#miguel o’hara oneshot

[moon-rivr]

hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.

One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment

this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life

sweetest bite

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)

author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸

word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)

You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.

"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.

The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.

No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.

The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.

He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.

What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.

"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.

He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.

He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.

"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.

"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.

You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.

"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.

The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.

But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.

"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.

"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.

Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.

Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.

Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.

The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.

He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.

"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.

"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.

All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.

You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.

"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.

You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.

"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.

Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.

You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.

You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.

"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.

As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.

You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.

"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.

"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.

"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.

"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."

You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.

His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.

"Close your legs a little more for me mami."

"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.

You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.

He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal.  "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"

He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.

"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.

You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.

Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.

You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.

You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.

Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.

“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."

Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.

"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.

Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.

Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.

He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.

Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.

His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.

The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.

One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.

Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."

His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.

Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.

Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."

You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.

The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

[fangswbenefits]

A Series of Firsts

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

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

No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.

First Kick

“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.

“Beige?”

“Boring.”

“Red?”

“Too much.”

“Red and blue?”

“That’s too… spidey.”

You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”

“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.

“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.

“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.

Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.

As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.

Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.

He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.

It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.

He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”

You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”

First Time Meeting

Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.

“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.

Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.

She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.

“Remind again me why we let him choose.”

“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”

“Right.”

Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.

You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.

“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”

He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”

Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.

That was definitely a sight to behold.

First Sleepless Night

“We’re not having another baby.”

“Agreed.”

“Ever.”

Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”

The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.

Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.

As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”

You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”

Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.

You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.

“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”

“Maybe one more?”

You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.

“… or not.”

First Scare

You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.

“This is a bit too much, no?”

Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.

“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.

It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.

“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.

“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”

Ever the scientist.

His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.

“What?”

“She’s gone!”

Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.

“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.

Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.

“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.

“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.

But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”

Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.

“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”

The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”

First Word

“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”

“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.

Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.

“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”

He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”

In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.

You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.

Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.

Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”

It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.

First Steps

You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.

So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.

He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.

You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.

Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”

You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.

Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.

Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.

Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.

Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”

Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.

She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.

But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.

This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter

Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.

Masterlist

[rhiannswork]

Omg Miguel ohara x drunk reader would be amazing thxxx

m. o’hara || “bar.” read 21:56

a/n: i was writing this @ an airport so i didn’t wanna spend time trying to think about any astronomical prodigious voluminous colossal words or trying to make this oneshot poetic or anything. enjoy! p.s. i’ve never gotten drunk before i’ve only gotten high so 💀

warnings: drunk, mentions of vomit, mentions of being kidnapped, that’s it i think

BUZZ BUZZ you felt your phone vibrate in your bra. your vision was slightly disoriented so it took you a couple of tries to even get in your phone. you saw the message notification from miguel, asking for a pin of your current location.

you believed that providing him with your location directly would be simpler than sending a pin to help him find you.

you adeptly typed, stringing together words that even shakespeare might envy, utilizing every term in the dictionary. your hands, experiencing cramps in the process. ‘bar.’

on miguel's side, he was nearly pacing back and forth, expecting a ransom letter from your kidnapper or some substantial information, and all he received was that brief message.

‘which one, cariño?’

you sighed as he couldn’t understand where you were. it was pretty plain and simple. you gave in and sent a pin. after that, you really don’t remember what was going on.

you came back to reality, found yourself laid in the back of miguel’s car. hozier quietly flowing out of the speakers. “this car is so nice, miggy…” you spoke with your face almost mushed in the seat.

"yeah?" miguel’s soft chuckle resonated, his deep voice nearly rendering him incomprehensible. "yeah," you responded, sharing a giggle with him.

“try not to be sick in here then, okay? we just have a few minutes left ‘til we get home.” you hummed as a reply, drifting away from reality once more.

you heard the car door open, your glossy eyes looking up at miguel’s tall figure. miguel swooped you up from the back. it was too fast for you. “don’t feel so good miggy.”

in a state of panic, miguel felt unsure of what to do next. should he quickly run to the bathroom? no, that’s what had triggered this situation. his gaze shifted to the trash bins in your garage, contemplating an alternative solution.

he walked over to them and popped the lid up, thankfully, trash day was that morning so there was no trash in the bin. he would still have to clean it out though.

your body never reacted well to alcohol, it always resulted to vomiting somewhere other than the restroom. this time, the victim was the roll bin.

"there you go, good girl," miguel comfortingly rubbed your back as you still felt a bit lightheaded and dehydrated. "i’m thirsty, miggy," you murmured, leaning your head back against his chest.

"alright, let's get you some water, baby," miguel said gently as he lifted you up, holding you in a swaddled manner. you rested your head on his chest and patiently waited as he carried you into the kitchen.

"put me on the countertop, it's cold," you instructed, pointing to the island counter. his laughter resonated through his chest as he carefully set you down on the cool surface. the cold marble sent a shiver through your backside.

miguel walked to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water and a container filled with grapes. "here," he offered, handing you the water and keeping a watchful eye as you took sips.

you paused your drinking and set the water beside you. "nah uh, i want you to finish all of that before you eat these grapes," miguel insisted, his tone firm. he proceeded to wash the grapes and place them in a bowl.

with a groan, you chugged the remaining water in the bottle. "now the grapes, please...?" you requested, opening your mouth and patiently awaiting for miguel to feed you.

"of course, princess y/n," he replied with a smile, placing a grape in your mouth. you chewed with a content smile on your face.

[luvrrszn]

august

MIGUEL O'HARA x FEM READER

summary (a songfic based on "august" by taylor swift) you knew miguel wasn't ready for commitment. but you would take anything you could get. even if things didn't end well.

warnings mainly angst, a sprinkle of fluff, unrequited love (somewhat), mentions of sex (non-descriptive), non-descriptive reader, untranslated spanish (mostly pet names)

a/n my first fic ! i'm so nervous, but i hope whoever's reading this will enjoy it :) wasn't sure if the mention of sex required this fic to be marked 18+ as it's not descriptive, so i just left a warning. if there are any issues with my poor use of spanish, please let me know. and if you enjoyed it, please interact <3

masterlist

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

Miguel O'Hara was a complicated man. You knew that from the very moment you met him. He made sure you knew that. Right before he kissed you for the first time, he said, "I am not a good man, cariño. You know that right?" You shut him up by planting your lips onto his.

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine

"Mi corazón, are you free for lunch?" Your sweet Miguel would text you everyday, and without fail the two of you would enjoy lunch together. To that you replied, "For you, I am always free." Not long after, he would arrive at the doorstep of your workplace, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. You would wrap your arms around his neck and he'll pull you by your waist into a tight embrace.

"The flowers are beautiful, Miggy."

"Only the prettiest flowers for the prettiest woman." Miguel would reply, wrapping a hand around your waist as the two of you headed off to find a place for lunch.

You saw him every day, and day after day he would bring you flowers without fail. Miguel O'Hara would make sure you knew just how special you were. After a while, you thought that there might even be a spark of love. After all, his actions only proved your theory true.

But Miguel O'Hara's "love" was unstable.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Days where the two of you were tangled in bedsheets, cuddling after sex were long gone. You eventually settled for a kiss on the forehead after Miguel cleaned you up, before Miguel slipped out of your bedroom window.

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it

After a particularly tiring mission, Miguel had come to seek relief. After a bliss-filled night, he rolled onto his back beside you and soon fell asleep. You couldn't help but smile as you glanced at his peaceful face. The world seemed to stand still when you were with him.

When you woke the next morning, Miguel's face was buried into his pillow, with him still sound asleep. The sun filtered in through the window, illuminating Miguel's broad shoulders and back. Scratches littered his back, evidence from the night before. How you wished you could write your name on his back, just so everyone knew who he came to during the night.

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Every time you closed the door or window after Miguel, you'd call out, "Text me, okay?"

"Will do, muñeca." That was his standard reply. But he never did.

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

Then, Miguel asked you out for lunch less and less. Coupled with the reduced frequency of Miguel's late-night visits, all you were left with was memories. Most nights you spent settled on your couch with a glass of wine, thinking of what life was like when Miguel was just hopelessly infatuated with you.

What good times those were. Now all you had was the memory of.

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough

You don't know when exactly you started grasping at threads. Grasping for slivers of Miguel's affection. You convinced yourself it was enough. His affection was enough.

To live for the hope of it all Cancel plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall"

You knew you were hopelessly falling for Miguel when you cancelled your Friday night plans for the mere chance of him dropping by. You waited and waited, your phone on the coffee table as you looked at it. That night, he never called.

So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

Fighting with Miguel was the one thing you hated the most.

"I feel used, Miguel! You're never around, you only come for sex. I'm a person too, you know!" Your eyes stung from trying to hold back tears.

"We are not, and we were never in a relationship. We never will be either. I've made that clear multiple times." He said calmly. Somehow it hurts more than it would have if he yelled.

He delivered the final blow. "There is no "us", and there never will be."

You then faced the harsh reality. Miguel O'Hara was never yours, and never yours to lose.

But I can see us lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine 'Cause you were never mine, never mine

You recalled the times with Miguel, but this time without the hope of something more. This time, a bittersweet feeling filled your heart. You told yourself you would cut him off.

But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall"

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all (for the hope of it all)

For the hope of it all For the hope of it all (For the hope of it all) (For the hope of it all)

Yes, you told yourself you would cut him off. But your resolve always crumbled whenever you saw him standing outside your door. You caved, and let him into your apartment.

It fell back into a routine, with you just living for the hope of it all.

[princessmonochxkeme]

♱˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖙 ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚♱

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Miguel O'hara x fem! reader

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: On a story New York night, you bond with a handsome stranger in a library (over comics of course). Moments later, you're attacked on your way home, saved by none other than Spiderman. He'd been watching you since you left, and plans on doing so all night long.....

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 5.3k words

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: S-M-U-T !!! NSFW !!! BARK BARK WOOF WOOF !!! lol but fr-- voyerism, choking, age gap, oral (fem receiving), pussy play, nipple play, overstim, fangs/bloodsucking, pussy stretching, breeding (kinda)... I think that's everything. just, DO NOT interact if you're a minor lol.

𝕰𝖙𝖈.: Whelp, I'm despicable lol...and so are you if you read this and enjoy it ;))) Of note, Miggy is 30-35 in this story (that's how I view his Spiderverse character), and you're a first year law student (23-26 y/o).

**THIS IS A ONESHOT BUT I'M CONTINUEING THE SERIES ON A03 **

Lastly,-- there's one violent-ish scene but its pretty short. Happy reading <<;<3333

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Universe 1999J: 9:02 PM, Queens, Nueva York

The storm boomed in the background, thunder echoing through the halls of the library. You were in your early 20s, in the most exciting city in the world…spending your Friday night in a library. You’d been there studying for hours. A month into law school and you already had 2 exams on Monday (and you were less than prepared).. Isn’t this the life… you thought to yourself dryly. The most recent bout of lightning caused a power to surge, which you took as a sign to leave soon. You packed up your notes, and decided to check out the comics before you leave. You’d recently gotten into Marvel comics-- you loved the linework of the art, the vibrant colors, and the simple yet exciting stories. Maybe in a different life you’d be illustrating your own books, or better yet, protecting a city in a sexy spandex suit... Sigh.

It’d been a while since you read a Spiderman story-- there were too many to catch up on so you gave up. P….Q….R…. you say to yourself, scanning the isles. You finally reach the shelf you’re looking for, but some man is blocking it. You immediately notice how large he is-- more than a foot taller than you with broad strapping shoulders. It was ironic, but he looked like he could’ve been a comic hero. Nevertheless, he was focused on whatever he was reading and didn’t notice your presence. “Hi, excuse me…” you say quietly “Do you mind if I look at the Spider-Man comics for a sec?” He looked at you, subtly embarrassed.. Getting a good look at his face you noticed he was gorgeous: Caramel brown skin, dark wavy hair, and perfectly chiseled features….not, not bad at all…. “I’m sorry, go right ahead.” He kindly apologized. “Thanks...have any good recommendations?” You replied, hoping to prolong your convo with this DILF-y stranger. “Actually, the one I’m reading is pretty good! I’ve read it about 100 times but it never gets old.” He smiled and handed you the book. “Spiderman 2099….” you read the title out loud. “Cool, I think I played a PS4 game with him once.” He rolled his eyes at your response, flashing his white teeth with a playful smile. “That’s how everyone knows him. OGs learned about him the real way.” he said, tapping the book. “Ohhh brother, whatever you say old man…” you smile back deviously. He looked 35 at most, but still noticeably older than your 24. “Please, I’m not that old” He chuckled back at you. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but was he flirting right now? “SHHH!” The librarian looked in your direction, glaring at the both of you. “Sorry!” you mouthed back at her. “Anyways..” he whispered “I hope you enjoy the comic, you have good taste.” You thanked him and walked away, preparing to check out the book.

You ended up leaving the library a bit later than you intended. It was almost 9:30 and you still had a 30 minute subway ride home. There were other, closer libraries to campus, but this one had beautiful marble architecture and was open later-- shame it was in a crappy part of town. Born and raised in Nueva York, you knew how to handle yourself at night: music on, head down, “fuck off” is the default response. You begin the familiar route to the station, scrolling through a thai menu for the place near your apartment. “Larb gai…basil stir fry…mang-” within seconds someone pulled you into an alley, slamming you against the wall. You’d dropped your umbrella, and rain started soaking you. “Don’t try to fucking scream cuz no one will hear you. If you try any funny shit, I’ll blow your pretty head off.” the man whispered in your ear. You felt the cool metallic barrel press into your temple, and with a click you knew the gun was ready to fire. “What do you want….” You manage to say. “Drop the bag” he commanded. You comply, removing your backpack and dropping it to the ground. “There’s nothing in there I’m broke” You tried to plea. “SHUT UP.” He retorted, keeping a gun aimed at you while scouring through your things. After stripping your wallet of any cards and cash he turns his sights back to you, scanning your body for valuables. “Drop the phone, and take your fucking sneakers off” “...What?” “FUCKING DO IT OR I SWEAR--” he screamed. What happened next was a blur.

Out of nowhere, a masked man slammed the robber's skull into the ground, twisting his arm back in an unnatural angle. The sudden struggle caused the gun to go off, making you scream for cover. Although it was dark, you could see the man was wearing a black and red suit with a webbed pattern. ‘W-Who are you?” You tried to ask. The masked figure looked at you before returning his attention to the scum below him. The robber tried in vain to wiggle free, only making things worse. With his back turned to you, the masked figure hunched over the robber, biting him in the neck. He choked on his own blood, twitching in the mangled position. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck… You think to yourself as the ordeal unfolds. For good measure, the masked man shoots webbed material over the robber, ensuring he can't move. Paralyzed in shock, you stare at the person who’d just saved you. He grabbed your stolen items, and reached a hand out to return them to you…but you were frozen. The suit, the webs, the insignia on his chest….you must’ve been losing your mind. “Are you….” you started“....Spiderman?” He finished awkwardly. “Well I was going to say real…but yeah that works, too.” You replied, finally grabbing your things. “I…um….thank you...” You said sheepishly. “Thank me later, we need to leave” he said firmly. “Wait what--” You start as the sirens in the background louder. “Hold onto me unless you want to go to explain this to the cops.” Reluctantly, you grab onto him before he shoots a web into the air. Within seconds he lifts the both of you up to the top of a random building, away from the police. “Sorry to be so hasty back there, are you ok?” He looks at you concerned. Your mind still hasn’t fully processed what’s just happened.

