#miguel o’hara x f!reader

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Infected

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: An accident at one of Alchemax’s labs has led to Miguel being briefly contaminated with cA1m - a prototype drug that is meant to calm animals. However it seems to have a very different effect in humans.

A/N: A massive thank you to @midgardian-witch for reading the beginning of this (catching a hilarious typo), making some excellent suggestions,  and reassuring me that I hadn’t just lost my mind completely (yet).

Reader doesn’t know Miguel’s spiderman.

Warnings: dubious consent - it’s basically a sex pollen fic, blood, hair pulling (can I write a fic without an Oscar Isaac character getting their hair pulled?), so much cum, hand job, oral (both m and f receiving), things get a little rough, face fucking, cum eating, biting, scratching, p in v sex, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 5433

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“It’s mainly preliminary.” You said with a smile. “You weren’t in the room, but the filtration system links four of the labs.” 

You check over Miguel’s notes, so far, he didn’t have any symptoms. 

There had been an ‘accident’ in Lab B2, an accident that was being rapidly looked into. Lab B1, and B4 had been empty, but Miguel had been in B3. 

Miguel was currently in a rapidly repurposed testing room, sitting on the bed with his shirt rolled up his forearms. His specific request for somewhere with reinforced walls, doors and windows had been… unusual. But he was a big guy, couldn’t hurt to be too careful. 

“How are the others doing?” He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“Okay,” you nodded. There had been eight people in Lab B2 when the container had broken. Two people, like Miguel, weren’t showing any symptoms. 

The chemical compound, nicknamed cA1m, while liquid in its storage unit, turned to a gas at above zero degrees. Luckily it also denatured quickly, and there was a good chance that those who still weren’t showing symptoms were unaffected. 

The chemical’s intention was for a more humane way to calm wild animals and livestock during veterinary checks. That way the animal in question didn’t need potentially dangerous anaesthetic for basic to mild level medical care. 

It also wore off in 24 hours. 

However, it still needed some work. And while early tests had gone well, apparently it did not have the desired effect in humans. 

Four of the six infected had gone feral, absolutely crazy with rage, trying to kill and destroy everything and everyone within their reach. 

Luckily no one had been severely injured before they had been tranquilised. 

The other two were different, they had… other urges. 

“Have you found any links as to why Doctor Guerrero and Doctor Vaughan didn’t react like the others?” Miguel asks. His voice was calm and controlled, like it always was. Politely interested, like he was listening to a presentation about your latest control data. 

“Well, I have an idea. Though I haven’t fully proven it yet.” 

He tilted his head to the side in a silent question. The action was endearing, it made your heart flutter and heat rise to your skin. And you hated it so, so much. 

You smiled quickly and looked down, trying to cover the fact you’d been staring at him for a second too long. 

“So,” you continued, drawing the word out a little to give you a pause of breathing room. “Both Guerrero and Vaughan are in relationships, both of them wanted to,” you pause for a moment, trying to find the most professional way to phrase it. “get to their partners. Unlike the others they also had a massively increased level of oxytocin.” 

“Your theory is that that cA1m causes a berserk level of rage unless the subject is in love?” There was the smallest smirk on his lips.

It sounded stupid when he put it like that. 

“Well… yes.” You fold your arms. “Look, Miguel,” he grinned when you said his name and you fought, and lost, the urge to smile back. “I’ve had fourteen hours and six people to base this off, plus three who are showing no symptoms. Give me a break, yeah?” 

He held up his hands playfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You gave me a look.”

“What look?” He teased. 

“I know you want to be trying to figure this out yourself, but you’re the one who insisted on not being allowed any breakable, or expensive, equipment while you’re in here.” 

He smiled. “It’s true.” His gaze was heavy, crushing almost. 

You shook your head and turned to the side table. “Anyway, are you gonna let me draw some blood or what?” 

He nodded and held his arm out to you. 

You know why you had been ‘nominated’ (begged) to be the one to see Miguel. He wasn’t the easiest CEO to work for in the sense that he was both physically and mentally intimidating, but what usually threw most people was that he was quiet, tended to watch and listen. 

And he had a bit of resting bitch face.  

But he was actually pretty pleasant to talk to when you got to know him. 

You brushed your arm against his as you moved to get your equipment. Miguel audibly gasped. 

A flash of worry pinched at your mind, you turned to look at him. “You okay?” 

Miguel nodded; he was staring straight ahead at the wall. Obviously in distress.

“Miguel?” This wasn’t the same as those who had suddenly developed into a full-blown rage, but still you couldn’t help the sense of apprehension that crawled along your skin. You glanced at the sedative on the side table and shook your head.

“Miguel?” You spoke again, a little softer and moved a step closer towards him. 

He shuddered at your voice, screwing his eyes up tightly. Sweat was beading on his forehead, heat rolling off him in waves.

“Miguel, I’m gonna-”

He moved faster than you could comprehend, one second he was sitting on the bed and the next he was looming over you, his hands clenched tightly around your biceps, and forcing you back.

You yelped as he pressed you into the wall, grabbing hold of his forearms. 

His eyes were dark and wild, brimming with a terrifying energy.

“Miguel, wh-”

He crashed his lips into yours, swallowing down your words and slipping his tongue into your mouth frantically. It took you a fragment of a second to react, surprise freezing your limbs solid. 

Miguel took your delay to his advantage, pushing his knee between your legs and pressing close. Not leaving a fraction of space between you as he devoured your mouth. Stealing your breath and igniting heat along your veins. 

“Miguel,” you managed to push him back, the heels of your hands in his chest. This was the cA1m affecting him, it was the only explanation. Maybe the filtration system had diluted the chemical and caused a delayed reaction. “You need to-”

He snarled, his eyes pinpoint focused on you as he leaned forward and kissed you, hard. All tongue and sharp teeth as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and gripped your thigh bruisingly tight, hitching it high on his hip. 

You’d had dreams like this, fantasies, where he pinned you to the wall and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. But you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t take advantage of him like this- 

There was a sharp pinch of pain as Miguel sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You let out a small squeak of surprise, pulling away from him. And raised your hand to your mouth, your fingers coming back red. 

Miguel, however, seemed unphased as he trailed kisses along your neck, smearing your blood along your skin. He ground his hips into yours, rocking back and forth and- oh god, he was big, just like the rest of him. 

“Miguel, you need to,” you swallowed down a whimper as he sucked at your pulse point, just managing to resist the urge to hold him closer, to run your hands through his hair. “It’s the cA1m, you’re not thinking straight.”

He murmured something into your neck, his mouth not leaving your skin far enough for the words to be intelligible. 

“Miguel-” You gasped as he nipped at your throat, not enough to break the skin this time. 

Heat was burning from his skin, scorching into your body like you were too close to a flame. 

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back a fraction too forcefully. You thought the brief pain might snap him out of it, give him a second of clarity. But as his chin tilted upwards, exposing his neck, he let out a long groan, his eyes squeezed shut. 

It went straight to your core, your thighs clenching at the sound. 

“Need you so bad, shit,” he rocked against you harder, pressing his length right up against your centre. “Always need you, you don’t understand,” he moaned and buried his head back into your neck, despite your grip on his hair, and sucked a love bite into your skin.

This time you couldn’t resist the urge. You sunk your fingers deeper, scratching your nails along his scalp and pulled him closer, pushing his face in your neck.

Miguel groaned appreciatively, digging his sharp nails into your shoulders. He nipped just below your ear, the keen, yet sweet little sting of pain blended with the slow and steady roll of his hips was simply tortuous. Almost enough to make you lose all common sense. 

Almost. 

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you just couldn’t do this. 

“Miguel-”

He whined as you said his name. 

And you had to bite your lips together in order to hold onto your fading self respect. 

“On the table,” you swallowed, trying to get your words out quickly, “there’s a sedative. It’ll help, it’ll-”

“You’ll help, being near you helps.” He mumbles, the words barely audible. He snakes his fingers along your ribs, just teasing the hem of your shirt.

“We just need to-oh!”

Miguel grabs hold of your shirt and pulls, ripping it open, buttons pinging off and going flying. Honestly, there’s less resistance from the material than you expected.

And then he's everywhere, his face buried in your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts as his fingers pinch at your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. 

You can't stop the moan of surprise that escapes your lips as you arch into his touch. 

You had to stop this, now. Before he did something you'd very much enjoy and he'd very much regret. 

"Fuck," you hiss under your breath and act quickly, trying not to overthink and get yourself caught up. 

Maybe if he… had some relief you could grab the sedative in the afterglow. Hell, maybe he wouldn't even need the sedative if he came once. 

Before you can lose your nerve you quickly unbuckled his trousers and managed to squeeze your hand under the material despite Miguel's frenzied mind trying to keep the physical space separating you both to a minimum. 

He gasps as you touch him, letting out a choked sob that your brain was already committing to memory and filing under 'for use later'. 

The velvety soft skin was rock hard and burning hot against your hand. So big that you couldn't even get your fingers fully round his girth. 

"Please." He muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands resting tightly on your waist. 

His eyes were screwed shut, his mouth slightly open and when you moved your hand, the smallest upwards movement. He let out the sweetest sigh. 

You bite your lip and wince as you catch the broken skin, but it doesn’t stop you from tracing your thumb over the tip of him, smearing precome along the head. You were trying to be quick, methodical, clinical, as you began to stroke him, setting an even pace. This was just a problem to solve. You should not be enjoying this. 

But every glide of your hand, every touch, made Miguel gasp and moan as if it was the first time he’d ever experienced such sensations, made him bite his lip with his sharp (had they always been that sharp?) teeth, and it was intoxicating. 

He pistoned his hips into your touch, thrusting faster and faster, and practically growling as he grew closer to his release. 

You couldn’t help but watch him, enraptured, as heat pooled in your lower stomach, your own need growing. But this wasn’t about you. 

Still, you couldn’t help yourself rocking back and forth against his leg ever so slightly to just take the edge off. 

Miguel grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head, and there was a sharp pinch of pain as he tightened his grip on your waist, his nails digging in much harder than they surely should have been able to.

He swore under his breath as he cums, twitching under your touch, and coating your hand and stomach with his release. 

There’s so much of it, far more than there should be as he cums and cums, gasping for air. Another side effect of the cA1m - perhaps you’d be annoyed as his release soaks into your ruined shirt if the sight of him reaching his peak wasn’t exhilarating. 

You let go of him quickly, managing to disentangle yourself from him, despite Miguel low, exhausted whine of protest. 

God, how were you going to get a new shirt without running into someone? And, you realised, probably a new pair of trousers too. Miguel’s spend had run down and soaked into the left side. 

You grabbed the sedative from the side table. Your mind already racing, it wasn’t Miguel’s fault but would he remember? Would he be awkward with you now? Would your little chats and jokes stop? You swallowed down a pang of fear and turned. Now wasn’t the time for what ifs you-

Miguel grabbed your arms and you squeaked in surprise. How could he move so silently? His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, his trousers just hanging from his hips and… well, obviously so much for the idea that him cumming once would be enough. 

“I need you.” He growled, his voice so low that you almost felt light headed. “I know you want me too, I can smell it.” He leaned forward scraping his teeth over your pulse point, and for a shameful moment you let yourself get caught up again, allowed yourself to revel in the sensation for the smallest second. 

While he was distracted you pushed the needle into his upper arm, through his shirt, and injected the sedative. 

It shouldn't take long. 

He growled, pulling his mouth away from your neck to stare dangerously into your eyes. 

You swallowed. A spike of fear dug into the base of your skull, some ancient urge telling you to run. 

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, unsure if you were really talking to Miguel or yourself. “It’s just the sedative.” You pulled the needle out of his arm. “You’ll be fine, let’s lay you down so-”

He kissed you hungrily, harsh and demanding as he forced his tongue into your mouth. 

You allowed yourself to kiss him back the smallest amount as you waited for the sedative to work. 

And waited… And waited…

Oh, no, just no, this wasn’t right, this couldn’t be right. There was more than enough in the injection to knock him out and yet he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. 

Okay, so, this definitely wasn’t how it went with the others. 

You side step, trying to twist past him and break his hold all in one movement. Maybe you could get to the door, maybe you could do… something. Your mind raced, there had to be a way to fix this, to help him, to be useful. 

The side step didn’t work, Miguel’s grip was too tight, and you stumbled, skidding around and to your knees. The edge of the bed thumped into your back. 

You gasp, gulp and stare up at him. That spike of fear dragging itself down your spine. 

