repercussions, the cosmic imbalance that could be brought about by your intertwining fates.

Lyla had warned him multiple times, cautioned him against letting you close. But how could he have possibly resisted you? You, who shone brighter than the sun, who captured the hearts of everyone around with your aura and your kind soul. Your beauty was unparalleled, and your laughter had the power to fill a room, casting away shadows. He was a moth drawn to your flame, hopelessly captivated from the very first day he met you.

But you were never meant to be his story, not the path his life was meant to tread. You belonged to another world, another universe.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Lyla breaks the silence with her smooth, computerized voice. “No,” he interrupts her sharply, his voice a little too forceful.

But Lyla isn't easily deterred. "You know it was dangerous from the beginning, Miguel," Lyla continues. "Engaging with her like that...it could have caused irreparable damage to the multiverse."

"I know," he replies curtly.

Unyielding, Lyla continues, "This was never supposed to be a canon event. Her universe is not meant to mix with yours. It's fortunate that she left when she did. The damage could've been—"

“I KNOW!” Miguel suddenly erupts, his voice thundering through the room. He screams, his frustration boiling over, "¡Ya lo sé, Lyla! ¡Basta ya!" ("I already know, Lyla! Enough already!") With a loud grunt, he sweeps his arm across his desk, sending his keyboard, mug, and various other items crashing to the ground.

There is a deafening silence as Miguel breathes heavily, his chest heaving. His eyes are wide, his face is flushed and his fangs are bared. He never loses control, not like this.

Lyla, for once, remains silent.

3 months later…

Back in Nea Yorkey, Earth 586 , you are perched on the rooftop, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach. Time has passed since you left Nueva York and Miguel, but your feelings for him are still a tangled mess. Damn these pesky pregnancy hormones.

For once, it’s pretty calm out there. No honking horns in traffic jams or the usual buzz of people everywhere. It’s like the city hit the pause button and honestly, it’s kind of nice. The streetlights are like tiny fairy lights all over, and the tall buildings around you feel like they’re keeping you company.

The cool breeze brushes against your face, and you can't help but be lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. The relentless flood of emotions is almost too much to handle.

The flashback hits you hard, placing you right back in Miguel's office late one evening. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your backside planted firmly on his desk amidst strewn cables and metallic pieces and half-empty coffee mugs.

"Miguel, someone will catch us," you had warned, your breath hitching as he nipped at your skin, his hands deftly moving to undo your skintight suit. His hair was a little longer then, the ends tickling your forehead as he kissed you.

He had just chuckled, the sound deep and throaty, making your heart flutter. "They know better than to disturb me," he'd responded confidently, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your jawline.

Usually, Miguel was cautious about showing any sign of affection when others might be around, even if 'around' meant anywhere in the sprawling headquarters of the Spider Society. Yet, that night, he seemed to throw caution to the wind.

In his enclosed office, late into the evening, he let his guard down - a rarity. His lips were insistent against your skin, his touch setting you alight. You remember how the soft glow of the desk lamp had caught in his eyes, making them appear even more mesmerizing.

As he was holding your ass up steady and pounding into you, in a pace and fervor you never experienced before, you hear his communicator ring vibrating. You instinctively attempt to pull away, assuming he would answer the call, but he holds you tighter, his lips never leaving your skin.

His free hand pulls up a holographic screen,which flickered to life above the desk, revealing a slightly pixelated image of Jess. You panic for a moment, worried that she might see you in this intimate moment with Miguel, but he just shook his head slightly, reassuring you that she can't. He must have filtered the video feed on his end.

“Yes, Jess?” Miguel’s voice was steady, but his breath ghosted your neck in short spurts. He continued with his action, his thrusts a little slower but deep, nevertheless. You clamp your teeth down onto Miguel's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stifle the moans escaping your throat, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. You can barely contain yourself. Miguel's soft, amused chuckle vibrate through you as he wraps his arms around you protectively. Asshole.

“We’ve got an anomaly on Earth-4067, seems like a temporal rift,” Jess's voice came through the hologram.

“Have you tried the Q-particle stabilizer?” Miguel asks, his voice so casual it's almost disarming. His eyes meet yours, a playful glint in them.

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. The rift is actually growing,” Jess responds, the worry in her voice increasing. “What do you think we should do?”

“Alright, I want you to reconfigure the dimensional frequency to match the rift. Then patch the satellite feed through the Alchemax algorithm, reverse the temporal frequency by 4.7 hertz and use the resonance pulse to stabilize the rift,” Miguel articulates with authority as he continues to pick up his pace. You’re close to the edge, with the euphoria threatening to make you cry out. The sheer pleasure is now tinged with a faint edge of pain, and a wave of panic crashes over you. The thought of Jess possibly hearing you is nerve-wracking, and you’re now fighting to suppress your screams.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you whisper in a hoarse, needy voice, “Miguel, ‘m close."

"I know, mami. Come for me," he whispers back, his voice filled with a playful mischief that seems to defy the gravity of the situation. His hot breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine and the wave of pleasure crushes down on you.

“Miguel, are you sure about this? I mean, if something goes wrong…” Jess hesitates.

“I’m sure, Jess.” Thrust. “Do.” Another hard thrust. “it.” Miguel’s voice turns forceful.

“Okay, I trust you. But... are you alright? You sound kinda breathless,” Jess's suspicion returns.

“Oh, just...uh...running some diagnostics. It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Miguel replies with a smirk on his face, his fingers now gently brushing against your bare heated skin.

The rooftop is silent again, and you're still rubbing your belly, where the life you and Miguel created is growing. A bittersweet tear rolls down your cheek as you wish, not for the first time, that things could have been different.

You don’t know how long you are sitting there, taking in the city scene. But it was getting dark, when a familiar figure swings onto the rooftop. It's Gwen, carrying a small package in her hand. “Gwen? What brings you to Nea Yorkey?”

She walks up to you with a soft smile, "Do I need a reason to visit my favourite Spider-Ma? I've got something for you."

You raise an eyebrow as she hands you the package. As you unwrap it, you find a tiny Spider-Man hat, similar to the one Mayday usually wears. And to your surprise, there’s a tiny anarchy pin, attached to it.

"From the group," she says softly. She adds, pointing at the pin, "This bit here, that’s from Hobie." Of course it is.

You’re moved to tears as you hug the hat close. It's a simple gift, yet it means so much. You feel a lump in your throat, and Gwen steps forward, wrapping you in a warm, comforting hug.

"I...I miss all of you so much," you manage to whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

"We miss you too," Gwen replies, her voice equally soft.

You pull back, wiping your eyes. Gwen tries to lighten the mood, "So, any guesses on the gender? I bet it’s a boy."

You shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips, "I don't care what it's going to be. I just want them to be healthy."

Gwen grins, "Just remember, if it is a boy and he turns out to be a handful, you owe me a soda."

You both sit on the edge of the rooftop in a comfortable silence, legs swinging over the city, the conversation turns more serious.

"So," you venture, "how are things back at the Spider Society?"

Gwen’s expression turns contemplative. "It's been... strange since you left," she admits.

"Strange how?" you prod.

"Well, you know how Miguel was always a little on the, uh, grumpy side?" she says, making a grimace.

"You mean being a brooding fortress of doom and gloom?" you quip, and Gwen chuckles.

"Yeah, that. Well, he's gotten worse since you left. Like, way worse," Gwen's face turns somber as she continues. "He’s even more closed off than before. His temper’s shorter, he barely communicates, and he's been pushing everyone away. Miguel’s basically got everyone on lockdown. No unauthorized visits between universes. There’s this... I don’t know... this cloud hanging over him, you know?”

Your heart tightens as you take in her words. You had no idea that your departure had such an impact on him, or anyone for that matter.

“He doesn’t talk about it, but I think he misses you,” Gwen adds, looking directly into your eyes.

You are torn. Part of you wants to be angry at Miguel for how things went down, but another part aches for him.

Gwen nudges you. "Maybe he needs his sunshine back," she says with a gentle smile.

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of Gwen’s words sinking in. “Don’t be silly. I was never his sunshine.”

4 months later…

Beneath the pale glow of hospital lights, pain and joy mingle in the delivery room. The grip you have on the sheets gets tighter as you push to usher your baby into the world. Your hair is sticking to your forehead, your breath comes in heaving gasps, exhaustion painting dark circles under your eyes.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, a portal flickers to life outside your window, and Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie emerge.

“Make way! The party has arrived!” Peter B. exclaims loudly.

“I don’t believe in parties.” Hobie says as he struts in, clad in his Spider suit with a leather jacket over it, pins and patches proudly displayed.

Gwen knocks at your door. The midwife, busy with you in the labor, answers.

“Uh, who are you?” the midwife asks, slightly agitated.

“We’re friends of hers,” Peter gestures towards you, “is it a good time?”

You hear their voices, but you cant muster up a response all you can do is scream and push.

“Blimey, I didn’t think it’d be like somethin’ outta Alien! You alright there, love?” Hobie’s eyes go wide, as he enters the room.

You can't help but laugh through the pain, "Oh, just peachy, thanks for asking."

Gwen steps forward, immediately grabbing your hand, her voice soothing, “Hey, you’re doing great. Is there anything we can do?”

“You could get Hobie out of here,” you jest, rolling your eyes, but your smile betrays your appreciation. Another loud scream follows.

“You got this, luv!” Hobie shouts. “Just imagine the bloody contractions as guitar riffs! You’re about to release the raddest album in history!”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the cries of your newborn baby.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” the nurse announces, handing the baby to to you.

You can’t help but laugh. Gwen steps closer to the bed and takes a peek at the baby. Her eyes light up. “Told you, it’s a boy. He’s absolutely beautiful,” she whispers.

Hobie chimes in. “Alright, let’s get a proper look at the little bloke!” He leans in, and his face softens. "Oh, look at 'im!" Hobie exclaims in his thick British accent, peering at him. "Little blighter's a spitting image of 'is mum, ain't he?” No. You see it then, the dark eyes with a hint of red glow echo the intensity of his father's gaze, the dark chocolate hair and the sun kissed complexion. He looked undeniably just like Miguel. You cant help yourself but fall immediately in love with your and Miguel’s little boy.

As they prepare to leave, Gwen, Peter B., and Hobie each take turns holding Gabriel and whispering well-wishes to him.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for being here,” you say, wiping away a tear.

Peter’s mask is off and he’s beaming. "We couldn't miss this for the multiverse!"

Gwen follows suit, "Yeah! Plus, Hobie wouldn't let us hear the end of it if we didn’t."

“We’re family,” Peter says firmly. “Across universes and timelines. We’re always here for each other.”

With that, the trio put on their masks and with another whoosh, they're gone.

1 year later...

One year has passed like a whirlwind. You've established a balance in your life. By day, you are a doting mother, and your world revolves around a little ball of energy named Gabriel. His laugh is the music that fuels your day, and his tiny hands holding yours make everything seem alright.

At night, though, you become someone else. Clad in a white suit adorned with golden sun patterns, you swing through the skyscrapers of Nea Yorkey as the Sun Spider. Your heart swells with pride, knowing that you’re keeping the streets and your little boy safe.

Your neighbor, Melissa, sometimes babysits Gabriel. She is a cheerful, quirky 19-year-old neighbor who dreams of becoming an Instagram influencer. You trust her (her career choice not so much) and, most importantly, Gabriel adores her.

Up until today, you believed that he hadn't inherited any powers. However, today was the first time he climbed up a wall and spun a web, without the aid of a web-slinger. It was the first time you witnessed him display such powers, and naturally, you were impressed. However, you also realized that being a mom would now involve dealing with a whole new set of challenges and responsibilities, making everyday life more exhausting than before. But you are up for the challenge;

Meanwhile, in the Spider Society’s HQ in Nueva York, Lyla’s holographic screen blinks red as she detects an anomaly in Earth 586 - your universe. She reports it to Miguel, who is still his grumpy self, seemingly even more irritable with each day passing.

“There’s a presence in Earth 586 that does not belong,” Lyla reports in her emotionless tone.

Miguel, sitting at his desk, sighs deeply. “Assemble the team. Pavitr, Lego Spider-Man, and... let’s bring in the newbie, Miles.”

Minutes later, the trio is briefed about the anomaly – a two-year-old child. They are to extract the child and bring it back.

Back in your universe, you're facing off against a notorious villain – The Shocker, who is on a rampage downtown. His high-frequency shock waves shake the very foundations of the buildings around you.

“Not tonight, Shocker,” you quip as you dodge a blast. “I’ve got a bedtime story to read!”

You're agile and sharp, but you can’t wait to get back home to Gabriel.

In your apartment, Melissa is on the couch, engrossed in her phone. She doesn't notice Pavitr slyly slipping into Gabriel's room. He can’t help but feel conflicted, seeing the innocent child asleep.

“This is the target?” Pavitr speaks in a hushed tone into his communicator. His voice is laced with doubt.

“Yes, proceed,” responds Miguel firmly.

Pavitr gently picks up Gabriel, cradling him in his arms. “Sorry, little guy,” he whispers and slips out.

Outside, they gather near the portal. Miles, who is visibly excited to be on his first mission, can sense the tension among the group.

“That was… too easy,” Pavitr murmurs, still holding the sleeping child.

Through the swirling portal, they make their way back to Nueva York.

Meanwhile, you web up The Shocker and leave him hanging for the police.

Back in the Spider Society's HQ in Nueva York, the team stands in a specialized containment room with the toddler still peacefully sleeping nestled in a makeshift bed of spider-web, completely oblivious to the attention he's attracting. One by one, members of the Spider Society trickle into the room, drawn by curiosity and concern.

Miles, who is new to the Spider Society, looks at the child with confusion. "I don't get it, what's so dangerous about a kid?" he asks.

Pavitr looks conflicted, “We have to determine where he came from and why he is considered an anomaly.”

Lego Spider-Man remains silent, trying to analyze the situation. He finally speaks up. "We should be cautious. Just because it's a child doesn't mean it's not potentially hazardous to the multiverse."

Miguel enters the room, his face cold and emotionless. He glances at the sleeping child, then at his team. “It doesn’t matter what it is. Anomalies threaten the balance of the multiverse. Every anomaly has to be returned to its home universe. That’s the rule.” he says sternly.

"But he's not an anomaly, boss," Jess adds, gazing fondly at the child. "He's a little boy."

Miguel’s gaze is unwavering, ignoring Jess. “Lyla? Whats the status?”

Lyla's holographic form flickers into the room. "This entity possesses unknown powers," she declares, her voice ringing out with clinical detachment. "And according to my scans, it doesn't belong to any known universe. Therefore, it cannot be returned. It must be... eliminated."

Miles' eyes widen. “Wait, you mean…?” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

Pavitr steps forward, his fists clenched. “We can’t just... There must be another way.”

Back in your universe, you swing closer to your apartment, but your spider-sense starts are tingling with a ferocity you’ve never experienced before. Your heart races, and you quicken your pace. Bursting through the window, you find Melissa still sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

"Where is he? Where’s Gabriel?!" you shout, panic straining your voice.

Melissa's eyes go wide as she looks up from her phone. "What? He's in his room, sleeping," she says, but her voice falters when she sees the terror on your face.

You rush into Gabriel's room and find the crib empty. Your knees buckle, and a guttural scream escapes your lips. The room spins as you run back to the living room, grabbing Melissa by the shoulders.

"Did anyone come in? Did you see anything?!" you practically scream at her.

“I... I didn’t see anyone. I swear!” Melissa's voice shakes.

Your heart feels like it's tearing apart. You look around the room, desperate for any clue. You need to find your son, and something deep within you tells you that the Spider Society is where you need to go. You have to find a way to travel through the multiverse without a gizmo and the time is ticking. You have to find your son.