“...Uhhh….yeah...sure….”. You start. “Just to make sure I have everything right, someone just tried to rob me at gunpoint, Spiderman is real…and is you…and you just saved me….and now I’m on top of a 12 story building in the rain?” “...sounds about right.” he confirmed. “Well, at least I’m not concussed…” you say dryly, eliciting a chuckle from him. “I have so many questions but, I don’t have the mental energy to ask right now….” “Understood.” he replied, relieved he wouldn’t have to explain himself. “Ok I do have one question….can you take me to the Subway station? I just want to go home…” “Of course, but honestly if you’re up for it, I could probably get you home faster myself.” he replied. “By…swinging through the city in a storm?” you replied skeptically. “Well….yeah. You're pretty easy to carry.” he chuckled. “Plus you don’t really notice the rain when you’re swinging.” “Hmm…I don’t know….you seem a little old to be Spiderman…what if you drop me?” You cross your arms squinting at him. He was admittedly huge and towered over you, but he sounded too old to be Peter Parker….and in a strange way, his voice sounded familiar. You couldn’t pin it to anyone in particular, but you’ve definitely heard it somewhere. “Old? Please, I’m not that old…” He muttered. With that phrase, you recognized him as the man from the library. Your eyes widened as you realized this, but you fixed your face before he could notice. “Also, trust me, or don’t. But at the very least you’ll need my help getting back to the ground.” He continued. Shit, he was right. The more you mulled it over, this was a rare opportunity! How many people could say they’d swung through the city with Spider-Man? Besides, an uber home was laughably expensive, and you really didn’t want to wait on the subway with more potential creeps. “What the hell…let’s do it. But I swear to god if you drop me….” You hooked your arms around his neck, while one of his strong arms tightly wrapped around your waist. “Whatever you do, don’t let go…” And just like that you were off...

In the beginning you clenched your eyes shut, screaming in fear. But after a couple minutes, you got used to the sensation. He was right, you were going so fast you couldn’t feel the rain. You opened your eyes, regretfully noticing how high up you were, and silently buried your face in his neck. “It’s ok….I got you….” reassured you. He held you a little tighter so you’d feel secure. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but you couldn’t help but think how…romantic this all was? A tall, handsome, mysterious hero, whisking you through the New York skyline, chest to chest…You dreamily smiled the rest of the ride home, and as promised, he had you there in minutes. He gently lowered down onto your fire-escape, which was conveniently placed outside your bedroom window. “There you are…safe and sound.” he said kindly. “Thank you so much! I don’t have the words to express how much you’ve helped me tonight…” “Don’t worry about it kid, just try not to walk alone so late at night. You never know who’s watching…” He replied. He was happy he was there to protect you this time, but didn’t want you putting yourself in harm's way again. A cute girl like you could easily attract trouble. “Yeah…” You say biting your lip. “I’m lucky you were at the library tonight, Spidey.” “I- What do you- What library….” He stumbled. You couldn’t see it, but his face turned bright red under his mask. “It was pretty obvious.” you laughed sweetly. “Your suit looks just like the one in the comic you ‘recommended’, but your voice really sealed the deal. Tell me I’m wrong.” You smirked at him. Sighing in defeat, he removed his mask, revealing the handsome face you saw earlier. “Alright, alright, you caught me nena.” He confessed. “Nena?” you questioned. “Yes, nena.” He teased. “...and you can call me Miguel.” He said warmly, looking down at your lips. You notice this and move your gaze to his, gradually leaning in to kiss each other. You rested your palms on his defined chest while he caressed your cheek with his hand. The kiss was velvety and sweet, the perfect ending to this disastrous night. “Goodnight, Miguel.” you smiled up at him. You open your window to enter the apartment, and by the time you turn around he’s already gone. You plop your bag on the floor and begin to shed your wet clothes. Fortunately the books weren’t water damaged since you wrapped them in a plastic shopping bag-- a habit you formed after a different stormy New York night. Exhausted, you take a hot shower to decompress. You think about a lot of things, but mostly him--, how he got his powers, where he came from, and if you’d ever see him again… little do you know he never left.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Universe 1999J: 11:06 PM, Brooklyn, Nueva York

Freshly moisturized, you exit the bathroom with a cloud of steam. You rummage around your laundry looking for something to sleep in. Normally you like to keep the place tidy, but you were not in the mood to fold right now. You settle on a white t-shirt with red trim, and one of your many lacy black thongs, drowsily flopping on your bed. You tried to fall asleep, listening to the panging raindrops and rolling thunder….but you can’t. The storm drones on as you replay the night’s events in your head. The alley, the robber, the gun, Spiderman.....Spiderman. You really met a living comic book character today. He was so much bigger than you expected-- what was he, 6’8? 6’9? In the comics he seemed scrawnier, in a cute, boy next door way. THIS Spiderman was a pure beefcake. Although he was friendly, you were surprised to see such a statuesque man in a public library. A man with that jawline should be running for office, starring in movies…but he wasn’t. To think he held you in his arms just an hour ago, whisking you through the city…kissing you on your fire escape…Your body ran warm thinking about how handsome he looked: his sprawling back, powerful biceps, juicy quads, all covered in black webbed fibers…You slowly graze your hand over your panties, while your other hand squeezes your breasts. You move your panties to the side, and let out a soft, breathy moan as you begin to explore the sticky wetness between your legs. The dramatic flickering background fades as you play with yourself. “Ahh-…” you rasp through your aching lips… But between gasps, you swear you see spider man's silhouette standing at your fire escape. Startled, you hastily move to your window…ultimately disappointed when no one’s there. Any sane person would shut their curtains, down a xanax, and try to forget the traumas of tonight. But right now, you were anything but sane. You became irrationally horny at the thought of Miguel watching you fuck yourself. Your mind flooded with thoughts of him, strong enough to rip through steel and asphalt, lusting for your body behind a sheet of glass. Lulled by your unrelenting imagination, you stick a second finger in your gushing hole. Lust coursed through you like a siren luring your prey. You closed your eyes and moaned as you rolled your nipples in little circles. The little buds start to harden, peaking through your t-shirt. Once more, you creep one of your hands slowly down your taught stomach before stroking your panties…a growing wet circle already formed on the cloth--all for him. With hooded eyes, you pump your fingers in and out of your soaking pussy… “Fuck…Miguel…” you moan in a trance. Crazy as it sounded, you desperately wanted him to watch come undone...

….and he was. “Fuck…” he unintentionally echoed, watching you in the pouring shadows. He originally told himself he’d watch you fall asleep from afar, JUST to make sure you’re safe-- then he’d leave. But if he was being honest, he knew you were safe when he dropped you off (albeit stupid for fingering yourself with uncovered windows). For starters, you lived on the top-floor in an off campus studio apartment, plus he’d watched you check to make sure the front door was locked. At this point, we was aware his intentions were self-serving. He thought you were cute when you bumped into him at the library, but after the fire-escape kiss he wanted more of you. He wanted to ask you out on a proper date, get to know you better, old-fashioned courting ...but he wasn’t sure how--there were just so many variables to consider. He wasn’t from your dimension, and once his mission ended there wouldn’t be a justifiable reason to stay. It was already bad enough that a civilian found out his identity, and the more time he spent with you the more your life was endangered. Everything about his infatuation was problematic. But then he thought to himself…were things really that bad? There’s no spiderman in this universe, he’s just a myth here. You were a smart girl, he could probably explain things to you…right? “My name is Miguel O’Hara, I’m the leader of an interdimensional Spiderman force that’s keeping the fabric of the universe together…don’t tell anyone.” Pondering different hypothetical confessions, he knew this pursuit was stupid at best. Coming to his senses, he prepared to return to HQ, that is….until you started your performance.

The sight of you pleasing your supple body awoke something primal in him-- his eyes glared crimson and fangs unwittingly sprouted. As if this vision couldn’t become more delicious, he was able to hear you moan his name with his superhuman senses. The longer he stared, the larger the aching tent in his suit grew. He wanted to taste every inch of your body-- feel your perky nipples on his rough tongue. He wished his thick fingers were sliding in and out of you….better yet, he wanted to watch you unravel he stretched your pretty, wet pussy, filling you inch by inch. Reaching his limit, he immediately rushed to your fire escape. But of course, lighting had to strike in that instance, nearly revealing his stalking gaze. He was able to climb to the roof of your building, hiding just in time for you to come to the window…but it was a close call. Way to close. During the next eruption of thunder he returned to his original vantage point, far enough to remain undetected, but close enough to keep an eye on you. He was sure he frightened you given the events that transpired earlier that night…but he was wrong? Not only were you fingering yourself again, you were aimlessly looking his way. He knew you couldn’t see him through the turbulent darkness, but was stunned at the implication: you knew he was watching-- and you wanted him to. You were putting on a private show just for him, one that he refused to miss….

…You continued staring into the distance, fingering yourself for your deviant admirer-- at this point you were just as perverted as him. You bit your pouty lower lip, turned on by the gushy noises your body made for him…if only he could hear. “Come back…” you whimpered, looking into the stormy nothingness outside. As the thunder continued to rage, the lightning revealed another towering silhouette on your fire escape. You were so horny by now you thought you hallucinated him. You’d never been this down bad before, and you were still running off adrenaline. Ignoring what you saw, you moaned louder, slipping another finger into your spongey warmth. You could barely keep your eyes open as pleasure radiated throughout you…until lighting stroke again, and the body--his body was still there. Chest heaving, you sit up, crawling across your bed to open the window. The lights were off, but you could make out more details of him with every move you made--the red of his suit, contours of his muscular frame, and lastly, a bold spider in the middle of a webbed suit. For a second, you stare up at his towering frame, admiring his imposing presence. Now that you were closer, you noticed his warm brown eyes were now a piercing red shade, undressing you through the glass of your window-- He was frighteningly handsome. With a click, you unlatch the window and open it as wide as you can. You expect his entrance to be awkward given his size, but he moves with an unexpected quickness that makes you fall back on your elbows. “Long time no see..” you mutter “Likewise…” he returns with a smirk.

You watch him as he grabs your towel off the desk chair, drying his face and hair. To your surprise, you hear muffled laughter coming from his direction. “What’s so funny?” You asked.. You were at the edge of your bed, on your knees with crossed arms. He threw the towel down, smirking as he approached you. “You are.” he replied smuggly. He placed an index finger under your chin, and tenderly traced your lips with his thumb. Forcing you to look up at his crimson gaze, he wrapped his other arm around your waist, drawing you closer to him. You clumsily put your hands on his pecs for stability (but also to feel for yourself). “Tsk tsk tsk…. I save you from imminent danger tonight, and not even 2 hours later you’re letting a stranger into your apartment. Que tonta….” he teased. “Oops….” you say with an insincere smile.

He moved the hand caressing your chin to the nape of your neck, gripping a handful of your hair. With gentle swiftness, he forces your head back, exposing the length of your neck. You inhaled sharply as he grazed the delicate skin with his lips…then his fangs.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he mumbles into you, smiling. You had no clue, but desperately wanted to find out. His words coursed through you like electricity.

“...Want a bite?” You half joked. A part of you didn’t believe he would, but in the back of your mind you were terrified….it was exhilarating.

“Don’t test me nena…” With that he swirled his tongue, leaving velvety kisses along your jugular. You let out a repressed moan, melting into his dark embrace-- and then you felt them. A stream of blood trickled down your clavicle as his fangs plunged into you. Your tense body was too shocked to release a scream, and your pupils dilated at the sensation. Despite your haziness, you noticed he wasn’t actually drinking you….no, this felt much different. A stinging warmth radiated through your throat, then the rest of your body like a shot of whiskey. It burned through you in the best way possible, and disoriented you all the same…”what is this?”, you thought, “....what is HE?” Your senses ebbed and flowed--the pounding New York rain melding into his intense grip. Mere seconds felt like an eternity as he poured his hell into you, but you weren’t scared. If anything…you liked it? There was no time to ponder your questionable decision making-- when he was done, you were an intoxicated, tingling mess.

You finally look at him again, the lower half of his face red with your blood. Subconsciously, you bite your lower lip turned on by his brutish appearance. Snaking your arms around his neck, you passionately kiss him, a drunken smile forming against his lips . He follows your lead without an ounce of hesitancy. Your kisses evolved from urgent, to desperate, then feverish, his tongue battling yours for dominance. You got a taste of your neck blood during the exchange, savoring the metallic flavor. Hungrily, you bit his lower lip, getting a delicious grunt out of him before pulling away. You stared at each other with restless eyes and parted lips .

“Why did you stop?” he asked with frustrated curiosity.

“Because…” you start as you reposition yourself. You lean back on your elbows, arching your chest chest up, and opening your legs to him“… I want you to taste the rest of me.” you drag your hands up the sides of your torso before grazing fingertips over your nipples. He let your words linger for a second…meeting your coy gaze with a grin.

“Careful what you ask for, Nena….I’ll ruin you” he says with his last iota of restraint.

“So then ruin me, Spidey…” you taunt him. Right now, your body needed him in ways your mind couldn’t explain. Your eyes widen as claws grow out the tips of his hand, as if he’d read your mind. Before you can process his mutation, he tears your shirt clean in half-- your pretty tits bouncing out to greet him. “Oh-” you blush trying in vain to cover them, but Miguel won’t have it.

“Move your hands…” he commanded darkly, pinning your hands at either side of your head. Fully vulnerable to him, he immediately starts devouring you. He swirls his tongue over your nipples, licking, sucking, and them like his last meal. His lips feel heavenly as they savor your tender chest….Growling into you, he takes is time kissing a line down your stomach…..lower…and lower…stopping right at your soaking panties. With finesse, the lacy thong met the same fate as your shirt. “Much better” he said matter-of-factly.

You were now fully exposed to him, so vulnerable to his touch and every whim-- exactly what he wanted. He hooked his arms under your thighs, hungrily pulling you towards his devilish mouth. He relished at the sight of your luscious body, trapped in an explicit pose. Legs on his shoulders, he started slow…his tongue licking a line down your wet entrance. He groaned knowing your juices were meant for him, licking your opening over and over. After this initial tasting, he became even more depraved-- You were so sweet, and so deliciously reactive. He unhooked one of his arms so he could spread your pretty pink hole open…it was so beautiful. You both let out a loud moan as his tongue plunged into your sweetness. He was in a trance, bobbing his head viscously between your thighs, causing your shaky hand to grip his hair. Your touch was a catalyst, further igniting his animalistic need for you. More, more, more…..nothing would ever be enough. He started to rise, pressing your thighs back to your ears. With this new angle, he could push his tongue even further in you, taking you to new highs. “M-Miguel…Oh god….” you struggled. ‘How cute’ he smiled to himself. Burrowing his nose into your clit, he’d gotten you to cum in his mouth (exactly what he wanted). He didn’t stop until you were a shivering mess from the overstimulation. He finally removed his mouth, anxious to see your post-cum body. To his immense pleasure, you were a mess-- skin flush, tits heaving, eyes barely open. The bed sank as he crawled over you, his body resting between your legs. He kissed you slow and steady this time-- giving you a chance to savor your own juices. “Open your eyes nena…we’re not finished”.