He growls and moves closer, his length bobbing and perfectly at your eye level. His gaze is dark and desperate, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. You could see his pulse thundering in his neck, echoing along the length of his dick. 

Rapid heartbeat was one of the side effects all the others had experienced, the sedative being the only thing that had managed to return it to a normaler level. 

Maybe there was only one way you could be useful. 

Miguel shifts his weight, preparing to move, but you lean forward first and run your tongue along the length of him. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as you touch him, a gasp of breath. The sound floods heat to your core. 

You wrap your lips around the tip, grabbing hold of his hips to pull him closer as you swallow as much of him as you can. You bob your head, encouraging him to move with you and there is a moment where you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain in his thighs as he tries to hold back, to keep himself in check. 

It doesn’t last long. 

He snarls and thrusts forward, snapping his hips and nearly choking you. You splutter, trying to breathe through your nose but Miguel doesn’t give you a second to recover. He pushes forward, the back of your head slamming against the edge of the bed as he plunges deeper and deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease and still not even half way in. 

Your grip on his hips tightens and you don’t know if you’re trying to pull him away or urging him on. 

It burns, the size of him makes your jaw ache, tears roll down the sides of your cheeks from the force of his relentless thrusts. 

His hands dig into the mattress by the side of you head, tearing into the fabric as he pounds into you, fucking your mouth with everything he’s got. 

He groans, “yes, baby, yes,” his voice low and barely distinguishable as words. 

You do your best to just hold on, to breathe and take as much as you can. The sounds of his moans filling your ears and mind, and god, how you wished you didn’t have a gag reflex and could take him deeper. 

He keeps ramming into your mouth, snapping his hips against you with a frenzied energy and you push against his lower back, silently begging him to keep going. 

Your neck throbs from discomfort, bruising forming where the skin is repeatedly hitting against the hard outline of the bed frame. Your knees burn from where they continuously rub against the floor with every buck and thrust. 

Miguel lets out a short, animalistic cry as he cums down your throat suddenly. You moan against him, trying to swallow all of it but there’s just so, so much. It spills out of the side of your mouth and down your chin despite your best efforts.

He leans forward, breathing hard, his cock still in your mouth. And for a second you think this is it, the sedative will take hold or maybe this mindless lust has come to an end. 

But he’s still hard when he pulls himself out of your mouth, his eyes still glazed over with the same madness when he looks down at you. He runs his hand over your chin, the pads of his fingers slightly sharp, and collects some of his spend that hasn’t trickled down your neck and onto your torn shirt and bra. Another item of clothing you’d need to change. 

He smears his cum along your cheek, the movement possessive, like he was marking his territory. 

There’s a pause, the lull in the eye of the storm before he pulls you up from the ground with a shocking display of strength, moving as if you were no heavier than a glass of water he was eager to drink down. 

You can’t help the little yelp of surprise that escapes you as he practically throws you onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress and momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs.

But then he’s on top of you, pressing himself firmly between your legs as he growls and snaps his teeth close to your neck. He bites at your throat, hard enough to break the skin and you cry out as the pain quickly disappears into pleasure. 

Your mewls only make his actions more frenzied as he tears your clothes completely off you with a speed that makes your head spin, before removing his own. The material rips so easily, as if he used a blade. 

He runs his tongue along your chest, messily cleaning up the cum he’d spilt along you just moments before. 

“Miguel-” You try to start, but then his mouth is back on yours, tasting like salt and iron as he drinks down your words to leave you breathless. 

You gasp as he breaks away, trailing sloppy kisses down your body, his fingers running over your skin and leaving scratches. He bites your hip partially deeply and you keen, arching up into him as he moans. 

“Your so fucking sweet.” He mutters before kissing lower and lower and, oh god. You nearly scream as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard. Pleasure coils tight in your belly as a new wave of wetness leaks out and soaks into the torn up sheets beneath you. 

His fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes his face into you, only breaking away so that he can lick through your folds hungrily, devouring you like a starving animal. 

“Miguel!” You whine, letting out a series of high pitch moans that sound alien even to your own ears. 

He sucks your clit once more, his teeth just grazing across it before he snarls and pulls away, pushing the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest with a crushing strength. 

You struggle to take a breath, barely filling your lungs before he’s thrusting into you with a guttural groan and a sharp snap of his hips. 

The size of him hurts, it’s too much, too fast and you gasp in pain. You clench your jaw, your eyes screwing up as your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to push him back even though you know it’s no use against his strength. 

But he stops instantly, stilling his movements. 

You stare up at him in surprise. His eyes are still dark but there’s something else there, something pushing through that lust haze. 

“Pain?” He whispers, sounding the most like his old self that he has since this ordeal began.

You swallow and nod, tears building at the corners of your eyes. 

He slowly loosens his grip around your thighs, letting go shakily as if it is taking a lot of self control to do so. And while he doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t thrust in deeper either. 

Carefully, he manoeuvres your legs down onto the bed either side of him, watching your face for any sign of increased discomfort. It’s only then that he looks down to where you’re joined, completely split open with only a quarter of his length inside. 

He groans lows and you brace yourself for a brutal thrust that never comes. Instead he keeps his hips still as he slowly trails his sharp nails down your stomach, teasing the very edge of your clit before pressing his thumb against it fully. 

A small moan escapes you and you clench down instinctively. Miguel hums in approval and starts to slowly circle the bundle of nerves, the touch light and soft as he just borders on the edge of losing control. 

The pain starts to dissipate quickly, replaced with a steady continuous build of that deep need from before. You start to squirm. The pressure of his thumb isn’t enough and you rock your hips ever so slightly, your breathing hitching in your throat. 

"More?" He whispers.

You nod your head rapidly. 

“Thank god.” Miguel sighs, the words mumbled like a prayer almost too quietly for you to hear, and lets some of his weakening control slip. 

Slowly he pushes further in, the tension shaking in his thighs as he fights with every instinct to pound you into the mattress and turn you into a crying mess beneath him. 

He keeps circling your clit, groaning as feels a fresh wave of wetness leaking out of you. 

You moan, grabbing hold of his shoulders. But this time you pull him towards you, urging him deeper. God, he’s big. Already it’s like you can feel him in your throat. 

The stretch burns, but it’s good, it feels right. Like he is going to reach a whole new devastating part of you. Make you cum so hard that he’ll ruin any other sexual partner for good.

You hook your left leg on his hip and squeeze your calf over his lower back, encouraging him closer, deeper. While you plant your right foot firmly against the bed to rock up against him. 

Miguel groans, his eyes closed. His movements on your clit falter as he slides further in. 

There’s a sharp pain in your hip where his left hand holds you tight,  his nails (it had to be his nails) dug in so deep that they broke your skin. 

You let out a soft whine, clenching around his girth as he presses up against you perfectly and still pushes further in. The pleasure in your stomach tightening and starting to completely overwhelm all other thoughts, urging you to just chase your release. 

Tears prick again at the corners of your eyes, a soft emotion beating hard in your chest. And you can’t help yourself, you grab hold of the back of Miguel’s neck, pulling him down towards you and arching up at the same time to kiss him hungrily. 

He moans into your mouth, pushing back against you and forcing you into the mattress. His hips snap forward, finally sheathing himself completely in your tight, wet heat. 

For a moment it’s like you can’t breathe, so completely full that not even air can enter. 

Miguel stills, giving you a moment to adjust as he licks into your mouth and groans as your walls squeeze around his length. His pubis bone presses firmly against your clit, and you can feel the echo of his racing heart beat along his skin. 

He breaks the kiss to breathe hard, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t… I need to…”

“Please,” you answer desperately, kissing him softly as you start to rock your hips ever so slightly. 

Miguel lets out a whine, his eyebrows pinched together in bliss and the expression alone is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. 

“Can’t stop,” he mutters and you're not even sure if he’s aware of what he’s saying anymore as he grabs your wrists in either of his hands and pins them to the bed. “Feels so…” He ruts into you, pulling out so that just the tip of his cock stays inside before slamming back into you. “Fuck. So. Fucking. Tight.”

You wail under him as pleasure runs up your spine and down your legs as he punctuates every thrust with an upwards rock of his hips, continuously rubbing against your clit and pressing the head of his length to that perfect spot inside. 

“So. Fucking. Wet.” He growls. His nails are slicing into your wrists, but you don’t care. Can’t care, you’ve lost all ability to feel anything but the glide of his cock and the heady build of your orgasm. 

“So. Mine.” He growls and bites down hard on your neck. You cry out, the brutal pace of his hips only increasing, bringing you closer and closer and-

You gasp, his name catching in your throat as you finally cum. Every muscle shaking as it crashes over you in waves. 

Miguel tears his mouth away from your neck, blood shining on his lips as he watches you come undone. He moans, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 

“That’s it, cum all over me,” he glances down for a moment watching himself disappearing into you, amazed at how well you’re taking him, how tightly your walls are griping him, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Squeezing me so tight, oh shit-” 

He cums loudly, still pistoning in and out of you as he fills you up with his release. There’s still so much of it, some leaks out, spilling out of your abused hole and sticking to your thighs. 

You breathe deeply, your mind foggy from how hard you came. Your legs ache from being stretched so wide, your pussy throbs from overstimulation. 

Miguel doesn’t stop, still rock hard and trusting. Pushing his cum deeper into you. 

“Miguel,” you whine, your throat raw. 

“I can’t-” he bites his lip, “I can’t stop, I need to, fuck, please, I need to-”

You kiss his neck, biting harder than you normally would at his jugular. He whines, the sound going straight to your core. Heat starts to build again.

“Keep going,” you mutter against his skin. “Keep going as long as you need to.” 

.

You wake up sore and sticky. Aching and in pain. Even the slightest movement brings out an array of discomfort. Every muscle throbs, like you had done a year's worth of exercise in one day, and all the bites and scratches sting as you shift, the scrapes making you feel like someone had tossed you naked into a bush of brambles and thorns. 

It takes you a moment to remember where you are, the tiredness in your bones trying to coax you back to sleep. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Miguel’s voice makes you jump. He’s still close to you, laying on his side with his chest pressed up against your back. One arm around your waist. There’s tension there, you know he wants to move away but is scared to move at the same time. 

His cock is pressed against your backside, soft and sated. 

You turn to look at him, too tired to worry about your nakedness. Besides, he had seen plenty of it anyway.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

He scoffs. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks down. 

It’s only then as you turn around completely to look at him that you see tears in his eyes. “Miguel?” 

You softly touch his cheek but he flinches away from you. The action spikes through your heart. He can’t even look at you now. 

“I’ve got everything to be sorry for, I, I took advantage of you, I rap-”

“No, no, no, no,” you can’t help but touch him again, putting your hand back on his cheek and rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin. 

This time he leans into it, letting out the smallest, shaky breath. 

“You were infected, Miguel, you couldn’t control yourself. I don’t know how much you remember but the sedative didn’t work, and your heart rate was just, I mean, it was crazy high. And, if anything, I was the one that took advantage of you and-”

His eyes snap open. “You? You took advantage of me?” He says disbelievingly. “Look at you.” He touches the bite marks on your neck gently. 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t mind.”

He breathes out another shaky breath, but there’s a hint of a smile. “You don’t mind?” 

You shake your head. “Happy to help.” 

He chuckles a little at that and nods as he runs a hand through his hair. 

There’s a pause, a silence that you can’t stand. 

“I guess I was wrong.”

Miguel frowns a little, confused. 

“My theory, about people having that reaction if they’re in love, I mean.” 

There’s a pause, the only sound a little gulp as Miguel swallows. Something passes over his face for a second, a faint trace of heat rising to his skin.

Oh. Maybe you weren’t wrong. 

“Miguel?”

He breathes deeply, looking down. “I-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, letting your adrenaline overwhelm you as you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. Hoping against hope that you weren’t misreading the situation. 

He’s caught by surprise for a moment, but moans happily and softly kisses you back as his arm wraps around you and pulls you close. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, languid and sweet. It makes your stomach drop like you were falling from a great height. His embrace the only thing keeping you safe. 

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip lightly, careful of the cuts, but licks into your mouth hungrily the second you part your lips. It’s not the same lustful need from before, this is deeper, sharper and desperate in a different way. As if after devouring your body he now needed to devour your soul. 

He kisses you again, lightly before you both pull back for a second. He grins at you, a little shyly and you smile as you stroke his cheek.  

“You weren’t wrong.” He muttered. 

You frown and shake your head, confused. 

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Your theory about love.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @solobagginses @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes

[lethalchiralium]

Glass Houses | Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

a/n: look, i’m not ignoring anything (i am) i just couldn’t get this out of my head haha

warnings: fluff and angst 🫶

summary: It’s finally time for Gabi’s quinceañera, something Miguel had finally allowed her to have.

