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#miguel o'hara atsv
lacedinweb22 · 5 months
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your neighbor, stoner Miguel ✥°o。 headcanons nsfw 18+
✤ Stoner Mig who leaves his apartment door open a crack just before you get back from work, knowing the smell will force you to come over.
✤ Stoner Mig, who with eyes red, voice lazy, leads you to his couch, where you sit on his lap.
✤ Stoner Mig who puts the joint in between your lips, lighting it slowly, his eyes on your lips.
✤ Stoner Mig who talks you through it, telling you when to inhale and exhale. He praises you, “Took it so well, chula,” he whispers, eyes low as he takes the joint from your lips into his. He has a glass of water ready in case you start to cough. He’ll hold the glass up to your lips, eyes on yours. He knows how to take care of you.
✤ Stoner Mig who inhales the smoke you exhale, getting high off of the air you breathe.
✤ Stoner Mig who lets the smoke slowly escape his lips, then presses his lips to yours, passing you the little smoke left in his lungs. The kiss gets messy, you lazily kiss, giggling, as your hands roam each other.
✤ Stoner Mig who flirts with you all night, towering over you in the kitchen, pressing up against you, your back against the counter.
✤ Stoner Mig who will make sure you’re fed, dragging you to the kitchen so he can make you a sandwich, a real sandwich. He shows you his pantry, impressing you with all of the snacks he bought, the snacks he knows you like. You stand in the kitchen for what feels like hours, munching on ten different kinds of snacks, talking and giggling til your ribs hurt.
✤ Stoner Mig who rests his hand on your thigh, prompting you to move from your spot on the couch to his lap. You feel his hard-on through his sweats, grinding slowly; it’s innocent really. You’re both high, it happens.
✤ Stoner Mig who lazily whispers how good of a girl you are as you finish him off through his sweatpants. His eyes are drowsy, voice low, deep and raspy. He looks up at you, eyes red, cheeks pink, as you comb your fingers through his hair.
✤ Stoner Mig who spreads you on the couch, his lips wandering down to your thighs. He pulls down your pants slowly, trailing kisses towards your underwear. He drags your panties down to your ankles, as you tug at his roots, he moans at your touch. His lips finally wrap around you, he lazily laps at your core, high, and still able to give you the best head of your life.
✤ Stoner Mig who is needy when high, asking you to come under the blanket with him. He eventually lays down on his side, spooning you, whispering sweet nothings into your hair, high off his ass. You wait for him to fall asleep then head back to your place. You’ll repeat this tomorrow anyways.
‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙
I’m finally 21 years old! ৻(≧ᗜ≦৻) ✿༶⋆˙⊹✢
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theorphicangel · 22 days
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thinking about boxer!miguel eating you out as an apology for not spending enough time with you. training had completely taken over his days, resulting in him leaving early in the mornings and arriving late at night all sweaty and exhausted.
you swore to him that you didn’t mind and that you understood his circumstances, after all it was his dream career but you couldn’t help but feel a little neglected after spending numerous long nights by yourself.
it was surprising to Miguel to find you awake and waiting for him on the couch. he slipped off his shoes, training bag hanging off his shoulders which were exposed from the black tank top he wore.
“why aren’t you asleep?”
you shrug, avoiding his eye contact. you didn’t want to seem too clingy, hesitant on giving an honest answer.
“just missed you mig’, I haven’t seen much of you recently.”
a soft thud hits the floor as he places his training bag down, the realisation of his neglect now hitting him.
ah, you missed him. and who could blame you? he knows all too well that he’s been preoccupied with his training for an upcoming fight in a few months. ever since the announcement he’s been nothing but excited, heading down to the gym each and every day. Miguel almost wants to kick himself for not realising sooner how much he’s neglected you.
there’s only one way to make up for it.
the room suddenly fills up with your sweet moans, fingertips lost in his locks as he dives between your thighs. it feels like forever since the last time Miguel went down on you, immediately his tongue is at your folds with no time to waste.
his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, locking you in place as he laps up your juices. your mouth shapes into an ‘O’, eyes rolling into the back of your head with your other hand digging into his shoulder. he’s still sweaty from his training today but you swear it only makes you lust for him more.