Obeying, you daze up at your tangled bodies: his forehead on yours, his arms caging you, his bulge pressing into your sensitive center….but he still had on that goddamned suit. You tug the fabric covering his abs, silently telling him to take it off. He obliged, making the suit melt off in a wave of pixels. Being skin to skin, centimeters under him, it was the best view in the world. He looked like a renaissance sculpture and was easily the most attractive person you’d been with. You eagerly drag your fingertips down rippled core, tugging down on the elastic of his compression shorts. It's a bit of a struggle since he’s so huge, but eventually, it plops down on your stomach: thick, 9 inches, perfectly brown, curved, and leaking pre-cum. Without realizing it, a bewildered expression washed over your face-- where was this supposed to go????? You hear him chuckle lowly as he flips you on your stomach with ease. He raises your hips to his, using his other hand to stretch your back into a perfect slope. Next, he starts a trail of soft wet kisses down your spine, causing you to shiver with each contact. “Fuck you’re so cute….” He whispers into your ear. He bites it as he curls his fingers into your sticky slit--forcing a loud moan out of you. “I haven’t even fucked you and I have you like this…I can’t wait to stretch you out princesa…” . His thick fingers pumping you, his warm breath on your neck, his low seductive voice-- it was all too much for you. “...Please Miguel…please….” “Please what? You’re a big girl use your words” he taunted, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck me! Stretch me out!” you yelled out desperately. He took his fingers out your pussy and started pumping them in your mouth, in and out…..in and out. Once you licked him clean, he spread your ass wide-- exposing your tight, wet, aching opening. He slowly dragged his dick along your slit before finally sliding the tip in. “Mmm” he said while you gasped. FUCK you needed more….He continued teasing you, making you wetter and wetter until he savagely thrust the whole thing in you. His rhythm starts off slow, giving you time to adjust to the fullness. You felt SO good clenching around his throbbing cock. The image of him stretching you, the squishy sounds you made, the way your ass jiggled with his thrusts---you made him absolutely feral. He wrapped a clawed hand around your throat, choking you as he pounded into your hole. Your moans became animalistic as he squeezed the out of you, owning you. You tried (and failed) to maintain your arch as he thrust into your g-spot over and over “AH Miguel, fuck….” you said deliriously. “Not yet nena, Fuck not yet…” he grunted. With superhuman speed, he flipped you on your back again. This time you were in a mating press with your hands pinned above your head. He grunted several obscenities while sliding back into you. The clapping of his thrusts competed with the raging thunder outside-- droplets of rain mimicking the sweat on your bodies. When things couldn’t feel any better, he started rubbing on your rock hard clit, crushing his lips against yours to swallow your moan. “Fuck Nena…can I--” “Yes, fuck…please cum in me…” you greedily finished his sentence. With a final sweaty thrust, you finished together. He collapsed on top of you, a panting, blissful mess. He released your hands, allowing you to rub his broad back and shoulders as you kissed.

Catching his breath, he slid out of you and came to your side. He tenderly moved your body towards him, making you his little spoon-- the beast had swiftly morphed into a teddy bear. “So Spidey…do you live far?,” you joked. “You could say that…” He smirked warmly. “Could I trouble you for a place to sleep tonight?” “Maybe…but you should probably sleep on couch. Could be dangerous to let a ‘strange man’ sleep in my bed.” you teased him. Smiling down at you, he caressed your cheek and began to kiss you again. You did this for a while, eventually drifting off in his arms. “Good night Nena…” he said once you’d dozed off already, affectionately kissing your forehead. You both slept peacefully that night, Miguel sleeping better than he had in years.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

The next morning, you woke up naked…and alone. Disappointed, you got out of bed to piece together what had happened, did you make last night up? Fortunately, you noticed the scraps of your thong and t shirt on the floor--last night was definitely real. You got up and looked in your mirror, analyzing your body. You longingly grazed over the hickies he left all over your chest-- your favorite were the bite marks on your neck. Last night was like something out of a movie, the most interesting thing that ever happened to you…..and it was over. You didn’t have a phone number, social media, hell you didn’t even know his last name. He just came into your life, gave you the best dick of your life, and bounced. Typical, back to Earth you went. Recalibrating to your normal boring life, you start to get ready for your day…when you notice something on your desk…a gift bag? You reach inside to pull out a brand new thong and t shirt, a rose, and Plan B with a sticky note on it “Sorry nena, I’ll be more careful next time. Thanks for last night. - M.” ….Next time? It was a short note…but you endlessly looped those words in your brain. With this, a small smile crept on your face. You continued your morning routine, interrupted with thoughts of your next Miguel encounter…..

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Ahhhhh that was my first fanfic! Hope yall liked it :))) PLEASE comment and provide feedback (I'm kinda a slut for comments lol). Anyways, shameless Ao3 plug if you want to support the rest of this series: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48369409/chapters/121995508#workskin

Bye for now xxx

[honestsycrets]

starved | [miguel o'hara x reader]

❛ pairing | new papi!miguel x new mami!reader

❛ type | oneshot: explicit content

❛ summary | peter says he's sex-starved. he isn't. he's just... adjusting to less time with his wife.

❛ tags | breastfeeding miguel, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, touch starved, pissy miguel, spanish is not translated, mention of violence, some cursing, f!reader.

❛ sy’s notes | written as per poll request! thank you everyone who voted.

Miguel likes to work.

Or, he thinks he likes to work.

The fate of the multiverse and all that boring ass bullshit. Peter has heard it all, twice, thrice over. What he knows is what he sees. What he sees is an overworked man running through anomaly files, sending out orders, and not spending time where it really mattered.

“Is that who I think it is?” Peter’s annoying ass house slippers flapped over the ground by Miguel’s feet. Peter’s hands rubbed together, sparking little bursts of heat between his palms. “It is! Mireya!”

Mireya, the newest addition to his small family. She was nestled comfortably in the crook of one of Miguel’s muscular arms as if it were the safest place in the entire world, suckling on what was left of a bottle of breastmilk. Miguel turned to place the empty bottle down on his desk. Peter followed, peeping over Miguel’s arm at her. Despite Miguel’s reservations, her bright brown eyes bored Peter with interest. She cooed at him. “Can I hold her? Let me hold her, it’ll be great! Aw look, she has curls.”

“My daughter isn’t your doll.”

“Look how pretty, she’s just like her mami. All sunshine and dimples and--,” Peter reached forward, easing his scrawny hands under her plush little arms and picking her up. Miguel’s hands fell onto his hips, shifting weight from one foot to the other, glancing down at his feet expectantly. “You know, for a new dad, you’re grumpier than usual.”

“Peter.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he bobbed back and forth, spinning in a circle. She giggled the kind of laugh that was all sugar, making Peter grin even harder. “I mean, wasn’t Mireya your idea? Are you-- y’know?”

“Y’know?”

“Sex starved,” Peter whispered like it was a great, terrible secret. As if in this vast space of silence, someone might catch his words and convict him because of them. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes slid against one another, held for a second, then spread open in an annoyed flick. He fluttered his gloved fingers at Peter to hand Mireya over.

“I’m just saying if you need a night alo--”

“I don’t. I’m not sex-starved.”

He waved him off. His eyes fell on his daughter, boring back up at him with those beautiful eyes he had waited so long to see. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, lulling her back into her late-night slumber, cradled against his chest.

Sex starved, he said. What a shocking joke.

His room was no place for a child. It was perpetually dark, dimmed for his sensitive eyes. So, at the end of the day, Miguel had your room to return to. A real home, one with more than a ratty run-down chair and a lifetime of regrets. A home that he couldn't make alone. Miguel pressed past the bedroom door where he found you overcome by sleep. Just like Mireya in his arms.

He turned his gaze down to Mireya once more, her soft and squishy body a vision of peace. Tiny fists balled up over her belly as she slept in her soft velvet onesie. The whole world in his hands: the start of a happy little family. Only right now, it didn’t feel so happy. Those were the cycles, the push and pull of life.

Tonight would prove to be another silent night with his thoughts. His chest swelled with a rush of air, bunching up his shoulders as he moved to the adjoining room to set Mireya into her warm crib. Torn from his warmth, her palms stretched out, ready to wail. Miguel placed his hand along the wooden rail, his stomach flopping into throbbing anxiety in his stomach. She could wake you up. "Shh," he set his finger in her tiny palm. Mireya’s small hands rested listlessly around her head. The wail never came.

“Mi vida,” your sleepy voice fell over his ears, a gentle caress. He longed to hear it from your lips again. “Is she already asleep?”

“Sí--” he glanced over his shoulder, catching just a sight of one of his favourite little slips. Dusty rose with delicate lace details. He studied the edge of the gown, flowing over your thick thighs as you walked. Shock.

“You look beautiful." You looked down at your soft belly, a mincing smile pulling at your lips. He knew you were nervous, the way your hands obscured your plush belly. Mesmerized, his finger fell away from Mireya's soft grip. Peter's words echoed in his mind, a deep annoyance. It made his skin crawl, this growing annoyance in the acknowledgment that he had no sex in weeks, months. He took a step forward.

“I hope she doesn’t sleep through the night. My breasts are full,” Your fingers skimmed the taut skin. The glint of your wedding band invited him forward as if… you should be his tonight. You were his wife-- and though he didn't expect you to give him relief, he missed you. Miguel dipped his head, stroking the sore muscles of his neck.

Are you, y'know, sex-starved?

“When does she ever..." he couldn't help from saying. He grazed his fingertips over the swollen skin of your breasts, glancing from the skin to your deep, shy eyes. His breath thinned, realizing that you were disengaging, too scared to look him in the eye.

“She does, Miggy,” you breathed. His jaw worked, annoyed. “Lately. You’d know if you came home at night.”

If it was lately, he had no knowledge of it. Every lab screen he pulled up, every status report from Lyla, and every silent night in the lab, obsessing over how his little girl was doing-- he missed it. He should be coming in more often, crossing the threshold of work to family life. His hand cupped the underside of your breast. You winced, embarrassment working on your face. You pushed his hand away, likely feeling exposed by his touch on your tender skin.

“Does it hurt?” He leaned down, mingling his smoky, musky scent with your delicate one. He leaned in to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss along your neck, the warm pulse of your skin against his plump lips.

“Miggy, you’ll wake her up.”

Your fingers laced in his before you pulled him out of the room with a click of the door. He settled his hand on the middle of the door, sliding his hand up your waist, the soft fabric crinkling over the movement. He glimpsed a look at your soft panties cupping your round ass. “Miggy, I… I can’t. I’m tired.”

Of course, you were tired-- He underestimated how much work you took on in her care. He willed the wisps of his desire to snuff out. The distant flicker of hope followed promptly after. Maybe, one day, you would want him again. It wasn't today.

“Ya veo,” he suppressed his frustrated growl, wrinkling his forehead. “Another time.”

It wasn't the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

The anomaly whirled along a cobblestone street, exploding in a cloud of dust and stone. Its many black dipped hands flickered, dulling into little more than a negligible tremor of their limbs. Everyone else noticed the complacency that came with loss of consciousness. Miguel did not.

Miguel sauntered forward, dragged it by its muddy boots out from the crumbly remnants of the wall, and whirled it into another. It wasn't moving. It was done, tired, exhausted. He didn't care, his large hand encompassing its tendril hair and smashing it over the dusty floor. A violent crack, crack, crack of its head scratched his inert need to destroy something, anything, anyone. It fell from his hands with a slump. Miguel spat a bit of blood to the side, his cheek chewed raw under the tension of the moment.

“You need to take Peter up on that offer.”

Miguel stretched his neck one way. Then the other.

“We’ve been over this,” Miguel grumbled, hiking the pummeled body over his shoulder. It gushed blood, streaming into a diluted pink with the downpour of rain. A simple contusion, Miguel said. It was just a contusion. And a concussion. Maybe a gash or two. It would heal if the thing woke up. “I don’t need help.”

“You thrashed it, whatever it was,” Jess said pointedly. Miguel’s finger ran across his watch. The air was stale without an acknowledgment of Miguel’s churning temper, growing into a churning tempest by the passing minute. He stared long and hard through his mask. She drew out the silence as she waited for his response.

“It’s a contusion.”

The portal whirled to life before them in a slurry of vivid color, an unforgiving abyss. Jess slumped her bike with weight on one thigh, hand on her belly. The longer Miguel stared at her, so full and pregnant, the more he was reminded of you. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use-- he saw visages of you everywhere he looked.

“Doesn’t look like any head contusion I’ve seen,” Gwen slid into the portal. His lip curled, annoyed by the obvious objection to what he was saying. If they would let it go-- he could go on about his life, wait for this obsession with his sex life to abate. Wait for you to come back to him.

“You can’t keep taking out your—“

“I am not sex-starved!”

“Convincing.” Jess sped into the portal.

Miguel soothed the stress out of his forehead, opening and closing his palm, a current of energy coursing through his palms. They picked— and they picked— and they picked at him. At some point, he was bound to explode. He only hoped you wouldn't be in his way when it happened. He whipped the anomaly through the portal and followed after.

On the other side of the portal, there was Peter— again. Cooing with his hands on his daughter— again. His dark mask faded away, his suit wicking water off his frame. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located you beside Jess and Gwen. You nudged its crumpled body with your shoe. He didn’t often feel ashamed of his actions. Usually, they were necessary. Something was wrong, your face pinched and curled in disgust. He felt the string of your disapproval pulling through his arms, a slight, incriminating tremor flickering through his finger. He willed it away.

“What did you do to this poor thing?” you turned to Jess, a click-click-click off your tongue. He’d hardly call it poor. “It’s overkill.”

“Girl, ask your husband,” Jess folded her arms, reclining on her bike.

“Mi Miggy?” you went to him. You leaned over, pecking his cheek with a terribly insulting kiss, tickling his jawline. He swallowed. Blinked. Then frowned and brushed off your fingers, finding the care misplaced. You could care for an anomaly but didn't care to ask him how he felt. What he needed. Your voice wilted that sunshine quality, dropping almost to a whisper. “¿Qué te pasa, Miggy?”

“Nothing.”

“Miguel--"

“I said nothing!” He knelt down, grasping its ankle and dragging it down the long, drab hall that stored a variety of anomalies. A line of blood soaked the floor, swerving after his rumbling steps. You took a step forward, snatching his wrist between your fingers. He whirled around, a tremble on his lips firmed out into an unforgiving glare. You let up the pressure on his wrist, allowing him to spin his hand free. “Déjame en paz! There is nothing shocking wrong!”

Mireya cried. So did you.

The admittance that Peter was right wasn’t one that Miguel was about to make openly.

Although he showed up that night, as you informally requested, the night proceeded awkwardly. There was no talk over dinner, not as he watched you feed his little girl, swaying by the window of the enormous city below. As you gazed into the sea of twinkling lights, Miguel came up behind you. His palms encompassed your slight shoulders, moist against your exposed shoulders. His naked chest grazed your back.

"Are you going to apologize?"

Why should he have to? If anyone listened to what he was saying-- he wouldn't be in this mess. Still, Miguel steeled his face. He placed a mincing kiss on the top of your head. His voice thinned out, barely a feather on his lips.

"I snapped."

"You did a lot more than that. You scared her."

You let him sit with his regret until you fell asleep. He debated returning to the lab or his room to try again tomorrow. But he knew his wife. You were attentive to everything that he did. You might take it as a sign of his disinterest. After minutes turned to hours, he breached the door and slid into your bed when he was sure you were asleep.

When his eyes coursed over your figure, he realized all he missed. It was too long since he felt the warmth of a real kiss. Not the brief pecks on his lips as he rushed out the door to help Jess or Gwen or any other number of spiders demanding his attention. He missed the warmth in your eyes, the way they turn into crescents with a happy smile or jaunty laugh. He longed for that sensation of your fingers combing through his hair, taking your time and curling his fluffy hair behind his ear, eyes trained on his alone in a sea of spiders. That… sensation of being the only one that you wanted.

Mireya was that for you now. He longed for it every time he came into the room, seeing you sway with his child in your arms, cradled against your breast, feeding her into a restful sleep. What he thought was a mere seed of jealousy turned out to be a terrible beast, tendrils of resentment that you can’t see what he needs. He needs you. And it isn’t his beautiful Mireya’s fault, no. It’s his.

Instead, he lay there with his palm wretched around his cock, soaked in the artificial lubricant, throbbing into his hand. He remembered his words that night. A begrudging -- Mami, give me a baby-- and how well you took him. Your body seemed to know what he wanted, swelling with his child after a few weeks. He buckled into his palm, cranking around the base and swirling up to his leaking tip, bubbling with his need. He circled his finger over the head, swiping the fluid away.

“What are you thinking about?”

Miguel paused, sweat crept down his thick throat over his broad chest. He shuddered under the weight of your silken words. His hand coiled around his cock in one more jerk, somehow accepting that he had been caught.

“Are you thinking about me? Or is there someone else?”

"Someone else?" he breathed. His lips dropped into a frown, agitation simmering to a boil. It cooled when you looked at him-- but really looked at him. The bed shifted under your weight, ruffling pillows aside. You hoisted your legs over his body, pushing his cock against your soft vulva and his stomach, breasts pushing into his face. So close that Miguel inhaled the uniquely sweet smell of your milk obscured by thin lace.