Back in the HQ in the midst of the tension-filled room, Gwen stands up, "Miguel, you can't be serious," she pleads, disbelief resonating in her voice. "We can't just... kill a baby.”

Miguel's eyes narrow. "Sometimes tough decisions have to be made for the greater good.”

Just then, little Gabriel wakes up. His big eyes wander curiously around the room, and he starts to make happy babbling sounds. Unfazed by his surroundings, he looks at each of the Spider-People with fascination.

As Peter B. is about to reach down to pick Gabriel up, the toddler crawls quickly over to Miguel. His little face lights up with the purest of smiles and he reaches his tiny arms towards Miguel as if trying to give him a hug.

The room seems to collectively hold its breath. Even Miguel seems taken aback.

Pavitr can't help it, “He seems to have taken a liking to you, boss.”

Gwen smiles, her eyes watering up. “See? Even this innocent soul can sense there’s still good in you.”

Tiny fingers grip at the fabric of Miguel's suit, baby Gabriel coos and giggles as he clambers up the towering figure. Planting tiny baby kisses on any part of Miguel he can reach, the toddler's joyous laughter rings in the silent room. "Vete, Vete." Miguel mutters. And despite Miguel's cold exterior, Gabriel is unphased, drawn to him as though an invisible bond exists between them.

Miguel looks frustrated and uncomfortable with the baby's affection. He awkwardly picks Gabriel up at arm’s length. But the little one is relentless, trying to cuddle into Miguel’s chest.

Annoyed, Miguel places Gabriel into a containment field made of energy beams, to keep him in place. The baby, though restrained, is still reaching out to Miguel with his tiny hands, cooing.

The room goes quiet again, and Gwen speaks, her voice soft.

“Look at him, Miguel. Please. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t affect you in any way.”

Miguel's face is tense, his jaw clenched. His eyes dart between Gwen and Gabriel. All eyes are directed towards Miguel. The room feels like it’s waiting for something to shatter.

“We do what needs to be done, no exceptions.”

Part III "Web of Shadow and Light"

a/n: Honestly, I can't begin to express how much your support and kind messages mean to me. I literally started crying when I saw how much love this story received. It means the world to me. Truly, thank you. I'd love to hear your thoughts, and if someone could give me a heads-up on whether the tag list functioned properly, that would be great. Also, apologies for any inconsistencies or logical errors regarding the multiverse or canon theory. I watched the movie but I'm not 100% sure of that's how it works.

Once again, I really do appreciate each and everyone of you. Please, don’t forget to take good care of yourselves and stay hydrated! ILYSM

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fangswbenefits · 1 year

Text

Side Effect

Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).

You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.

A proper one.

If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.

This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.

“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.

The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.

That was weird.

“What?”

Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.

That was really weird.

You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.

This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.

Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.

But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.

“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.

You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”

“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”

“That’s classified.”

“Classified?”

She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”

“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.

Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.

He was avoiding you in particular.

“Can you just open the door?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”

“I really need to talk to him.”

Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”

That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.

“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”

The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”

You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.

She winked. “Gotcha!”

The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.

You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.

A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.

Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.

A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.

“What the fuck?”

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.

Something wasn’t right.

Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.

“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.

“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.

His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”

As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.

“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”

“Got it, Miguel!”

The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?

“Miguel… what…”

He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>

What was he doing?

“Leave.”

“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“

Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.

The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I need you gone. Now.”

Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?

He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.

“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”

Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.

“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”

“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”

Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”

His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”

“What…”

He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?

His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.

“Miguel… what is going on?”

You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.

“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”

Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?

This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”

Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.

“I’m rutting.”

Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.

He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”

Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.

You glanced over at the nearby screen:

Oh.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”

“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”

You bit your lip.

He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”

This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.

His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.

“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”

He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”

You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.

“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”

The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”

His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.

“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”

For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.

Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.

That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.

Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”

His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”

Your eyes widened.

He wasn’t being serious…

… was he?

“Miguel…”

The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.

You had helped him develop it.

Its efficacy neared 90%.

You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.

And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.

Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.

You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.

In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”

You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.

How was this so arousing?

“What words?”

He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.

“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”

“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”

Oh… fuck.

He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”

Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.

“Tell me I can do this.”

His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.

“No. Say it.”

He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.

“Go ahead.”

“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.

At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.

You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”

A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.

He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.

“Turn around.”

You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.

More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.

You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”

Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.

The pressure increased. “More.”

Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.

His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.

“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.

Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.

The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m sorry.”

Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.

He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.

Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.

“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”

Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.

He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.

Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.

You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.

Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.

“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.

That genetic material deserved to be spread.

“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.

An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.

“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.

The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.

“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.

Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.

“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.

You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.

Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.

Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.

He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.

You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.

So much cum.

He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.

Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.

An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.

He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.

“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.

“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

You glanced to the screen nearby.

“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?

He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”

Oh, you were utterly fucked.

In every sense of the word.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099

6K notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 1 year

Text

Stung | [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | after a discus malfunction, you're bitten by an anomaly and refuse medical attention. you're in a state that you refuse to show to miguel-- at all costs.

❛ tags | NSFW, sex pollen, mention of a wound, slight chase, miguel o'hara doesn't like to be ignored, cum eating, creampies, abnormal amount of fluid, venom bite, slapping, some insecurity, spanish is not translated, sexual memories.

❛ sy’s notes | my obligatory ABO-sex pollen fic for ATSV. i usually make a ABO/Sex Pollen piece per fandom I write in, so here's one for Miggy 🐝

“All done!”

You slipped out of HQ’s packed infirmary with a jaunty bounce in your step. Crispy, coppery blood was matted onto your forearm concealed behind a hastily tied bandage. You weren't concerned about it. It would resolve within the hour. Likely less. As would your elevated body temperature. Despite the doctor's prattle about the benefit of further testing, you found their concern to be a non-issue. These things were virtual non-issues, even if the doctor and your man thought otherwise.

The hallways at HQ were like any other day in your city. Congested with the coming and going of spiders in their daily lives. A glimpse at any group might reveal decadent flirting and haughty laughter. Some were in a rush to their own worlds, but most were completing work assigned by the Spider Society. The one you were looking for reclined against a wall with his arms interlocked one over the other. His displeased rumble prompted you to his presence above all other voices in the crowd.

“You should have let them run the tests.” His voice was teased with concern but became mild, little more than a drab sigh at your refusal. You blew off his concern with a shake of your hand, gone yellow and bubbly behind a bit of ineffectual gauze. His eye glazed over the wound. You couldn't tell what he was thinking behind his mask, but you didn't need to. You only needed to convince him you were right.

“It’s stopped bleeding, Miggy. It’s just a scratch,” You held up your arm, flicking it with emphasis. His eyebrows raised for a moment, then flattened, staring at you with a dull rictus. “It was just a brief malfunction of the discus.”

Technically it was more of an impalement, but if Miguel wasn’t going to ask, you weren’t going to invite him to delve deeper. Otherwise, you might spend the next few hours of your life fixing a wound that surely would have closed up by the time results were back. The injury site mildly itched. That was all. Never mind, the slight, honey-colored rash migrating from the puncture site to your elbow. Or the referred pain. Minor things.

“You’re being stubborn.”

“You’re the one to talk.” You snapped the discus free from your sash and chucked it toward Miguel. He caught it with an unsurprising amount of ease, claws clicking in unison against the ineffectual metal.

“¡Qué problema!” he mocked, his voice dry and absent of discernible emotion.

You closed the distance between your bodies to slide your arms around his broad neck. His other hand came to your lower back. It was warm, the way he touched you, from the bundles of affection that fluttered in your belly to the heat dappling across your chest. You missed this every day. It made fleeing the infirmary all the more worth it.

“I put the anomaly in another discus. One that actually works, no thanks to your programming.”

“That’s what happens when you take things without asking.” He flicked the discus between his thumb and index finger, waggling it for emphasis. It was true that there had been nights that went with banging, clacks, clatters, and the occasional outburst when things weren’t quite going his way. There were a few discuses on his desk. You just so happened to take the one that malfunctioned. “I was working on it. ¿Qué era?”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Just some stingy bees. What harm could they do?”

His eyes roamed your wound. You couldn't help but look down too, both horrified and fascinated by the way the rash had moved in just a brief few minutes. The colour had begun to fade. You glanced up, flattening your mouth into a slight, forced smile.

“Fine. If you're sure.”

To be fair, you secured many anomalies with and without the help of others. They all went into their cozy, temporary forcefield homes until they could be fairly redirected to their appropriate dimensions. In the downtime, you could help or hinder Miguel's progress. Then, your watch would alert you to another disturbance and the cycle would continue.

Until that morning.

Your watch blared, and blared, and blared some more. The early morning sun began to rise and cast offensive beams of light into your room. Usually, it didn’t bother you. But this morning, everything offended you from the scratch of silky sheets on your naked body to Lyla illuminating what darkness was left, all golden and cute. You wondered if that was how Miguel felt when you forgot to pull the curtains, strung out on the bed after he finished with you.

“Woah! Oops!” she turned, covering her eyes with her spindly fingers. A growing ache throbbed between your legs. It wasn’t quite the same dull soreness from Miguel’s late-night visit last night, either. “Sorry, sorry. Miguel--”

“He can handle it,” you bit out, snappier than you intended. It wasn't like you. “Or-- Jess. No, Gwen. Gwen can do it, she loves--”

“He asked for you.”

Of course, he did. You scrunched a pillow over your head. Your Miguel couldn’t see you this. Absolutely not. You debated getting up, ignoring what you called a negligible ache that was quickly morphing into a terrible pounding. You can't believe how quickly the thought fell apart, pushing yourself to sit up in bed. The ghost of his scent floods your nose, flashing memories of the night before.

Something at work set him off. Something that commanded no intimacy, but the mechanical release of his rage that wouldn't destroy precious resources. He sat on the edge of the bed, driving your mouth onto his cock with the aid of your hair bundled around his fist. You recalled the shakiness of his thighs under your fingers, his firm legs spread wide fucking your mouth with cold abandon. He chased his own orgasm selfishly, needing the release, needing to see your body painted by whips of his cum sprayed across your exposed breasts. He pulled you off in silence, inspecting the drool and cum that spilled down your chin and throat in rivulets. "What--"

Your face tightened, glancing down at the growing tension in your belly. Everything began to annoy you, especially the scratch of the sheets against your skin, your bed empty of his presence. How could you tolerate that uniform plastered to your ass? You buried into the offensive bed. This was fine. This was normal, recalling what you'd done last night. Surely, the burn had to do with the whole being launched through not one, but two crumbling buildings the day before. The dust and rubble. Were you close to your cycle?

“Tell him I’m dead,” and without another word, you resolved the call. Within seconds she popped up again, bent at the waist because this was your life now. Never could you just… take a day off. There was always something. You muffled your screams of protest into the mattress and dug your feet in, kicking off the sheets, the blankets, the pillows, all of it.

“Is this a fit? You’ve never had a fit before,” Lyla noticed. A fit? She thought the burning of your body was a fit? Damn AI. Resolve.

Resolve. Resolve. Resolve.

It became cathartic after a good while. Or it would have been if not for your senses hyper-fixating on every minor change in your body. Despite your apprehension, you knew. What was once a dull pain radiating from your forearm morphed into something much worse. Something you couldn’t blame on the rather average experience of being pelted through the average event of windows and concrete. It was more than a tingle. It burned as it coursed through your body.

You stumbled over the bundle of bedding into the bathroom. It was there that you realized that to your horror, you weren’t just lubricated, now you were soaked. Your fluids coursed down your thighs as you dabbed the region clean with a bundle of tissues. It did little good. Touching the area exasperated the issue. Maybe you needed an orgasm, maybe ten. An hour or so later, you slammed the heel of your palm into the mirror, fracturing it into shards of terrible glass that crumbled onto the countertop. Beads of blood dabbled onto your reflection.

“If you d--” resolve.

So not a reaction to your average bee sting. Correction. A great, big, fat colony of hissing, buzzing bees. The act of recalling information was like jamming your hand into fluid water to snatch a tiny hair tie. No matter how many times you tried to recall the information, you couldn’t quite grasp it. It was there, floating around your head, but inaccessible. Your mind traveled back to Miguel. How gentle his lips could be, trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder when you rode him in reverse. How deep he'd go.

"Fuck off!" Your watch blared again. Its beeping filled your bathroom, echoing over and over. You reached behind the door to pluck a silky white slip from its hook and dragged it over your head. You were about to resolve the call again when the hot timbre in his warm voice saying your name gave you pause. Your Miguel, popping up in a golden haze. You found yourself gazing at his full lips, full and plump. If only he was here. He could have his lips on your--

“What are you doing?”

Lost in thought, you failed to realize that Miguel had been calling you by name again. You shook your hazy mind free of the thoughts that formed a swirling cloud over your head. You slumped down the wall and onto the floor.

Help was what you failed to say. As your mouth opened, nothing came out. The words were not wording. The vulnerability of asking for help was palpable. You soothed yourself by shifting your hands underneath your skirt. What would he think if he saw you here-- ripped asunder by your own biology? Whore. Miguel lowered his gaze, his eyes squinting at the sweat dabbling down your neckline as he looked you over. He wouldn't want you anymore.

“Are you listening? ¡Coño! What is wrong with you!?”

Resolve.

You resolved him. Your Miggy-- resolved. Oh, you swallowed dryly. He wasn’t going to be happy about that. It wasn’t a matter of if Miguel would come for you. It was a matter of when. When he had time to separate himself from trashing-- whatever was the closest object to him in the lab-- to take out his rage on you. You reached for your medicine cabinet. You had more important things to worry about. First on the list? The searing heat.

Your watch was better off tucked away in a chest in the closet.

Night came with no solutions. You crouched on your window sill, chest rising and falling. You sought to stare at anything but the mindless buzz of the tv screen inside. Even with light pollution, some stars winked in the distance. Your body was a bundle of warm heat, buzzing with irritation after a fruitless day of soothing your body. You grew accustomed to your pert nipples against your silky slip, the lubricant coursing down your leg. At first, denial. Now, acceptance. You thought tomorrow might be better.

You felt his presence before you heard, smelled, or saw him. Through the sea of scorched sensations battering your senses, there was one that stood apart. A tickle that niggled at the back of your head. It could have been anyone, but you didn’t have to guess to know who it was. “Lyla."

“You haven’t called him all day,” Lyla squeaked.

“Called all-- I answered his call!” Your dress was matted to your body, cloaked in an abhorrent amount of sweat. It was only minutes ago that you retrieved your watch confident that you could bullshit something, anything, for a few days of reprieve. You jammed your shaking finger to resolve the call.

“Not all of them. Miguel was worried.”

“Worried! Lyla, that is not worried,” you spat. That was your Miguel, scaling the side of your apartment. His talons cracking the siding of your apartment. The reverberations spiraled up your legs, sending waves of anticipation lapping at your core. After your long day, you weren't sure how you were still somehow upright. With every crack of his talon into the brick siding, you were running out of time to come up with an excuse.

In a bid to escape, you fell into your room. The hard floor knocked the breath out of your dry lips. You stumbled onto your feet and supported yourself with a bookcase of less than half-read books. “Lyla, he can’t see me like this!”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” she popped back up. “C’mon, you can tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

If her tone was playful in some half-baked attempt to neutralize your fight, the threat was imminent. Your hand connected with the top of the window, applying pressure to close the window. A hair too late. At the same time, Miguel’s clawed hand curled around the bottom of the window sash. You were too slow for the man who excelled with power, speed, and efficiency. You weren't going to win this fight. Not with your body threatening to crack at the very sight of your man's strength.

Though you saw him nearly daily, he always took your breath away. His sinewy body was always a sight, his suit accentuated his thick and fine cut. You moistened your lips, longing to run your fingers through his thick dark brown hair as you did every night. You caught his sharp gaze a second longer than you should have.