MASTERLIST

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi was having the best night of her young life.

Picture after picture, her pearly white smile was as bright as daylight. Her friends surrounded her, her uncles and aunts from both parents celebrated her quinceañera. It was the night she had been looking forward to, the night she had been begging you and her father for.

“Gabi,” He shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel was tight. “I told you we’ll think about it.”

“Papa, every girl I know gets a quince-“

“Gabi, lo digo en serio-“ Your hand settled on Miguel’s thigh gently, he took in a breath, growing frustrated with traffic and with himself. He spared a glance to you, your eyes on the road, but that still didn’t stop you from looking to him. “Mi vida, help me here.”

Your fingertips tapped his thigh, you turned to look over your shoulder at your darling daughter, still wiping off mud from that day’s practice. You glanced to Miguel as his hand slid down to settle on top of yours, fingers curled around your palm. Your husband has always trusted your judgement.

You squeezed his thigh before you responded, “Baby, Papa’s already doing so much for us. You need to give him time to get it worked out, it’s not a yes or no until he says so.”

The fourteen year old’s expression dropped, her body slumped into her seat. You frowned. “Why does he get to pick all of the sudden? You always set the rules, Mama-“

“Cuida tu tono con tu madre, Gabi.” His tone was calm, you could feel the bite of his words and watch how Gabi looked out the window in response. You deflated a little, you didn’t want to tell your perfect daughter that what little money you and Miguel had was running out. “Siempre escuchamos a mamá.” You squeezed Miguel’s thigh again, your eyes moved to gaze at the side profile you had memorized years ago.

“Mama, por favor,” You looked back to Gabi, your heart strings were tugged hard when you looked at her saddened expression.

A sigh escaped you before you turned forwards, the traffic now flowing much better. “Papa and I will talk about it.”

You watched your baby and her friends, all of them chatting away and laughing like hyenas. She was gorgeous, she looked truly happy; she spared a glance towards you, her smile so contagious that it made yours even wider. She was the spitting image of her father, just without the fangs. She waved a little, you waved back.

“We don’t have the money for it.” You whispered, arms tucked in between you and Miguel’s chest, fingertips gently tapping on his warm skin just below his collarbone. Your eyes could only watch your red fingernails as they drummed an unfamiliar melody into your husband’s skin.

He was watching you, it wasn’t hard for you to tell. His hand settled on your hip, the arm around your back gently stroked your shoulder blades with light fingertips.

“I’ll pick up more hours at Alchemax.”

“The mortgage is too much, Mig. I can get my job back-“

“No. Your back is still injured from the accident.” The car accident you had three months ago, where you were slammed into and your car thrown off the bridge by the momentum, only to be saved by Spider-Man. It was terrifying, he took you right down to the hospital without a word before he left you on a gurney; your husband appeared only moments later as the medical team took you inside, his breathing panicked as he took your hand, he was terrified. That look was one you could never get out of your head, even as you stared at his rising chest. “It will only be for a couple of months. It’s important for Gabi.”

“It’s important for Gabi.” You echoed, your nail caught on the small silver chain around his neck, the small locket glimmered in the low light.

Miguel is a generous man, and a man who truly adored his daughter.

Your daughter pranced over to your table, her smile much larger than you had even seen her make. You held out your hands, she instantly took them. “Mi niña, is it okay? Are you having fun?”

“It’s perfect, Mama.” Her arms were around your neck in an instant, a kiss from her on your head made your smile rival hers. She moved away, her pretty curls bouncing as her friends welcomed her back with huge smiles and infectious laughter.

You looked over to Miguel’s empty seat, heart sinking into your stomach. Being Spider-Man has made him lose so much important time with his family, but you understood why he put on the suit. You understood why when he told you that rainy night, you finally understood that you weren’t just a lucky survivor of small villain incident, he was always watching over you - even when he couldn’t be here for Gabi’s quinceañera.

You took a drink of your wine, hoping to put a damper on your growing sadness. You watched her Uncle Gabriel help take the beautiful white chair out to the middle of the dance floor, soft rose colored balloons tied to it and beautiful pink flowers wrapped around the back. Gabi was so excited, her gaze went back to you as she mouthed, “Love you.”

You blew her a kiss as the dance floor cleared, allowing her to sit down in the chair with her beautiful dress - her beautiful face bright with a smile. Your grip on your wine glass loosened as her Uncle Gabriel started the Changing of the Shoes ceremony - your own eyes felt pricks of pain as you fought back tears. You were only twenty feet away, your phone now in your hand was you took the video of the ceremony. She was laughing, happy - her flats being removed and replaced with the rose gold heels she had begged Miguel to buy months prior, but he had refused. And here they were, now placed on your daughter’s feet as her transition into becoming a young woman.

Tears of joy feel from your eyes as she stood, her smile still so large and the chair taken away. The song changed, your smile faltered.

“Gabi,” Miguel called. Your hand held his, his thumb gently raked over your index finger. He had spent many long nights, saving what money he could and taking odd jobs, all in between his duty as Spider-Man. His heart was warm, he had asked many favors with promises of repayment to set up his wonderful daughter’s quinceañera - more money than he wanted to pay, if at all, but he loved his child eternally. This was her one big wish for years, he had always said no since money was an issue. Even as a highly paid geneticist, his money was being drained by hospital bills, his mortgage, and his ailment of constantly needing venom to stay alive. But, giving her this meant she was growing up, and he was finally ready to help her out of her flats and into those high heels he knew were her favorite, then waltz around a big dance floor with his little girl who would be happier than ever.

She bounded down the staircase, hair a mess from practice as she tore off her headband, she smiled, “¿Qué pasa?” She was quick to sit on the floor in front of the couch, where you and Miguel were comfortably sitting. Your smile has always been gorgeous to Miguel, but in that moment, your smile infected him like a virus. You were so excited to see Gabi grow up, so excited to give her what she wanted.

Gabi was sobbing by the time Miguel had told her about the party, she hugged him so tight before kissing his cheek, then diving into you. You wrapped your arms around her with that beautiful smile on your face, moving your daughter back and forth with excitement.

That moment was a direct contrast to what he had confessed to you in private later that night, after he had finally found the courage to tell you his deepest secret. The look of horror on your face made Miguel’s stomach drop, the tears made him nauseous.

“You’re Spider-Man?”

He nodded for the second time, hand still holding yours. You didn’t remove it, your free hand came to cover your mouth.

“I wanted you to know. The ‘odd jobs’ I’ve been doing have been me being Spider-Man, people give me money to keep it up.” He whispered, terror in his heart as you just… stared.

“What will happen if I lose you?”

Miguel could only smile, his free hand came up to your cheek, resting upon it as he whispered, “Nunca me perderás, querida.”

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi stood in the middle of the dance floor, ready for her last dance of the night before her 15 Candle Ceremony. It was her father’s idea to have the dance near the end of the ceremony, he was never one to want too much attention. The girl stood in the middle of the floor, eyes watching her father’s smile come closer and closer to her.

The crystal-like tears hit her beautiful dress, her manicured hands grasped onto the dark mahogany of the frame that displayed the photo of her smiling deceased father, Miguel O’Hara.

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[hoedamn-eron]

what he didn't do

Being Miguel O’Hara’s partner was exhausting.

Warnings: Angsty. Not a happy ending. Edited on phone so prone to mistakes. Word count: 2,441 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Inspired by What He Didn't Do, by Carly Pearce. Sorry this is also late, I was supposed to post it yesterday.

Your relationship with Miguel O’Hara was…stagnant. Unaffectionate. One-sided.

But it never used to be. You both used to be head over heels in love, almost sickly so. Everyone would say that you were ‘good for each other’, that you were both what ‘everyone wanted to be’, and you would always shy away from the compliments, but you knew they were right. You and Miguel were soulmates, and you couldn’t help but feel a little smug when your friends gushed over you both.

He used to show up at your office, randomly, with flowers or a new outfit, claiming you would be going on a date after work. He’d take you away on spontaneous romantic trips, and you would be all over each other when you were together. How could you not be? He was gorgeous, and a wonderful man. You knew this was the man you wanted to settle down with and marry.

But now he was distant, and ignorant, and you barely spent time together. You didn’t know what changed.

You grimace to yourself. That was a lie, you did know what changed. He became obsessed with keeping the canon events rolling, so much so that you hadn’t really seen him in months. You don’t even remember the last time you kissed. All he did was spend his days sat by that screen, watching old memories of him and his daughter. You felt for him, truly, but he was so obsessed with the past, that his future was fading from him, and fast.

The last straw for you was when he missed your anniversary. You waited for him for two hours, in your apartment, where he said he’d pick you up after work. Your calls got ignored, and you eventually stopped leaving a voicemail every time. When you saw him the next day, coming home to your shared apartment late and in a blatant bad mood, obviously having no idea what he’d done the night before, you mentally checked out of the relationship.

You moved out of the apartment in Nueva York slowly, not that he’d notice, since he was never there anyway. You managed to wrangle the help of Peter every now and then, for the bigger pieces of furniture. After a month and a half, you were gone. You took your name off the lease and emailed a copy of it to Miguel. If he didn’t think so before, he definitely knew now that you were done.

But he didn’t…do anything. It was as if you were strangers. He didn’t approach you, didn’t come and beg you to take him back. He didn’t apologise, didn’t make it up to you. You gave this man years of your life, which now, you realised, obviously meant more to you than they did him. After this devastating conclusion, you tried to avoid Miguel as much as you physically could. Despite how pissed off you had been and how you had already mourned the relationship, it still hurt to see him, or even talk about him.

However, you worked within the Spider Society as a general PA. It was tough to get through this particularly tough period of your life when your friends kept talking about him.

“He’s more pissed off than he usually is,” said Jess as you meet up with her and Peter for your weekly lunch date at your local Spider King.

You choose not to answer her as you eat your fries.

“He isn’t getting laid anymore,” joked Peter before giving you a wince. “Sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s whatever. He wasn’t getting laid anyway, at least not from me.”

“Is that why you broke up?” Jess asked. “Did he cheat on you? I’ll kill him for you, if he did.”

“No, he didn’t,” you say quickly (you don’t want any rumours floating around) before you shrug.

“So what did he do?” Jess asked.

The question through you for a loop, and you frowned, thinking about it.

It wasn’t what he did, really. It was what he didn’t do.

He didn’t put you first. It was always about the canon events, how they had to keep ticking over. Despite there being thousands of Spider People, Miguel seemed to always have to be the one to fix it. He couldn’t just be with you, at home, just because he wanted to be at home, where you would have planned a movie night, or arranged a date night for you both. He didn’t fight for you when he found out you had left, he didn’t hold on to you for dear life, that you were worth something; he just seemed to accept the fact that you were gone.

But you won’t tell anyone that. You won’t tell them the Hell that Miguel had put you through, that you’ll leave people to guess about what happened. So you shrug at Jess’s question. “We just...fizzled out.”

It wasn’t technically a lie.

“That’s a shame,” Jess said. “I thought you guys would be end game. I was sure you were both going to get married.”

You snort an unamused laugh. “Me too.”

Your tone indicated that you didn’t want to carry on the conversation, and Peter, bless his soul, changed the subject to Mayday’s new daycare, since MJ decided she needed to socialise with ‘regular people’. She’d apparently found it hard to fit in. After lunch you give your friends a goodbye before you make your way back to your office. You try to keep your head down these days, since you want to avoid conversations like you just had with your friends (and honestly, you still couldn’t bear to bump into Miguel). You usually had no problem avoiding anyone but today, someone, somewhere, just wanted to see you suffer.

He was stood, outside your office, looking as gorgeous as he always does. For once, he wasn’t in his Spider Suit, just a pair of sweatpants and a too tight white t-shirt, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking down at the floor with that frown on his face, then one where he was deep in thought. Back in the day, you would have jokingly ‘smoothed’ out the lines in his forehead before giving him a kiss, telling him he needed to come out of his own head. You push the feeling of familiarity away before clearing your throat, pulling out your keys to unlock your office. “Can I help you, Miguel?”

“We need to talk,” he replied, his face as stony as always.

“What about?” you ask as you open your office door, walking through, still not looking at him. You felt sick. You weren’t expecting this today. You thought he had moved on, since he hadn’t spoken to you since you moved out over a month ago.

Miguel strides into your office and closes the door. “You know what about.”

You pause minutely before taking a deep breath and sighing through your nose. “Right. Okay.”