“Why would I have anyone else?” he asked, his chest distantly aching. His gaze tracked from one breast to the other. He stole a glimpse at your face, stricken with shyness. The slight pout of your lips, eyes refusing contact. “Do you even want me?”

Undoubtedly yes.

“You don’t come to see me. You don't fuck me. You don't even--"

"You're always tired."

"But you could wake me.”

“Could I? To deny me again?” It hadn’t meant to come out so passive-aggressive, but with the natural inflections in his voice, he knew you could read him like a book.

“Oh, papi," not that soft voice. He might hope again. "I always want you.“

Hmpf. Debatable.

“Even when you’re jerking off in my bed. Or couch.” You slid your pink tongue along your lower lip, guiding your body against his. The wet draw of your juices over his dick drew his sharp scarlet eyes to the sight, knocking your stiff clit with his dick. For a moment, his words failed. He should have known you would watch him.

“Is that why you're so... angry? Because of me?" He made a small noise, barely a huff. You drew his hands to your full breasts, obscured by a thin layer of fabric. This time, he smothered a groan in his chest. How pathetic, he thought, to be moaning from something as simple as your firm breasts back in his hands. What was he-- twelve? "Have I been neglecting you, Miguel O’Hara?”

“Yes-- you've neglected me,” he murmured, dragging the lace underneath each breast, knocked together by the straps of the fabric. He melded your breasts again between his hands, massaging the sore skin. His thumps flickered over your nipples, stiffening them into peaks. With a small pinch to your breasts, milk dribbled over his fingertips.

"I won't do it again," he wondered if you missed his touch by the full, grateful hum of your lips, your palms disappearing into his dark hair. You coursed along his dick again, eliciting another piteous noise of longing from his throat. "I promise."

“Hm," was the only agreement. "What a mess,” he teased, not bothering to look at you. It had the desired effect, your shoulders shyly bunching up, the cute pout of your lips, warmth in your cheeks, quivering eyes. He loved it when you looked so fucking shy, so vulnerable, and all for him. "You're leaking all over my hand."

“I’m-- sorry,” you flushed, “It… happens.”

“Mhm, you're full,” Miguel flicked his pink tongue along your stiff, fat nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a suckle. Sweet milk soothed his tongue. He hungrily drank it up, shifting his other hand back to angle his cock at the entrance of your core. A hand left his thick locks and jerked to his broad shoulder, stabilizing your hips down to sink onto him. Blood welled to the surface with your claws scratching piteously along his sunkissed skin. With a bit of resistance, he slid perfectly into your body, just like he always did. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips against your breast. It was somehow different-- the tug and stretch of his cock-- as he fucked the mother of his child. Maybe it was all in his head. “Shock, you’re gorgeous on my dick.”

“Miggy--”

He shifted to the other breast, his hands nearly stapled on your hips, encouraging you to do the work. Your warm milk slid into his mouth, down his starved throat. The pleasure of knowing he was draining you of your milk was tempered with the ever-present fact that soon, you’d have his spunk in your belly again. Your hips flushed, drawing around in quick circles, flushed with his pelvis. Small waves of pleasure grew in your belly. Your stiff clit glided against his skin, again, and again with the undulations of his hips. You felt pinned between his mouth and dick, restricted in movement, but all his, devoured by his need.

“Come here, mi hermosura,” Miguel released your breast from those lush lips, sliding his tongue along his lips to catch the remnants of your sweet milk. He slid down along the pillows, flushing your chest to his, and propped his legs slightly for a better angle. His muscular arms wound around your back, cock pumping into you with renewed vigor. He knocked against your cervix in this position, holding you fast and tight in his arms. You nestled against his sweaty chest, accepting his thrusts so well.

“Miggy-- I’m not-- on anything.”

“You're breastfeeding, close enough,” he mused in your ear as though it were a joke.

You might have argued with him if you weren’t so blinded by that fantastic juddering of his hips. As it were, pleasure rocked all thoughts of birth control out of your mind. Miggy, an ever-present lover, groaned as he held out through your orgasm milking and soaking his swollen dick in your cum. Not a moment later, Miguel forced a long stroke of his dick inside your cunt, reaching his climax buried deep in your tremoring walls. You squeezed him tight, milking him dry of his orgasm until it all faded into fuzzy pleasure. You sighed as his arms loosened, warm and full of Miguel after so long. His soft dick slipped free, cum oozing onto his thighs, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess.

He set a kiss on the top of your head, then your forehead, and eventually snatched your lips in a warm kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue and flushed. Your head dropped down on his chest, listening for the gentle whining of your daughter. It was silent but for the intermingling of your heaving breaths.

After all the issues: the disappointment, the fighting with Peter and Jess, Miguel couldn’t help but chuckle. All it took was jerking off in your bed. He should have known-- you never did like to be left out on his fun. You were always a jealous lover, even at the threat of his own hand.

“Hm? Why are you laughing?”

“Peter said I was sex-starved."

“Well," you glistened a smile, kissing along his jaw. He huffed. "He wasn't wrong."

[moon-rivr]

Obsesssedddd with your Miguel ficsss 💕 I was thinkin, how do you think Miguel would react to seeing his gf in shorts that say “I ❤️ My Boyfriend” on the back of them.

i <3 my boyfriend

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: making out, fingering, reverse cowgirl, unprotected p in v (wrap it 🫵🏼), slapping (like once) and a bit of aftercare

author’s note: this reminded me of the ‘i love my husband’ shirt i have of miguel 😭 anyways, i hope y’all enjoy this lil drabble (and i hope i did ur request justice 🫶🏼)

word count: 1.9k (i think)

To say that Miguel loved seeing you in things that showed the world you were his was a bit of an understatement in of itself.

He'd bought a necklace with his name on it in gold for your year anniversary, a smile crossing his face every time he looked at you to realize you'd never bothered to take it off. It was his favorite thing to look at whenever he had you in missionary, seeing his name dangle around with each of his thrusts.

He made sure to pay for your nails just to get a glimpse of his initial on your ring finger whenever you had your hand wrapped around his cock. Your movements were always so slow and deliberate, a smile on your face as you asked him what his thoughts were on your nails.

"A-ah, they look so good on you mama," he'd always say something along those lines, just the touch of you rendering him completely speechless. You had the power to turn the man into a lovesick puppy at just the snap of your manicured fingers.

You'd been scrolling through Amazon to find items for your shared apartment with Miguel, stumbling across some shorts that you thought would make a nice surprise. They were pretty simple, black shorts that fell to your mid thigh. But, you weren't looking at them for that reason. You were looking at them for the design on the back.

Your order had come in today after countless days of monitoring it through the Amazon app. You immediately placed them on before he got home, laying down on your shared bed with Miguel. You were laying down on your stomach, absentmindedly scrolling through a couple TV channels to find a good show to watch.

"Hey," Miguel’s voice came next to you after he arrived back from his duties at the Spider Society, sounding more annoyed than exhausted. "Hey, how was work?" You asked him innocently, setting the remote down despite not having found something interesting. He deactivated his suit, talking about how incompetent everyone at the Society was compared to him.

The room fell silent after a couple minutes, having you turn your head around to see Miguel’s stare on your ass. "You love your boyfriend, hm?" He asked, more so to himself than to you. You decided to answer him anyways, nodding your head along to his statement. "Why don't you show me just how much?"

You settled onto his lap, feeling his prominent bulge underneath the thin material of the shorts you had on. "Look so pretty all like this," he murmured, leaning in and intertwining his lips with yours. The kiss was messy, more so a clash of teeth and tongue than anything else. Either way, you found yourself chasing after his lips with your own after he pulled away.

You'd been so focused on maintaining the kiss that you didn't notice his fingers making their way into your shorts, a soft gasp escaping your lips when you felt his pointer finger rubbing a small circle on your clit. Miguel swallowed every sound you had to make, continuing to kiss you like his finger wasn't pumping inside of you.

His finger curled inside of you, finding your g-spot easily. "That feel good, mi reina?" He pulled away, the irises of his eyes completely overtaken by his pupils. You were certain you weren't much better, grinding your hips against his for some kind of friction with your mouth open to let out soundless moans. You could only nod at this moment, but that response wasn't good enough for him.

"Come on, let me hear how good your boyfriend's making you feel."

"Oh fuck," you managed to choke out as you felt another one of his fingers inside of you, both of them working in a scissoring motion to stretch your cunt. He pumped them in and out of you at a decent pace, your slick coating his fingers with ease. "Don't stop, please," you told him, slipping further into that euphoria.

His thumb went up to your clit, rubbing small circles around the nub. The friction wasn't enough, you found yourself needing more. You moved your hips sloppily against his, rocking yourself against his clothed cock. Before you had the chance to cum, he pulled his fingers away. "Only place you'll be coming around is my cock," he assured you, bringing his fingers up to his mouth.

"That's it, tu puedes chula. You always do it so well."

You lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding yourself down. Even with just that, you were starting to feel filled up. "It's too much," you whined out, your walls fluttering around his length in an attempt to adjust. "We got all night, mama. I'll wait for you," he told you, his hands coming up to your hips. He rubbed small circles on them, trying to make this process all the much easier.

You were able to slide a bit further, a shaky gasp escaping from your lips. You had your back facing him, the pair of shorts barely pushed onto the side. He insisted on having you keep them on, wanted to see the lettering while you rode him. "Te ves tan linda," he brought his lips up to your shoulders, planting a small kiss on each one. All the while, you still tried to fit him inside of you.

The two of you let out a moan upon you bottoming out, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice. You took a couple deep breaths, waiting for the sting in between your legs to morph into that pleasure you were seeking out. Once the pain dissipated, you slowly made your way up his cock before moving back down. You mimicked a frog in the way you were situated, but it was the most comfortable position to ride him in.

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, his lips clasping onto your shoulder. You rocked your hips back and forth, swiveling your hips around what you could manage. He was too thick for you to handle all of it, settling for just half of his length. "That's it, you got it," he murmured, bringing his hand down to your clit. He gently pinched the nub in between his pointer finger and thumb, rubbing it in deliberate motions afterwards.

When he felt your legs shaking next to his, he decided to help you out. His thighs flexed with every movement he made, his hips moving to meet your messy thrusts. "Ah fuck!" You moaned out, your nails digging into the meat of his thighs every time you felt him touch your g-spot. Your arousal coated his length, allowing for him to slip in easier. He maintained the pace of his fingers against your clit the same as the one he used to thrust inside of you, the stimulation from both ends enough to make you delirious.

"Milking me for all my cum," he moaned out, your cunt clenched around him tightly. No matter how many times he slipped his fingers inside you, it was always the same. You planted his legs onto the bed, rocking yourself back and forth on your own. Though you could feel your thighs starting to ache, you were determined to ride the man until he came. One of his hands situated itself on your hip, making your movements all the much easier.

His attention went down to your ass, seeing such a simple design shouldn't have made him act in this matter. And yet, it did. he couldn't get enough of seeing it jiggle every time you came back down, the hand placed on your hip coming down to squeeze one of your cheeks. He felt you squeeze tighter against him, a new coat of your arousal leaking onto his shaft. "You like that, hm?" he inquired, kneading your ass in between his large fingers.

"Like it so much," you managed to get out, letting out a moan when you felt his palm slapping against your ass. Your nails were digging onto his thigh, the feeling of pleasure morphing into one with pain. It was a feeling he reveled in, seeing the little marks that you left behind littering his body. Whether it be on his back or his thighs, he couldn't get enough of it. You felt a bit ashamed to ask after having rejected his help earlier but the ache in your thighs was getting too much to ignore.

"Need you to fuck me," you told him quietly after a couple seconds, your legs barely moving by this point in time. He didn't seem to hold it against you, his hips snapping up to meet you halfway. "You just take it for me," he assured you, his thrusts faster than you expected. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his cock moving at a pace that you could only dream of accomplishing. A string of your arousal connected the two of you together, your fluids leaking out onto his thighs.

Your cunt clenched around him once more, your vision starting to blank out while you approached your orgasm. Your movements got sloppy, solely focused on getting off. "Squeezing me so good, you're gonna cum?" He asked despite knowing the answer, receiving a moan in response. "Gonna cum gonna cum," you repeated, your nails digging into his thighs. Your release coated his cock once you unclenched around him, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you.

Your release triggered his, his cum painting your walls white shortly after. You fell back against his chest, your chest heaving as you started to come down from your orgasm. He slipped his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, slipping them off for the first time tonight. "Come on, I'll carry you to the shower," he whispered, taking your limp body into his arms with ease.

You didn't need to move a muscle, all you did was sit down on the tub with your back resting against his chest. "Te adoro tanto. you're the thing that keeps me going, i hope you know that," he told you, lathering your body wash onto your arms and legs. "When I want to give up, I just remember that you're waiting for me at home and that's enough for me to keep going. You make this all worth it," he continued, combining the water temperature in between hot and cold just right.

"Thank you. For letting me love you and for loving me," you responded, only turning your head a bit to look at him. "You don't have to thank me. Loving you is so easy," he told you, helping you stand up as the water ran through your body. It was the truth, he'd never pictured himself being able to love anybody after what he'd been through but.. you just made it so easy. Even from the little things you did out of habit, like biting your nails whenever you got nervous, was something that he couldn't help but fall in love with.

"I forgot to mention, I got you these," you got off from the bed, reaching over the nightstand to get him the matching set of shorts. He looked at the back to see 'i love my girlfriend' printed on them, putting them on with no hesitation. The material was just enough to cover his ass but he didn't exactly mind. He liked showing off that he was dating you as much as he liked to see you show it off.

His large arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his body. He kissed the top of your head, helping you out with the TV show dilemma. As if the shorts weren't proof enough, he whispered a quiet 'I love you' before you could fall asleep. You turned around to face him, cupping his cheeks in your hands before you leaned in to kiss his forehead. "And I love you, Miguel," you whispered back to him, shutting your eyes. You fell asleep with ease, his warmth enveloping you like a warm blanket.

tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu (i’m not judging 🗣️)

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[fangswbenefits]

For Science

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?

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

𓂅 𓄹 Warnings: 18+. Fangs. Biting. Venom!play (is that a thing?).

You eyed Jessica Drew with utmost interest as she worked her way around Miguel’s surveillance station, easily dragging files in and out of the multiple screens.

“Why do you get access to his stuff and I don’t?” you asked as sudden jealousy crept in.

“We go way back,” she started, pulling some information to her watch. “You’ll get there in time…”

Your ego soared.

“… if you don’t keep annoying him.”

It immediately plummeted.

“He’s easy to piss off,” you beamed. “And I’m easily entertained. What can I say? Match made in heaven.”

She chuckled at your antics. “Just don’t get yourself expelled.”

You nodded and waved your hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. So have you heard that rumour about him?”

Jessica finished setting up her watch and mission logs and threw you a suspicious look.

“Well… the one that says his venom does more than causing paralysis,” you wiggled your eyebrows, letting the not so subtle implication dangle.

“You know what? One day Miguel is going to kick you out and I won’t do anything about it.”

“What? I didn’t come up with this!”

It was absolutely true. You hard heard it from some spiders one night while strolling throught the lobby. Rumours came and went. No one thought much of them and these were just harmless fun.

“Well, I’m not commenting on this.”

“Fine! But it’s fascinating.”

Jessica sighed, rotated on her feet and went down the stairs. “You can go ask Miguel, then.”

“Ask Miguel what?”

You froze in place as spider-man 2099 entered the dark room, eying both of you.

“Oh, I’m out,” Jessica snorted, heading towards the exit. “You two have fun.”

Miguel kept his gaze on your and you waved a hand at him.

He frowned.

“Lyla, reroute all the main sectors to earth-1610,” he said, pressing on his dimensional travel watch. “Any possibility of a canon event being disrupted must be reported to Jessica.”

The AI appeared next to him and adjusted her heart-shaped glassed up the bridge of her nose. “Is she tagging along, too?” she pointed at you.