another thing you missed about Miguel is how vocal he is; his grunts and groans from how wet your cunt in mixes flawlessly with your own gasps and whimpers. the sound of him lapping at your cunt is so explicit, “so fuckin’ sweet f’me” he mumbles once he has a chance to come up for a breather but before you know it, he dives in again.
a thumb begins to rub slow circles on your clit, his teeth marking your inner thighs. already you’re so close, the hot tension in your lower stomach is threatening to snap.
and despite being away from you for so long, Miguel still remembers every little thing about your body, how your thighs tense up before you cum, wrapping around him a little tighter which is just the way he likes it.
“you gonna cum for me?” he purrs, circles quickening on your clit. the least you can do is nod your head, words unable to form from your tongue. your moans coax him on, his name leaving your mouth like a prayer as he works away, juices dripping down his chin— for this part he makes sure to look up at you, holding you in place as his brown eyes meet yours.
finally the tension builds up in your lower stomach for another minute or two before violently snapping like a rubber band. you gasp aloud, body shivering and your eyes rolled back.
“good girl, that’s it.” he praises as you continue to roll your hips against his face. Miguel’s own eyes nearly roll back completely at your sweet taste, god, how could he ever neglect such a sweet thing like you? mentally he makes a promise to himself to never leave you alone for this long again, he can’t forgive himself for neglecting you for so long in the first place.
“I think I need to properly show you how much I missed you, hmm cariño?”
part 2 here!
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angel-of-the-moons · 2 months
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Aggravating
Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader
TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
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You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.
And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.
After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.
(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)
But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)
But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...
Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.
He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.
Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.
And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.
Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.
Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.
But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.
You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.
Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.
You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.
Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.
He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.
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"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.
Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.
The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.
Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.
Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.
You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.
Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.
Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.
You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.
You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.
The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.
Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.
"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.
Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.
"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.
All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.
The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"
"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"
Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.
"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.
His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;
"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"
You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.
"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.
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alrtyhoney · 8 months
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TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 
(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)
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The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)
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There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 
You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 
Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.
He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.
You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 
“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 
The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 
– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.
“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 
“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”
You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.
Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 
“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 
She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 
The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?
She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.
“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 
It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.
“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”
But you knew that wasn’t the case. 
While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 
It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 
This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.
“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 
It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.
“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."
Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 
“No reason.” 
It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 
Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?
You dared not to talk about it too.
Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.
But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 
You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.
Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.
Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 
The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 
His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.
“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 
The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 
“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 
“But I worked really hard for this.”
You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.
He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”
If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?
You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 
He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 
“Of course.” 
After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.
But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.
The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.
“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”
And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 
“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 
“Not hungry.” 
Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”
“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.
“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”
Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 
You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.
Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 
You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”
His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 
And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 
“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 
He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”
“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.
Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 
“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”
“And it was my birthday!” 
“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.
“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 
“I have work, baby, you know this.” 
“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.
And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”
Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  
It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"
But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”
And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 
You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?
“My birthday was two days ago.” 
He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 
“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 
He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.
“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”
You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 
The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.
You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.
“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 
And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?
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2K notes · View notes
improbable-outset · 2 months
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📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
I think it’s about time I post the SFW version of this HC collection. Just like the NSFW version, I’m going to try and make this as accurate to his character as possible while putting my own input too. I wrote the NSFW back in September so there might be some HC that will be slightly different. My interpretation on Miguel’s character will evolve.