You take a seat at your desk, finally looking at him as he sat opposite you. He looked tired; or more tired than usual. Those dark circles that were now a permanent feature on his face were darker than when you last saw him. You wanted to tell him he had to take it easy, to start looking after himself, but that wasn’t your job. He wasn’t yours to worry about anymore.

You cross your arms and lean them on your desk, trying to come across as nonchalant, but you probably looked uncomfortable. “You wanna talk about the break-up?”

“Yes,” Miguel said. You both stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Miguel breaks it with a, “You broke up with me.”

You’re study him for a minute before you nod. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“If you have to ask, then it was the right decision.”

He gives you an incredulous look. He was always more emotive with you. “I know that I was working more - “

You couldn’t help it. You let out a snort of a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s an understatement. By the time I moved out, I hadn’t seen you in person for at least a week. And I was taking my stuff slowly for a month before. You didn’t notice.”

“I have to keep the canon events going, I can’t...I can’t not,” he says, sounding fed up; drained. “And coming home to you was the only thing that kept me going.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?” he asks, his tone slightly harsh.

“Saying that I was the only thing that kept you going, like I was everything to you,” you say.

“You were - “

“Do you know how many times I caught you staring at your screen of old memories of you and Gabriella?” you asked. “How I waited for you every night for you to not come home? How you forgot important dates, like our anniversary?”

He cringes at that.

You look at him with an almost desperate look on your face. “I know that Gabriella was an important part of your life. I understand how you’re hurting, and you blame yourself for what happened, but you cannot let it overtake your life, Migs. You’re letting your past affect your present, your future, and look what’s happening.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just let universes collapse?”

“No, Miguel, I’m not – “ you sigh, closing your eyes as you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “I know that you need to keep the canon going. I understand that it’s your job, but…it’s not your only thing to worry about.”

You open your eyes and his expression breaks your heart, especially after a few moments he whispers out, “I’m sorry.”

The room falls silent again. Your heart skips a beat like it normally does when you find yourself staring at him; he was so good looking, and rough around the edges, his soul calloused and scarred from years of hard work and demanding tasks, and the battles he's fought but you know he’s not as tough as he seems. He’s a real softy, really. You knew from when he used to be with you more, earlier in your relationship, when he would come home after a rough day and practically whine to be in your arms, his face snuggled in your chest.

Or when he would come up behind you when you were cooking in your kitchen, and he would wrap his arms around you. He towered over you, so he practically enveloped you every time he did it. And he’d always slowly sway you, even though there wouldn’t be any music. You’d always end up having a slow dance break from cooking, and you’d always end up giggling before telling him to go wash his hands because dinner would almost be ready.

And he was soft in the way that he used to whisper to you how much he loved you, how he was so happy to have found you, that he felt whole to have you, that he truly felt at home when you were around. He used to give you this smile, that you never saw around everyone else, but only when you were alone; it was a reverence that showcased the depths of his affection for you, that he trusted you, that he was safe with you, and you with him. You found solace with each other.

But that was gone now.

“All I wanted was to be put first,” you whisper, your eyes swimming in tears you hadn’t realised were there. “Just once in a while.”

“I can work on that,” Miguel says quickly. “I can…I can take a few less jobs, I can be at home more – “

“Migs,” you say, already shaking your head, a few tears slowly falling.

“Please, mi amor,” Miguel whispers, reaching over your desk to hold your hands tightly. Your chest tightens at the familiar nickname you hadn’t heard in so long. “Please, come home. I’ll get better, I’ll be better. I’ve been miserable without you.”

You want to make a quip about how he’s miserable most of the time anyway, but you hold back the comment. It would be spiteful, and you had moved on from being angry, and upset, and you were far from being spiteful. “I can’t, Miguel.”

“Please, mi amor,” he says again, his hands squeezing yours just a little tighter.

You don’t know what to do. This was the most you’d spoken to him in weeks…probably months, and he was begging you to come back to him. You were so torn. What if you take him back and he goes back to his old ways again, down the line? Would you be willing to give up more years of your life for Miguel O’Hara for him to throw them in your face again?

You’re ready to tell him no, to tell him to never contact you again, but you remember your relationship before. Now that he’d seen what his actions had done, would he put in the effort? Would he be willing to work on himself, to work on your relationship? You know that you couldn’t go back to the way things used to be, your trust in him has dwindled to almost nothing. And you were alone, picking up the pieces of your broken heart and he hadn’t even realised until you were long gone.

“I can’t,” you finally say, removing your hands from his. You swiftly wipe at the tears on your face, averting your eyes from his. “I can’t…put myself through that again.”

You can see his chest rising and falling just a little more heavier than before, and you knew you couldn’t look at him. If you looked at him, you would cave, and you’d be back to square one.

After a few moments, Miguel answers. “Okay.” He stands, and you still can’t look at him. You hear him walk away from you, reaching your door but he pauses. “I’m sorry, again. For everything. And for bothering you today.”

He quickly opens your door and stalks out, and you wince as he closes it with a slam. You feel your shoulders go slack, unaware that you were so wound up in the first place. You let yourself sit alone, silently crying for the end of your relationship with Miguel, romantic and otherwise. Maybe with some space and time, you could look into being friends again, but for now, you will close this chapter of your life and think back on your relationship with Miguel as a hard learning curve.

In the end, you’ll be okay. You always are.

[o4i0n]

do u guys think miguel gets hard if ur nice to him ., miguel nation what do we think 

reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !

it’s not like you being nice is anything out of the ordinary—if anything, it’s one of the things that comes the most naturally to you and what others notice whenever they catch you around. your care comes in the form of small, gentle reminders, shared smiles when your eyes meet another’s, or asking how things are when you pass by someone else to make simple conversation. nothing special, really, but it’s sweet. 

miguel o’hara thinks that it’s too sweet, but it’s more of a ‘him’ problem, if anything. he’s not even supposed to be this worked up over something as careless as your hand brushing against his shoulder to let him know that you’re there for him that’s coupled with a chipper ‘bye!’ thrown his way before you turn around and leave, but he is. every time you leave him be, the throbbing ache that settles between his legs grows a lot heavier, and he knows that if he deals with it, it would just make things worse. 

it’s not like he has any plans to stop, though. he may be growing tired of the countless times he’s caught himself thinking about you, the image of your pretty self occupying his mind so much that he swears he sees you even when he closes his eyes, but the scenarios that he’s so keen on turning into a reality make the job a whole lot easier. there may be a twinge of guilt that crosses his mind after he spills into his hand once he’s done fucking himself raw into his fist, but he tries not to thinking about it too much. even when you’re not there, you’re still assisting him in some way. 

which is why he thinks that the universe is playing one massive, fucked-up prank on him when you chose the worst time to drop by his office—that dark, secluded area away from everyone else that he considers an office, anyway—and get greeted with the sight of him biting down on his fist while he furiously ruts into his hand in an attempt to get off. the need that emanates off his body is palpable; no matter how fast he’s stroking himself or how desperately he’s letting his fingers swipe over his leaking tip as pre-come trickles down the remainder of his length, he still can’t come. right now, the sounds that he’s making have more emotion than in any of the words he’s spoken to you, or to anyone, for that matter. it doesn’t make it easier that he’s suddenly terrified of how you’d treat him after seeing that spectacle of pure desperation on his part once he notices you’re there. 

but you, being you, are nothing short of understanding. when miguel asks you to leave (well, he kind of shouts at you because you were never supposed to see anything like that), you’re so caught up by what you saw that you stupidly offer to help him out, your voice and demeanor taking on your trademark shyness. 

miguel is many things, and you know him to be an incredibly efficient man. everything that follows is a blur, and you end up sprawled out on his desk, your clothes haphazardly tugged out of the way so that he could take up up on your offer. 

“you’re too fuckin’ nice,” he whines, wasting no time to peel away your panties and drag his fingers over your entrance. it almost sounds like he’s complaining at the fact that you are the way you are, but he doesn’t say anything. as his fingers curiously prod at your pussy to spread you nicely for him, his free hand is wrapped around his cock, dripping with his own arousal as it lays heavy in his fingers. 

a soft whimper slips out of your lips as he toys with your body, and it’s only sinking in now that you’re not sure if you can take all of him. but he needs help, right? he needs to feel better, so you keep your legs apart for him while he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit. 

when he hears that, it takes all of his self-control to not sink his cock deep into your sweet little cunt right then and there. “i just—s’too much for a guy to take,” he mumbles, trying to push his tip past your soaked folds, because he’s so nice to let you off easy for now since he knows he’s big. “i never know if you’re teasing or not.” and it’s true; the way you tread so carefully and so gently with everyone, especially with him, makes him wonder whether or not this is your way of being coy. “it’s like you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

miguel doesn’t know where all these words are coming from because he knows for a fact that he’s not all that open with anything, much less with things this personal. however, there’s something about the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes and being completely exposed in a way he’s fantasized about for so long that it sends him reeling. 

you’ve been so nice for him, going above and beyond for something you don’t even need to do; of course he needs to return the favor by making you feel good too! it’s only fair, after all, that he shows his very specific way of thanking you. 

the moment you give him the go, he slides right into you, your wetness and his pre-come making it easier for him to finally feel what it is he’s been dreaming about for so long. he can’t stop the low moan that escapes him when he feels your warm walls enveloping his cock, your pussy so accommodating and welcoming, just like you. he’s so relieved that it’s not his hand that’s making him feel this way anymore; immediately, he wants to bottom out, to bury himself so deep inside you that he’s positive his tip nudges against your cervix. he never thought that you’d be so kind as to let him fuck you, and he’s so eager to draw out all those sounds and reactions when you let him take you. 

he pushes in deeper, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit because he knows it’ll make you whine. “don’t think i can control myself, pretty girl,” he groans out, all the sensations hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he’s resisting the urge to move right after as you’re adjusting to him. you’re equally as fucked out as miguel and he’s not even all the way in yet. “i won’t stop until you’re crying for me, okay?” 

first time dabbling into smut writing so please be kind nyahaha also if there r grammatical errors no there aren't haha wdym

[qaxqxd]

Miguel O’Hara with an s/o who is on they’re period but gets super cuddly because of the headaches and cramps?

Warmth

♡Pair: Miguel O’hara x f!reader Genre: Fluff Warning: nothing bad,  just fluff :) A/n: AAAA I love this idea. It's a little short, but thank you for requesting this. Summary: You're on your period and you wanted to cuddle with Miguel.

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

It was morning, the sun was seeping through the blinds. You woke up feeling a unbearable sharp pain in your lower stomach. Walking to the restroom, seeing blood on your underwear.

“Shit.” You cursed, as you felt a headache coming through.You were on your period.

Great.

Cleaning yourself up, and putting on a pad. To walk back to the bedroom, laying down on your bed. You mumbled in pain. As you decide to call in from work today. You notify the watch. You were aching from your stomach. 

You had your phone and watch turned off. You tried to fall back to sleep, hoping the pain would go away.

-

Miguel found it weird that you weren’t at work today. He knew you called in sick, but as you weren’t picking up any of his calls. He even asked Lyla to see if you were okay over the watch, but you had it turned off. He started to get a bit worried. As he paced around the platform and looking at other missions that he sent Spider-mans to.

 Lost in thought Miguel didn’t even realize that Jess was right behind him.

“You okay there?” She asked him.

Miguel flinched a bit, looking over his shoulder to who the voice was. As he noticed it was Jess.

“I’m- just a little worried. (Y/n) hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts. She called in sick, but I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right.” Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. He was very worried for you.

“She’s probably fine. Have you checked on her yet? As in person?” Jess bridges her arms together. Miguel shook his head. As she sighed.

“I can take over for a bit if you’ll like.” She offers him.Miguel found it weird that you weren’t at work today. He knew you called in sick, but as you weren’t picking up any of his calls. He even asked Lyla to see if you were okay over the watch, but you had it turned off. He started to get a bit worried. As he paced around the platform and looking at other missions that he sent Spider-mans to.

 Lost in thought Miguel didn’t even realize that Jess was right behind him.

“You okay there?” She asked him.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back.” He said with haste, opening a portal to (Y/n)’s Earth. As he left, Jess let out a small giggle. As (Y/n) texted her earlier letting her know everything was alright. She knew you just wanted him to be with him, and she was happy to help you success with that.

Miguel needed a break either way.

-

As the sun seems to set on your Earth. Miguel arrived at your apartment, he had his own key to your apartment. You knew it’d be handy someday. Opening your door to your apartment.

“(Y/n)?” He questioned if you were home even.