He shook his head. “Not a chance. She’s more useful here.”

“Hey!” you were about to protest, but decided against it.

You knew there was a compliment in there somewhere. Your past missions had not gone without some minor bumps, which was why it had been decided the previous day that you’d tag along Miguel for a couple of weeks to hone your off-field abilities.

“Anything major must be reported to me.”

Jessica nodded but Lyla was not so easily dismissed. “I didn’t hear you say iiit.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Thank you for your services as always, Lyla.”

She took a dramatic bow and vanished.

He took large steps towards the platform, greeting you with a curt nod.

How would you describe your relationship with Miguel O’Hara? Tense? On the verse of collapse each time you teased him? Friendly? But only when you didn’t have to spend more than one hour together.

“Morning to you, too, boss,” you saluted.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the screens in front of him.

Maybe you should go easy on him. You were already on thin ice, but just adored pushing him. There was something about teasing him that just did wonders to you.

“Did you sleep well? Did you get some food?”

“Don’t start getting on my nerves.”

You raised both hands, feigning a look of innocence. “I did nothing. You’re paranoid.”

His head turned to you.

“You do have an issue obeying the chain of command. Your last mission was a disaster, because you got into an argument with Peter instead of focusing on the anomaly — don’t interrupt me!” he said pinching the bridge of his nose as you were about to defend yourself. “You have much to offer, but you’re also all over the place and lack discipline. I don’t think you—”

You gave him a jaw-popping yawn which effectively cut him off.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You do know that I was pressured by others to let go of you.”

A long pause stretched out.

“Then why didn’t you?”

In your mind, you had hoped your growing friendship with him had played a part, but…

“You have potential,” he said with a sigh. “One day you might even be better than me.”

Well, that was a high praise and your spine snapped straight instantly. “Really?”

“Maybe… probably not,” he concluded. “But if you keep your focus and work hard, you will be a very skilled spider.”

You rolled your eyes. “Woah, thanks a bunch!”

In truth, you knew Miguel was trying his best to smooth over your bruised ego, but your pride got the best of you.

“Any questions you have, just let me know,” he said reassuringly while glancing at the screens in front of him.

“I can ask anything?”

“Yes.”

“Sooo… have you heard that rumour about your venom?”

It was too early in the day to be so serious, so you genuinely saw no harm in lightening the mood.

He threw you a side glance. “Be specific.”

“Well… that it can cause extreme pleasure,” you blurted out. “Oh, besides the paralysis thingy,” you quickly added.

Miguel turned to fully face you. “I don’t even want to know where that came from.”

Deep down, you felt a pang of disappointment. It would be such an interesting finding.

“Ah, so it’s not true.”

“Probably not.”

That piqued your interest. “Probably? So there’s a chance? It’s just so fascinating, because you’re already so different from the rest of us,” you started rambling not able to hold back your enthusiasm. “Now this is just an added layer!”

You were a scientist at heart and Miguel was pretty much an outlier when it came to being a spider-man. For months you had been trying to let him agree to you running some tests, but to no avail.

In all honesty, Miguel knew his way around science and the inner workings of biology better than you could ever, so he had no reason to indulge your curiosity.

“How do you do it? Is it the same venom or a different one?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Science, remember?”

It was a half truth, though. Yes, this would be mind-blowing science-wise, but this was also about Miguel O’Hara. The very man who had been guiding you through spider society for months. The same men who whose genius and dedication had built the foundations of the spider society.

He now had both hands on his hips and you figured you were already pushing it too far, but enjoyed doing it too much to stop now.

“Can you just tell me how it works? Please?” You clasped your hands together into a beg, hoping it would be enough to bait him for information.

But Miguel remained unfazed.

“No.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you offered expectantly.

He didn’t budge.

“Please, pretty please?” you tried once again.

Nothing.

“I’ll bring you empanadas every single day from now on,” you enthused. “On demand! Whenever you have those cravings. Two in the morning? Check! Canon event disrupted and universes imploding? Check!”

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Is that a yes?”

“No.”

“Just show me how it works,” you sounded desperate by now. Arguing with Miguel ranked high up with the likes of trying to move a boulder with a wooden fork. “How did you get it to work?”

His eyes to widened slightly. “Show you?” he started out. “Are you asking me to pleasure you?”

Now that was probably on your top three of ‘Things you never expect Miguel O’Hara to say’.

“Oh — I mean… well… what?” you stammered, caught by surprise. “I didn’t — you know… huh…”

He only glared at your babbling self.

“Are you… offering?”

Miguel extended his arm to you. “Give me your hand.”

You panicked. “What? Now?”

“For science, right?”

Point taken.

You hesitated momentarily. “You’re not going to paralyse me, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

You offered your hand for him to grip, flipping it palm up. “No.”

“Then I won’t.”

Miguel’s voice was so flat he could just be reading items off a grocery list.

His gloved fingers traced the heel of your palm and his eyes darted down. You held your breath at the sight of him lowering his head. “This might sting.”

And just like that, you watched in complete awe as Miguel O’hara bared his fangs, slowly raking them across your skin before digging into the flesh.

“Ouch!”

Your stomach turned and your heart fluttered as his warm lips grazed the spot he had just bitten. Two circular and symmetrical openings pooled with a tiny amount if blood.

“So? Do you feel a wave of intense carnal bliss?” Miguel asked, straightening up and brushing the droplets away with his thumb.

You merely stood there, waiting for something — anything — to kick in. But as tense seconds ticked by, it was evident nothing was happening.

“No…”

He shrugged, letting go of your hand to tap his watch. “Ah, well. My pleasuring abilities must be below par this morning.”

You scowled at him and considered smashing his arm with a fist. “You could have just said it was all a lie!” you grunted in sheer annoyance, feeling like an idiot. “Now I’m bleeding to death.”

“You’re not going to die.”

“You’re annoying,” you huffed as you checked the bite marks.

“It’s not a lie. I can indeed inject an innocuous version of my venom that can be quite pleasurable,” he said.

“Then do it!” you said, your temper flaring.

Miguel wasn’t one to take orders. He was much more into being the one to call the shots, but your curiosity was eating you alive now that he had revealed that this rumour had some truth to it.

He was now looming over you, his impressive height adding to the tension. “It depends on where I inject the venom. Certain places are more effective,” his voice was uncharacteristicly low as his eyes landed on your neck. “This is just scientific curiosity, right?”

Your mouth had gone too dry to reply, so you just shrugged. Miguel had you taking a few steps back until your lower back hit the railing that lined the platform, causing your hands to clasp around it reflexively.

“Tilt your head.”

You did as you were told and felt his fingers tracing along your jaw, angling you just the way he wanted.

“Hold on tight,” he said, breath now fanning the prickling skin of your neck. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

Feeling your face heat up from the sudden close proximity, you closed your eyes as if embracing for impact. He pressed his lips to your pulse point before digging his fangs slowly into you.

Your mouth dropped open, aghast, and you finally felt it. His venom poured from the fangs and into your bloodstream, spreading through your veins like wildfire. At first, it was just merely a pleasant sensation, like the one you’d get as you finally drank water after a hot day in the sun.

But it soon turned into something else, and unlike water, the new overwhelming feeling was leaving you thirstier with each thump of your racing heart.

Miguel had his hand on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He moaned first — no, he grunted —, and you felt a jolt of almost painful pleasure shot down your spine and spread between your thighs.

Your grip on the metal surface wavered momentarily and you feared you might fall, but were firmly grounded by his other hand on your waist. It didn’t take long until your clit started throbbing in unison with your heartbeat.

“Miguel… this… this…”

Suddenly, your suit felt too tight and in the way, especially once he pressed lightly into you.

The venom was no longer being injected, but the remnants of it were enough to wreak havoc throughout your body.

“It’s just for science…” he growled, pulling his fangs away from you. “Does it feel good?”

You didn’t dare open your eyes and could only gasp when you felt him push his erection into you.

“Yeah… science… or whatever…” you gasped, feeling yourself being pushed over the edge with each second that passed.

Just when you thought your orgasm would hit you slowly, Miguel tilted your head to the side, exposing the intact skin.

You gripped his wrist as if holding on for dear life, fearing you’d explode. “Again?”

“Your body is neutralising my venom too fast,” he rumbled, lips hovering a sensitive spot. “I need to inject more.”

“Miguel…” you nearly cried out at the thought of your heart no being able to handle the intense pleasure.

“Look at me.”

Your breathing evened briefly as you did as commanded, his red eyes fixed on yours, pupils fully blown.

“Think you can do this?”

You blinked.

“I know you can take more.”

Your clit was now throbbing at an alarming rate at the promise of more of him.

Miguel flashed you his blood-tipped fangs before sinking them into you once again.

The liquid traveled through your body so fast, you felt like someone had punched the air out of your lungs. You vaguely wondered if you would die from this, and concluded that there were worse ways to go.

Being on the receiving end of Miguel’ dry humps would be enough to make anyone tip over the edge, let alone with the added layer of venom engulfing you into an explosive orgasm.

Your vision blurred in an instant as spams and contractions swept through your body. The friction of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit had you arch your back into him, feeling the bittersweet realisation that you were clamping around nothing. You weren’t sure if this was his venom’s doing, but you felt an overwhelming part of you wishing he had been inside you.

It hurt.

It hurt so good and lasted for so long, you like crying from the overwhelming tide of pleasure.

Miguel gave you time to ride out your orgasm, pressing a bloodied kiss to your lips, swallowing your cries.

Metallic taste filled your mouth and you broke away from him, gasping for air.

Your eyes landed on his crotch.

He was hard. Painfully hard. A faint stain of precum seeping through the material of his suit.

“You okay?”

You bent over, hands on your knees and laboured breaths.

“Are you?” you managed in between gasps.

Miguel crouched to eye-level with you. “I think you owe me one.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the… scientific… huh… demonstration.”

Masterlist

[fairlyang]

18+ smut. miguel blurb. size kink 🕷️

miguel is such a big guy, apparently over 6'0 so he's taller than the average woman.

and he's so fucking strong he'd just throw you around like a rag doll until you were in the positioned he desired.

now no matter what this man would be so much bigger than you and could lift you up with ease, no questions asked.

one day while he was eating you out right by the front door he didn't have any patience and quickly pulled you up to your feet only to then slip inside you then pick you up from behind.

you held onto his arms while his were wrapped firmly around your stomach, lifting you up while your legs dangled inches from the floor while he pounded into you.

he was able to thrust his hips into yours and it all felt so different. mostly because his arms were tightly around your stomach to hold you in place and of course you felt even more pleasure because that's where his cock was, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

you were a whimpering, needy, moaning mess and it only made his thrusts become harder. they were adding fuel to the fire and was just what he needed to fuck you better.

you held on to his arms for dear life but you knew he wouldn't drop you, nor would he even want to.

instead he pounded into you effortlessly, as if you weighed like a feather. Somehow in this position you were even tighter, which was exactly what Miguel needed.

he needed to use your tight hole to make sure he got to cum, and if carrying you somehow made you tighter, of fucking course he was going to carry you.

his head was right behind yours and you could hear every grunt and dirty nothing he'd groan out while his pace became more rapid.

"take that fucking cock baby."

"doing so good for me."

"so fucking tight."

and you'd go on to stroke his ego because you knew how much it'd make his head spin to a mess.

"you're just so strong baby."

"too easy for you."

"fucking me so good."

and as soon as he felt you clench against him while you said these things he literally couldn't help but cum deep inside you.

he held you tightly as you both came and he made sure to still be inside you so not a single drop of his cum would come out.

he knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd be fucking you while lifting you up just based off both reactions from your bodies.

[beabidobi]

oohooo i saw you asked for ideas

i had this mig x civilian reader where the readers like rlly affectionate and hugs miguel a lot whenever he comes home and is physically affectionate

but like one day maybe through peter or lyla or someone she gets to know miguel normally finds physical touch annoying and she feels guilty

so she doesn’t hug him when he comes home and he’s like ???? but she’s reluctant to do anything for fear of making him uncomfortable or annoyed at her and it goes on for a while and mig is not afraid he’s done something because the only person he truly loves to be physically affectionate with now isn’t doing anything with him

and it’s all resolved because they communicate like good adults 😭😭

ahhh I love this

f!reader x miguel o’hara (although no pronouns are used I don’t think)

warnings: literally just fluff, teeny tiny sprinkle of angst

You’ve always been a very affectionate person, often wanting to be close to your loved ones as much as you can. Especially your partner Miguel, who you’d give most of your affection to. Kissing his cheek whenever you get the chance, sleeping against his chest and greeting him at the door with a hug whenever he arrived home. He’d return your hug everytime, which you always thought wasn’t just for your own benefit, but for his too. It came a bit of a shock when Peter mentioned he hated physical touch, finding it annoying and a waste of time.

While Peter was showing you pictures of Mayday being reluctantly held by Miguel, you were mostly tuning out his waffling until you catch him say, “But it’s Miguel, he hates people touching him.”

You already knew he could be quite distant sometimes, but you never thought he didn’t like your touchiness. You never once thought it was making him uncomfortable or annoyed, but maybe it was. “He does?”

“Have you met the man? He avoids it like it’s the plague. Apparently it’s a waste of his time.” Peter replies and goes back to scrolling through his photo album of Mayday.

After a long day of saving the multiverse, Miguel was ready to go home to his partner. Ready to indulge in your sweetness and love, which you were always eager to give. So when he arrived home and didn’t hear your footsteps rushing to greet him, he was concerned.

“Amor?” He calls, walking to the living room where your sat on the couch reading a magazine. [Love]

“Hey, how was work?” You ask, glancing up from the book.

Either he’s done something wrong or you’re upset about something else. “Same as usual, are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. Do you want pizza tonight?” You didn’t seem mad at him, but then again you rarely were so he couldn’t tell.

“Sure, I’m going to get changed.” He says, disappearing into the bedroom. He changes into sweats and checks around for something he may have done. You were stocked up on toothpaste, he’d made his side of the bed, he’d even closed the toilet seat.

Miguel returns back to the living room, sitting on the couch next to you, fully expecting you to come and snuggle up to him or sit on his lap, as you usually do. But nothing. You acknowledge he’s there but make no movement.

“Did you order the pizza yet?” He asks.

You simply nod, “Yeah. Did you want something else?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He’s far from fine. He’s sure he’s on the verge of going insane at the distance between you two. “Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks, knowing you always like to lay on his chest when you both watch tv together.

“Sure.”

An hour later, the movie credits were rolling and you were still on the opposite side of the couch. You’d eaten and talked to him, but still didn’t come closer and it was killing him.

The final straw was when you both went to bed. You always slept with your head on his chest or spooned against his back with your legs entangled with his, but once again you made no effort to lie in his arms.

“Mi amor, what are you doing?” He asks, lips turned downwards in a frown. [My love]

“I thought we were going to sleep.” You reply, equal confusion written on your face.

“No, I mean why are you not touching me?” He asks, a rare vulnerability in his voice. “Did I do something?”

“What, no!” You exclaim, confusing him even further.

“Then what’s wrong?” You could’ve started bawling at the expression on his face. He truly thought he’d done something wrong, eager to fix it.

“You haven’t done anything, it’s just that, well, I was talking with Peter and he mentioned that you hate physical touch and I was worried you found me overbearing or clingy.” You explain.

“Peter.” Miguel scowls and his voice grows soft as he reaches to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Cariño, you should never listen to that idiot.” [Honey]

“So you don’t hate it?” You ask, relief rushing through you.

“Well, I do, but I’ve never hated it with you.” He says, continuing when your eyebrows furrow. “I’ve always disliked any touch because it’s not comfortable for me, that’s until I met you. I don’t think I can live without your touch, in fact I don’t want to. So can we please go to sleep, with you in my arms?”

You smile softly and nod, “Sorry for being silly.”