Also since the NSFW alphabet was written with a gn Reader, it’s only fair I do the same here too. Fair warning, going through these head cannons is NOT going to be a walk in the park 😭 just a heads up
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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📄 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
There’s a lot to cover here but I’m going to try my best to summarise this headcanon. Given the fact that Miguel has experienced a complex family dynamic in the comic books, especially from his mother ridiculing him, I think he’ll have a hard time expressing affection
And on top of that, he’s been isolating himself to keep the multiverse in balance. So having receiving affection like that will be foreign to him since it’s not something he grew up with
I mean you could point out that he showed Gabriella devotion and affection as a father because he didn’t want her to experience the same shitty childhood he did growing up
After the dimension collapse, he’s more closed off and reserved. It’ll take a lot of effort to build that trust in someone again and openly express his emotions
Going back to his background now, even after Miguel tried to fix his relationship with his mother, he was always brushed off and was seen as self-centered. This would definitely reflect in his relationship having grown up being misunderstood
📄 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I think this depends heavily on the timeline on when you actually meet him. We’ve all seen the post credit scene in the first movie when he was testing out the gizmo for the first time
I know we've only seen a glimpse of his character but I can’t imagine him being as cold and bleak back then as he is now, after he broke the canon
That being said, I think it would’ve been easier to be friends with him back then. Sure, he would’ve been a sarcastic asshole sometimes (affectionate) but at least he wasn’t closed off and easily irritated as he is now during ATSV
But if you’ve met him after the incident of Gabriellas’s dimensions collapse, let’s just say it’ll be a rocky road. It’ll take a while for him to break that outer shell (do not underestimate when I say a while). I think Jess is probably the only person that could get through to him, possibly Peter too.
It’ll take time. It’ll always take time… you can understand why he’s angry and stressed
📄 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
We can collectively agree that this man is touch starved and I don’t just mean sexually. As much as he hates to admit it
Once you both made your relationship official, it’ll be you that would rest on his chest first whenever you would need comforting. He’s used to being relied on— whether it’s serving his partner or when leading the Spider Society— not the other way around. He can’t bring himself to be dependable on someone just yet
But later on, when he does break down that barrier and swallow his pride for once, you’ll get him to rest on you. Initially he does deny that he needs such comfort but if you coax him enough, he’ll give in
He’ll be stiff at first with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him, but with each passing second he slowly relaxes his muscles under your embrace
Sooner or later, he’s melted under you and if you're lucky, he’ll fall asleep. Poor guy needs a break
📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Deep down, underneath that hard exterior he secretly desires to settle down with someone. He yearns to come home to someone that will be excited to see him and just be present in his life. I haven’t read the comics yet so I’m basing this off ATSV Miguel but, he hasn’t experienced anything like that. I feel like he has fantasised to be in Peter B Parker’s shoes a few times where he can go home to a family
He’s grown accustomed to coming home to an empty apartment with nothing but his AI assistant to keep him company. But just because he’s used to it, doesn’t mean he likes it that way
After he lost Gabriella, the gravity of his loneliness really hit him. Especially given the fact that it wasn’t his official family, it was his variant’s and he was just replacing him
The grief still stayed though. He knows he’s never going to have that family again and now he’s back to everything being hollow
Once he does finally get to settle down I can imagine him struggling to adjust to his new lifestyle, now that he’s living with his partner
At first he’s barely home, always in HQ and busting his ass keeping everything in order because that’s what he’s used to
But after he realises his old habits, he tries to amend himself. He’ll try and put more effort in domestic tasks just to be around you more. Sure, he still has that underlying stress and he’s still getting used to not being cooped up in his office. But that feeling will subside once his habits change
📄 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I think this depends on who’s at fault here, the reason why your relationship has ended. But it’ll highly likely be because of Miguel’s overworking habits and not putting priority on the people he cares about
Sure the multiverse is important but he can get another Spider Person like Jess or Peter to take care of it while he takes a break. But he doesn’t
Throughout your relationship, you try to help him change his habits and his routine so he can live a healthy and more fulfilling life. Even grow a family together if that’s what you want. Unfortunately there’s only so much you can do and everything just feels like one step forward, two steps back— even after you communicate that with him and give him so many chances
He’s probably too blinded by his stress to even realise the harm he’s causing in your relationship. He finally gets that wake up call when he comes home to see you pack your bags
It’s up to you where you want to go from there…