“In here.” You drag out the word ‘here’. As you sounded tired. He walked into your room.

“Are you alright, mi amor?” He sat on the side of your bed, stroking your face. As you nodded at his question, you sat up a little bit, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“It’s just that I'm on my period.” You mumble, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Ah, do you want any sweets or anything by chance, mi vida?” He asked, a little worried. He was glad you weren’t actually hurt, or in trouble. You shook your head, as really all you wanted was to be close to him.

“Could you stay for a bit, Love?” You looked at him, hoping he would say yes. As his small smile confirmed that he’d stay.

“Of course I'll stay for a bit, mi querida. I want to take care of you.” Miguel cups your face, laying a kiss on the crown of your head.

And he did just that. He made sure you had everything you needed. Holding you close to him, knowing you’re feeling super cuddly. You both watched movies with each other. As you snuggle closer to him.

You spend the rest of the day with Miguel. He got you treats even though you said it was fine. You were just glad you had him around you, and you were able to cuddle against him. This was a side most people wouldn’t see from Miguel, but he was just happy to be with you.

As you two rested on each other. Cuddling with each other. Eventually falling asleep on each other.

-

WC. 0.7k

[messylustt]

╰┈➤ ꒰ ┊massive catalog / free sex and porn games ꒱ kinktober 2023 — m.list ( spiderverse )

welcome to ‘messylustt’ — your one-stop site for the best sex browser games with more porn games added every two days. no matter your kink, we have the link. ( 18+ ) — miguel o’hara, hobie brown, spider noir, lyla

  ݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ did i make you scream?

day one: restraint ( somnophilila / perv ) — hobie

day two: size kink - miguel

day three: you can’t leave ( power imbalance ) — miguel

day four: thigh riding - spider

day five: lazy touches ( tit fixation ) — hobie

day six: voice kink - hobie

day seven: woman in the mirror ( spectrophilia ) — lyla

day eight: dry humping - hobie

day nine: run, baby, run ( primal ) — miguel

day ten: photography - lyla

day eleven: blinded ( sensory deprivation ) — spider

day twelve: my pretty crier ( dacryphilia ) — miguel

day thirteen: untitled ( erotic massage ) - spider

day fourteen: free use kink - hobie

day fifteen: miguel’s theory ( cuckholding ) — hobie + miguel

day sixteen: corruption kink - miguel

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[lo-vearchive]

Forgive Me

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female! reader

Summary: After an argument at work with your boss Miguel O’Hara you quit your job at Alchemex in anger. Luckily your boss’ AI talks some sense into him and sends him your way to beg for forgiveness. Read Part Two: here

Word Count: 2340 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel begging for forgiveness, 18+ (minors DNI), no explicit smut, but things do get spicy at the end, breastplay, questionable Spanish

Note: Not proofread. Did get carried away a little, but I just love angst and men begging. Take it up with the duolingo owl if you don’t like my Spanish (i tried :((). Feedback is appreciated because this may be the most I have ever written on Tumblr. Have fun, horndogs.

 You rush into Miguel’s office at Alchemex on a Tuesday afternoon.

           “Mr. O’Hara,” you call out, heaving. “I need to speak to you.”

If Miguel found the use of his last name odd, he didn’t react. He sat hunched over his desk, clattering away on his keyboard. His wide shoulders obstructed the view of the screen, but you could tell he was working away at something important. Everything Miguel did seemed to be a matter of life or death recently and that left you with no time to discuss the nature of your relationship. You were stuck somewhere between more than colleagues but less than romantic partners, and now you wanted more than just the stolen looks and accidental lingering touches.

When he didn’t answer you called out again, wary of the listening ears at your workplace. “Mr. O’Hara?”

He let out a sigh with his back still turned to you. “What is it?”

You clear your throat to brace yourself against his cold tone. “It’s about something a bit more personal, sir. I would feel much better if we could speak with the door closed—”

“No quiero hablar contigo,” (I don’t want to speak to you) he cut you off. “I have a deadline to meet. Come back later.”

“This is important,” you insisted, glancing behind you at the ajar door to his office. “I just need some clarity about where things are going. Our interactions are messing with my head and that’s impacting my performance. I just need an answer.”

Miguel scoffed and continued typing away. “Helping you with your little feelings isn’t my priority. Go find something else to do. I’m busy.”

Irritation flooded through your body. Usually you could tolerate his hot-and-cold behaviour, but your patience was wearing thin. You hated his unwillingness to ever say what he truly felt, and you were tired of being in limbo. “You can’t just dismiss me like I’m some child. Miguel—”

“— No me hables—” (Don’t talk to me)

“No, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen or whatever is going on between us will end right now!”

He slammed his hands on his desk and the entire room shook on impact. He turned around and stalked towards you until he stood, looming over you. His red eyes reflected the anger in yours. He ran a large hand through his dark, dishevelled hair and spoke in a hushed, stern voice. “You are embarrassing yourself. Do I have to remind you that I’m your boss and this is your workplace? Let go of whatever fantasies you have got cooking in your head and get to work.”

You felt as if someone had slapped you in the face. Your cheeks felt hot, and your eyes began to sting. You felt like an idiot and then you felt angry for feeling that way as Miguel stood in front of you with sunken eyes and a stoic face.

A smirk played on his lips. “Calladita estás más guapa.” (You look prettier when you’re quiet)

You didn’t need advanced Spanish skills to understand what he meant. “F-Fuck you,” you choked through a constricting throat. “You’re an asshole. I quit.”

You stormed out of the office, hiding the tears that had begun leaking out. Avoiding the pitiful gazes of your colleagues, you grabbed your purse off the reception desk, threw your nametag aside and left the building.

Once Miguel was alone in his office, his bravado faded away. “Fuck,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. “Lyla, give me a visual on her.”

Lyla puffed into his sight with her arms crossed over her chest. Behind her played a video of your name tag being tugged off your coat lapel and landing in the garbage. Your palms rubbed furiously against your eyes as you made your way to the elevator and away from him. “Shit,” he cursed again. “I messed up . . . ”

“Messed up?” Lyla echoed, incredulity laced in her voice. “You broke her heart! Matter of fact, I can show you precisely where you shattered it!”

She rewinded the visual to a few minutes back. Miguel’s stomach dropped as he saw her lips tremble as she held her head up, listening to the knives launching out of his mouth. Lyla shook her head as you’re the image of your crestfallen face faded away. “You better fix this,” she warned.

“I know, I know,” he exhaled loudly. “Send me her location. I need to go fix this.”

 *******************************************************************************************

      You sat in your bed with red eyes and a spicy chicken burrito bowl, scrolling through a job-hunting website. Miguel would have told you that the take-out place you ordered from wasn’t authentic Mexican food, but he would also dismiss your existence in the same sentence, so you decided to not put any weight behind his words. Yet you couldn’t deny that his behaviour today hurt you deeply. You kept replaying your past interactions to see if you had imagined a connection where there was none.

It had been six months since you started working at Alchemex. Everyone had warned you about Miguel and his brashness towards his past secretaries. You used to walk on eggshells around him, minimizing the space you took, and trying your hardest to not bring any undue attention to yourself. It wasn’t long until you figure out he was Spider-Man, you were always perceptive, especially of him. Somewhere along the line, the nine-to-fives turned to nine-to-midnight and then those turned into overnight stays at his office, working alongside him to research anomalies with Lyla.

At first, it was just innocent touches at the small of your back to move you out of his way in the cramped office. Then came the lingering touches on your arms as he hunched over behind you, helping you navigate some code written on his computer screen. You could vividly recall the night when you couldn’t reach a box of files on the top shelf of his filing case. Miguel had scooped you up effortlessly with an arm underneath your buttocks. His warm breath hit your stomach as he asked, “Did you get it?” You were thankful that he didn’t see the bright flush on your cheeks as he lowered you back onto the ground. You were even more thankful when he didn’t step away.

But none of that mattered anymore. He was an asshole and you had quit your job. You shoved a spoonful of rice in your mouth and pushed away the memories. The sun began to set, painting your room orange and slowly that too faded away. You sat in the darkness, contemplating hitting up your friends for a night out when you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise. From the corner of your eye, you saw a shadowy figure peering inside your bedroom from the fire escape. You let out a loud scream, scrambling away with the bowl in your hand.

The figure held up its hand in surrender. “It’s me! It’s me!” a familiar voice called out.

“Miguel?”

The figure nodded and the mask around its face disappeared to reveal his face. “Let me in,” he said, pressing his hand against the glass. “I need to speak to you.”

You set the bowl down on a nearby table and walked towards the fire escape with your arms crossed over your chest. “Pero no quiero hablar contigo,” (but I don’t want to speak to you) you replied, throwing his words right back to him. “You need to leave.”

He sighed and shook his head. Holding his wrist out, he let out a string of web and pulled the door back slightly. “No!” you shrieked as he slipped in through the gap. “I won’t get my safety deposit back!”

He crossed the space between us in long strides and grabbed my arms. “I will fix it,” he promised, “but I need you to listen to me first.”

You eyed him with a neutral expression, trying your hardest to control your thundering heart. “I am so, so sorry,” he said with his big brown eyes boring into yours. “I was an idiot for how I behaved. Please don’t quit. I need you.”

You pursed your lips and looked away.

“Mírame,” (look at me) he whispered, moving his hands up to your neck. His thumb turned your chin softly back to him.

“You were right,” he continued, rubbing his thumb softly across your jawline. “There is something here and it scares me. I acted like a coward today when you, my sweet, brave girl brought it up. Please don’t leave me behind.”

“You made me feel like I was an idiot,” you mumbled, fighting back tears, and looking anywhere but him. “Made me feel as if I was imagining things. I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want to forgive you.”

His large hands moved to cup your face. He inched closer until the material of his suit slightly skimmed the surface of your tank top. He pressed his forehead to yours. “Forgive me.”

“No.”

his cool minty breath gently fanned your face. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

“No.”

“Forgive me,” he repeated and moved his face lower to the crook of your neck.

“No— ung.”

He pressed his lips gently against the sensitive skin on your neck. “Forgive me.”

You raised your forearms and pressed them into his chest, attempting to push him away, but Miguel didn’t move an inch. His arms moved to your back, caging you in his embrace. “Not fair!” you cried.

He tipped your head back with his nose and slid his lips across the expanse of your throat. You bit your lips harshly to prevent the sounds of pleasure from escaping your throat. Your chest rose and fell harshly as his lips sucked away sensually. He moved his mouth and connected it with a spot that made your legs go numb. Miguel’s hands caught you before you could slip away. He hoisted you up and on instinct, you wrapped your legs around him for support. He walked you both backwards and gently laid you down on your mattress.

Leaning over you, he opened his mouth to speak but the light from your laptop screen caught his attention. “You’re already looking for jobs?” he pouted, fisting the sheet around your head. “You can’t leave me behind, baby. What am I supposed to do without you?”

You scoffed. “Whatever you were doing before. You can find someone else to be mean to.”

He grunted and dipped down to your throat once again. “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.”

He kissed you again and your hand flew to his dark locks in surprise. He groaned as you tugged on it. “You can pull my hair and be mean to me too,” he mumbled against your throat. “Just please forgive me and give us a chance.”

You wrapped your hand around his neck. “Everyone at work heard us argue.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “It was my fault, and I won’t ever do it again.”

“People will talk,” you tried to reason, playing with the ends of his locks. “You are my boss.”

He pulled back to meet your eyes. His hair stuck out in different places and made you giggle. “Oh, yeah? Just your boss?”

“Yeah, what else— mmph!”

His mouth is on yours and it leaves you confused. Every touch of his in the past has been fleeting but this time Miguel won’t let this kiss end. His tongue parts your mouth and finds yours as his hand coaxes your jaw open. You let out a satisfied hum as he brushes your hair away from your face and neck and angles your face up. You had always imagined what kissing him would feel like, but nothing compared to this. You both lay in bed, fully dressed, but Miguel kissed you like he was already inside of you.

He pulled away and you groan, chasing his lips. “Wait, wait, wait, does this mean you forgive me?”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled harshly. “Miggy, you’re in my bed and on top of me. Of course, I forgive you.”

“Good,” he grinned.

His hand moves to your throat and then down the laced edge of your tank top. He inhales you deeply. “You smell so good. Every time you walked by my desk, I would get hard from a whiff,” he muttered to himself. “Thought it was your perfume, but now I know that it’s just you, your scent . . . I wonder if its stronger when I . . . can I?”