He shakes his head, smiling and pulling you into his arms. “Don’t apologise. Moral of the story, don’t listen to anything Peter says.” He grins, dropping a kiss to your head. “Te amo.” [I love you]

You laugh softly, returning the words before drifting off to sleep. “Love you too.”

reqs open!! ♡︎

[sainzboxd]

like a cat | miguel o’hara

pairing : miguel o’hara x reader

warnings/tags : implied shower sex, mirror sex, kinda mean dom!miguel o’hara x sub!reader, good ole p in v action, clit stimulation, the use of the word slut once, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it irl), breeding kink, husband!miguel, wife!reader,

wc: 762

author’s note: wasn’t proofread at all..posting this as i am about to head to bed rah. one of those ‘felt cute might delete later posts’ haven’t actually seen atsv so no spoilers i think, also let’s talk about miguel’s fangs ugggggh.

miguel loved control. you would think that leading a secret society of spider-people would satisfy him but no it’s just too much stress. chasing anomalies after anomalies tired him out and what he needs is a break.

what he needs is you.

he knew that you were waiting for him to come home, heck he knew you were worried sick. he hasn’t been home for a few days, so when they finally finished their mission on another earth, he practically ran home to your dimension.

finally reaching home, he ransacked the place looking for you. you were in the shower hearing your name being called out from outside. you turn the water off, calling for him. miguel couldn’t wait, he enters the bathroom drunk on the thought of you and what he wants to do to you.

“eyes up princesa.” he demands you look at the mirror adjacent his bed. your eyes catching his, it’s been a few days since you last saw him. it was clear that you both missed the feeling of each other. you’re his sweet girl, and

he’s been thinking about having you this way for days.

his hand lands on your ass, as he continues pounding into you, still keeping eye contact with each other despite you having a hard time complying with his command. you mewled as he kept hitting your pleasure point, you forced yourself not to look away from the mirror.

“so beautiful like this.” he says. the view you’re seeing was breathtaking, miguel’s hands gripping your hips, as he pounds into you with ease, his actions shaking the bed, your boobs swaying every time he inserts his length into you.

you hear him groan as you clench your walls around him. your eyes brimming with tears–you were so fucked out, you were reaching your fourth orgasm of the night and miguel was far from finished from toying with you.

“i-i can’t.” you say, looking down. the man behind you halts his actions, slapping your ass before pulling your hair back to look at the mirror in front of you. he leans into your ear, his fangs resting at the side of your neck, he was warning you… “take what i’m giving you, slut.” he says, before going back inside you.

you moan as he pushes deeper, each thrust getting harsher and harsher, you call out his name, gripping the sheets underneath you tighter as you feel your orgasm coming up. “fuck miguel- i’m- i’m gonna cum.” miguel takes his right hand off of your hips, directing it towards your clit, gently rubbing it in circles helping you in reaching your high.

“love seeing you like this honey. what do you say? should i put a baby in you ? hmm?” you get wetter at the thought. you arch your back towards him more, heaving breaths leave you as you get closer.

“you like that huh?” he taunts.

your neighbors probably hate you by now… how long have you two been at it? an hour? maybe two? you weren’t sure, but you were sure as hell this is the loudest you’re being.

miguel was cursing, groaning as he nears his climax, his movements become sharper as he’s focused on getting you both to chase your highs. “ah fuck, im close” he groans as you reach your peak, your walls clenching against him, squeezing his dick in you, your whines being drowned out by his moans, as he fucks you through your orgasm.

he finishes inside of you. you moan at the feeling of emptiness as he removes his dick from your hole. you practically plop on the bed, tired from the night you both just had.

you were about to say goodnight but miguel had other plans. he moves your body to face his. still on top of you, he kisses your neck, you feel his sharp fangs against your skin as his kisses move down. he spreads your legs, kissing your inner thighs before licking a line through your slit. you gasp as he sucks on your clit.. “m-miguel-“ you stuttered.

he chuckles lowly, and smirks. “what ? did you think i was done with you?“

[gejo333]

Artist credit: @chocolate_duckling via Instagram or TikTok. It’s so cute I just really wanted to show this artist’s work. This is only the first drawing to the set. 💕You should check them out.

An Unexpected Match IX

Pt. 1 Pt.10

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: Drama goes down at the holiday party😭😱… and did Miguel keep a secret from you?

Will you be able to enjoy your Christmas and New Years in peace?

Happy New Years Everyone!

Sorry this chapter took longer to get out. It’s my largest chapter yet. I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy💕

Wc: 10k

————————————————————————

"Gabi, this is your mother."

Gabi looked at Sofia before looking back up to Miguel as she shook her head. "No, that's not my mama." Gabi glanced up to you, something you noticed everyone in the close vicinity saw, including your parents.

"No Gabi. I'm your real mom. Not her." Sofia put on a fake smile.

Hearing the tense conversation from the kitchen Stephanie came over as she stood next to you, giving Sofia the, 'make one wrong move and I'll fight you bitch,' gaze.

"Hey Gabi, how about you go with Aunt Steph to the kitchen."

"But I want to stay with you and Papa." Gabi looked up at you with sad eyes breaking your heart.

"Mija, remember the conversation we had earlier in the living room?" Said Miguel followed by a slow nod of Gabi's head. "That conversation is going to happen now. So it can only be grownups at the moment." He added.

"We can decorate cookies in the kitchen Gabi." Said Stephanie as Gabi slowly walked over to her before taking her hand. Stephanie looked at you giving you a small hopeful smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'm guessing you need to tell us something?" Said your father as he crossed his arms looking between you, Miguel and Sofia.

Sofia smirked, "wow, your parents don't know that their daughter has been fucking a man almost two decades older than her for the last few months." She chuckled, knowing full well that she just told your biggest secret the most horrible way possible.

"Sofia." Miguel snapped at her warning her to stop. But it was too late. You looked to your shocked and upset parents before scanning around the nearby people who heard the conversation.

"This was not how you were supposed to find out." You tell them.

"Backyard now." Your Father said. Your eyes widen, shocked from his angry tone. You had never heard you father speak to you like that. Not once.

"You. We're not finish yet." Miguel said to Sofia. You'd never seen Miguel give such a muderous glare to someone before, but that plus his cold tone sent a chill up your spine.

"Wasn't planning on leaving any time soon."

"And if I find out you were near our daughter while we're outside. There will be hell to pay." Miguel pointed at you when he said 'our daughter,' which made your heart melt before coming back into reality from the glare Sofia sends you from Miguel's words and you winced when you heard your mother gasp.

All four of you walked out to the backyard, farthest from the house so people can't hear.

Your parents looked at Miguel before looking back at you both upset. The awkward silence continued until your father spoke up: " you care to explain what's happening between you two?"

Miguel looked to you, noticing your panicked stars making you have a hard time to speak.

"I'm in love with your daughter and we've been together for almost five months."

"Y/n, you can't possibly be in love with a man you met only 6 months ago! How did this thing even start?! Was Tyler right? Did you cheat on him with Miguel?" Your mother said going into a rant.

"First off, I do love him, way more than I ever felt for Tyler. And I can't believe you would think I would cheat on that bastard when he cheated on me. Like I told you earlier, my relationship started after I caught Tyler cheating on me."

"Hold on." Your father said as he began to grow more upset. "The morning I came to your house and asked you where my daughter is, she was with you wasn't she? And you lied to my face when my wife and I were worried sick where she was! She's only 21 Miguel. She's too young for you."

"I'm a grown woman and responsible adult. I'll be with whoever I want to be with." You argued.

"Sam, Sarah. She's been well taken care of these past few months." Added Miguel.

"You live with each other?! Y/n when I asked you where you were living you said with Stephanie."

"I did live with Stephanie. For the first month right after I moved out of the apartment I shared with Tyler."

"So, how did this even hap-" asked your farther before being cut off by your mother, "when did you both actually meet?"

Your eyes widen, as your heart began to beat faster. Your gaze turns to Miguel before looking back at your parents pissed expressions. You knew the next few words were going to make everything way worse.

"We did only meet six months ago. But, the first time we did met was in Miami."

"You mean two years ago in Miami? When you were only 19?!"

"You had sex with my daughter when she was 19?!" Your father grew more livid, as he was about to come after Miguel. Of course Miguel would easily be able to hold his own, however you wouldn't see it happen as you step in front of your father.

"Get out of the way y/n." Your father warned you. When you didn't move a second later he grabbed you harshly by the wrist, making you wince as he nails cut into you as he pulled you away.

On instinct Miguel pushed Sam back as he grabs you by the waist and back to him. He quickly checked your wrist, anger rising on his face when he saw the already forming bruises.

"Dont you dare harm her again. We're leaving." Miguel was about to lead you back inside the house when your mother gently grabbed your non-brushed arm and said with a serious gaze,

"We'll stop paying for school. We won't pay for graduate school either, if you continue this." Said your mother, concerned etched on her face. Your eyes widen, anger coursing through your body.

"You're going to make me chose between my education and the man I love? Please don't make me do that. You know what I'm going to chose." You give Miguel's hand a squeeze knowing it would always be you and Gabi first.

"I'll pay for the rest of her education." Miguel joined in.

"That's insane. Her senior year alone will cost almost 50k for one semester. Plus forget about us helping you with your student loan debt. And that's way more than just 50k and that's just undergrad." Argued your mother, trying to scare him away.

"I can easily afford it. Money doesn't scare me away." Miguel shot back, knowing full well the intention behind her words. You looked to Miguel with a confused look before looking to your father who says, "she's too young to handle a world like that."

"Too young to handle what world? Miguel what's he talking about?"

"Mi amor, I was going to tell you soon."

"Wow, little miss perfect really is clueless." Sofia chuckled as she walked into the backyard.

"Sofia, get out. None of this concerns you." Miguel said before you stepped away from him, walking closer to her.

"Hold on, what am I so clueless about little miss bitch?" You bite back.

"I'll give you that sweetie, just because I'm such a nice person. It's kind of funny how you never thought of looking up your boyfriend. But like come on, who doesn't know about Nueva York's most successful, self-made billionaire Miguel O'Hara. And one of Nueva York's top socialite bachelors." Sofia tried to stifle her laughter when she saw your shocked expression.

Your eyes widen, a hurt expression crossed your eyes as you looked at Miguel who looked back at you with a sad and apologetic look before his gaze returned to a vicious glare back at Sofia.

"How did you even find where I lived, Sofia?"

" I found you from a tabloid Magazine of Mr. Richie rich picking up his doting girlfriend at her college. You can't possibly not have known about his wealth. You must be a really good gold digger to fool him." Sofia's words turned back to you.

"I-" You were having trouble finding words to argue back. Luckily Miguel stepped in to save you.

"You must have been oblivious not that long ago, Sofia. Because I remember our shitty relationship ending because I was too poor. And I bet the reason your back isn't for Gabi but because you also found out I have money."

"How dare you think I'm not here to see Abby."

"It's Gabi." You glare at her with a look of disgust that she couldn't remember her own daughter's name.

"Right. Well I'm not leaving anytime soon. I want time with my daughter."

"Over my dead body. You gave up all your custody rights when you abandoned her at my apartment when she was only a day old!" Miguel's voice grew slightly louder, growing more angry by the thought of Gabi being taken away from her family. You put your hand in Miguel's, your thumb gently caressing his knuckles to help calm him down.

"Maybe we should leave." You say to him, which he looked to you, gaze becoming soft as he nodded, still trying to calm down.

You both walk back into the house ignoring your parents yelling at you from the background, ignoring all the stares, and comments. You head to the kitchen as you see Gabi with Stephanie and Jack decorating cookies.

"Hey, thank you for watching her. We decided we're going to leave. I'll see you in a few days." You give Stephanie a small smile as you wipe Gabi's face off from the green frosting with a wet napkin before you pick her up in your arms. You hear your parents back inside as they call out for you, still upset. But you ignore them as you and Miguel leave.

You head to Miguel's car where everything for Christmas and staying in the city was packed. You buckle Gabi in her car seat, placing a kiss to the top of your head a smile escapes your lips as you see her yawn before you get in on the passenger side.

The entire ride to the city was in silence. You were slightly upset at Miguel for lying to you, maybe more upset since you were heartbroken by your parent's heartless reaction about your relationship with Miguel.

Miguel entered a large driveway to a luxurious apartment complex, where a man in doorman uniform came to the window with a welcoming smile. "Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Would you like the car parked?"

"Yes, thank you. Also could you have the things in the trunk sent up to my apartment?"

"Of course, sir."

You and Miguel got out of the car, you grabbed your purse as Miguel carried a now sleeping Gabi in his arms. He handed the young man a $100 tip before he guided you inside the modern apartment complex. Walking inside you were greeted by someone friendly at the front desk.

"Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Welcome back." To which Miguel nodded and smiled to the person in response.

When you entered the elevator Miguel pressed a fob key to a scanner, before the elevator began to move up. You noticed there were no buttons for levels, which you thought was interesting. Your gaze met his, as you saw that he wanted to say something but decided against it.

After a few minutes the elevator stopped and opened up to a vast and nice entry way. When you stepped outside and turned the corner your eyes widen by the massive penthouse. Your gaze quickly switched from the nice interior decoration to the gorgeous night skyline of Nueva York. Maybe if your heart didn't ache you would have enjoyed seeing this view for the first time.

"Cariño, I put Gabi in her bedroom. I know there's a lot we need to talk about. But first I want to say I'm so sorry that I didn't say anything about who I was I-" you turned to face him with a small smile as you interrupted him.

"Miguel, you don't need to give me an excuse. It's your money. Maybe I was a bit naive, as you do have two properties plus you bought one upstate. But I just thought you did really well at your job at Alchemax. Did I expect you to be a billionaire? No. But that doesn't change anything between us. I guess what maybe it hurt a bit. The reason why you didn't mention it was maybe you didn't fully trust me yet. Like maybe what Sofia said about me being a gold digger, maybe you were waiting to see if I was one or not. Or maybe that's just my insecurities consuming my mind. And I'm not even upset. I'm more upset at myself that for even a minute that I was upset at you for it. But I'm not. I just think with my parents reaction and Gabi's mom coming to the party unexpectedly I just didn't know where to put my emotions and I'm sorry."

You look up at him with tears in your eyes, trying to hold them in. But a second later you couldn't hold them much longer as they poured down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you  against him into a hug, as he brushed the hair out of your face as well as wiping away your tears.

"I hate to see you this way, mi amor. It breaks my heart when you're hurting like this. You don't need to apologize, at all." He lifted your chin lovingly as he added, "I have always trusted you. Since day one I have always thought of you as a kind and loving person. Even with the slight knowledge that I do well, I never thought of you as a gold digger. That's just Sofia, trying to get into your head. She is a gold digger not you. Also, you are Gabi's mom not Sofia. I might have said that at the moment, cause I just was in shock at the party. At the moment the words to explain how she biologically is her mother was not coming to my mind. You are Gabi's mom. Gabi see's you as her mom and I see you as her mom, as well as the love of my life. And I think we should explain it to her tomorrow morning. And I'm sorry that your parents reacted like that. I knew that they might have been a bit upset, but I didn't think they would act so cruel. But they aren't your only family. Gabi and I are your family just as much as they are. And as your family and your boyfriend I will pay for the rest of your education."

"Miguel... no. I can figure it out on my own. It's my responsibility. And I will find a better part time job to help pay for the rest of college and I will set up a payment plan with my loans. Most people do this."

"Cariño, I can't just stand to the side and let you struggle with debt. Please let me help you." You get out of his embrace, looking up at him slightly annoyed that he won't take no for an answer.

"Are we really going to get in an argument over this?"

"We won't because I'll pay for it."

"Miguel, please just let this one go. Please." You look up at him with pleading eyes, to which he let out a sigh, deciding to let it go for now. He pulled you into another embrace leaning in to place a kiss to your lips which you happily returned. After the kiss you stay in each other's arms, trying to forget all of the stress and worries from tonight.

"Mama, Papa."

You and Miguel turned to see Gabi from the hallway in her Pjs and holding her favorite stuffed Bunny in her arms.