“Open up,” he whispered coolly.

He was a distraction. The wind was not on your side either, blowing wisps of his scent into your overwrought senses. His natural musk mixed with the sweat of a hard day's work. Somewhere in there, bitter blood. You could smell the caramelized scent of the flaky, buttery empanadas and hot coffee you shared the day before. It gave you pause, his intoxicating smell and the sultry trill of his voice. But you couldn’t let him see you, not like this.

“Oop, there he is. Just checking on you,” Lyla chittered. Resolve.

“Miggy, please go away,” you sobbed in frustration, shifting to shoulder the window. “Why are you so stubborn!?”

“It’s who I am.”

The window cracked all at once. With mere milliseconds to respond to the sash careening into the upper rail, you whirled past the bedroom door. Miguel broke into a run behind you with long strokes of his legs. He made contact, sending you barreling into your lazy sapphire couch from the impact. You saw stars for a fraction of a second before you lurched on your palms and elbows, scrambling off of the couch and across the floor. His hand caught your ankle and dragged you underneath his body.

“¡Ay!” you bit out. “No, no no no. Miggy!”

“¡Callate!”

His hand wrapped tightly around your throat to force complacency, pinning you back to the hardwood floor. Your palms slammed onto his chest, drawing lines down his chest. Bits of pathetic electricity fizzled on his broad, muscular chest, a consequence of your fading focus. That focus was eviscerated when Miguel threw his hips flat against your core. Your frantic fidgeting against Miguel soothed some of the terrible, buzzing pressure rattling between your legs like warm honey on a sore wound. The ache for his relief became more important than the impulse for substantial breaths.

“Don’t move. Why are you--”

“I can’t help it,” you cut him off, straining against his large palm to stare at his crotch. His gaze fell on yours, following the path to his soft cock. His eyes widened with the sudden attention. Tears threatened to spill over from your eyes, pricked with spikes of pain. "It's too much!"

You ate your shame with his body crouched between your legs and his large palm choking the air out of your throat. The influx of air not only brought your scent, but your day-long desperation to fix what you believed was wrong. He could smell it now. He could see it now. He could hear it in your voice. He knew why you failed to answer his calls. The violent jabbing of the resolve button. Throwing your watch into your cramped closet to ignore the calls. The pheromones that soaked your apartment. It was unavoidable.

“You can’t help it,” he repeated. Miguel considered you with razor-sharp eyes, nearly as sharp as the talons that rescinded into his arms.

"I'll see about that." His hand left your neck to reveal bundles of bumpy shivers that soared across your skin. He raised his finger to wipe away the wet tears that fell from your flushed cheeks. Then dropping lower, Miguel chased the thin straps of your gown with his claw and slid the offending fabric off of your breast. The nub was as hard as it had been hours ago when you twerked the nipple between your fingertips and dreamed of Miguel.

“You’re...” he cupped your breast in your palm and massaged your nipple with one sharp twist of his thumb. The gasp that left your lips wasn’t one you were proud of. Your undulating hips that ground down on his cock weren’t entirely unwarranted. You needed it. "Hot. As if you're in heat."

This couldn’t be happening. From a ball of rage to one of arousal, he released a tiny amused chuckle. You spent much of the day in different parts of the apartment with your hand, toy, ice, and water into your body to soothe this terrible ache. So Miguel wouldn't see you like this. It was this moment you sought to avoid after your long day: The moment of Miguel's disapproval. Now he laughed at you.

“Happy?” you sobbed into the forearm that kept Miguel stable. “Go away, someone else could use your stupid help.”

“Don’t you need me?” Miguel dipped his head down. Strands of his dark hair tickled your hypersensitive skin. With the lightweight fabric of his suit, pressing your cunt back against his clothed bulge felt wonderful. You bit your lower lip and watched his cock jut against its fabric. You lifted your puffy eyes to his gaze and found a wicked gleam there. He knew it wasn’t enough contact for the pressure and painful spasms to abate. Deep down, you knew that Miguel was your only hope for relief. Who else could, or would, you call in this condition? Mostly because Miguel always fixed everything.

"Miggy," you murmured. After this pitiful display, he wasn't rejecting you? Your mind flowed weightless and light. The terror of your day faded under his careful caress. In its place, comfort that he would take care of you.

“Don’t you?” His hand snaked between your folds and found it soaked wet, the low throbbing of your pussy palpable. He retracted his fingers and spread the sticky fluid between his thumb and middle finger. At some point, silence became better than an answer. Miguel brought his hand down on your cunt for a sharp slap. Bundles of nerves cried out under the abuse. It shook free a squeal from your lips, bitten raw by the pressure of the day. Your head bobbed into a mechanical nod as to save yourself from another slap.

“You know how to ask. It’s si Miguel, por favor Miguel.”

You needed the warm sensation of his cum. But making those words proved too difficult. Your canines pierced bloody holes in your lower lip. You clawed up his forearms, trying to leverage and force him closer. Miguel grabbed your shoulders and thrashed them back down onto the floor. You felt bad for the downstairs neighbors.

“Say it.”

“Miggy,” you looked into his eyes. They were blown wide, nearly fully black with a thin outline of scarlet, chasing the outline of your exposed breast. For all his talk, you realized he wasn't immune. Even with his face tight, his eyes focused on the same thing you needed. Maybe, all this time, you were baiting Miguel with half-assed answers. They were invitations. Invitations to come to fill this need you had. You would be lying if you said that wasn’t what you wanted this whole time. Finally, you had him where you wanted him.

Miguel broke eye contact first. He cupped his plush lips around your nipple, suckling the breast taut and wet. You cried out in surprise and arched into Miguel’s mouth, enticed by the fangs that grazed your nipple. As quickly as he came, he was gone.

You lurched up, palming Miguel's dick through his pants. His hips bucked into your palm. He refused to make any sound as he considered your next movements, releasing Miguel’s cock from his suit. Impatience and need coalesced into your brave movements, sliding your palm against him. He was impossibly thick and hard, dribbling at the tip. Miguel huffed a small noise as your palm ran over him. You dared to call it a moan.

Miguel sneered and shoved you back onto the floorboards. “I’ll only tell you one more time. Ask me properly.”

"You do too, don't you?" You giggled. A noise that grated his ear. With the belief you wouldn’t bolt, Miguel shifted back onto his knees. You wouldn’t. There was nowhere left to run. Not that you even wanted to, fat and hungry off Miguel's growing desperation.

"Come here." He snaked his hands underneath your knees, dragged you close, and pushed them to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut. Moments later, the sensation of his thick dick sliding against your engorged folds forced them back open. It gave you just enough relief through the pulsing pain to look at him with your hazy eyes. From this angle, you appreciated how large Miguel had gotten. His round cock-head bobbed and crested over your mound as it rubbed against your aching clit. His face was trained, focused. He wasn't going to relent first.

The nagging pressure never abated. You sought something more, something better, the sensation of being filled. With every glide, you squeezed your walls in protest to his absence. Your hips protested the restriction of your movement, shimmying against the firm hold he had that kept you in place. You wanted more than that. You wanted true relief from his teasing. Miguel drew back to inspect the fluid over his fat shaft as held you down. You gave in, whining at him like a brat.

“Por,” you scratched his forearms. “Por favor, Miggy. You don’t know what it's like.”

“All fours-- face down.”

The cacophony of desire battered and overcame any other human emotion you could have. You complied, crawling onto your fuzzy indigo rug for what came next. Miguel’s gloved hand skimmed across your ass, middle finger skimming toward the center. He followed up his gentle touch by reeling back his hand and cracking it across your ass, searing the nerves alive. Once, twice, and then a third. Tears pricked your cheeks again, a consequence of your nerves being overwrought and now assailed.

“Miggy!”

He shushed you with fervor, another thwack beating the jiggling flesh hot and red. Your legs trembled under the weight of his slaps. “Ignore my calls again and you’ll get much worse.”

“I didn’t-- you wouldn't want me,” your lips parted in defense of what you’d done. Miguel dipped down to spread your folds, rolling his index finger along your pulsing walls. Your body drew him in, squeezing and urging him forward. Your swollen walls were impossibly tight, straining to bring him in more and more.

"You know I do."

The need for more devoured any other thought, any threats of what he’d do next time. You rolled your hips to ride his hand. In place of a slap, Miguel slid another finger slid in beside the first to stretch your walls open. He faltered at your next words and slid his fingers free.

“Not like… not like I need you.”

“Who decides that?” he pressed on your upper back to force it down. You complied. Miguel stumbled forward, finally pressing his thick head to your pulsing entrance. His round head pressed, just barely, into your wet hole. You clenched down, inviting him into your warmth. You weren’t sure he’d actually give it to you. It was so damn close.

“You do, Miggy,” you murmured, pushing back. He watched as his shaft slowly disappeared into your body, your apprehension of retaliation rendered you too slow to finish.

Miguel snatched your waist and forced you to take the rest, a soppy squelch lubricating his shaft. The sound that slipped from your lips was entirely uncouth, punctuated by his unforgiving thrusts. Your walls strained around his cock. No matter how many times you took him, the drag of his cock and slap of balls against your body always felt somehow like the first. It filled that ache-- the consistent burning need to have him here, inside of your greedy body, scratching something that you could not itch all day. It’s what you wanted.

“That’s right, I do.” Miguel rumbled, short, punctuated thrusts beating your clenching cunt into complacency. The pleasure ruptured through your cunt-- battering his dick in response. He let loose a sharp grunt followed by a string of curses. Your sweet release spilled over his dick and balls, dripping down your thighs. Your legs threatened to shook, but Miguel was unwilling to allow your trembling legs to give out.

"Ah! Miggy!" His fangs punctured your shoulder to force you to stay in position, his pelvis stuttering against yours. His growl punctuated the warm, soothing cum that soothed your walls like warm honey over a wound. Your walls milked him free of his cum, spasming in response to his orgasm. He pieced himself together against your back, pulling his fangs free and settling a soft kiss over the burning wound on your shoulder. As if he hadn't been the one to tear his fangs into the crook of your neck.

“You’re not letting go,” he hummed in annoyance. He turned his attention down to your ass, ghosting his fingers over the healing bruises over your backside. You squealed, jerking forward. He followed you forward, punching a hole in the floor by your side. “Fuck, don’t move!”

You cast your attention back toward Miguel. He huffed forcefully out of his nostrils. He motioned toward your ass as if it were obvious-- your walls were clamped over his cock, unwilling or otherwise unable to let him go, as if he had any more cum to give in that current moment. You took it all.

“I. I didn't-- I can’t--”

“Yeah, I know. That Bee venom does that. Mine should neutralize it.”

At some point, you murmured. It sure as hell wasn’t doing it now, keeping him seated into your cunt that bubbled with the mixture of his and your release. “You knew about it? I could have died!”

Miguel chuckled.

“You wouldn’t. You’re too stubborn to die,” he sighed, fiddling with his watch. The tests-- that you never had ran. Ones that he suggested. Ones that you refused quite openly. “Why would I deny myself the fun?”

His cock slipped free. Your hips dropped and fell slack against the floor. You weren’t proud of the cum that oozed out of your ass over your decimated room, nor the fact that your useless neighbors hadn’t called for help once. Not that you needed it-- but still. You palpated your stomach, slightly distended. Miguel bent down and gathered the mixture of your bodily fluids on his fingers, suckling his own fingers dry. You watched his wet tongue swirl around his fingertips. It wasn't fair.

“Fun? What fun!? Do you know how long I-- You’re a mean man, Miguel O’Hara.”

He lurched over, his breath tickling your lips. He kissed you, salty and sweet. Your nose scrunched up, pouting against his lips. He left the room for the kitchen, fetching a wet cloth to clean his body with. He zipped himself back into his suit shortly after and dropped the sodden cloth by the cum puddling under your ass.

“Never said I wasn’t.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #Miguel ohara/reader #atsv imagine #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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sillysowa · 1 year

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SEXTAPE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT, STARTS OFF PRETTY CUTE BUT GETS KINKY

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: PERVY HOBIE, VAGINAL FINGERING, BITING, SLIGHT DEGRADATION(?), HOBIE FINGERS YOU WHILE YOU PLAY GUITAR, RECORDING SEX

AUTHORS NOTE: I LOVE THIS SONG AND I FULLY KNOW ITS NOT DIRTY, BUT ITS MY INSPIRATION. (‘TING’ IS JUST SLANG FOR THING!)

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE JUST CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIS GIRL PLAYING HER GUITAR

—

Your amateur fingers danced over your electric guitar, a messier version of Sextape by Deftones ringing out in your empty room. Your amp blinked, your room was freezing, and you found yourself growing more comfortable with the beginning riff. This song was important to you—Hobie having introduced it to you on your first date when he drove you home. It was late, and you were tired, but the song left a mark on you.

The window was open like it always was, awaiting your lover boy. Hobie was at Headquarters for god knows what reason, and he had been gone very long now. You had no way of knowing when he’d be home, busting yourself with your new hobby. It was strange and it was difficult, but when you got it, it sounded beautiful.

Hobie had had an exhausting day, wishing he could be home with you the whole time he was at HQ, but understanding the need for his help. Finally, he was out of there, walking back into London through a portal and sighing in relief. He was standing on the side of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets, walking up the wall and pausing when he heard you cursing,

“Shit, No! I just had it are you kidding?” You grunted, awkwardly adjusting your fingers for the chord you were desperately trying to perfect. Hobie’s ears pricked up, the sound instantly earning his undivided attention as he crouched outside your window, head peeking in just enough to not catch your attention but to give him a good view of you.

To you, you looked a mess. To Hobie, you looked like something straight out of a wet dream—your hair was out of your face, (whether that’s with a bonnet, hair tie, or whatever works for you!) and you were in just your underwear and a tank top. Your guitar was on your lap, and the frustration in your face went straight to his dick. Hobie couldn’t help it, you just looked so ravishing when you were upset.

You were in the middle of the chorus when your boyfriend Hobie makes his arrival through your window, but you don’t jump, you’re used to it by now.

“Hobie, I was beginning to think you’d be gone all ni-“ You start, beginning to take your guitar sling off when Hobies large hands outstretch towards you, palms up,

“Wait-wait-wait! I wanna hear! Don’t wanna miss the show.” He smirks, backing away when you reposition your guitar with a slight eye roll. Hobie just laughs at you as he gets changed,

“It’s really not any good so far, Hobie, and i’ll probably mess up if you’re watching.” You whine, not exactly interested in embarrassing yourself in front of your experienced boyfriend.

“Hey don’t even start with all that, you’re doing great, luv, and I wanna hear the progress.” Hobie quips, a finger pointed towards you as he nears the bed. You’re surprised when Hobie gets real close next to you and then ushers you to scoot forward a bit, then it clicks,

“Hobie-“

“What?” He says, feigning innocence as he invites you to sit with your back to his chest, his legs spread to give you room. You sigh when you realize he won’t let you not do this, positioning yourself,

“You’re such a perv, Hobie.”

“Yeah and you love it.” He smirks, pulling you real close.

You position your fingers on the neck of the guitar, momentarily forgetting what song you were playing. You feel Hobie’s hands on your thighs, and you try to focus. The songs starts. It’s surprisingly steady sounding, and the strings aren’t buzzing like earlier.

“That’s it, good job.” Hobies deep voice rumbles behind you, almost causing you to lose track. You’re playing the song as best as possible, shifting slightly, completely unaware of the effect it was having on Hobie. You feel his fingers creep down to your covered slit, and you pause,

“Hobie?” You question with a slight tilt of your head only for him to grab your chin and face you forward again, hushing you,

“Keep playing.” His voice instantly silences you, and you follow his command, fingers dancing across the strings and continuing the song. You shiver as he starts to rub your clit through your panties, praising you when you do well, giving you tips when you mess up.