You were too preoccupied with feelings of disbelief to understand what he was saying, but you knew you felt safe in his arms. You nodded enthusiastically. Miguel hooked a finger into my tank top and gently pulled it down. He lets out a deep groan as your peaked nipples emerge from behind the fabric. “I know this is fast, but God, I could just . . .”

He wrapped his large hand around a breast. You let out a whimper as his touch makes your cunt clench around nothing. He moves your nipple in the space between his fingers and gives it a tug. “Miggy,” you gasp, gripping his hair. “You do this to all your secretaries?”

He shook his head as he continued to play with your nipple, rubbing it between his fingertips. “Only you, baby. I only ever want you.”

His warm mouth wrapped around a nipple as your legs wrap around him tighter. He sucks away at one breast while his hand plays with the other.

“Miguel!” you cry out at the sensation.

The side of your thigh begins to vibrate. It takes you a moment for you to navigate through the haze of pleasure to realize his cell phone is ringing. You reach into his suit pocket and pull out his phone. The words ‘Tyler Stone, CEO’ shine brightly on the screen.

You let out laugh which turns into moan. “Your boss is calling.”

Without stopping his ministrations, he tugs the phone out of your hand and chucks it aside on the bed. “Can’t talk now,” he mumbled around your breast. “I have my mouth full.”

[f4nrir]

I'm so feral for Miguel and I have monster fucker brainrot

Reader that has some tentacle power ande Miguel has some extremely horny thoughts about them

One night , reader goes to check on Miguel bc he was late and he was never late for their patrols and he sees Miguel desperately fucking himself with a tentacle dildo and moaning readers name.

Reader offers help and Miguel gets his fantasy of getting filled with tentacles and getting fucked by the reader fulfilled

fulfilled fantasies

一 pairing; miguel o'hara x symbiote!m!reader

note: hi anon, i've been wanting to do something with a symbiote and i hope you don't mind i experimented with it through this request. it was fun to write!

cw: bottom!miguel, monsterfucking, tentacles/symbiote tendrils, unprotected anal, toys, slight dacryphilia.

word count: 1.4k

revealing your power to him, you thought you would scare him away, but it did the complete opposite to miguel. his thoughts began to wander whenever you were around him, mainly when you would openly use your ability during a mission or when you were working together. he vividly remembers wanting a cup of coffee and you extended your arm out, and the symbiote that was bound to you mindlessly made the coffee for him as you focused on the work you had at hand.

it flustered him, but the uncontrollable thoughts he’d get made it unbearable to be around you. what made it worse was that the spandex suit he wore all the time did not make it any easier for him, as it wrapped tightly around his bulge. during missions, he would get lost in thought as you fought and easily defeated the threats at hand. the way your tentacles would wrap around the individual and how much control you had over them made him envious, as he wanted to feel you all around him. like a predator with its prey, unable to move and forced to submit to your control. 

out of pure desperation, he ordered toys in an attempt to get his fix. he acknowledged it was not the same, and he thought about you every time he used it on himself. as perverted as it already was, he decided to look through the cameras from patrols you would do together when you would use them. it was enough to make him come, but the way he craved for you made his need grow stronger but knew he could not do anything about his fantasy.

one particular night, miguel got caught up and forgot that you both had patrol. you shook your head and looked down at your watch, reading the time to realize he was almost half an hour late. you didn’t realize time had gone by so quickly and it worried you because miguel was never late for your patrols, as he prioritized the well-being of others more than anything else. you messed with your travel watch in an attempt to contact him but there was no answer, so you checked his location and he was in his office. you found it odd and your thoughts began to jump to conclusions that you didn’t like, encouraging you to go back to the base to check up on him.

when you arrived at the base, you began to dread what you may find when you enter his office. “miguel?” you called out as you jumped from pillar to pillar to get onto his platform but to your surprise, he wasn’t there. you checked your travel watch once again to see where he was until you heard soft moans coming from a nearby room. the hairs on the back of your neck stood when you realized that was miguel and you jumped down to find that room, intently listening to the sounds he made.

“ah mierda, please use me!” he moaned on the other side of this particular door and you were frightened, not wanting to walk in on him having sex with someone else that wasn’t you. he countered those thoughts when you heard your name, eyes widening as you opened the door just enough to get a peek inside. there he was, the leader of the spider society, on all fours with a machine that was fucking him from behind with a screen that had your recordings on it. the way he was desperately touching himself while increasing the pace of the machine made your heart flutter and your cock tighten in your suit.

“you’re into them that much?” you piped up as you leaned against the door frame with your arms crossed, opening the door to expose the tentacles that surrounded you.

“wh– oh my fuck, i am so sorry–” he frantically apologized and you closed the door behind you, locking it so no one could walk in.

“sorry for?” you took a step closer towards him as one of the tentacles made its way to miguel, lifting up his chin while the others made their way to various areas of pleasure.

miguel heaves at the contact of one on his cock as it began to wrap itself around him, causing him to tremble with every touch. his face was flushed and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, you were enjoying this scenery bestowed upon you.

“open,” you ordered and he complied, his jaw slack for the other to use. you moaned at the contact as you could feel pleasure through the endings of each one, making it a blessing yet a curse. miguel sucked on it with such pride and pleasure, surprisingly taking it better than you thought he would. in an attempt to express his gratitude, he began to moan your name but every space in his mouth was filled. he was only able to mumble, which sent vibrations to the tentacle from his throat, causing you to jump from the sensations.

you bent down to his level, grabbing his jaw with your hand to make him look back up at you. “what do you want? tell me,” the tentacle swiftly left his mouth, giving him a chance to speak. he whined and was obviously shy, unable to get the words out of him. “you shy? it’s too late to go back now, look at yourself” whispering it in his ear, you felt him melt under your touch and gave him an encouraging look to speak up for himself.

“fuck me. i want all of it inside me, as much as you can fill me with. please,” he begged and you chuckled, nodding your head. “if that’s what you want,” you tapped on the emblem on your chest to discard the suit, exposing your muscles underneath. miguel gasped and watched your every move, admiring your body and especially your hardened cock that slapped against your stomach. you pushed him down onto his back, positioning yourself as you took control and let the tentacles wander. you slowly slipped inside of him as the others began to wrap around his limbs, targeting his most vulnerable areas. a loud moan slipped out of miguel, and you hushed him by stuffing his mouth, not wanting to get caught with the sight of both of you like this.

your hips began to move involuntarily, as the symbiote took control of your body and did most of the work for you. miguel was a mess, tears ran down his face as you penetrated him in ways that he always wanted to. one after another, more of the tentacles began to penetrate him until he was screaming against you to stop from how much it hurt. knowing that you were hurting him and hearing his cries satisfied you, getting off to the torture he was enduring.

you wished you could stay in this moment, having miguel pinned underneath you, as you fucked him relentlessly and abusing his body with the fantasy he always craved from you. how can a leader and a strong man like him be trapped beneath you, losing himself because of tentacles wrapped around his body? each thrust was like torture for him; when you looked down, you could see a huge bulge forming in his stomach.

miguel couldn’t do anything but cry, knowing that fighting back wasn’t going to help. feeling helpless and used, yes, that’s what he liked. that is what he’d been wanting ever since you showed this side of yourself and his cravings only got stronger over time and now he’s gotten what he wants.

after a few more thrusts, you felt yourself nearing your climax as the pressure from the tendrils and his walls only tightened around you. “miguel… i can’t hold it any longer,” you mumbled and his eyes widened, attempting to push your hips away. however, you caved into your desires and filled him up with your cum. you could not stop, that was part of the ability. you had so much to release and the tentacle in his mouth filled his throat, forcing him to swallow all of it. the floor was painted with your cum, while miguel’s coated his stomach along with a tentacle that was wrapped around him a moment ago. 

the tendrils had retracted from his body, leaving miguel on the floor and unable to move from what you’ve done. he flashed you a smile, then covered his face in embarrassment. “did you get your fix?” you teased before playfully slapping his chest as you sat there in defeat, taking a look around and realizing how much you had to clean up.

“yes… the real thing was better…” he slowly sat up and pulled your face closer to his, your lips only inches away from one another. your breath hitched in your throat, as you felt his fangs lightly graze your lips. “let’s skip patrol, yeah?” he whispered against you and pressed your lips together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you down with him. 

[fandoms-writings]

Stay with Me

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

Word Count: 2.7K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn't get attached to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not after what he'd done. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It always was. 

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

If you enjoyed the story, please consider supporting me on my Ko-fi

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Translations: 

diosa - goddess

hermosa - beautiful

papi - daddy

guapo - handsome

Te necesito - I need you

no mames  - holy shit 

Muñeca - doll

[thecitysgraveyard]

omg i saw that you had requests open for miguel and peter b and i just have to

imagine having a threesome with them, and peter is the softer of the two, coaxing you with gentle words and softly touching you

meanwhile miguel is between your legs trying to get you to cum as many times as physically possible. all while peter lazily holds you and mumbles praise into your ear

that was so dirty im so sorry 😭

UFUHUHUDSHUGD ANON ILY

IM (S)CREAMING AND FOAMING FROM THE MOUTH RN ON THIS *lip bite insert*

okay okay well just imagine

peter is holding you from behind, kissing and sucking on your neck, while saying "good girl" and "cum for us cutie"

miguel is sucking on your clit and licking your folds and when you close your thighs cause of overstimulation he opens them and keeps going and says "ven por mi princess".

peter nibbles your ear and says "don't rush this princess " as miguel starts making circles on your cunt, and you whimper wanting more but miguel says "pequeña zorra necesitada, you like this don't you? stop whimpering or i'll stop" and he growls softly as he hears you whimper more and makes you cum again.

and once miguel has basically broken your brain with so much pleasure, peter and miguel take turns fucking you </3

ven por mi princessa - come for me princess

pequeña zorra necesitada - needy little slut

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Impatient

Miguel O'Hara X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: Miguel needs to see you in his office, immediately.

A/N: First Miguel fic! Pretty sure I have written him a little too soft. But I can't help myself. (Also, I read Spiderman 2099 100 years ago, please forgive me.)

Warnings: hickeys, secret relationship (kinda), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing, this has not been proofread, overuse of italics, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning.

Word Count: 2404

________________________________

It’s always been difficult for you to work when someone’s looking right at you. 

Especially, when the person staring was Miguel. 

You took a risky glance up from your computer screen to the far side and- 

Yeah. Still staring. 

Nerves twisted in your stomach as you quickly looked back to your work and swallowed. You tried to type, tried to verify the equation you were meant to be double checking, but your mind was swimming. The numbers and symbols just weren’t adding up to anything no matter how much you willed them to make sense. 

“I need to speak with you in my office.” Miguel’s stern voice made you jump and accidentally hit several keys on your keyboard. 

“Of course.” You managed to squeak out, the sound of your voice made you want to slam your head against your computer. “I’ll, erm, be right there.” 

He stayed standing close, his arms crossed. 

You swallowed again and got up quickly when he didn’t move. 

Sabrina, your colleague at the desk next to you gave you a worried and apologetic glance. She obviously thought you were in for a bollocking. 

You followed Miguel silently as you both exited the room and went to the elevator. You stayed silent as he pushed the button for the highest floor, the one his office was on. 

You bit your lip, digging your nails into the skin around your thumb. 

It was only when you were both two steps into his office that Miguel looked at you, turning so quickly that he was almost a blur. His hands on your shoulders as he pushed you back into the door. 

The little yelp of surprise that started to escape your lips was quickly muffled by his mouth on yours. He grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting you up and wrapping them around his hips in one swift motion.

You clutched at his shoulders, the yelp turning into a moan as he slid his tongue into your mouth and pressed his body flush against yours. 

“Fuck,” you pulled away to the side just enough to speak, “is this what you wanted to see me about?” 

His lips are back on yours in an instant, muffling your question. 

You pulled on the hair at the back of his head, just enough to be able to speak. “Migu-”

“Missed you.” He murmured, sinking his head back to your lips before trailing kissed over your jaw. 

You gasp, arching your back towards him as dips lower, leaving soft open mouthed kisses along your throat and rocking against you. You can feel his cock, thick and heavy straining against the confines of his trousers.

“You, you could have sent an email.” You lose your train of thought for a second as Miguel nips at your pulse point. “I would have come straight up.”

He makes a hum of disapproval into your neck, already so desperate to feel you. He snakes his hand under your top, pressing against your waist and using it as leverage to move you against him. 

His bulge rubs just right over your clit and you bite down a moan.

It’s like something in him snaps at the sound. “Need you, need you so bad.” He growls, pulling you away from the door and to the floor. 