"Oh Baby bug, what are you doing up so late? We thought you were asleep." You say and you and Miguel walk over to her as he picks her up in his arms. You brush some of the curls out of her face and behind her ear.

"I couldn't go back to sleep. And I heard you crying mama and I wanted to give you a hug to make you feel better." Said Gabi as she pouted, not liking the thought that you were sad. You took Gabi into your arms as you gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry if I woke you. I'm alright though, but thank you for your hug. It helped a lot." You smiled which made Gabi's pout turn into a grin as she wrapped her arms around your neck, "I love you mama."

"I love you too my baby bug. Now let's get you back to bed."

"Wait, who was that lady at the party? Papa said she was my mama, but you are my mama." You and Miguel look at each other before you both sit on the sofa in the living room. Miguel picked up Gabi and sat her on his lap as you sat right next to him, putting her feet on your lap.

"I'm sorry if I confused you earlier, princesa."

"I asked Auntie Stephanie and Uncle Jackie, but they wouldn't tell me anything. They just kept on giving me cookies to decorate." Gabi pouted slightly. You internally chuckled when you heard Gabi call your brother Uncle Jackie. You were never going to stop teasing him about that.

"Well I'm glad they didn't tell you because it's better that Mama and I explain it to you." Said Miguel as you noticed he try to stifle a laugh from the silly nickname she gave your older brother. Miguel looked back at you, worry in his eyes. You smiled softly and brushed some of his dark curls that have fallen out of place behind his ear. Even though Miguel has been in the parenting game a lot longer than you, you could see that he was still learning too. He smiled at you before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

" Sometimes not all Mama's and Papa's are biologically related to their children. But that doesn't mean they aren't your Mamas and Papas. The woman you met today, she isn't your Mama. I'm sorry that I confused you earlier. Papa wasn't thinking properly. Y/n is your Mama, but the woman you met today, Sofia, she carried and gave birth to you."

"Are you bio-logitally to me Papa?" You and Miguel lightly chuckled as Gabi tried to pronounce such a big word for her age.

"Yes, I am."

"How did you help that lady bring me to life?" Both your and Miguel's eyes widen from her question as your cheeks tinted pink and Miguel coughed from the sudden question.

"That's a question that will be answered when you're old enough to understand." You chuckle as you pick Gabi up and hold her in your arms. "But even though I didn't give birth to you. You'll always be my daughter and my baby bug. And I will always love you."

"I love you too Mama." Gabi wrapped her tiny arms around your neck again giving you another hug.

"Now let's get you to bed."

All exhausted from the hectic events taking place both you and Miguel got undressed and under the covers, falling asleep right away in each others arms.

The next morning you woke up to the beautiful city view skyline, bringing a warm smile to your face happy to finally enjoy the beautiful scenery before you. You sit up to look for your phone, but notice it was on Miguel's side table charging. Another smile came to your face, as you loved how thoughtful Miguel was to you. Knowing that the sun was up, you knew he would be up any minute so to get your phone you decided to straddle him before leaning over to grab your phone.

You turned it back on a frown forming on your lips as you saw the hundreds of texts and miscalls from your parents and siblings. You scrolled through some of them, and rolled your eyes seeing the repetitive cruel things your parents said yesterday now on text. The messages from your brothers were nicer, just trying to be the bridge between the two disputing sides.

Large hands made their way to your waist, as his thumb gently rubbed circles to your sides. You places the phone to the side as your frown is replaced by a warm smile as you looked down at your half-awake boyfriend.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, cariño. Though I'm really enjoying waking up to you straddling me, I didn't think I would see you frowning first thing when I see your beautiful face. What's wrong?"

You leaned down and gave him a good morning kiss, to which Miguel took the advantage of wrapping his arms around you and bringing you down on to his chest, which made you laugh in surprise between his loving kisses. Placing one more kiss to his lips you place your face in the crook of his neck, enjoying the mixture of his shampoo and cologne blending into a welcoming scent of citrus, bamboo, amber, patchouli and musk. With his alluring smell, the gently combing his fingers through your hair, and the rhythm of his beating heart made you almost fall back asleep.

"I checked my phone, thank you for charging it for me. But I saw what feels like a hundred texts and miss calls from my parents. And it's all the same horrible stuff they were saying last night."

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Obviously they'll be calling us both today. I just say we ignore it for now and enjoy the our time in the city." Miguel said after checking his phone to see just as many texts and miss calls from your parents.

"I think that's a good idea. Oh, forgot to say. Merry Christmas Eve." You kiss up his neck to his chin before reaching his plush lips.

"Merry Christmas Eve, mi amor."

After a few more sweet kisses you decided to unstraddle his lap, to Miguel disappointment. But you tease of a person, whispered in his ear, "I'm hoping Santa Claus visits me tonight. But I think I'm on the naughty list." You gently kiss the side of his neck before getting up from the bed and leaving a blushing Miguel as you quickly put on a pair of his sweat pants and one of your bras and tank tops before going to the elevator where all your things from the car were neatly placed by the doorman.

You grabbed the bags of all the gifts you had bought and bring them back to the bedroom. When you entered, Miguel was sitting up in bed looking at his phone, obviously irritated.

You set the bags down, except for one semi-large box. You get back on the bed as you straddle his legs and place the box on his lap.  "Maybe this will let that iconic O'Hara smile show. Is everything ok though?"

Miguel placed the phone on the bed next to him, surprised to see the box on his lap as his smile reappeared.

"I guess out of spite, your mother gave Sofia my new phone number. And now she won't stop texting me. She's being 'nice.'" Miguel air quotes the word nice before he handed you over his phone so you could see. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw the sickly sweet messages from her. However, you smiled when you saw the text he sent her back, obviously irritated and asking her not to text him again.

"Enough about the pains in our side. I got you something. Ok, maybe it's for us. But you don't get to see the other part until tonight." You wink at him, which earned a smirk on his lips as he opens the box. His brows furrowed with a smile on his face as he lifted pieces of soft red and white clothing. You decide to get off the bed as you see him get out of bed, getting a nice glance of only him in his boxers before he put on the suit.

Your eyes widen, grin growing, cheeks growing a shade red as you see him in the final product. He wore a deep red Santa suit with white fluff lining down his chest meeting into a middle right above his waist with a large black belt and followed by deep red pants that shaped him just as well at the top part. And it all matched with black boots.

"How do I look?" Miguel smirked. You walk up to him as you placed your hands on his bare chest.

"Really sexy. Maybe too sexy. I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands of you." You chuckle.

"I like the words coming out of your mouth."

"I bet you'll like what my mouth is going to do." You go on your knees, eyes never leaving his reddish-brown. Settled between his legs as you lower his pants and free his erect cock.

You stroked him a few times before you dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat your lust-filled gaze not leaving his own as a groan escaped his lips.

"Mi amor, your too good to me. I don't deserve you or your pretty mouth." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum against his cock in approval, earning another groan from Miguel's lips. Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; but as this wasn't the first blow job you've given him, you've gotten quite enough practice to be able to deep throat him now. As he continued his movements you continued to move your tongue along his cock.

"Fuck baby, I can't last much longer." Miguel thrusted his cock as deep as it could go before spilling it into your throat. You happily take him all before removing your mouth and licking his tip clean. You slowly wiped your thumb across your lip, as a bit was left on your lips before you licked it off your finger, while your gaze stayed locked on his.

"My god, mi amor. You make me want to ravage you when you do that."

"Why don't you then." You grin, standing up from your spot on the ground. Miguel grabs you and puts you on the bed, as you get on top of you he raises you shirt kissing your stomach up to your breasts, as he was about to take a nipple into his mouth the doorbell rang from the hallway.

"What was that?"

"Nothing hermosa." Miguel said as he took a nipple in his mouth, before lowering one of his hands into your sweats about to finger fuck you. However, the doorbell rang again. A growl of frustration left Miguel as he kissed your lips before getting off of you. He checked his phone, and sighed. "Ese maldito hermano mío. Gabriel's here early. Again. I'm sorry cariño." (that damn brother of mine.)

"It's ok, Miggy. We can continue later. Plus I still have that second part of the gift to show you tonight." You kiss him one more time before getting off the bed.

"I can't wait for it."

After both getting quickly dressed in proper clothing, Miguel pressed a button on his phone that let the elevator come up to the penthouse.

As the elevator doors open, walked in Gabriel with his usual bright smile as he carried in

two bags filled with gifts.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you again! I'm hoping my brother hasn't been tormenting you too much. Blink twice if you need saving." Gabriel  chuckled as he set down the bags as he gave you a hug which you happily returned.

"Juro por Dios..." Miguel lightly glared as he sent him a 'I'm going to kill you,' smile at his brother as he stood right next to you.

"He's been good. And I'm good too. It's nice to see you again. Feels like it's been a while." You chuckle at Gabriel's silly personality.

"Now where's my little sobrina." (Niece)

"Asleep. She went to bed late, so we're letting her sleep a bit longer." Said Miguel.

"Aw, ok. Is she ok?" Gabriel asked, worry etched in his tone.

"She's fine. A lot happened yesterday. My parents , well the neighborhood knows about our relationship now and..." you looked to Miguel.

"Sofia somehow found out where I lived and came to the holiday party and said to Gabi that she was her mother." Added Miguel.

"Yeah, I would probably have a hard time sleeping too. And I can't believe that damn woman shows up after everything she's done." Gabriel eyes widen before a his brows furrowed and a frown appeared on his face, something rarely that happens, by the mention of Sofia's name.

"We decided though that we are going to live our lives and try to ignore it all as much as we can." You said.

"That sounds like a good plan. Now, let me make you all a proper Christmas Eve breakfast, my brother never can get our mother's recipe quite right." Gabriel heads to the kitchen.

"I swear he wants me to punch him." Miguel grits his teeth as he sends a glare to the back of his brother's head. You chuckle as you caress Miguel's cheek.

"How about you go check on your emails really quick in your office and I'll go help Gabriel in the kitchen." You go on your tip toes as Miguel nods before he leans down the rest of the way to kiss you, giving you a loving smile before heading to his office.

You head to the kitchen wear you see Gabriel cracking eggs into a bowl.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You smile as you wash your hands before drying them.

"Yes, you can. Can you grate some of these cheeses?"

"Sure thing." You smile as you go through the many cabinets trying to find the cheese grater.

"Third bottom cabinet to your right."

"Thank you. It's my first time here, so I don't know where everything is." You go to the right cabinet and take it out before you hoping Gabriel at the kitchen island and started to grate the cheeses for the omelettes.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened last night?" Gabriel looked over at you with a small smile before looking back at the task before him. You smile back as you tell him everything that happened last night, from Gabi starting to call you Mom, parents finding out about your relationship with Miguel told by Sofia who appeared out of nowhere and causing trouble herself, and then the part about how you didn't know about Miguel's wealth status, also cruelly told by Sofia.

"Wow, that definitely is a crazy night. I'm happy you also know about Miguel's 'status,' he's been wanting to tell you for a long time, but he just didn't know when to say it. I guess he was worried you might leave. But he never said that, but I can just hear it in his voice. My brother has had girlfriends in the past, but he's never loved someone like he loves you. He's heads over heels for you." Gabriel smiles at you as he moved to pour the eggs into the pan.

"Well, I hope he knows this. But I'm heads over heels for your brother. I can't imagine not having him or Gabi in my life." As if on cue Miguel walked into the kitchen, with a loving smile on his face as his gaze met yours. You cheeks tint pink, wondering if he heard you and Gabriel's conversation. He places his hands on your hips as he pulled you into his embrace from behind, taking your chin and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I love you." He said. Your cheeks grew a shade darker. Oh he definitely heard your conversation.

"I love you too."

"Ok, you two. Either get a room or help me with cooking." Gabriel chuckled as he connoted to make the omelettes.

You saw Miguel roll his eyes, as he leaned down to kiss your one last time before he gently pushed Gabriel away from the stove, "I'll do it. You're burning them."

"B-burning them? I'm adding a nice crisp! You make them too watery!" Gabriel argued back as he tried to get back to the pan, though tall and fit he was still no where compared to his older brother.

You smile at the two O'Hara brother, leaving them to continue their banter while you head to Gabi's room. Checking the time, you thought it was smart for Gabi to wake up. You gently open the door, as you quietly walk in. You look around to see the adorable light blue room, filled with a few soccer balls, dolls, and legos filled with butterflies and soccer balls decorated around the room. You kneel down by her bedside. Your heart on the verge of bursting for how adorable she was.

"Good morning Baby bug. Merry Christmas Eve. It's time to wake up." you gently brush some of her brown curls, the same has her fathers, covering her face. Big brown eyes reveal themselves to you, and a small smile appears on her face.

"Mama!"Getting a boost of energy, Gabi sits up to hug you. Lifting her out of bed, you stop, before grabbing her stuffed bunny know that she would want to have that with her.

"How did you sleep?" You step out of her room.

"Good!" She smiled after yawning as she rested her head in the crook of your neck.

"Oh guess who's here?"

"Santa!" Gabi's head popped up as she looked at you with excitement, which made you chuckle.

"Not Santa, it's too early for him to visit yet. He comes during the night. Tio Gabi is here."

"That's even better!" Gabi cheered which warmed your heart as you kissed the top of her head before making your way into the kitchen.

"Guess who's awake." You say, having the two O'Hara brothers turn to face you and Gabi.

"Good morning princesa." Miguel smiled at the loving sight of you and Gabi. He was about to walk over to lift her into his arms, but was beat to it by his brother. "Aw my mini Gabi! My favorite sobrina. I've missed you." You handed Gabi over to Gabriel as he gives her a big hug.

"Tio Gabi, I'm your only sobrina." Gabi giggled.

"Who knows Gabi, maybe you'll get a littler brother or sister one day." Chuckled Gabriel, which made Gabi eyes brighten up as her mile widens. "Really?! Mama, Papa! Will I?"

Your cheeks turn a bright red, eyes widen. Your embarrassment grew further as you felt Miguel hand on your lower back.

"N-no princesa. Not at the moment. But maybe one day." Miguel looks down at you, trying to figure out what you thought.

"Yes, definitely one day. But not at the moment sweetheart."

"Aw ok."

You felt Miguel give you a love squeeze to your waist, pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss to your cheek, hinting that he liked your answer before making his way to his brother, "now let me get a hug from my daughter."

"Papa!" Gabi smiled as she practically hopped out of Gabriel's arms and into her father's.

After breakfast was finished being made everyone sat together at the dinning table. Miguel helped cut up Gabi's omelette, which you smiled at the sight, wanting to keep this moment as a mental image in your head.

You recalled how the topic of having more kids has been brought up a few times recently. You know with Miguel being in his late thirties, he probably wants to get married and have a few more children. And you know that one day he will want to talk about it seriously with you.

And of course you're not against the idea of getting married and giving Gabi a few brothers or sisters, but you know you want to have your career start off first. But you're not sure if Miguel will want to wait that long. Sometimes you forget the age difference between the both of you. Yeah, there are many couples with big age gapes, some even bigger, but probably when both people were both out of school and had somewhat of a career. Of course you know exactly what you want to do, you just haven't gotten to start it yet. Maybe you should ask Miguel about how you get noticed by Alchamex.

"Mi amor? Y/n?" Miguel called out your name, concern seen in his eyes.

"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts. What were we talking about?" Your cheeks tuned pink, embarrassed from not paying attention to your boyfriend talking to you.

"It's alright, cariño. I was asking if you wanted to go ice skating in Central Park." Miguel chuckled, he thought your slight embarrassment was cute.

"I would love to."

"Then maybe after we could go see Santa at Macys. I heard he's making a quick appearance here in New York before he flies all around the world to give presents." Said Gabriel, which perked Gabi's attention.

"Can we go! Please!"

"Of course, we can!" Said Gabriel. You looked over to Miguel who sighed to himself, only you catching it. You take his hand and give it a small squeeze, to which he smiled.

"Well then let's get all bundle up to go." You say as you stand up.