A chill trickles down your spine as Hobie moves your underwear to the side, spitting on his fingers before he slowly pushes two into you,

“Ngh~ Hobie! I-I can’t by play like this!” You moans and squirm, only resulting in a toothy grin to take over his features,

“Sure ya can, sweetheart. Just focus f’me.” Hobie reassures you, his voice deep and raspy. He starts to steadily pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, which is being embarrassingly loud while you play.

“Mmm~ Ha~ Hobie~!” You moan, struggling to keep playing as he speeds up. The feeling of his fingers curling into that soft spot inside you drives you crazy, and you struggle,

“Finish the beautiful song for me love, I know you can.” Hobie whispers in your ear, kissing your neck and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. He fingers you so fast you see stars, and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore, moaning anything and everything that you feel. Hobie whispers in your ear the whole time,

“Oh you poor ting can’t even play anymore, feels that good yeah?” He chuckles, picking up speed when he feels your walls clenching around him. Your guitar is long forgotten, Hobie fingering you to your release like it’s a sport to him. When your back arches and you cum, Hobie leaves small bites on your neck and sucks hickeys all over, boner throbbing against your back as he whimpers at the sounds of your pleasure.

“Good girl baby, good girl.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out of your pussy while you whine, then tapping them on your lips, “Clean em up dollface.” He groans, cock hard against you as you suck his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them. When he pulls them out, he pulls your guitar over your head and web shoots it onto the wall, mounting it. Hobie grabs your neck, his jewelry clanging in the process as he gets up on his knees. He frees his cock and bends you over, your ass up and head down while you grip the sheets, incredibly flustered and shy from his sudden horniness. Suddenly, Hobie pulls your neck back and his phone is right in front of you. He records your expression when he thrusts into you, both of you moaning loudly before Hobie grunts,

“Smile for the camera, luv.”

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown angst #spiderman #Spotify #silly’s fics

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 1 year

Text

Hobie Brown, Emotional Preparation, and the Art of Great Dialogue

Nearly all of Hobie's dialogue is written with his goal - protecting and preparing Miles for Miguel's abuse - in mind, even if it may not be obvious at first watch.

Here's an unhinged breakdown where I over-analyze literally every one of Hobie’s lines and explain how every sentence was written to contribute directly to Miles’ radicalization.

Hollywood. Pay your writers. (:

___________________________________________________

Hobie has around 10 minutes screentime total, but for the sake of introductions and this analysis, let's start at the end of the battle, and the beginning of the quantum hole.

Starting with his first line in the scene:

"I don't follow orders. Neither does he."

All morals considered, Hobie doesn't seem like the type to speak for someone who can speak for themselves - he's a punk after all. But here, he speaks for Miles. This line serves to tell Miles 'I don't respect them, why should you?', but funnily enough, it can also be a point to Jess, as if to say 'Miles isn't interested.' - even if he is.

"Bit much, innit?"

While, Hobie and Mile's next interaction is their exchange in the elevator, the scene leads to Mile's introduction to the Society. Miles gawks at the lobby, obviously impressed. Gwen affirms this awe, telling him 'this is just the lobby.' However, Hobie feels the need to chime in. His next dialogue 'Bit much, innit?' is a subtle nudge to Miles that the society is not a place to be in awe off. It's a spectacle, one that's a bit overdone. Knowing Miles now sees Hobie as cool, Hobie makes it known - he sees the Society as uncool.

"Gwendy, How much have you told him? About his place in all this? Maybe not enough."

'So what happened about that small elite strike-team?' - 'Most of these are part time.' This is by far one of Hobie's more interesting lines, and I wrote about it here. But in short, this is Hobie's soft but direct confrontation of Gwen. After Gwen lies to Miles in front of him, Hobie immediately asks how much Gwen has revealed to him. And when she tries to play it off, he openly says 'Maybe that's not enough.' He's not angry with Gwen, but he is disappointed, which in turn motivates him to have his discussion with Miles.

"Super humane, and not creepy."

One of my favorites, because it's hard to catch and to the point. After talking about Hobie and Gwen's mission history, they're taken to Margo and the control room. As Miles marvels at Margo and the Go-Home-Machine, and Gwen says she voted against it. However, Hobie says blatantly: 'Holy shit, Miles isn't this inhumane and weird???', validating that the Society is willing to do inhumane, hurtful stuff to those it deems 'misplaced'.

Next comes Hobie's confrontation with Miles.

Because Hobie knows this is his last movements with Miles before he meets Miguel, and this is where if final push of emotional support kicks in, before he goes quiet in front of Miguel.

And because this conversation is so well layered, I think it's best to go line by line. ______________________________

H: "Bet this doesn't even do anything." M: "Maybe it did before you ripped it out of a wall!"

Hobie has now confirmed that he'll be making an exit soon. And he begins his finally sweep of parts he needs for his watch, stocking up his pockets. He's not stealing to steal. He knows he's leaving and this is his last chance to get what he needs before he's out the door.

"Propaganda, bro! It's to distract you from the truth!"

HOLY SHIT I missed this one. Notice how in this shot, Gwen is not visible at all. Hobie notices they're out of hershot of her for the first time. And his first line is - 'Propaganda.' Their watches can take them anywhere. When Gwen needed to, she was taken to exactly where she needed in Mumbattan. But when they're heading towards HQ, Jessica makes them walk through the lobby. They could have been sent directly to Miguel's station, but instead she makes them do the whole tour, which serves as a flex of muscle. In order, Miles was shown the massive number of members in the Society, then their prisoners, then the go-home-machine. Only THEN can they see Miguel. All of which was intent to intimidate Miles on purpose. Hobie tells him directly: 'Everything you just saw was propaganda.'

M: And what's that?

"I ain't got a Scooby Doo, mate. Cause that's what they want."

One of the most iconic and notable of his quotes. Cockney aside, this line ties back in with his discussion with Gwen just a couple minutes before. They've done their tour and walk. Both Jess and Gwen have been given a chance to prime or explain to Miles anything, and both have chosen not to. So Hobie simply tells him, 'They want you in the dark. And they're sending you into a fight.'

The next line is:

H: Why do you want to be part of this lot? M: To get a watch. H: Make your own watch.

Miles sucks his teeth at Hobie.

Because of this - Hobie begins to change methods. Which I cannot stress is incredibly perceptive of him.

Miles is exasperated with him. So instead of dissuasion and making the society out to be uncool, he tries to turn Miles' attention towards his family.

"Bet you got a nice setup, huh? Nice parents?"

This line is a very well done one, with two things of notice. First, I find it interesting that the screenplay phrases this line as a question, not a sentence. Hobie is asking. He's taking a shot in the dark here. And this is backed up by his delivery; Hobie hesitates while saying this. The only line in which he does so. He may not know about Miles' mom and dad, because Gwen hadn't met them when she met Hobie. But still, Hobie asks, hoping the reminder of Miles' parents will dissuade him from continuing.

M: They're fine. H: [After this line, Hobie turns black and white momentarily. Potentially a nod to the fact that this conversation is the only 'black and white' one Miles has had so far.] M: But we got into a fight. They just want what's best for me, so...

[Hobie frowns. The scene and dialogue REALLY starts to pick-up from here.]

"That's a bloody shame. Because you're not ready for everyone else."

As the scene progresses Hobie goes from behind Miles, to beside him like an ally. Then, when Gwen finally comes back into frame, Hobie crosses in front of him. When Miles mentions his parents wanting what's best for him, Hobie warns that everyone else does not want what's best for him. At the same time, visually Gwen has her back to Miles, and Hobie puts himself between Miles and Gwen, trying to block his path. The scene is set up to show that in Hobie's eyes, Gwen is turning her back on Miles. She does not have his best interest in mind. Hobie is telling Miles 'They're using propaganda on you, they're keeping you in the dark, and they do not have your best interest at mind. You're not ready for this." And he physically tries to block Miles from continuing, one last time.

Miles goes through Hobie, and now within earshot of Gwen again, this is Hobie's final chance and push to get as much information into Miles as he can - without freaking Miles out. Above all else, he needs Miles to be prepared, confident, and willing to fight back.

His voice becomes more serious, and he starts speaking more straight-forward and a lot less cryptically.

"Listen to me, bruv. The whole point of being Spider-man is your independence. Being your own boss, you don't need all this!"

I think Hobie saying this reveals a lot about his character, especially understanding the context where he's from. While many Spider-men would agree that being Spider-man is about responsibility and power - to Hobie, it is about independence, and freedom. Hobie is a freedom fighter, and one of the only Spider-men besides Noir that knows how to fight systemic threats as well as physical ones. To him, being Spiderman is about being able to free yourself and others. It's about independence and freedom, and he's trying to nail that in Miles' head one last time.

M: Then why are you here?

"Looking out for my drummer, is all."

As the scene is coming to a close, the writers chose this time to reveal some of Hobie's motivations, starting with the independence comment, and now this. Despite knowing about Gwen's deception towards Miles, he is still looking out for her - and Miles. This is the writers' and Hobie's last push to solidify himself as an ally to Miles and the viewer.

M: I want to be in a band. I want to see my friends, and I need a watch to do that. G: Guys, come on.

"Alright, Squashed. Just don't enlist until you know about who you're fighting."

I genuinely had to sit and ask myself why the writers would choose to leave Hobie's collective effort - a LOT of effort - with this line. And honestly, I think it's a perfect segway. Hobie chooses his words very clearly; He doesn't say 'what', he says 'who'. The next scene leads into Miguel's intro, and up until this point, Miles doesn't know who he is. He only knows about the Society, but never who is at the top. We know about Miguel, but all Miles knows is his name. That's why Hobie says 'who you're fighting'. Because the Society isn't really a Society, and this isn't really between Miles and the Society at all. It's a dictatorship - and the person he's enlisting to fight is Miguel. The perfect introduction and warning to the person he's about to meet. He's telling Miles, 'Don't rush into it. Wait until you meet Miguel first'. And when Miles does meet Miguel, he finally sees that this isn't the place he thought it was, just like Hobie said. ALSO EVEN MORE INTERESTINGLY - THIS is one of the lines that is changed between the two versions of spiderverse (there are two theatrical versions on release.) In the alternative he says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting.' And I think that the fact the writers chose to publish two different versions of this line goes to show how powerful they knew this line would be in Miles' characterization. There is so much Hobie has left to say to him, but only one line - and so we get two versions. How fun!

With the scene now over, we see a change in Hobie's demeanor, and I love the writers' choice to have the shot linger on Hobie.

We see him give Miles a look that isn't exactly full of confidence, but from this point forward, Hobie chooses to hang back, no longer having any motivation to instigate. He knows his work here is done, and now all he can really do is wait for Miguel to reveal his true colors, and hope that he got through enough to Miles that he will react, and fight back.

And closing out the scene - I noticed that when Peter B. arrives Hobie pointedly says

"Oh boy, Humbling Reality Spider-man has arrived."

All I'll say about this is Hobie has to be Jamaican cause that was so mfing rude shgjfkghjgjkdfjk

Hobie has about three lines between this point and then end of his screentime - Two of which were his lines to Mayday, and his comment during the canon events.

But there is one shot of him before it all happens. And after this shot the movie begins staging Hobie in specific a very different way than anyone else.

The moment begins with Miles' line 'My Dad is about to be captain.'

The camera pans to each character. Gwen, Peter, and Jess all avert their eyes. Miguel looks at Miles. And Hobie is the only one who looks at all of them. Instead of looking down, he looks to the others, in anticipation of whats going to happen. It's also important to note that this was probably news to Hobie. He probably didn't know Miles' dad was a cop - or at the very least going to be captain. So the understanding of just how much trouble Miles is in kinda multiplies in this moment.

Then, this happens

From this point forward, every time Hobie is portrayed, he is shown as separate from the other characters, always being divided from the group - with Miles as the divider. Even as the camera moves, Hobie visually remains - quite literally - as the only person in Miles' corner. And as the scene goes on, he moves farther and farther into that corner.

Until finally the scene comes to a climax, and Hobie gets two shots to himself - delivering his final lines.

"Here we go." - "Hobie, You're not helping." - "Good."

GUYS IM GONNA CRY OKAY IM GONNA CRY

This is Hobie seeing his work pay off. This is him knowing that he got through to Miles and that it was worth it. He's proud of him.

Hobie knew what he came to do, and he used literally every line he said to Miles to the FULLEST extent. He doesn't give a fuck if he's not helping the Society. He's helping Miles. And now he knows his work is done.

Being a punk is not about being a hero, it's about empowering those who feel powerless. HE UNDERSTOOD THE MOTHERFUCKING ASSIGNMENT.

IN SHORT - HOLLYWOOD PAY YOUR FUCKING WRITERS I SWEAR TO GOD.

if you read this far let me know :) thanks bye

#ill repost the ending as its own post as well yay #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #miles morales #gwen stacy #jessica drew #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv analysis #across the spiderverse #spidergwen #spiderwoman #peter parker #peter b parker

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drabblesandimagines · 6 months

Text

Cramped

Inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting prompt 1080! "I can't stop thinking about kissing you." "And what are you going to do about that?" Leon Kennedy x gn reader

“I can’t do this.” Leon mutters under his breath, but you hear it as clear as day from your position.

How could you not, seeing as you’re currently only an inch away from his chest, his head nearly resting atop your own?

You’ve been trapped in this tiny storage cupboard for at least 20 minutes now, waiting for Hunnigan to give the all-clear that all 27 heat signals had dispersed from outside your current location. You would describe yourself as a relatively decent shot, Leon more so, but the numbers weren’t in your favour.

“Claustrophobic?” You whisper back, cautious that your voice may carry. You wish you could shift your left foot ever so slightly, currently standing awkwardly over a bucket that was sat at the bottom at the cupboard when you entered.

“No.” He has his hands braced either side of you against the opposite wall, seemingly caging you in more than the cupboard is. Your arms awkwardly hung by your side, painfully aware of how if you moved even slightly forward you’d be pressing your front into his chest, fingers ghosting against his hips.

“I can’t do this.” Leon says again. “Missions - with you.”

“Oh, come on,” you wish you could step back so you could give him a proper withering stare. “You can’t blame me every time something goes wrong. The intel definitely said only five guards were on site at any one time.”

“No. I mean, I…” He’d rub the bridge of his nose if he could bring his arm forward to do it without hitting you in the process. “I can’t concentrate.” You scoff, immediately defensive. “And how is that my fault?” “Because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you!” Silence. “Oh.” “Yes, oh.” He mocks, frustrated. He's meant to be better than this. Hell, he usually is when the two of you are paired up. Leon’s flirty, sure, but he knows to be professional when it’s a matter of life and death, and trapped in a cupboard with a number of hostiles outside is definitely a time when he should be at his most focused. But ever since the two of you retreated in here, all he can think about is how close you are, how good you smell, the warmth of your body pressed up against his, how he could place his fingers under your chin, tilt your head up… “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Sorry?” He looks down at you in disbelief, sure he’s misheard. “I said,” you lift your hand and trail your fingers up his chest before you rest it just above his pounding heart and meet those soft blue eyes. “What are you going to do about it?”

He doesn’t need a third invitation, dropping his hands from the wall. One arm wraps around your waist, bringing you needlessly forward that final inch, your left thigh finding its way between his in lieu of anywhere else to go. His other hands grabs the back of your head and tilts it up to meet his lips, stealing your breath with a deep, frantic kiss... Hunnigan smiles to herself as she leans back in her chair at HQ, your voices falling silent on the comms in what she suspects is the result of other activity – Leon had left the channel open when you'd been forced to find cover. It’s only when she hears Kennedy let out a muffled moan that she taps to disconnect the audio, her suspicions now well and truly confirmed. The computer screen in front of her shows a blueprint of the factory, where two red dots reside in the small storage cupboard she’d directed them to after she’d ‘alerted’ them to the unwelcome company. She still needs to work out how to explain the sudden disappearance of 27 hostiles, but it’s worth it so she won’t be forced to watch the two of you dance awkwardly around each other in the office anymore.