He’s everywhere, crowding you in, pulling at your shirt buttons and trousers impatiently. All while kissing you roughly. 

You’ve been in this position too many times to know it’s only a short matter of time before he gets so irritated that he’ll either rip the buttons off or claw the material in two. 

“Miguel, Miguel,” you soothe, your hands going to his face and making him look at you. 

He pauses, breathing hard. 

You kiss his lips softly, pulling back when he tries to press against you hard. 

He whines, his hands on the floor on either side of your head. You can see his claws digging into the carpet in your peripheral vision. 

You kiss him again, just as soft. And he lets you this time, rolling his hips against you ever so gently in a perfect rhythm with your lips. 

You pull back, pressing another quick light kiss to the tip of his nose. “You okay?” 

He keeps his eyes closed and nods. 

You know he’s lying. Something’s upset him, something’s gotten under his skin and set his blood ablaze. 

But you also know him. You know he can’t talk about it right now, not when whatever it is is fresh and bleeding. 

He’ll talk about it later. Miguel always talks about it later. 

You kiss time again, light and sweet before trailing your lips to his neck. While you don’t want to be seen covered in hickeys after talking with the head of the company, no one would dare even mention it to Miguel if they saw a love bite just above his collar. 

You undo the top three buttons as you kiss his kiss, moving your lips lower and lower and then biting down hard.

Miguel hisses and clutches at you, pulling you tightly against him and rubbing his aching cock against your thigh. 

“Please… need you.” He moans softly at your ear. The tension in his lips is insurmountable, like the smallest action could cause him to shatter. 

You nod, kissing his chin then his lips. 

He doesn’t pull away quickly. Instead he melts into the kiss, groaning softly, as he swallows your tongue into his mouth. Enjoying your hands running up his chest. 

Thankfully (for your rapidly decreasing wardrobe) he unbuttons your shirt carefully, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin like it’s the first time he’s seen it. 

He bites at your breast playfully through the material of your bra, gazing up at you and chuckling as you gasp and give him a look.

It’s always good to see him smile, the expression never fails to send a rush of heat to your core. 

He undoes your trousers painfully slowly, taking his time in popping the button and pulling the zipper down as he kisses your hip and you wiggle underneath him. 

He’s doing it on purpose now, going extra slow because you made him calm down. 

“Miguel,” you start but he’s chuckling again. 

“Don’t be so impatient.” He mutters against your skin. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and gawk at him. “Me? What about you?” You try to keep your voice stern, but it’s hard not to smile when he’s looking up at you like that. “You’re the one that-”

He loves waiting until you're in the middle of a sentence to act. 

Without warning he hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your trousers down to your knees, the force of the motion nearly making you fall completely flat on your back. 

You open your mouth to speak but Miguel is grinning like the spider that caught the fly. 

“Looks like you're falling for me baby.”

You pretend to hit him. “That’s terrible.”

He laughs, pulling off your shoes and then finishing taking off your trousers. “You love it.”

“I love you, you idiot.” You can’t help but smile. “In spite of your jokes.” 

He snickers and leans back down, lavishing your thighs with kisses until he reaches your centre. 

You can’t help but moan softly and arch your back off the floor as he presses his face into your clothed pussy. “Fuck.”

He kisses your clit over your panties and nuzzles his nose into the wet patch that has started to leak through. “You love my jokes.” He murmurs, looking up at you, already so close to falling apart, with his large red eyes. 

You shake your head. “They’re terrible.”

He grins. “Fair enough.” 

Oh so slowly, he slides his finger underneath your underwear, and, for a second you think he’s going to swipe through your folds. But instead he curls his finger towards himself, extending his claw, slicing the material clean apart. 

“Miguel!” You chide, without any real heat in it.

“I’m allowed to rip one thing,” he bats his eyes at you, completely juxtaposing his shit eating grin. “Besides I bought you these.”

“I’ll kill you.”

His smile widens, showing the sharp points to his canine teeth, “How about you give me a little death instead?”

“Now that is worse than-” You moan loudly, your head falling back against the carpet as he licks a long, slow stripe through your folds. Ending the action with a swirl around your clit. 

You gasp, bucking up against him involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he repeats the action, a little faster this time. “Looks like you like my quips actually.” 

You huff and gently grab a fistful of his hair, pushing him back to your cunt. “Be quiet.”

He laughs softly but doesn’t talk back, pressing his face back into you and licking slowly, broad stripes with the flat of his tongue. He grabs hold of your ass, canting you upwards ever so slightly so he can fully work you over. 

“Fuck, ah-”

He hums smugly as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently and then flicking it with his tongue. 

“Shitshitshitshitshit,” you can feel yourself getting close already, it was embarrassingly fast how well Miguel knew your body, how quickly he could bring you to the edge and push you over. 

You grind against his face as he fucks you with his tongue, lapping up your juices and groaning happily. 

It’s only when your back starts arching completely off the floor, when your breathing changes into a high pitch whine that he moves his mouth, focusing completely on your clit. Swirling circles and sucking on it gently before teasing it with the edge of his teeth. 

You writhe underneath him, pulling on his hair as he continues his onslaught. 

He looks up at you, catching your eyes for a second and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him. 

You don’t even get the chance to warn him you're about to come. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, flooding your mind and body completely and utterly. Drowning out all other thoughts and senses. 

Miguel worths you through it, pulling moan after moan from you, until you fall back on the floor exhausted. 

He sits up quickly, the bottom half of his face and neck shining from your release. He’s grinning a little smugly and quickly pulls off his tie and shirt, wiping your come off his skin with the latter. 

You barely get the chance to sit up before he’s kissing you again, the action deep and needy. He guides your arms out of your open shirt and undoes your bra, throwing your clothes to the side before kissing your chest. 

“Fuck Miguel,” you whine as he takes one nipple in his mouth, his fingers toying with the other. Heat rises to your skin and even though you’ve just come, you still need him so, so badly. 

He kisses up to your neck. “Get on your hands and knees.” There’s a softness to his voice, an unspoken please.

You move, doing what he asks instinctively. 

There’s a shift and shuffle of material behind you as he kneels and pulls his trousers and boxers down to free his weeping cock. 

He places his warm hand on your hip. The grip is strong, solid and comforting as he moves closer to you. The front of his thighs just touching the back of yours. 

He pumps himself slowly, teasing himself with the sight of you wet and ready for him. 

The carpet bites into your knees, but you don’t care. The anticipation, the warmth in your belly is driving you insane. You lean back a little, offering up yourself for him.

And he graciously accepts. 

He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance and so slowly eases in, taking his time like he hadn’t been hard and wanting for long before he came to see you.

You gasp at the stretch, his thickness filling you up so completely and utterly it seems to push the thoughts out of your mind. 

“You okay?” He mutters, his voice low and strained as he tries to control himself. 

“I’m good!” Your voice goes up embarrassingly high at the end as he bottoms out, brushing deep inside. 

“Good.” He breathes in deeply, trying to ground himself and you can feel him pulsing inside of you. 

You push back ever so slightly, arching your back, “you can mov-oh!”

He pulls back and snaps his hips back into you, almost dragging himself out completely before slamming back into you. 

You cry out as he sets a brutal pace, changing the angle with every thrust until he hears you whine loudly when he hits that special spot. 

“There baby? You need it there?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice but warmth as well as he focuses all his energy on fucking you exactley right. 

You gasp, unable to fully form words with the way he's ramming the air out of you. You barely manage a “uh, uh, uh,” of confirmation. 

Pleasure coils in your stomach, building higher and uncontrollably higher.

He’s pulling your hips back with every thrust, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Your knees burn, rubbing raw on the carpet, but you hardly register it with the way he’s making you feel. 

“Miguel, I’m,” you whine, not able to get another word out as he picks up his pace. Fucking you even harder, even closer to your peak. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He leans over your back as he thrusts, kissing your shoulders and reaching his right hand down to rub your clit. 

He barely gets a chance to circle it once before to cry out, clamping down on him as a wave of pleasure blooms through you. 

His hips stutter as you grip him, your walls pulling his orgasm from him suddenly. He groans as he comes, emptying himself deep within you and thrusting softly as you both come down. 

You feel light, boneless and ready to sink into a heap on the floor. Miguel’s firm grip is the only thing that stops you. 

He kisses your shoulder softly.

And you sigh, your knees twinge. “One day I won’t get carpet burn after a ‘meeting’.” You mutter and he laughs. 

“I love you.” He mutters against your skin softly. “Maybe I’ll get a bed put in here.”

You laugh loudly and he smiles.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[lethalchiralium]

my tears ricochet | Miguel O’Hara

“Miguel!”

Miguel watched the beautiful woman enveloped his variant self in a button up shirt and slacks, arms around his neck as she squealed about his arrival. She was pretty, voice sounded like perfection, and it made his heart twist into knots. All he had before was Gabi. Her mother had abandoned her when she was young, so he had no happy family in a pretty house on the end of a nice street like his variant did. Miguel watched his variant kiss her face, watched his beautiful daughter happily embrace him.

His body was a mosaic of stone, his suit made of electricity did nothing to give him any reason to feel - he had ripped his feelings from his chest long ago, just to end the pain that seemed to drown him in its acidity.

“Let’s go.”

Miguel didn’t miss the way his tears fell to the ground, bouncing and shattering off his suit. He didn’t miss the feeling of his body melting away to expose the bones underneath. And he definitely didn’t miss the way he wanted someone like you, the beautiful wife married to a less fucked up version of himself.

So he followed Lyla. Followed her without any quick remark, any quip or venomous bark. She didn’t look at him after she watched his tears ricochet.

———

The Title List Prompts!

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[miguelswifey04]

Hi! Could you do a protective Miguel story with a sunshine f! reader? she's smart and makes friends easily and she assumes the best in people but doesn't always know when someone doesn't mean her well.

hi hi thanks for requesting!! yea of course love 💕

protective! miguel x sunshine f! reader

~fluff (for sure!)

in the bustling city of Nueva York, you, a vibrant and intelligent young woman, navigated through life with a bright smile and an optimistic outlook. your sunny personality and natural charm made it easy for you to make friends wherever you went, and you embraced each new connection with open arms.

miguell, drawn to your infectious sunshine and kind-hearted nature, couldn't help but be captivated by you. he admired your ability to see the best in people, but also recognized your vulnerability when it came to discerning those who might take advantage.

protective by nature, miguel made it his mission to keep you safe, even if it meant shielding you from the harsh realities the world sometimes held. he watched over you, always ready to step in and protect you from those who wished to do you harm, both physically and emotionally.

one day, you befriended a charming stranger you met at a local coffee shop. the two of you hit it off instantly, and he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better. seeing your excitement, miguel maintained a cautious eye. he couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of doubt about this newcomer.

as your friendship with the stranger grew, miguel decided to investigate further, ensuring your well-being was protected. with his vast intellect and technological prowess, he dug into the stranger's background, uncovering unsettling information that indicated he was not as kindhearted as he appeared.

knowing he couldn't keep you in the dark any longer, miguel approached you gently, expressing his concerns. he revealed the truth about the stranger's true intentions, emphasizing the need to prioritize your safety and happiness.

although you were initially taken aback, miguel’s genuine concern and unwavering support allowed you to see the truth. grateful for his protection and love, you trusted in his judgment and made the difficult decision to distance yourself from the stranger, recognizing the potential harm he could have caused.

with miguel by your side, you continued to radiate your positive energy, but now with an added layer of awareness. you learned to strike a balance between your trusting nature and the need to protect yourself, trusting miguel’s instincts and guidance when it came to assessing the intentions of others.

together, you and miguel forged a bond that couldn't be broken, a partnership where he fiercely protected you from the darkness that lurked in the world. with miguel’s loving presence, you were able to shine even brighter, knowing that you always had someone who would guard your heart and ensure your happiness.

tags 🏷️: @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

[o4i0n]

happy holidays everyone! this isn’t a christmas fic btw i just wanted to say happy holidays 

reblogs, comments & likes r highly appreciated !

the first time the two of you meet, miguel o’hara easily picks up on the fact that it doesn’t take a lot to please you. 

well, to rephrase, he finds that it doesn’t take much to make you happy and ensure that you’d reward him with one of your bright smiles if he does right by you. if he thinks that you couldn’t get even more perfect in his eyes, you somehow manage to prove him wrong, that he, in fact, could love you more, just because you give him so many reasons to. 

since he’s crowned you as one of the only people whom he can say he’s had the utmost pleasure of meeting and getting to know, he vowed to himself that he would make it his absolute mission to spoil you as much as he’s able to, so long as you let him. you do, of course you do; besides, why deny him one of the simplest pleasures in life, the very ones he thought he wouldn’t get to experience? you can’t say no to him, oh no—not when he’s been so eager to make sure that you always know that he loves you this much. 

it’s not like you weren’t treated as well in your past relationships, it’s just that miguel makes sure that he goes above and beyond to put a pretty smile on your face. his treatment of you has ruined the potential of any other person who would attempt to surpass what miguel has done and will continue to do for you, but there are no complaints from your end. even so, it takes you by storm just how much more attentive he is as compared to your previous partners.

until now, you’re always quick to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do so much for lil’ old you; you tell him that you don’t need anything extravagant or anything of the sort, because you already appreciate the fact that he always wants to make you happy. you keep saying that it’s the thought that counts, because if it’s from him, it’s already enough. however, it’s also difficult to argue with a man who’s so set in stone with his ways, that he mentions again and again that you deserve the world and so much more—all you had to do was say the word and he’d bust his ass to make it happen for you. 

then again, if it doesn’t take much to make you happy, then it doesn’t take much to placate him, since you can always tide him over with one of your sweet smiles, the ones he knows is specifically just for him, and the unwavering look of love in your eyes. after all, he does it all for you. whatever makes his girl happy, even if she refuses to give into being spoiled because she’s insistent in sharing the simpler things in life with him. 