After getting Gabi ready and let her go hangout with Gabriel in the living room, Miguel joined you in the bedroom. As you pulled the long sleeve sweater over your head, your met with a kiss to your lips. Thought surprised you smile into the kiss before pulling away.

Miguel goes into his walk in closest, getting warmer clothes for outside. You walk and lean on the doorframe of his closet.

"Hey, can I ask a question?"

Miguel looks at you trying to figure out if its series are not. Seeing that it doesn't seem serious he smiles, "Of course." He says as he pulls his shirt off and puts on the new one.

"I need to start looking for jobs and grad schools in Nueva York. I don't know why I feel weird asking you this. Maybe because your my boyfriend, and I'm really acting my

age right now." You nervously chuckle before adding, "And I know you did the grad/internship program at Alchamex, well they asked you to cause you are a certified genius, before going full time there. I was wondering if you knew when they start looking for new grads and interns." You bit your lip, for some reason your nerves were skyrocketing throughout your body. Maybe because you were asking for genius Alchamex Miguel and not your boyfriend.

"Well, first off. You never should have to feel nervous with me. You know I would give you the world if I could. And I remember you were interested in working in my department at Alchamex. I can look at your resume and transcript when we get back, if you'd like?" Miguel smiled as he looped his belt around his pants before buckling it together.

"That would be really sweet of you. I would really like that. Thank you."

"Anything for you, mi amor." Miguel pulled you into his lap, as he sat down on the leather bench, his shoes and socks next to him.

"Hey, I know the topic of children has come up a few times lately." His words began to make your heart race against your chest. "And I-"

"Are you two almost ready to go?" Gabriel yelled from the hallway.

Not ready to have this talk so soon, as your 99.99% sure of what he is goi by to say. You get out of his lap, "yeah, just getting shoes on. Be right there." You say before turning to face to face Miguel, "I'll go check on those two to make sure they aren't getting into any trouble. Specifically Gabriel." You say before walking out of the closest and out of your bedroom.

"Y/n" you heard your name right when you left the bedroom, but you decide to pretend you didn't hear him as you continue your way to the living room.

After getting downstairs and walking over just a block to Central Park from the apartment and adventuring through the beautiful winter scenic view.

You walked by Miguel 's side gloved hand in gloved hand, Gabriel a few steps ahead holding Gabi's hand.

For it being Christmas Eve, you were surprised by the lack of people skating on the ice. Unknown to you Miguel had called ahead and bought for the ice skating to be almost sold out for a few hours today, letting only a few other people to skate, so it didn't look conspicuous.

"Wow, look! It's so pretty!" Gabi said as she jumped up and down in excitement. "Well he there Gabi. Don't worry." Gabriel chuckled as Gabi tried to pull him to move faster.

By the time all four of you made it and got your skates, you sat down on the wooden bench to get yours on. Miguel came over to you, looking even more like a giant as he had his skates on. After you made sure yours were tight, Miguel lent you a hand and helped you up.

You all made it to the ice rink, and despite skating every year during the holidays since you were younger than Gabi you were slightly nervous to get on the ice. But like every year you swallow your nerves and get on the ice, and as soon as you do you feel happy and relaxed.

You get a few feet from the entrance before swiftly turning around as you see Miguel help Gabi on to the ice. Just like you, you could see the  worry in her eyes as Miguel helped her to step on to the ice. Then as he stepped on to the ice behind her, he began to skate over to you, his hand under her arms to help keep her up. The laughter and smiles on both Gabi and Miguel's face made your heart melt from the adorable site. You couldn't resist as you took your phone out of your pocket and took a photo of them, making sure to show it to Miguel later.

"Look Mama! I'm on the ice!"

"I can see that baby bug. You're doing great." You say as Miguel skates her over to you.

"Now Gabi, you can't lock your knees when you skate. Always make sure they are slightly bent. And don't lean back. And it's almost like walking, your feet are just slowly sliding on the ice. Just like when you slide with your furry socks on the hardwood floors. Now Mama is right in front of you. Do you want to try and skate to her?"

"Yeah!" Gabi nods. As she was told she tried to follow her father'a instructions. As soon as she got a foot away from him, you saw her nerves come back as she begin to freeze, before anything could happen you skate the last few feet towards her as you hold both her hands.

"It's ok, baby bug. I got you. But great job on trying. I remember when I was your age, it took me some time on the once before I felt comfortable enough to skate on my own."

"Like Mamita said, you'll get there when you do. But for now you can skate with us." Miguel skilled and skated up next to the both of you as he took her other hand. You and Miguel begin to skate really slow to help Gabi learn how to properly skate, and to gain the confidence to do it on her own.

After skating for a while together, Gabi finally got the confidence to try on her own, of course with you and Miguel right behind her, just in case she fell, which she did.

After a few tears were shed, and a bunch of hugs and kisses were given to make her feel better, plus a hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows made her frown turn back into her beautiful smile.

All four of you decided to take a nice walk through the park.

"Wait! Can I make a snowman?" Asked Gabi as she runs towards the vast amount of snow covering the park.

"Of course!" You say as you follow her into the snowy field. You help Gabi with forming the body of the snowman, however, the little five year old decided to gather up snow into her tiny gloved palms and form a ball.

"Mama, can we throw one at Papa?" Gabi grinned, which made you laugh. "Yes." You mimicked her grin as she passed you the snowball, and made herself another one.

Miguel's back was facing you and Gabi at the moment as he talked to Gabriel. Knowing you wouldn't be able to get close without his crazy good hearing warning you of your presence, you stop just a few feet from him.

"Ok, three, two, one...throw" you whisper yell as both you and Gabi throw the harmless snow at Miguel's back.

Miguel quickly turned around with a surprised face, a smile appearing as he saw both you and Gabi try to hide your laughter. Of course Gabriel couldn't hide his, as he burst out in laughter from his brother's reaction.

"Oh, we want to play like that. Do we know?" Miguel chuckled before he slowly began to walk over to both of you, before jumping into a sprint. You and Gabi ran in the opposite direction, Gabi squealing in delight. Of course you didn't get far before Miguel grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his chest, however you both lost your balance and fell backwards into a large pile of snow, that was luckily there to make the landing soft. Gabi followed right after you by falling on to Miguel as he caught her with the other arm that wasn't around you.

All three of you laughed, as you laid in the pile of snow. "Mis traviesas niñas." Said Miguel before he pulled you both in for a hug.

"Aww, such a cute family! Makes me want to settle and have one." Said Gabriel as he took a photo of the three of you.

"Well maybe you should, so that you'll bother me less." Said Miguel.

"Nah, you would miss me too much."

Gabi got up, followed by you as you lent a hand to   Help Miguel up. But you noticed the mischievous grin on his face a little too late as he pulls you back down into his chest.

"Miguel!" You giggle before they are deal by a kiss.

"Ok, you two love birds. I got a photo for the picture books, now get up. I'm freezing." Said Gabriel after taking a photo of you and Miguel knowing you both would want these sweet moments saved. He handed Miguel's phone back to him which he had stolen to take photos.

After heading back to the apartment, having dinner, and opening the presents Gabriel brought it was time to say goodnight and goodbye.

"I had a great day with all of you. I hope you have a nice Christmas and new years. I'll see you both next year!" Gabriel said as he saluted off before the elevator door closed on him.

You let out a small laugh after you saw Miguel roll his eyes from his brother's words.

You both head to the bedroom to finish wrapping presents from Santa for Gabi.

"Finally done. Now to put them under the tree." Said Miguel as he lays his head on your lap, relaxed by you combing your fingers through his hair.

"There's one more gift left." You grin down at him as he looks up at you confused.

"Where is it?" Miguel sighs softly thinking it's another large present to wrap from Santa.

"It will be here after Santa puts the presents under the tree." You say with hint of lust in your tone before you lean down and kiss him.

"I can't wait to see what it is." Miguel returns the kiss, getting the hint, as he grins and leaves your lap stacking all the presents as he quietly heads to the living room, careful not to wake Gabi.

You quickly get out of your day clothes already wearing it underneath. You had seen the holiday-themed lingerie when you were shopping, and you knew Miguel would love it.

Putting your clothes in the hamper you rushed to the master bathroom, taking your hair out of the low hanging bun, fixing it up a bit. You check yourself in the mirror happy with the final product. You were wearing dark red lingerie, with a bra that tied in to a semi large bow in the front, which once untied reveals your bare chest. To match you wore the same color panties that had a bit of tulle around it, creating a extremely short, really a skirt, skirt. But who cares, it was going to be tossed to the floor in a matter of minutes anyways.

You checked the time on your phone, it's was midnight, officially making it Christmas. When you hear his footsteps coming, you lean against the bed as soon as he opened the door.

When his eyes met yours, they widened before being filled with lust, as he made his way over to you. He grabbed you by the waist as he pulled you against his bare chest.

"Merry Christmas Miggy."

"Merry Christmas in deed, mi hermosa amor." Miguel looks you over, savoring every single detail of you. He too your chin and gently lifted it as he leaned down and kissed you, Persian galore of himself into you. Your core tightened at the feeling of his hard-on against your stomach.

"One more thing. Pull the ribbon." You smiled against his lips. Miguel kissed your lips one more time before doing as you said. In one swift pull, the perfect bow was gone revealing your chest. You could see the lust cloud his eyes more, and in a blink of an eye you were underneath him on the bed, as his lips kiss down from your neck, down to your breasts. "Tan hermosa." His lips latched on to one of your nipples, hitching your breath letting out a moan. His hand swiftly moved your panties to the side inserting a finger into your aching cunt. Another moan escaped your lips.

"Keep singing for me, cariño." Miguel con tied to mark up your breasts as he thrusted a second finger into you, curling his fingers knuckles deep.

"Mhmm please Miguel." You moaned out as you near your breaking point.

"You want to cum mi amor?"

"Yes, please Miggy." You groan as you feel the loss of his fingers. Before you know it, your straddle on top of him, as he slams you down on to his cock.

"Only good girls get to cum, and I thought you said this morning your were naughty. You want to cum? Bounce on my cock until I think you deserve your release." Miguel grinned.

You lightly glare down at him as his grin widens further. However, the need for your release was too much as you begin to move your hips. You rarely fuck in this position, so the feeling of his cock stabbing deeper into you was heavenly. Your clench against him, earning a groan from him.

"Damn baby, your so fucking tight."

At the pace you were going, your hips began to grow tired starting slowly lose your rhythm. However, Miguel being your savior grabbed your hips and began to move you up and down keeping up with your quick and rough pace. You began to feel your core tighten once again.

"Miguel please. Please." You whine out your brain begins to feel foggy only focusing on the feeling of his thick ridged cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Are you a good girl?" Miguel panted from beneath you.

"Y-yes I am. I'm a good girl. Now please Miguel." You whine out.

"Of course, cariño." Miguel chuckled as he flipped you, now in missionary as his pace quickened, pummeling his cock deep inside you as his balls slap against you. His hand lowered to your clit as he began to rub it with the same ferocity as his thrusts. Another moan escaped from your lips, electricity coursing through your entire body. Your eyes roll back as you feel your release.

Miguel continued to slam his cock deep inside you, causing you to feel your overstimulation coming on.

"Fuck, I love this damn pussy. I love you, y/n."

"I love you to Miguel." You breathed out. From your words Miguel let out groan as he released himself deep inside you, now filled full with his warm seed.

After a few more thrusts Miguel pulled out as he lied right next to you. You turned to face him as one of his arms warped around your waist pulling your sweaty naked body against his. He leaned down and captured his lips before saying, " Thank you for the wonderful Christmas present."

You wake up the next morning to Gabi jumping up on you bed, with a wide and happy smile.

"Wake up! It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"

Luckily after your session with Miguel last night you both cleaned up and got into proper pjs before going to sleep, knowing that Gabi would wake up before the both of you and barge into the room.

"Good Morning princesa. How did you sleep?" Miguel said in his deep and rough morning voice as he smile up at his daughter who was jumping for joy on the bed.

"Great! Santa came! He left a bunch of presents! Can we please open them. Please!"

"Alright, Baby bug. We'll get up." You chuckle as you get out of bed and swoop Gabi off her feet to which she giggled. You set her on the ground right next to you.

"Ok, first let's make coffee for me and Papa and then we will open presents."

After getting coffee you and Miguel sit next to each other on the sofa as you watch Gabi open up her many many many presents.

After she opened all of hers she handed you and Miguel one from under the tree.

Miguel opened his which, was a gift Gabi got for him, with you helping her with the funds to get it.

"Aw princesa I love it. I'll use it all the time." Miguel smiled as he held up a coffee tumblr that read, World's Best Papa and Scientist.

"Your turn Mama!"

You smile as you read the name tag, To the love of my life. From your Miggy. You rip off the wrapping paper to see a gorgeous thin red rectangle velvet box with gold stitching. You open the box, as a gasp leaves your lips. Your eyes lock with Miguel's who smiles lovingly at you.

Before you in the box was a simple but gorgeous Cartier gold chain necklace. In the center dangled three beautiful dark red rubies. Your heart melted as the color reminded you of Miguel's eyes. Even though his were brown, you swore in the light they glistened like beautiful dark rubies. You knew you would never take this off, knowing that a part of him was always with you.

"It's beautiful Miguel. I love it." Tears brim the corner of your eyes as you kiss his cheek before giving him a hug. "Can you help me put it on?"

"Of course, mi amor." Miguel smiled bright, happy you loved his gift. You turned your back as you pull your hair to the side as he put the necklace on you. A tiny chill went up your body as you felt the cold necklace lay against your neck. You trim back around as you looked to Gabi with a smile.

"It's beautiful Mama. You look gorgeous!"

"You look stunning." Miguel says.

You enjoyed the rest of the festive holiday cuddle up next to Miguel on the sofa watching holiday movies with Gabi sitting on the ground distracted with playing with her brand new toys.

You couldn't imagine a more perfect Christmas. A Christmas spent with your new family.

The last few days went by in a breeze. When you Miguel and Gabi weren't staying in the comfort of the warm apartment, you adventure out to the various holiday markets around the city, or gaze at the stunning Christmas decorations.

Today was finally December 31st. You and Miguel decided that with the chaos and drama still being thrown at both at you through text messages and voice mails you decide to have it just be you two and Gabi.

You were in the kitchen making dinner, saying you would be happy to make some classic dishes that you've had with your family.

Arms wrapped around your waist, as a smile graced your lips from a kiss placed to your cheek.

"Everything smells very good, cariño."

"Thank you. Do you want to try some?" You say as you held up a spoon with some of the food. He happily took it and smiled. "That tastes amazing."

"Thank you Miggy."

After dinner was served and happily enjoyed by the O'Hara's you all settled on the sofa as you watch the Nueva York New Years commencement.

You look down to see a sleeping Gabi who was sprawled out on your and Miguel's lap.

"I guess it's time she goes to sleep.She's so adorable." You say quietly as you gently brush back some of her curls.

"She is. I'll take her to bed."

"Ok." You smile as you place a goodnight kiss to the top of Gabi's head before Miguel lifted her up and carried her to bed.

After a few minutes Miguel came back as he sat right next to you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around you to pull you against him.

"Did she wake up?"

"Nope still was out like a light. Nothing can wake her up if she's asleep. Reminds me of a very someone." Miguel looks at you as he chuckled.

"What can I say, I love to sleep." You smile as you  rest your head on him as you both continue to watch the tv.

The count down began on the tv as thousands of voices joined together in time square.

10...9...8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2...1!

Happy New year!

You joined in with the voices on the tv as you were standing, excitement etched throughout your body. Miguel pulled you against his chest, a big smile on his face before dipping you slightly and capturing his lips with yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. A few seconds later, your lips parted, lips both slightly swollen. As the New Year's music plays on in the background from the TV all you could pay attention to was Miguel.

"Happy New Year, Miggy."

"Happy New Year, mi amor. I can't wait to see what this year has in store for us." He smiles wide, showing his dimples before leaning down and kissing you again.

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed it!💕

Tag List

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[honestsycrets]

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.”