--- This is probably the closest to a drabble I've ever gotten despite my blog name, ha! Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

PS: Thanks to @porcelainseashore for helping me clarify the ending <3

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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mikgreo · 3 months

Note

hi! 🙈

do you also find it really attractive when guys say I know, baby I know. or something along those lines (///w///)

if your taking them could i request jik or hq characters doing this in some scenario/drabble. please feel no rush/pressure.

take care of your self too:)

“i know baby, i know.”

ft. jjk + hq boys fluff, slight nsfw, humor.

tags. nsfw for gojo oikawa and kuroo, rest are cute scenarios + some hcs i made on some.

chars. gojo/oikawa+ kuroo, geto/osamu, toji/atsumu, inumaki/kenma, yuji/hinata, megumi/kageyama, choso/suna, todo/bokuto, nanami/akaashi

a/n. tysm nonnie!! i didnt know if u wanted them separate or just in a group category..couldnt resist not giving gojo oikawa and kuroo smut. i hope this was what u wanted:((

gojo, oikawa, kuroo

you were sprawled out on his bed in his apartment. you were gripping the soft cushion sheets in pleasure, gritting your teeth, occasionally biting your lower lip to halt your moans. his long skinny fingers scissored their way through your gummy walls as if they owned the place. the tips of his calloused fingers hitting your g-spot everytime he thrusted in. you hated how vulnerable you became, how you melted like putty just from his fingers- but it just felt soo good. he knew your insides like no one else, knew all your sweet spots and how to make you cum. he was big- big being in understatement. he was huge, in your eyes atleast. prep was needed, always. even though you hated how long it took to get you ready.

“hngh.. i want you now- please!~” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder, as he looked up to you with a frown. “want you insideee..ngh! can’t wait...~”

“i know baby, i know. you’ll get it soon, ‘kay? i just dont wan’ it to hurt, my love.” he said softly, adding a third finger in. “just a little bit more, okay princess?”

geto, osamu

it was 3am, and you could not sleep. you tried scrolling through twitter and instagram for some time, but couldn’t. thats when you opened up tiktok, fully forgetting that, tiktok.. was a music app. and your volume…was halfway up. so when you opened it, it blasted for a second before you quickly swiped off the app, why were you so scared? well..

“y/n, what the fuck.. why are you up, go to sleep girl.”

your boyfriend was sleeping, and you hated waking him up.

“but i can’t sleep sugu/‘samu!! im not tireddd.” you whined, pouting. as if he could see you.

“dont care, go to bed or im snatching your phone away. l/n.” he growled and sat up rubbing his eyes.

“noo im sorry. please i cant sleep, babe!!”

“i know baby, i know. what if we cuddle and i tell you about my plans for tomorrow, hm? maybe it’ll help.”

toji, atsumu

“i want a dog.” you said glaring at him, who was sat on your couch.

“i know baby, i know. but yk we cant.. im fuckin allergic ‘member??” he shot you a mocking facial expression.

“but its okay, you can just take some Benadryl and you’ll be fineee! its not a big deal toji / ‘tsumu.” you pouted.

you walked over to him and sat on his lap facing him.

“if yur tryna seduce me into agreeing, its not g’na work babe.” he put his hands on your waist.

“ughhh!! can we atleast get like a cat or something?? please babyyy.”

“let’s leave this conversation for a different day, y/n.” he replied before pulling you into a hot kiss...that led to making out.. that led to your own personal problem for tonight.

inumaki, kenma (I PUT BOKUTO AND YUJI BC I WAS ORIGINALLY GONNA HAVE AKAASHI AND MEGUMI IN THIS TOO BUT I CHANGED MY MIND.. SO PRETEND IT SAYS PANDA FOR INUMAKI..)

yuji, hinata

it was getting late… too late. your boyfriend had a day off and decided to spend it by sleeping, completely forgetting the fact that you two agreed on walking around the park today.. he was just soo lazy :(

“sweetheart….get upppp. its 12pm, you needa wake up.” you whined as your boyfriend tightened his grip around your body. he was big spooning you, a position where not even an earthquake could move him out of.

“mmm, i know baby, i know. just…five more- five minutes.” he groaned into your ear, you could feel the warm breath against your earlobe, it sending tingles down your neck to your spine.

“if you get up, ill take a shower with you, and make you waffles.”

you had never seen him get up from bed that fast before.

megumi, kageyama

you and your boyfriend were having you weekly movie night, you were under his right arm while you layed your head on his lap, using the blanket to cover your view of the flat screen.

“babe….i dont wanna watch this..its scary.” you pout as you attempt to sink deeper into your boyfriends arms.

“i know baby, i know.. but i love this movie, so can we please keep it on?” he scratched the back of his neck.

“ughhh, couldn’t we just watch inside out 2 or something babeee??” you whined.

“that’s a kids movie, im fine where im at.” he flicked you on the forehead.

“stoppp!! owww.” you cried out.

choso, suna

you two were watching moana in his room, the room was dark and you were both on his bed, cuddling. everything was fine until there was a loud noise which you thought came from the kitchen. you thought nothing of it but your boyfriend…

“did you hear that? what the fuck.” he sat up.

“babe…you better not.” you warned him with a glare.

“it was a fucking ghost, y/n. i fucking told you theyre real. theres no way im letting somethi-”

you cut him off, “girl, ghosts are not damn real. if you dont lay your ass right back down i swear to god.”

“i know baby, i know.. but you gotta really think about it, what else could it be?” he bit down on his thumbnail.

“shut up, cho/rin.”

todo, bokuto

you were sitting on the dinner table- across from your boyfriend, who had told you he had something really important to talk to you about. some minutes passed and he was just sitting there, hands interlocked together, his leg beating up and down.

“babe…is everything all right? its been like 3 minutes are ya gonna say something?..” you softly spoke.

“there’s something..i gotta own up to.” he spoke, not moving a muscle.

“oh fuck no, if you cheated on me i swear to god-”

“are you crazy?,” he finally moved from his position and gave you a puzzled look, “of course not, its just..”

he took a long deep breath..

“when i was 5 years old, i went with my mom to the store. she was browsing and i wondered off and.. i saw this lollipop, that i really, like really wanted. and i picked it up and asked her if i could get it, of course my mother being my mother she said no. so i got angry.. and stuffed it in my little pocket. and she checked out and i got away with it. and i just keep thinking about it, and the more serious we get with our relationship i just cant bare the everlasting weight and guilt of this act i decided to act upon. so im telling you now.. if you wanna make your choice on whether you still wanna date a criminal like me.”

you got up from you seat, and sighed.

“i hope its April 1st today.”

nanami, akaashi

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spdrwdw · 9 months

Text

♡ Smutty Miguel HeadCanons ♡

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

I did a poll last week on what Miguel headcanons I should do next and smutty migheadcanons was the winner (I will also do headcanons for my runner-up so stay tuned!)

Miguel loves morning sex. Both of you are still sleepy and it's nice and slow. His voice is still raspy as he whispers sweet nothings to you

Whenever Miguel has had a stressful day, either at work or at HQ, he will come home to you and cuddle, groping your breasts, thighs, ass, etc., trying to get you turned on some way so he can release some tension. It usually works and can go either way: sweet, passionate lovemaking, or feral and raw sex

Miguel is aware of his brute strength, and has broken furniture from time to time, especially beds/bed frames. As to not hurt you, he will grip onto the bed frame behind you. You could he the splintering cracking of the wood, however, your mind a haze as Miguel fucks you into the mattress

While Miguel isn't a fan of quickies (he loves taking his sweet time with you and watch you come undone) he will consider it is he has a sudden mission he has to go to. He needs his fix of you any way he can

If you are a spider-person, you and Miguel have definitely done it in his office. The echoing of skin-to-skin would bounce off the walls. One time, Peter had the misfortune of walking in on you two as you did it on the platform. At least he didn't see you guys. Now Lyla has to inform you guys whenever someone is approaching the office whenever you two decide to go at it like rabbits

Public sex was something Miguel never done until you came along. The sudden thrill of the thought of being caught from behind the bushes or in the bathroom stalls brought an adrenaline rush to the both of you

Miguel LOVES when you give him a show with new lingerie that you had recently bought. Unfortunately, the lacy fabrics would be torn to shreds from his talons due to his excitement. At least it'll give you an excuse to buy more!

Miguel will eat you out like a man STARVED. He's a slobbering mess down there, all tongue and teeth. He will use his fingers from time to time when he wants you to orgasm, or if he wants to tease you

He also loves receiving blowjobs from you. He'll praise you telling you you're "such a good girl" for making him feel good

(Might make a part 2 to this! Let me know if you guys want me to ❤️)

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel headcanons

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allthelovenina · 4 months

Text

Gone girl

Give this man a break.

Summary: you basically triggered his abandonment issues

Warning: MDNI, smut, not sfw.

Sensual, smut, slow burn(I guess? I mean I tried so-)

English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for the grammatical and dictation mistakes.

Two whole months.

No, two months and 4 days to be exact. That's how many days you were gone. You left your resignation on Erwin's desk and left the scouts with no farewell. No one knew where you went to and no one was really concerned. After all, it wasn't unusual for scouts to quit.

No one except for Levi. At first, he was in denial, telling Erwin that he must look for you, that you wouldn't leave just like that and something was oddly off, what if someone forced you out? What if someone kidnapped you? The first few days were indescribable. He felt helpless, desperate and worried. Erwin would talk to him, tell him there was no reason for anyone to kidnap or threaten you, also Hange had seen you leave with your stuff packed in a suitcase in the middle of the night and you told them that you were leaving for a quiet life. He was heartbroken. You left without saying a word to him. He felt stupid for thinking he was special. He felt played and betrayed.

On one hand, he was relieved that you wouldn't be putting your life in danger anymore, that you were more likely to live a long and happy life. But on the other hand, why didn't you tell him? Wasn't he worthy of a proper farewell? Why wouldn't you at least write to him? He didn't admit it, but ever since you had left, he would check his mailbox every day. Desperately looking forward to a letter from you. On his days off, he would leave the HQ to the city, wishing to see you somewhere on a random street. How helpless and pathetic he felt, wandering around the crowded city all day long until his legs gave up. Yep, the legs that belonged to humanity's strongest soldier, the very legs that would be searching countless hours outside the walls would give up after almost 18 hours of walking and carrying the weight of this man's concern and despair. He felt like he lost his safe spot once again, his home, his lover.

He just needed to see you doing fine, that was all. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound. He swore to himself he wouldn't be mad or bitter if he saw you in a good state of health, he wouldn't yell and blame you for leaving him with no words. All because he couldn't help but feel like you were in danger.

He never gave up on searching for you but he didn't seem as concerned from outside after a while. To everyone, he was like his usual self again. However, he would be getting even less sleep, lose his temper even faster and barely eat.

One night he had the documents signed, read and summarised. Ready to be on Erwin's desk. He left his office for Erwin's only to find you there, in the corridor. His eyes were wide open in shock for a second and then his uninterested expression came back as he let out a loud sigh. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You remained speechless. You didn't really expect him to be this grumpy and oh if you only knew, he was controling himself. Otherwise you'd know "grumpy".

"I...I'm back."

"Changing your mind so easily is not like you." He was angry...furious yet so sad and also happy all at the same time. You left, you hurt him, made him feel like a fool and there you were standing in front of him looking prettier than ever, making him feel the butterflies in his stomach. You made him furious.

He wanted to cry and ask you why did you do that and selfishly beg you not to leave again, even for a quite less dangerous life. You made him sad.

But you were back! In one piece, you weren't dead and didn't seem to be injured(in a fatal serious way at least), he felt relieved. Your mere presence made him happy.

"I...wasn't really gone, Levi. I was sent to wall Sina for a secret mission. In order to steal some documents from the MP and gain information about their next move. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but that was Erwin's wish."

Betrayal after betrayal. How dare you all? How dares Erwin to take away what was his and convince him she was the unfaithful one? He was just about to storm into Erwin's office and give that bastard a lesson when he felt your arms around his waist and your face buried in his neck.

"I missed you..." you mumbled and it crashed his soul because he could hear in your voice how broken you were. "It was a long nightmare...and you weren't there...I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you about the mission."

Your grip on his body tightened, he could feel your tears moistening his neck leaving it warm and wet. All of that anger gave its place to sympathy.

"I...was really worried. I never disobeyed his orders why would he do this to me?" Levi asked, almost whispering.

"He thought...it would be better for my cover if you were unaware, you know. "

"That's stupid. What about Hange? Did they know?"

"No...they didn't."

You remained quiet in his arms for a while with his hands brushed against your hair. "I missed you too...I was worried sick but ...you're back to me..."

Back to me, back in my arms. My love, my angel, pretty girl. I love you so much.

His words in his mind sounded so different from what he actually said. "You idiot. Don't ever do that again." He pulls you out of his arms to cup your soft face with his calloused rough hands. Giving you the luxury of his soft glare. "Let's go to my room. Erwin can wait for his documents after fucking me up like this. "

It didn't take long for him to take you to his room, pin you down on the bed and devour your soft lips. He couldn't get enough, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hands travelled from your hair to your face and then went lower on your delicate neck. Hell, only if you and him met under different circumstances, you'd make the perfect wife for him with your grace and inner beauty. How much he wished for a quiet life with you in the countryside, but that was no option right now. At this moment the most he could get from you was this. Sticking his tongue basically in your throat, swirling around yours while gripping your hip with one hand your breasts with the other. He needed to breathe, but he could still hold on. He wanted to waste no second of having you. (even on catching his breath)

Until he felt your hands on his chest, pushing him away to catch breath, you were a panting mess. Your hair all out of place, covered in sweat and blush all over your face. Oh, how much he missed seeing you like this.

He started unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your body but didn't take it off. He moaned only at the sight of it and had his lips on your clothed nipples. The friction and the dampness from his saliva gave you a delicious tease. You deserved this; be teased. A merciful punishment from Captain Levi, for putting him through hell and back. Yes, you had no control over it, but in a way, you did.

He moved back on your neck, making sure your neck would be covered in hickeys that looked like a beautiful amethyst necklace around your neck.

"L...let me kiss your neck too."

"No. You don't get to touch me unless I say so."

How cruel of him. "B...but I missed you, let me show y...you baby. How much I m...missed you."

You had a silver tongue that almost got Levi. Almost. But he stood on his ground. "Bad girls don't get their wishes met."

You moaned in desperation but knew better than to talk back. He was impatient and didn't even waste time undoing your bra (which he always had difficulty with) instead he ripped it off. You were surprised by his action, never had seen him like this. He had always been so...reserved but now he just tore the strap of your bra and invaded your breasts. Spitting on them and smearing them on your breasts, pinching your nipples until you begged him to move on to the actual business, only to get a hard smack on them. He then leaned on you and bit them red and hot. The bite marks were gonna last a day or two on your skin. His mouth ran all over your upper body from up to down until it reached your skirt. He smirked. Pulling the waistband down with his teeth halfway, he got up to pull the rest with his hands and get the full view of you from above.

You were so pretty, all flushed and helpless under him, naked. He could still torture himself a little more by making you wait longer.

"Did you touch yourself when you were gone?"

The embarrassment on your face was visible, you hid your face behind your forearms as you nodded. "Speak! Cat ate your tongue?"

"I did." He grabbed your wrists and pinned them on each side of your head. "Look at me when I talk to you, dove. Now answer me again. I'm running out of patience and I might as well leave you like this."

"N...no, please...that's right, I touched myself."