────────────────────────

“listen to me,” he huffs out, and with the pace he’s going at, you’re pretty sure that the last thing you’re able to do is to listen to whatever it is he’s going to say next—not when he’s busy making sure to fuck every sensible thought out of your pretty little head. just because you like being good for him, you try to do what he says, but the only things that are reaching your ears are the wet, creamy squelches from when he thrusts into you, and the short, ragged breaths that both of you take. 

your body is caged between miguel and the mattress, a pillow beneath your hips so that you’re propped up without tiring either of you out too much. if you weren’t so busy being lightheaded at how well he’s fucking you, you’d think something along the lines of how pretty miguel looks right now; the attentiveness is shining through once again, with just enough casual dominance for you to melt even more into his touch. the low rumble that pairs with the filth he’s about to spew adds something else to the entire experience, and you whimper when his cock drags along the warm, velvety walls of your sopping wet cunt as he pulls out ever so slightly. 

miguel leans in closer to you, the heat of his breath tickling the shell of your ear when he presses a kiss right where the pulsepoint is on your neck. even with how hard he’s been going, you find some kind of momentary peace at the feeling of his soft lips against your sweat-soaked skin. “if i can’t make you cum every single night, then i’ve failed you. understood?” 

there he is again with the absolute certainty in his words—as if he could ever fail you. you don’t think that he could ever do that, not even if he tried; his devotion is one you’ve never witnessed before nor have been on the receiving end of, and it makes your head spin. no one has ever spoken to you like this in your life, and you’d almost be embarrassed at how receptive you are to him with the way you clench around his length when he says all that, but you aren’t. he’s just that good at what he does. 

you’re not even doing any work at this point, not when your thighs burn from your previously exerted efforts. in your daze, you don’t even notice that miguel stopped moving for a moment, and it’s not before you whine out a small ‘mhm hmm, understood!’ with much effort before his fingers dig into the fat of your sides for support as his hips snap up against yours at a grueling pace.  

even with how tired you are, you somehow want more, so in the times that miguel slows down for your sake, you move your hips along with his thrusts to get more out of him. with how hesitant you started out, you don’t think he’d notice, but it’s miguel: of course he notices. when he catches on, miguel smiles, a slight gleam of fang peeking out, and he plants a kiss on your forehead, a stark contrast at how he’s completely abusing your pussy. 

“there we go, that’s right,” he croons at you, watching your once shy movements get lost in a flurry of pure desperation, your back arching off the mattress and your hips raised as you grind down on him. to make you squirm even more, he lets one of his hands wander along your body, starting with your chest as he takes a pebbled nipple in between his fingers, his touch then ghosting the curve of your stomach, right before his fingertips come into contact with your poor, sensitive clit to rub small, practiced circles over it. “fuck yourself on my cock—there’s a good girl. doing so well for me, taking what’s hers.” 

he’s going to be the death of you one day, you think. you don’t know how you manage to get even wetter or even more sensitive, but you do. with how long the two of you have been at it, coupled with the utter precision miguel has to make you fall apart in the best of ways, it doesn’t take long before you cry out miguel’s name as you chase your orgasm. a few more times of you rutting your hips against his own so that he hits that specific spot, all while he’s lazily fucking into you, has you creaming around his cock and leaves your thighs shaking. 

when your hips drop back into the pillow, miguel chuckles softly while he watches you try to catch your breath. you don’t know how many times you’ve come that night, but miguel looking like he hasn’t broken a sweat annoys you—lovingly, of course. it might be because of how drunk you are off him, but you swear that the light in the room makes it seem like he has little hearts in his eyes. 

“pussy’s treatin’ me so well, honey. let me make you come again, yeah? you know i’m all yours.” he lets out another groan as pushes into you and bottoms out yet again, the leaking tip of his cock nestled comfortably inside you. you love him, you really do, but good god, he loves you too much. with one hand, miguel still holds you by your hips while the other gently pats your mound. “she can take it, i know she can.” 

you want to roll your eyes at how corny he’s being, talking to your pussy like she’s her own person, but whatever. he looks so proud of himself too, with that stupidly adorable, boyish grin on his face—a little lopsided, but you love it all the same. as his deft fingers find their way back in between your legs to gently toy with your overly sensitive clit, you twitch a little, but you don’t fight the fact that you succumb into whatever it is he’ll do next, just because he’s so willing to make you feel good. once your legs fall open and give him a short, tiny nod, miguel is ecstatic.  

“give me a break,” you sigh, feigning exasperation as you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “then just one more, okay?” 

when his eyes crinkle at the corners ever so slightly right before the smile on his face flattens into a smirk, you know that it won’t be ‘just one more.’ it never is with him. 

still, he gives you a nod, his body pressing into yours in a way that you didn’t think he could anymore. “promise.” 

still learning the ropes of writing smut so please be nice ashdfgsh also again if there r grammatical errors you didn't see them :P

[qaxqxd]

Spider Lust

♡Pair: Miguel O’hara x Afab!reader

Genre: Smut

Warning: NSFW / Sexual content

A/n: Fulling my Janitor.ai roleplay (sigh) Also Miguel could release his venom on command if he wanted. (first time writing smut in forever.)

Summary: You and Miguel were on a mission to stop an anomaly in a lab. It was supposed to be a stealth mission. You both got caught red handed and were now hiding for it to die down a bit. Hiding in a small cramped space wasn’t a good idea, or.. Was it?

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

Great, just absolutely great. You were in a tight space and sitting on your Boss’s lap. Just how you wanted to spend your Tuesday’s night.

“Stop moving around.” He whispered, gripping your waist.

“Your lap is uncomfortable.” You whine.

“You should have thought of that before you grab the USB.” Miguel spoke, seeming a little pissed.

“Why would I think about sitting on your lap?” You teased him.

“What?- No! You know what I mean.” He frowned. You couldn’t turn around to look at him, but you knew he was a little red.

I mean it was technically your fault that you were in this situation. You grab the USB without thinking it wasn’t guarded. You technically could have done this on your own too, but Miguel insisted on coming along. Now you know why. He probably predicted you would screw up or something.

Miguel always acted like he knew the future which was- True sometimes. He is trying to stop the multiverse from collapsing, so maybe he predicted your screw up. But goodness, his lap is uncomfortable. You tried to move a little closer into his lap. It was a little more comfortable, still uncomfortable.

“(Y/n) stop moving.” He whispers again, his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t listen and moved closer, until your back touched his chest. His grip on your waist tightens. You heard him grunt a little.

“My bad, it's just really uncomfortable on your lap.” You said. He had both hands on your waist trying to move you somewhere comfortable on his lap. He didn’t say anything after, so you scoot back to your original spot. Laying your head on his chest.

You heard his heartbeat, it was pretty fast. He was breathing heavily on your head.

“You alright, boss?” You spoke sort of concerned.

“Yeah, I’m. I’m fine.” He had his head buried in your shoulder. You felt a bump underneath yourself. You felt like you were sitting on a rock. You moved a little, not knowing you were grinding on his groin.

You felt him flinch.

“Please stop moving, (Y/n).” Miguel sounded like he was out of breath.

“What are you carrying in your pockets?” You asked, still moving a little. “My suit doesn’t have pockets.” He grunted.

A moment of silence went by when you realized what you were sitting on his cock. Your eyes widen and you turn all red.

“Shit- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

He crashes his lips onto yours. Exploring every part of your mouth. Shutting you up. You both let go to catch your breath. A string of saliva connects you two.

“I can’t resist you anymore, amor.” His words send shivers down your spine. You felt your core heat up.

“You can have me then.” You mumble. 

The look in his eyes was lust hungry. Using his claws to rip off your suit. He kissed your bare neck.

“You owe me a new suit.” You whisper. “Mhm..” He continues to kiss your neck caressing his fangs onto your neck. His hand going into your panties and feeling your folds.

“You're so wet for me, querida.” He teases, sliding his fingers inside of you. Pumping them in and out. You moan at the pleasure.

“Shh… You don’t want to get caught do you?” He coe.

As his pace picks up, you feel your climax rise. His large fingers felt so good. You jolted as you felt his fingers go deeper inside. Your back arch as he finds your g-spot. He kissed your lips, trying to silence your moans.

Miguel was using his other hand to play with your breast. Flicking your hard nipple with his thumb.

“Miguel- I’m, I’m close.” You whine. As you felt the waves of pleasure crash over you. You came on his fingers, riding your orgasm out. He took his fingers out of you, licking his fingers. You watched the nano tech disappear from his groin and his cock flinging out.

The bead of pre-cum dripping from his tip. Your eyes widen at his size. Miguel lifted your thigh up with one hand. As the tip of his cock enters you. He rubs your clit with his cock teasing you.

 “Put it in already.” You mewled as he slowly slid his lengthen into you. You felt so full, tears forming. 

“So needy” He chuckled lightly. 

You moaned out, as he started to thrust into you. You felt his cock so deep inside. He was throbbing inside of you. As pain turns into pleasure. You heard him groan as he picked up the pace. You tighten around his cock, but he was able to thrust in. His thick cock stretched your hole so much.

“Ah mami, you're so tight. Such a perfect fit for my cock.” He bullied your tiny cunt. Your eyes rolling back to the intense pleasure. Your only vocabulary was his name. As you came for the second time.

He rubbed your clit while thrusting into you. He loved that you came on his cock. He was hungry for more. His hips, bucking to your hole. His pace is a little sloppy from before. You clutch onto his back, basically digging your nails into him.

You came so many times afterwards, he fucked you stupid. You cried into his shoulder. As he release, you felt a hot liquid shoot into you, painting your walls.

“ngh.” You moaned, but Miguel covered your mouth with his hand. Your thighs trembling on his cock.

“You did so well.” He praised you. Miguel kissed your head. Exhaustion took over you, and you fell asleep. As for Miguel, he placed a long lab coat over you. Carrying you out of the cramp room as the coast was clear.

Back to HQ with the USB.

Mission succeed? 

-

WC 1k

[pillarofsnow]

The One with the Leather Jacket

Warning: female y/n

It’s 3am. This sounded better in my head. Sorry for any grammar errors! I really like Friends. Ok, bye :)

*Peter, Jessica, Miles, Hobie, Pavitr, and Gwen talking after it’s revealed that y/n just found out she is pregnant. She’s been secretive about who the father of her baby is*

Peter: What? Y/n’s pregnant? Who’s the father?

Gwen: We don't know.

Jess: Ohh... I wonder if that guy.

Miles: There's a dude?

Jess: Yeah.

Hobie: Who? Who is it?

Jessica: About a month ago this guy spent the night with y/n, I didn't see who it was but... *walks out the room*

Pavitr: uhhhhh, was that story over?

Jess: *comes back holding a leather jacket* The guy left this.

Peter: *gasps as he looks at the jacket.* Oh my God! I might know who the father is...*leaves jacket on the table and walks out without saying who it was*

Pavitr: People have got to finish their stories!

•Later that day•

*Miguel walks in the room while the people mentioned above are hanging out. He sees the jacket on the table*

Miguel: Què maravilla, after a month it finally appears. *says with sarcasm as he takes it and leaves*

Jess, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr *understands right away*: Oh my God!!

Peter & Miles: *delayed response* Oh my god!