He guided one of your hands to your pussy. "Do it again. Show me how you would do it and tell me every naughty idea in that pretty head of yours."

You wanted to protest, to tell him you had enough of your fingers in the past two months, what you needed was him, but he had already threatened you to leave and your mind was too filled up with lust to think properly so you obeyed him.

Pushing one finger in, your mouth was open in an O shape. Digging in deeper and deeper. "I...would always th...think about y...you."

"Elaborate."

"I ...think about your handsome face...between my thighs and...your red lips on...my clit."

"Is that all you wish for?"

"N...no...I craved for your cock ...but the reality hit me every time that my fingers were not enough...I missed your fingers and cock in me, I missed the way your tongue flicks in me ...please..."

"Add another finger, now."

You swallowed and obeyed, adding another finger and searching for that spot, speeding up while having your eyes locked into his. He knew you found it when you inhaled sharply and moaned.

"Am I allowed to?" You whispered. "Cum all over your fingers. Make a mess." He leaned and kissed your forehead as you were getting yourself off. Then moved on to your ears and whispered "Beg for me." Then he tugged your earlope with his teeth.

"Please! Levi, I want you. Nothing is e...enough compared to you! Please I beg you!"

As you were begging, he noticed how your knees started to shiver, implying you were close. He let out a cruel, evil and short laugh as he grabbed your wrist and pulled your fingers out. You felt empty all of a sudden after being so close.

You looked so confused which he found out so cute. "B..but you said I was allowed."

"And you had promised to never leave me yet you left me for 2 fucking months! Do you think I'm that kind to let you have it all so easily now? Oh princess, it's a punishment if you haven't noticed already. Now get on all fours."

The unbuttoned shirt, though exposed your body and gave Levi as easy access, was still on. You had no intention of taking it off completely but once you did as he had said, you felt his hands were just about to tug up the shirt.

"N...no...I want the shirt on, please."

Levi was confused, it wasn't as if there was something underneath the cloth he hadn't seen already, he loved this position cause he could run his fingertips on your spine and make you shiver and moan.

So of course, curiosity and selfishness got the best of him and despite your request, he tugged it up anyway only to see several new scars on your back. They weren't deep but they implied you had been attacked during the mission. His heart sank. You looked so vulnerable and he just wanted to take good care of you, make you feel good and safe in his arms once again. Who did this? Who fucking dared to do this? When did this happen? Probably one of those nights that Levi was awake, thinking to himself how cruel you were for leaving him like that. How could he judge you and doubt you so easily? He felt like a piece of garbage.

"Is it that bad?" Your voice brought him back to the room from his thoughts. You were looking at him with half of your face pinned on the mattress. "It's not half bad. I was just thinking how to kill the bastard who did this to you."

"Hmm...so sexy when you talk about killing people while we're being intimate. Don't worry they're dead already."

He ran his finger on the old scars. Most of them were small but there was a huge one on your left shoulder blade which was continued to your waist on the right side.

As he was caressing the scar, he asked "Why you wanted to hide them?"

"They are not the prettiest accessories on me and also, didn't wanna concern you."

He frowned. How could you say that? You were soldiers, scars weren't uncommon. He had more than a few on himself which you found sexy. But you didn't see them that way for yourself.

"I actually think they're matching to mine." Levi said.

He leaned on your back, leaving wet kisses on every single one of them. You shivered and he smirked in satisfaction.

His attitude slightly changed, he just wanted to take care of you. Clearly, you'd had it rough already.

His cock was killing him, it's been hard from the start of the session yet he managed to endure it. As you were fully naked in front of him with your shirt gone, he was fully clothed. He unbuttoned his shirt in no time and unzipped his pants, pulling them down with the underwear and taking them all off. He grabbed his cock, swirling the tip around your already wet entrance. You moaned loudly "Don't tease me anymore!" He could hear the pouting in your voice. No smile appeared on his lips but his eyes softened.

His tip, already wet by precum, made its way through your hole. With no rush and slowly, he was halfway in. You were sucking him in so willingly it was as if your body was telling him how much you missed his touch.

He pushed a little further and was now fully in you, filling you up nicely. Your delightful moans sounded like angels singing to his ears. Oh how much he missed you.

"Y...you can move, Levi."

He grabbed you gently by the throat, adding no pressure. Just pulling you closer to himself until your scarred back met his chiselled chest. Once he had your head backed on his shoulder, he left no time to start kissing it so gently. Eventually, he started to move inside you back and forth.

"Ngh...I missed you, Levi."

His hands were on your nipples now, pinching and playing with them. He whispered in your ear "You have no idea how much I wanted you back by my side."

His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he paced up his movement in you. He bit back his moans just to hear yours as he was hitting that spot in you. Your mouth hung open while you were seeing the stars and moaned uncontrollably. As much as he loved hearing them, you were getting louder and louder so he pushed to fingers into your mouth. "Keep it...down...fuck."

Once again, your knees were shivering, if Levi didn't have a grip on you, you'd fall on the bed. Yet, you ran your hand through his hair at the back of yours, pulling it a little. "You fucking tease."

You were both close, Levi took his fingers out of your mouth and started massaging your clit with them. His nubs rubbed against your needy clit which had been begging for attention. He started drawing ghostly circles and little by little, his moves became faster and rougher. You were almost there.

"L...Levi! I'm...close..please..."

"Cum for me baby. I mean it this time."

In less than a second, you made a mess on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm. Wanted to fill you up so badly. His cock was twitching in you, he almost couldn't believe he was feeling your hot gummy walls around himself again, shaping your insides like his cock.

His grip on you tightened and you knew by then he was going to fill you up in no time. He let out a loud, sexy moan while he shot his seeds in you. You felt so warm inside, he didn't pull out until he fully emptied whatever he had in you and softened.

You were both panting. He slowly pulled out and you felt the cum dripping down your thigh. Your skin was still red and burning from his thrusts. He laid down naked on the bed waiting for you to lay next to him.

"Where are the papertowles? Your blanket it gonna get ruined."

He rolled his eyes at you, the clean freak couldn't care less at this moment he just wanted his lover next to him. He grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you on the pillow next to him. "I have to wash them anyway." He said.

His eyes were locked to yours once again. Tucking your hair behind your ear which was all red now. He grabbed your hand and held it tightly, brought it close to his lips and left a few kissed on it as he was watching you.

"Don't ever do that shit again."

You smiled, you didn't say anything. It hurt to see him like this, you knew how much you hurt him by leaving without telling him but you were unaware of this. You had no idea he would be this devastated. Perhaps you underestimated his love which made you feel so bad about yourself. Still, you knew you would do this again if Erwin commanded so. You knew there was no place left for emotional bonds in the army yet you fell for Levi. This is the cost of following your heart, to get hurt willingly only to follow orders.

But screw Erwin and screw humanity at this moment you just wanted to have Levi's head on your chest again.

You pulled him close, he rested his head on your chest as you wished as you nuzzled his head. He could probably get some proper sleep in this state after a very long time. He felt his eyelids getting heavy and before he knew it, he was snorting in your arms.

What a day to be alive.

#levi ackerman #levi aot #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi x y/n

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lucysarah-c · 4 months

Text

Scratches down his back

Summary: Repeat after me, nothing good happens in the common showers unless it’s Levi sandwiching you with the wet wall. Sadly, this is not the case. So, nothing good will happen. Author's Note: I'm revisiting this piece, my second-ever Levi fanfiction, after Tumblr inexplicably removed it. I've made a few alterations, so if you recall the original, you might notice some differences. I've attempted to recreate it to the best of my memory. Despite initially intending it to be full NSFW, I've reconsidered; it doesn't quite match the tone I'm aiming for. This leans more towards being a Crack fic than an NSFW one. Warning: This story contains suggestive themes but nothing explicit. Word Count: 2.8k

She lotioned up, fingers deftly twisting and knotting the towel around her body to keep it from slipping. Annoying groans echoed in the humid tiled space as she struggled to finish her routine while maintaining modesty and not taking up too much space.

"Holy Sheena," a voice called from her right, making her turn around hastily.

"What?" she responded.

Hange walked closer, seeming less concerned about covering up after coming out of the shower. "Those bruises... tell Shorty he's supposed to fuck you, not try to kill you," they joked.

She sighed intently and found the well-marked fingertips around her hips, washing away marks around her wrists and the obvious hickeys and bite marks on her inner thighs and lower collarbone to conceal them from daily life. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle.

"Forgot I had those," she commented, momentarily happy before furrowing her brow again. "I can't find anything here!"

The former HQ of the scouts lacked a pumping water system, everything (despite her boyfriend's attempts) smelled of mold and humidity. The place was freezing due to the tall ceilings and lack of proper insulation, especially in the middle of the forest where temperatures dropped the lowest. Having to shower there, under shaky candlelight, with buckets of water and a cup to pour it on her body was a nightmare.

"How could you forget?" Hange seemed less stressed about the shower situation, either because they had fewer steps in their routine or because they were less ashamed.

"I got used to it, and I usually don't share bathrooms, so no one can see me naked," she explained, searching among her personal hygiene items for the next step in her routine. "I forgot how impractical communal showers were."

"Ah, yes, because you and your hubby have all the space for yourselves," the brunette joked, making kissing sounds to annoy her further.

"You're just jealous that my love life is very active," she retorted.

"Don't point those fingers at me, save those assumptions for Erwin," Hange teased.

Their banter made her laugh and nod slightly in agreement. "Speaking of which, did he send you here to help with something?"

"Supervise a bit of the situation for him and fill out reports for the MPs and the military board," Y/N explained casually as she started to put on comfy clothes.

"So, basically... a conjugal visit so Levi doesn't get blue balls," They quipped.

Coughing loudly as the foam from the toothpaste made her choke in shock, she spat into the sink before looking up, blushing deeply. "HANGE!"

The squad leader chuckled, unfazed by the outburst. "Your marks tell me I'm right. You arrived last night, and he jumped on you like a beast in heat."

She scoffed, not saying a word as her mouth was still full of toothpaste. Frowning slightly at the squad leader and shooting them an askance look, but Hange didn't seem offended, taking the conversation lightheartedly.

As they finished their dental routines, Y/N was surprised by Hange's efficiency. They clearly had different notions of after-shower routines.

"Don't be so hard on him," Y/N defended her boyfriend tenderly as she rinsed the toothpaste residue. "He's stressed about the whole Titan boy situation. He needed to unwind."

Both walked out of the room lethargically, as if neither had anywhere urgent to be. "That's the excuse Shorty gave you? But if Eren is so meek around Levi..." Hange argued back between chuckles.

The empty corridors of the former HQ made her shiver, quickly losing the warmth of the shower as they strolled. When the name of the new cadet in Levi's squad was dropped, Y/N couldn't help but grimace and bite her bottom lip to hold back a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Hange asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Come on, just tell me!"

"Fine..." she relented, "but this stays between us."

"You know I can't promise that," Hange joked, indicating that juicy information wouldn't stay secret for long. "Just spit it out."

"I met Eren earlier today..." she began.

"Yeah, and?" Hange prompted.

Y/N's subtle, almost innocent blush didn't match her sassy chuckles. "He's hella cute."

Hange's loud gasp echoed in the empty hallways, prompting Y/N to hush them intensely. "You're a taken woman, Y/N!" the brunette argued, albeit without seriousness. "And... He's a kid. Have some decency, you creep."

"Hey!" Y/N quickly protested. "I never said I was going to sleep with him or something like that! Can't a girl admit when a boy is cute? I mean, did you see his eyes? He's going to be turning heads around here before you know it."

Hange chuckled, "If he survives..."

"What a depressing thought, Hange, for Sheena's sake," both continued walking. "Mark my words, he's going to be handsome and will have girls swooning over him."

"Including you?" Hange teased.

Y/N shook her head softly, regretting telling the squad leader about it. "I could teach him a thing or two," she joked back, earning a shallow laugh from her companion.

"Don't let Shorty hear you say that," Hange warned.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," she assured.

The heavy stone walls seemed to catch every little molecule of dust between the bricks as she swung the door open to the basement kitchen, probably designed to keep the cold temperature for food storage. Or perhaps it was an old castle, and the staff was secluded to the forgotten and unpleasant part of the architecture. Once inside, Petra and Eren were cutting potatoes while sitting on big, chipped wooden boxes.

"Hey," Y/N greeted, rubbing her arms over her clothes as the humidity and coldness of the place seemed to penetrate every piece of clothing. "The bathroom is free if you want to take a shower."

Y/N chuckled softly at her own words. "Well, 'shower' is a bold word for sitting down and throwing buckets of water on yourself," she clarified, jokingly.

Petra seemed to understand, smiled at Eren, and stood up to clean her hands before leaving. They were taking turns for showers, mostly because the former HQ lacked a water pumping system, so they had to fetch water early in the day. For showers, the water had to be warmed up by the stove and then carried to one of the rooms they had chosen as a bathroom. Neither room was ideal because of the wooden floors, but they made do.

She noticed the big, almost innocent eyes of the cadet looking up at her, both seemingly waiting for the other to make the next move. Eren continued with his task silently until she cleared her throat.

"So... have you taken a shower yet, Eren?"

"No, ma'am," Eren replied stiffly, making her scoff.

"You can call me Y/N," she said, taking a spot next to him on the box. "Here, let me help you, or we'll be having potatoes for dinner the day after tomorrow."

Her hands began to peel the potatoes with expertise. "You're good at this," he commented, looking down at his own pile and noticing a good part of the peel had taken the potato with it.

She chuckled, "Ugh, you know how many potatoes I peeled before I was promoted," she joked. "You're showering after dinner? Make sure to rinse the water out of your hair if you're going straight to bed; you might catch a cold otherwise."

Eren seemed surprised by the comment, or perhaps by the interaction overall. "Yes, ma'am," he replied with less self-assurance. "Captain Levi said the rest should go ahead, and then we'll go... I feel bad that he had to wait to take his turn because of me."

"You're showering with Levi?" she asked, entertained, cutting off a bit of the self-hate speech that the cadet was about to embark on. "You're not planning on stealing my man, are you?"

Oh, how quickly the blood rushed to his cheeks. It was priceless. "N-NO! I-I, no. I'll n-never," the poor boy began to stutter. She playfully patted his back while having a blast.

"Relax, Eren. I'm messing with you," she said between chuckles. "It's just a silly shower, sweetie. Levi goes to bed very late, so showering last doesn't affect him."

"But Oluo said–"

"Ohhh, please," she interrupted him again, rolling her eyes as she returned to her task of peeling potatoes. Momentarily pointing at him with the knife, as if to emphasize her point, she continued, "Do not listen to him. Oluo is like one of those very tiny little dogs. They bark and bark and may even bite more than a regular-sized dog, but they actually hold no power."

It was time for the cadet to have a short chuckle at her comparison. "Mr. Oluo isn't going to like that."

"Well, I'm higher in command than him so."

There was a brief calm silence as both of them continued to prepare dinner. "You're too nice to me, Squad Leader," Eren murmured, slightly ashamed. "The rest of Captain Levi's squad is nice too, but I can feel their fear..."

Y/N couldn't help but find it endearing, the little pout on his face. "Oh sweetie, I'm the one who brings the first paperwork of the day to Erwin, and sometimes I even have to wake him up. There's nothing you could do that could scare me after that," she said while reaching forward to pinch his right cheek while wrinkling her nose. "You're a cutie."

The side smile mixed with a not subtle blush that extended to his ears and the subtle shame in his eyes. Everything in his attitude screamed 'I'm not a girl or a kid, don't call me that.'

But that was exactly what he was in her eyes: a kid.

Clicking his tongue, cursing under his breath, he moved the shaking candle around, trying to find a good lighting spot against the old mirror while passing the razor close to his skin. The flame shook under the little insulation of the old rooms, and the humidity of the showers didn’t help as it rained little drops of condensation too close to it. Unlike Eren, who had finished showering and looked around ashamed, unsure how to even begin to dress up for bed without looking awkward (he could start by not standing still in the middle of the room), Levi seemed rather relaxed. Apparently, his only problem was shaving under that type of light.

The Captain looked over his shoulder, found the cadet looking as if he wished the earth could swallow him. “Come on, brat. We don’t have all night. Get dressed so I can take you to the basement,” Levi spoke up. “Don't be so tense. I cleaned the place myself.”

‘The cleanliness is not my problem,’ Eren thought to himself as he tried to carry on. But keeping the towel around his hips while trying to put clothes on that stuck to his humid body, nothing was going according to plan.

“I bet you shared showers in worse conditions at the training camps,” Levi kept his usual stoic face as he cleaned the residues of shaving cream from his face and carried on unaffected by the situation.

But Eren couldn’t unglue his eyes as soon as he noticed them. Yes, them. The red striking scratches down the back of his superior. Well-marked, five on each side decorating his shoulder blades. Eren swore he was trying not to pay them any mind, trying to remember to breathe or even to stop the saliva as his mouth hung open looking at them.

Levi mentioning the shared showers at the training camps didn't help. Because all he could hear repeating endlessly in his mind were the stupid conversations Reiner and Jean would have about the hypothetical chicks they were planning to lay with. How they throw their heads back as they moan your name. Their nails sinking in your back as you pounded into them.

‘Think of something else, Eren. Think of something else,’

“S-sorry,” he stuttered out a reply as the object he was picking up slipped from his clumsy hands, gathering his superior's attention, who was now staring at him as he kneeled to pick it up with his face as red as a tomato and nervous eyes.

Levi raised a silent eyebrow for a split second before slightly shaking his head, not giving it much thought. ‘Teenagers,’ he thought to himself while sighing.

Eren wished he could stop his own mind because it wasn’t just Reiner’s voice playing in his head but the created mental images of what he thought, in his inexperience, it looked like: his superior—no—his hero, fucking the sweet, caring woman who had just been peeling potatoes with him. Her hands that pinching his cheeks, sinking its nails into his squad leader’s back while moaning his name. Wrinkling his eyes closed, trying to erase the mental images as he could feel the blood pumping. ‘You’re not planning on stealing my man, are you?’ her voice echoing in the walls of his head, pumped lips and sultry eyes as she looked back at him playfully.

‘Think of something else!’

“What could you probably be thinking of?” Levi’s voice echoed as his worst nightmare. Had he said that out loud? This time Levi had turned around to face him, left hand resting on the sink as he had his trousers on but hanging loosely on his hips as he was halfway getting dressed. He didn’t seem friendly, and his dead glance demanded an explanation.

“Ehm- I,” Eren began to stutter, trying to find a logical explanation. His mind was racing miles per hour, how to explain. He was peeling potatoes, she made a joke, now he knows they are dating, Levi had his back scratched by her. She, her nails, her joke, her pretty lips—

“Y-Y/N,”

Ah- He shouldn’t have said that, but it was the first word that came to his mind.

“What?” Levi’s voice seemed to source from hell itself.

Heavy steps again on the floor, as he rushed back to his room. “Oi, where are you going so angry, shorty?” Hange rested against the wood frame while drinking a cup of tea. They had heavy under-eye circles and despite the dose of caffeine from their drinks, they seemed very lethargic.

“Tch, to talk to my girlfriend about not messing around with my subordinates,” Levi had a heavy frown on his face as his hair still leaked little drops of water. “I just had the most uncomfortable conversation with Eren,” Levi said between clenched teeth, barely modulating.

Hange chuckled while raising an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times. “Y/N told you she thinks Eren is a cutie? I’m surprised...”

Levi, who had never stopped facing down the hall to his room, not even when he began his conversation with the other squad leader, slowly turned around to face the brunette as he heard that with a clearly confused face that turned into a frown as the information sank in. “What?” he spat out.

Hange began to chuckle as they feared that they had misunderstood, “Ha ha... didn’t you say you had an uncomfortable conversation about Eren?”

“Clean up your filthy ears or go to sleep already, four eyes,” the captain said calmly before clarifying, “I said a fucking uncomfortable conversation WITH Eren.”

“Now, tell me what the hell you meant by that and make it quick because I already stood in a leaky bathroom for easily half an hour hearing Eren stutter apologize after he said my girlfriend’s name with a fucking hard on.”

Observing out of the window as she admired how calm the deep forest was at the former HQ. It was rather cold, but she had only her nightgown on, a sheer translucent piece of cloth. The door of the room swung open, revealing an extremely angry Levi. He shut his door close and walked up to her.

“What's gotten into you?” She questioned, confused. But before she could even reply, he was grabbing her face, pressing her cheeks together, and slightly raising her face to have it inches away from his.

“You’ve forgotten your manners. I’ve been too soft with you,” Levi groaned, “First of all, you don’t go around playing cheeky with my subordinates.”

She could feel the tug from his grip, pressing her closer as her hands touched his arm. Breathing heavily, humming a moan at his words. “Second, you truly think you could have a brat like him when I can already tell you’re dropping with the idea of me teaching you your place again?”

“Lev-”

“Your next words should be ‘Yes, sir’ if you know what's good for you,” he let go of her face just to slap her ass, “Go to bed and ass up, baby girl.”

She moved excitedly in the direction he indicated but turned around as she bit her bottom lip, watching as he grabbed a belt from his uniform, “and that?” she asked curiously.

“To make sure I’m the only one who leaves marks behind.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

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fettuccin-e · 1 year

Text

Right Here, Right Now

Kinktober Day 2: Public

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl omg please), public sex, fingering, its just desperate sex with Mig in an alleyway lol (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: I have actually had this as a WIP for a long, long time but I modified it to fit this prompt! Glad to finally get some use out of it. Miguel can and will always have me in a chokehold I love him so so much. (I am following prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

You’ve both been apart for too long, far too fucking long. Always away on missions without each other, falling asleep without each other and leaving again with only a quick kiss goodbye, nothing more.

It’s got Miguel a little stir crazy, desperate, and you’re just the same way. So, on the odd mission where you’re actually together, you don’t protest when he crowds you against a brick wall in some dark, dank alleyway, and kisses the god damn life out of you. It’s intoxicating, mind-melting, and fuck, it’s not enough for either of you.

Miguel growls against your mouth, reaching a clawed hand to the seam of your suit, and rips it, exposing the wetness of your aching pussy to the cool night air. He cups you without any finesse, just pure need, and you gasp wetly into his kiss.

“Miguel,” you whine, but you can’t stop your hips from humping forward into his hand, “we can’t— we can’t, baby, they’re going to start looking for us, oh fuck, they’re gonna see—“

“Shh,” he coos, “just real quick, real quick, sweetheart.” His chest heaves, so broad and thick and clouding your vision as he rubs quick circles into your achy clit with a calloused finger.

“Just- just let me feel you, just for a second, please, baby, mi amor, por favor, tan perfecta, te necesito,” he mumbles, lost in it, and you find yourself nodding along with his words.

He whines at your permission, and you barely manage to utter a “just for a second, just a second, Miguel,” before his suit dissipates around the bulge of this thick cock, and he’s sinking into you, pressing so fucking deep he forces the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering forward as he stretches your pussy around him. “There’s my perfect girl, my beautiful girl, fuck, fuck, missed this pussy so bad, baby.”

It’s hard to breathe like this, Miguel pressing you into the brick wall, curling around you until all you know is him. All you know is the way his scent invades your lungs, the way his fangs graze your throat just barely. The way he pulls his hips back, just a little bit, before shoving forward again, bullying his thick cock so fucking deep inside your little cunt. You can’t get out the words, the sensations all too much for you to bear. There hasn’t been any prep, anything to lead up to you taking Miguel like you usually do.

No, there's only the adrenaline coursing through your bodies, the desperation stemming from being apart for far too long, and the ache of him settling deep, deep inside you. It’s where you both belong.

So you stutter out aborted little whines of “Mig- Miguel,” and “so-so big,” between overwhelmed sobs into his strong body as he holds you, impaling you on him again and again. He’s mumbling, incessant and slurred as he fucks you into the brick, something about how hot you are, how wet and tight and about how he can’t wait to get you home, how he’s going to fuck you for days. It’s all so hard to understand, you’re not even sure that Miguel knows what he’s saying, if he even wants you to hear all of the deep, dark thoughts spilling from his overwhelmed mouth.

Your body burns, the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing at your clit so perfect, so right. It’s all slick and wet and you’re sure that you’re dripping down his fat cock as it slides in and out of you, dripping down his balls. You can at least thank God that his suit isn’t made out of actual fabric; that he won’t have to return to HQ with your wetness staining his front. Not that he’d really mind.

It’s intoxicating, the way he fills you, surrounds you. So much so that you don’t realize how much time has passed until you hear Jessica’s voice from both of your watches, cutting through your whines and Miguel’s growls and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting. “O’Hara, what’s your position?”

“Fuck,” he snarls, driving into you just a little faster, a little harder, “fuck, not yet, not yet.” He doesn’t respond to Jess, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss that mostly contains teeth and spit.

“Mig-Miguel, they’re going to be looking, c’mon, baby, we’ve got to g-” you hiccup into his mouth, but your hips move of their own accord, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drives desperately into you.

“Not. Yet.” He growls, punctuating his words with his hips. “Just a little longer, little- little longer, jus’ let me-” he fucks himself into you, so furious and devastating that tears finally manage to spill from your eyes.

“Spiderman 2099, what is your position?” Jessica asks again, and you can hear Pavitr ask you the same thing from your watch, both oblivious to the fact that their leader, your leader, is fucking you into the wall in some dirty back alley in a universe that neither of you know, that neither of you care to know. All you know is Miguel’s body against yours, exchanging desperate breaths as he thrusts deep into your sticky pussy, curling your hands into his hair as he digs his fingers into your waist, his claws nearly tearing the fabric of your suit.

“Miguel,” you moan, “we have to go, please we have to go, they’re looking for us, they’re gonna see-”

“No,” Miguel whines, and you want to fall to your knees with how absolutely devastated he sounds, “can’t- you can’t go, ‘s too soon, baby, let me have you, let me have you,” he’s slurring around his fangs, his eyes burning red at the edges as his eyes meet yours. He grabs at the watch on your wrist, cutting it off with a deft claw, and you choke on your spit as he crushes it easily in his palm.

“Miguel-” you start, but he cups a thick hand over your mouth, and you can only watch as he raises his watch to his face and says, far more collected than he’s been this entire night, “Anomaly neutralized, returning to HQ. Meet tomorrow for a debrief.”

“Not tonight?” Pav chirps, and Miguel ruts into you hard, his gaze burning into yours.

“Tomorrow.” He growls, before he shuts his watch off completely, tucking his face into the crook of your neck again, sucking dark marks into your skin. His hands find your hips once again, pulling you onto his cock over and over and over as tears slide down your cheeks, choked little moans ripping out of your throat.

“That’s right, beautiful, squeeze this cock, make a mess for me. Can’t wait to get you home, going to fuck you all fucking night, needed this sweet pussy so fucking bad, bebita, por favor, ah-” he groans into your skin, and his cock sinks into you so perfect, stretching you exactly how you’ve needed it for so long, and fuck, your orgasm nearly makes you black out. You thrash against the wall, crying out so loud that Miguel has no choice but to seal his mouth over yours in a sticky kiss, swallowing your noises.

“Fuck, that’s right, make a mess for me, eres tan perfecta, mi amor, mi vida, fuck,” he fucks into you, once, two more times, before he’s following you over that peak, his hips twitching as he fills you up.

You both can only rock against each other for a minute, riding the aftershocks of bliss. How had you gone without this for so long? How could you have deprived yourself of heaven?

“Let’s go home, Miguel,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. He nods, switching his watch back on and opening a portal behind himself. He slips out of you, his suit reforming over himself. You, unfortunately don’t have the same luxury, the night air still cool against your used and achy core.

“You’re making me a new suit, by the way,” you say, tilting your head up to smile at him. “And a new watch.”

He only chuckles, lifting you into his arms, turning to walk you both into your shared apartment in Nueva York, where you haven't been together in too damn long. “Anything you want.”

#hes just so big i need him to bang me against a wall #i love him sm i get so depraved talking about him #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv smut

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yawnderu · 1 year

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sex pollen!Miguel ohara (axhlex worker) x fem!worker!nerdreader

where reader and miguel were testing an experiment with something,reader.said she needed to use the bathroom,when she come back she saw miguel breathing become more heavy,and saw that the experiment bottle exploded and glass piece on the ground (idk how to explain any scientific at all😭😭) then she ran Up to him and ask if he ok,she was checking his face and body if anything happened,if any wound,but then miguel just look at her like an prey,which made reader feel worry,but she she the feel away,and still ask him if he feeling alright to only get pin on the ground with her arms above her head, dawn 🗯 (the nfsw part cuz I suck ass at writing that😔✊✊)

I love this!! ♡

Sex Pollen — Miguel O'Hara x Reader

CW: Feral!Miguel O'Hara, dubcon, Miguel's claws come out during sex, rough sex, creampie, breeding, mentions of blood, Miguel using your cunt to jerk himself off.

"And then Hobie said—" You stop dead on your tracks, seeing Miguel's surprised expression as he looks down. You follow his gaze, noticing the shards of the now broken vial you both found inside a villain's HQ to examine it. It was supposed to enhance physical performance and resistance— though it hadn't even been tested yet to ensure what it truly was. And oh boy, you're in for a treat.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" You immediately walk up to him, avoiding the glass shards as you check his body and face for any possible injuries. Miguel doesn't say anything, yet you're there to see his shift. His long fangs are slightly bared, venom dripping down the corners of his lips as his breathing became heavier and sharper. The same red eyes that used to look down at you with patience now look like something else— Miguel looks like a feral beast, ready to pounce on its prey, and how unfortunate for you that is. He takes a step forward and you take a step back. This repeats until your back is almost hitting the wall, your hands going up to his chest to weakly try to make some distance between both of you.

"Hueles delicioso." He mutters in Spanish, not affected by your pathetic attempts to make some distance between both of you. He leans down, getting in your face as he forcefully makes you turn around and gently pushes you against the wall, his breathing hard on the back of your neck as his strong arms wrap around you. You can feel something hard pressing on your back.

"What did you do to me?" His husky voice whispers in your ear, bending his knees as he begins to rub his clothed hardening dick up and down your ass. You're too flustered to speak— the rude and snarky Miguel O'Hara is grinding against you like it's the most normal thing ever. What the hell was in that vial...?

"Miguel, st—" He covers your mouth with his large hand, successfully shutting you up as he manhandles you into the floor, his free hand pinning your arms above your head as he finds solace between your legs, his suit disengaging just enough to have his massive dick out. You can feel it over your stomach, the sheer size of it weighting itself down slightly.

"Cállate." He barked, though his words didn't have much bite on it, tone completely overtaken by his sharp breathing and soft grunts as he kept grinding against you.

"I think... I've heard of this. Some drug that makes your heart go faster and faster until it stops, unless you..." He seemed slightly hesitant to say this, as if he wasn't lowering your pants and underwear with one hand while your legs showed some struggle out of embarrassment. "Unless you cum." He muttered, completely enamored by the sight of your cunt. His suit disengaged on his fingers, immediately playing around your cunt as he looked up at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Ayúdame, por favor." He asked for permission as if his cock wasn't already lined up to your cunt, moving the tip around it to soak into the wetness. Though you were nervous about this and utterly confused... Miguel was always hot in your eyes, and there had always been some tension between both of you. You nod your head and he responds by spitting into your cunt, soaking his dick with the saliva before he begins to slowly sink into you.

"Dios mío... you're so tight." He's holding himself up with his arms while he's on top of you, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he feels your warm pussy swallow him up. It takes all of his self-control to not ram himself balls-deep, knowing your much smaller body couldn't take it. He bit his lip softly, muffled groans coming out of his plump lips as he finally bottomed out.

He gave you a few seconds to recover before he began fucking into you faster and faster, desperate to cum once he was aware on how much his heart rate was going up. If his guess on the drug was correct, he have that much longer before his heart would stop. Your whiny moans were reassuring, though he could barely hear over the sound of his own breathing and his meaty thighs slapping against your ass. He looked down at you with a predatory look, grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your knees to your chest, hissing at the feeling of your tight cunt.

"Mierda... así." He groaned out, not realizing his claws came out and were digging into your soft thighs. He was far too into his own head to even realize, ignoring the blood trail coming down to your pussy as he simply focused on slamming his dick into you as fast and as hard as he could, using you like you were nothing but a sex-toy he was using to jerk himself off. And quite honestly, that's what you were in that moment. He doesn't want to die.

He pushes your thighs together, holding onto them with his burly arms as his hips start to stutter, demeaning non-sense mixed in with praise in Spanish coming out of his lips as he pushes all the way inside your abused cunt.

"¿Quieres ser una mami?" He asks teasingly, not even waiting for your reply as his cum thick cum spills directly into your fertile womb. He's finally able to take deep breaths and regain his regular breathing after a second, still all the way inside you, keeping the cum in with his half-hard cock.

#miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #sex pollen #smut #atsv #miguel atsv #spiderman atsv #🕷 miguel

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politemenacephd · 6 months

Text

The Surrogate (Part One)

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18)

Part two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

notes: i am working on arachnophilia, shits jst kinda rough, but i started this a while ago, enjoy x

‘You want what?!’

You almost spat out your drink in shock, unsure if you’d really heard what you’d just heard correctly. It was a miracle you didn’t accidentally spit alcohol into your companions faces.

You were sat in a booth at the bar all the spiders went to in Nueva York when off duty. It was pristine and white like almost everything else in this world, with floating tables and neon lights adorning the walls in various space themed shapes.

You’d been here a couple times before yourself, but tonight was different.

You’d been brought here by two of your friends from the Spider Society; Peter, one of the older ones, and Miguel, the head of the entire institute and Peter’s very open partner. They’d been incredibly cryptic about why they’d wanted to meet, with Peter simply insisting over and over that it was important, that they needed you to hear them out, and though you’d rolled your eyes a bit as he followed you around the HQ like a lost dog you’d eventually relented to his pleading.

You were now very aware of why they’d been so cryptic.

As you wiped away the small dribble of drink left sliding down your chin, Miguel and Peter continued to watch you in silence. Miguel was fixed with his usual sombre expression while Peter beamed at his side, hands clasped on the table in an inviting, open manner. It was the strangest contrast.

‘Just, think about it!’ Peter said. ‘That’s all we’re asking!’

‘No, no—wait, so I heard correctly?’ you stammered. Peter and Miguel shot each other a look before turning back to you in unison. After some nudging from Peter, Miguel forced a similar patient smile onto his face.

‘Yes. You, heard correctly’ he said. You gabbed at them both.

‘I—So, you, want me to be your surrogate?’ you repeated dumbly. The two men nodded.

‘W…. why?’ you asked, your voice audibly wheezing as you darted between the two. The two men just glanced at each other. They seemed almost dumbfounded that you would ask such a question, like they hadn’t anticipated your immediate acceptance.

‘Well, we… We love the girls, so much, and—we just, we want another one’ Peter said. ‘It’s all we talk about at home! Every night, how May and Gabi deserve a sibling, and—recently they started talking about it too, and—we can’t tell them no!’

‘But, I mean—sure, that’s great, but Why me? Why are you coming straight to me? Have you guys ruled out adoption, or… I mean I’m just, surprised? Or, confused? Definitely confused’ you replied slowly.

‘Ah, no, we haven’t… ruled it out, per say’ Peter said with a shrug. ‘Just—it’s, hard to work out adoption when uh—’

‘Peter isn’t from this universe’ Miguel bluntly interrupted. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. ‘And—with my genetics, and my background, it—the government would never allow it.’

‘Oh… Oh, I see. But, why me then?’ you stammered. You were on good terms with the two men, that was true enough, but you hadn’t thought you were this close. It was so out of left field as well.

‘We—ran an analysis on whose genetics would be best suited for the role’ Miguel muttered. You noticed that he looked embarrassed to be admitting this. ‘Because of what happened to me, how my DNA was spliced, it’s tricky. I’m not genetically compatible with a lot of people. You were, one of five candidates, and we believed you were the best.’

You couldn’t help but wonder who the other candidates were, but more so you were stuck on the idea of needing to be genetically compatible. You knew Miguel was unusual, but, that unusual?

‘So, you came to me first, huh?’ you asked, lightly stirring your drink.

‘Yes!’ Peter hissed. He was leaning in over his lap with his fists tucked to his chest, his eyes wide and desperate. ‘Yes! Because we trust you!’

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet insistence. ‘Hey, guys, I like you too, but—’

‘We’ll compensate you’ Peter insisted. ‘We will! Miguel will pay WHATEVER you want. The entire time we’ll pay for housing, food, medical care. You will be absolutely safe. And, along with that, we’ll give you a full payment after the babies born as thanks! We’ll—’

‘Hey, hey, woah!’ You raised your hands to try and slow the man down as he began physically crawling over the table in his excitement. Miguel grunted and silently grabbed his collar, dragging him back to his seat. Peter squirmed a little in his partner’s tight grip. ‘I’m just explaining, I—’

‘Look, that—that’s all amazing. I just—’ You were silenced as Peter reached over once more to slap down a cheque on the table. You darted your eyes at the two men before lifting it up.

‘Holy…. Shit’ you hissed.

It was a lot. A LOT of money. Not so much as to be impossible or unreasonable, but enough to make your stomach drop.

‘I—you’d, give me this?’ you stammered.

‘Yes! For your labour and time’ Peter said. ‘Fair compensation.’

You paused. This amount of money was enough to make a serious, permanent difference in your life. You’d told yourself you could cope, that you could just put up with the status quo, but this changed everything. And what, all you had to do was carry their baby for nine months?

Peter leaned closer. ‘Are you, just not comfortable with pregnancy, or—’

‘No’ you said, eyes still fixed on the cheque. ‘No, it’s—fine, just… Are we, doing this like, casually?’

‘I’m willing to pay for us to both have lawyers. You can choose yours, so you’re comfortable, just bill me ahead of time for the cost. We’ll draft up contracts to be sure no boundaries are broken, and to ensure you have a legal right to what we say we owe you, and of course with clauses to protect your personal autonomy’ Miguel explained. Man, when he talked business he was so commanding, you thought.

‘Huh. Okay. I mean… I, I guess I, would be fine with that’ you muttered back.

‘I understand this would be a large undertaking’ Miguel said, his body leaning a little closer. You watched with wide and curious eyes as his arm came down over the table. You were fixated on the bulge of his bicep, nearly the size of your head now bursting from the seam of his slim fit shirt. It made you a little dizzy, as did the thick, dark hair across his forearm. You watched his calloused fingers drumming on the table, revelling in the clack of his talons.

Peter must have seen you eyeing him because he rushed to hide his smug smile. He knew you were giving in.

‘I’m taking it seriously. You will be compensated, you will be cared for. I just need to know that you understand what you’re getting into. We… Trust you, well enough. That’s why we’re asking you. We trust that you’d have our best interests as heart, just as we’d have yours’ Miguel said slowly. You nodded.

‘Okay. Sure. So, do we do invitro, or—’

The way their faces changed caused you to stutter on your words. They glanced at each other, their faces strained, as if they dreaded what they had to say next. Miguel pumped his brow once before turning away, leaving Peter to sigh and address you alone. Clearly Miguel didn’t trust himself to deliver whatever the bargain was.

‘We… Ideally, we, would like a… natural, conception’ Peter said, his voice dipping slightly on the word ‘natural.’

You felt all the blood rush from your head, only to rise back up and fill your cheeks with a pulsating warmth. Natural? Conception?

‘So… You, would want to get me pregnant—’

‘Physically. By us’ Miguel said. You hated how you shuddered slightly at his voice, at that smooth, husky, sombre tone. It slid down your ears like silk.

‘It’s just, our preference’ Peter explained with a lopsided smile. ‘Miguel’s not a fan of, sterile environments like an invitro lab, brings back bad memories you know? And—well we don’t like the idea of anyone having access to his genes, or mine, that’s bad news. Plus, it’s less stress on you, theoretically. No doctors poking you, or injecting thing, blegh. You know. You know, of course you know.’

You nodded along slowly as he spoke. I mean, it made sense. You had felt some concern when it was first brought up but they both seemed sincere, like this was just the best option, and they seemed so excited. You decided to continue entertaining this idea.

‘Ah… Sure. So, would it just be, one, of you? Like we work out who we want, or—’

‘Well, I mean, we’re not fussed about who the biological father is’ Peter said, his lip tilting into a shy half-smile. ‘It can be either of us. But, chances of success are higher if, we… both, are, trying.’

You raised both brows as you slowly realized what he was coyly implying. ‘You—so, both of you? You’d, both be having sex with me?’

‘Yyyyeaahh’ Peter said. His dorky smile was so annoyingly sweet, you thought glumly, especially on such a handsome face. You always struggled to say no to him. ‘It’s just, like we said, ensure it happens quicker.’

‘And you’re both fine with this?’

‘Yes! We discussed it before, I made the big guy go to therapy first’ Peter said, playfully tugging on Miguel’s arm as the man stoically stared into the distance. He was putting on a stern face but he was clearly endeared by Peter’s affectionate attitude. ‘Its fine! It’s easier, with you being a friend, because you know us and you respect our relationship already.’

‘I sure do’ you said with a slight laugh.

‘See? Exactly! But yes, we talked about it, we know it’s just business. Well, I mean—not to say, it can’t be fun, I mean that’s what they say right? Making the baby is the fun part—’

‘Peter, please’ Miguel groaned between gritted teeth.

‘What? What! What did I say?’ Peter whined. You stifled your laughter as the two bickered.

‘What I’m saying is, we wouldn’t expect you to just, lie on your back like a brood mare and, uh—just, put up with it’ Peter said in a hushed voice as he returned to you. ‘We’re happy to both be involved, we’re happy to, make sure you’re enjoying yourself too, just—we’ll work out the boundaries.’

Again, you nodded slowly. It was a lot to take in, but they seemed to understand that.

‘Just… Just, gimme a minute’ you asked as you picked up your drink. Miguel nodded while Peter went into a ramble about how fine that was, words which you quickly tuned out as you disassociated into your own thoughts.

It was all happening so fast. You supposed you’d have time after this to work it out, though, They said there’d be contracts drawn up, that would take time. Just… did you want to do this?

Having the baby sounded scary, but as they said it’d be around the clock care. With the head of the spider society and all his equipment on hand it’d be hard to imagine something going wrong. You did also trust the two of them, they were your friends and had proven themselves to be good men. Well, most of the time.

And it wasn’t that you were opposed to sleeping with either of them. They were unbelievably attractive, each in their own unique way. Miguel was gorgeous, a top heavy giant with beautiful eyes and such a deep and expressive face, and Peter had that sweet DILF charm about him. They both did, really.

So what was the hang up? Really, WAS there a hang up? It felt like there should be one, but, the more you thought about it, the more you realized you couldn’t find one.

9 months of work was rough, real rough, but you’d be cared for to the max. You’d be paid an extraordinary amount, enough to change your life. You’d be done and over, a clean cut single job once it was done, and supposedly you’d have your own lawyer to ensure you were protected.

Should everything go to plan… It sounded, almost perfect.

You just had to suck up the courage to lie down and let these two men put a baby in you. The moment you contemplated the thought, your face started to heat up, and you rushed to take a drink to cool it down.

“Okay. Ah, can I… Speak?” You asked, awkwardly calling back their attention. The two men turned to you in unison.

“Okay…” you said slowly, before taking another, conclusive breath. “Okay. I’m in. If—”

‘OH! YES, THANK YOU!”

Your response was cut short as Peter flung himself over the table and wrapped you into a bear hug, an embrace so tight that you could barely breath. Miguel simply offered a sympathetic, if slightly exasperated smile over Peter’s back, before helping to claw the man back once more. “Thank you, thank you- oh this means so much to us!” Peter stammered, ignoring your attempts to quiet him. You could feel other people staring across the bar now and it was becoming quite distracting.

“Yeah, yeah, just- Okay, I happy to start the process. I do want that lawyer, uh- not that I don’t trust you guys, but, like you said it’s a big deal’ you said. Miguel grunted approvingly.

‘I wouldn’t have wanted you for the job if you hadn’t accepted that’ he replied, idly glancing at his nails. ‘I’d only accept someone who was, well… Smart enough to set boundaries, even if we are friends.’

‘Right, right. Good. That’s- good’ you said. At this point your mind was racing. You’d accepted the offer, but, what now? It’d probably be a while before any action happened but the sudden, daunting realization that action *would* happen hit you like a truck. You glanced over to where Miguel and Peter were now deep in conversation.

God, they were both huge. Huge. Miguel especially was enormous, nearly 6ft 9 with that thick neck and toned upper torso, the glint of his chiselled collar bone gleaming beneath the neon bar lights. Peter wasn’t as muscular but he was still tall, nearly as tall as Miguel, and he had that quiet, unsuspecting dad-bod strength about him.

You felt your shoulders hunch a little. You had no idea what to expect going forward here, all you knew is that—

‘Hey, sorry, are you gonna finish this those?’

You jumped back to reality to find Peter pointing across you at the table. Your eyes slowly followed his finger, which you realized was pointing at a half-finished bowl of fries you’d got when you arrived after missing dinner. Your eyes shot back up.

‘Uh… I mean, probably not, no’ you said. Peter didn’t say anything more; he just made that sweet, pleading puppy dog face and tilted his head a little. You and Miguel both sighed in unison, but you willingly slid them over to him.

“Oh thank you—” Peter said before his words were turned to garbled mess as he finished the bowl. You turned awkwardly back to Miguel instead. “I’ll send the paperwork over tomorrow” Miguel said, pre-empting your immediate thoughts. “We’re in no rush, so, we’ll work out the details at your pace.” ‘Aha, ah- sure. Thanks. I mean I’m, assuming it’ll be a long process anyway, right?” you replied.

Miguel tilted his head a little. ‘You mean, the pregnancy? Yes, though, I’ve heard it goes quicker than you think. We’ll do all we can to—’

‘OH, no! Not like, the pregnancy specifically” you elaborated, hands now raised. That drew Peter to look up from devouring everyone else’s meal, his eyes curiously fixed on you. Miguel’s stony red gaze remained locked in much the same way.

‘I mean the uh… The, baby making process’ you explained, giving a shrug to try and ease the awkwardness of saying such a thing. Miguel didn’t flinch though; he continued to stare, his head slightly tilted. ‘Like, making a baby can take… months, up to a year even. We’ll have to work around that timeframe I assume’ you said, finishing your point in a rather stilted manner.

Peter turned to look at Miguel. The neon lights were blaring at his back, shadowing his face until his features popped. So sharp, so thick-set, so chiselled. To your surprise, he suddenly smiled in a way you’d never seen before. He gave you a smug, wolfish grin, flashing just an inch of fang.

‘Oh, no. Don’t you worry about that’ he murmured, his voice unnervingly confident. You blinked and watched with a burning core as Miguel leaned forward to finish.

‘It won’t take long at all.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman atsv #atsv peter b parker #miguel x peter #miguel x y/n

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