📄 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I know in the comics, he did propose to Dana and as much as I’d love to see him as a husband and be his pretty little housewife, he can’t make that sort of commitment unless he heals from his past
If he wants something solid with a healthy and long lasting marriage, he needs to sort himself out otherwise there will be consequences later on down the line. Unresolved emotional baggage can lead to him being emotionally distant and unexpected outbursts
Even if he doesn’t mean to hurt you, there’s still a part of him that’s still wounded and he’ll bleed onto people that don’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his heated outlet. He needs to be able to be open with his partner if he wants to commit to them
Didn’t expect this sort of turn lol. It will take time but I think Miguel might want to settle down and if he truly wants it to happen, he’ll put in the effort
📄 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Miguel knows that he is a big man and he’s aware of his strength which is why he’s always careful with you. Obviously the last thing he wants is to hurt you physically
However, when it comes to emotional, I think he’s the one that needs to be handled with care. Like I mentioned before, he’s living a post tragedy so it will be hard for him to be vulnerable at first
There are times where he’ll have outbursts but he’ll never in a million years resort to hurting you. He’ll regret even reaching his tipping point afterward though. You don’t deserve that when all you’ve been doing was looking out for him
📄 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I wouldn’t say he’s much of a hugger. Not openly anyways. He’s not good with PDA and would rather show his affection, both physical and emotional, privately
But if you do initiate the hug, he wouldn’t refuse. He probably needs it anyways. He would slowly wrap his arms around you and gently embrace you. I think he does squeeze a little after
With his big broad arms, he can easily wrap around your body. His hugs are warm and they always make you feel secure in his arms. His height makes it easy to envelope you too
📄 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Oh boy….I could see this go either two ways.
One: he’ll either have a barrier around himself that will prevent himself from being emotionally vulnerable to avoid getting hurt. So he would have a hard time expressing his love vocally but will show you through other ways like act of service or being protective over you. He won’t directly say I love you unless you initiate it first.
Or two: he’s so distraught from his grief that the fear of loss still lingers. So he’ll take every chance he can get to remind you that he loves you with all his heart
“Te amo mucho.” “Te quiero.” “Eres el amor de mi vida.”
There’s that underlying fear that he’ll lose you, either by being snatched away from him like Gabriella or you’ll leave him one day. But at least you’ll know how much you mean to him while you were together. That will give him a sense of ease
Either way, both situations are driven by his tragic past. Though personally, I’d prefer the latter
📄 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I think Miguel’s jealousy will stem from the fear of loss again and the desire for stability in the relationship. Sure, he has support from his colleagues from the Society but that’s not the same as receiving devotion and love from a romantic partner
And because of that, he’ll be more vigilant about perceived threats to your relationship, driven by the fear of losing you. The vigilance could exhibit as jealousy if it means preserving that special emotional connection you both share and a tinge possessive over you too. It’s possible that this could be a defence mechanism for him after everything he’s been through
Not saying that he doesn’t trust you or anything, but I know that he will give anybody a death glare if they even look at you the wrong way. He knows his height and physique can be intimidating. This does go hand in hand with security that we will cover more on later
📄 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Awhh my absolute favourite prompt. I know Miguel loves kissing his partner on the forehead, giving his height and all. It’s just so sweet and tender and he’ll probably do it throughout the day when he can’t vocally express his love
He loves watching you try kiss his cheek especially if you’re shorter and stuggling to reach. He just finds it so endearing. He’ll bend a little so you could reach his face and peck his cheek of course. He loves your kisses too
The first time you both shared your first kiss was after the third or forth date. He bent over to reach your eye level while you lifted your head up
He held your face gently and titled his head before he leaned in. God bless Kris Anka for giving this man such smoochable lips by the way
📄 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
You would think that after he lost his daughter, Miguel would be eager to be a father again. He would love to have children of his own.
Yeah…think again. I don’t think he’ll agree that easily. You can’t tell me that the idea of having children again wouldn’t trigger some sort of relapse. He’ll either think he wouldn’t be a good father or he wouldn’t want to replace Gabriella.
Call me bleak, but he just watched his daughter disappear in his arms (and committed omnicide) and is left emotionally traumatised.
Even if we all know he’s not at fault and he was unaware of the consequences at the time, that’s not going to stop him from blaming himself.
Initially he would probably abstain from having children until you came into his life. Seeing your character, not only as a partner but your personality in general, will probably shift his perspective a little
The thought of being the father to your children will probably motivate him into being better for your sake. He can’t imagine having children with anyone else now especially seeing the way you interact with other babies like Mayday
An added bonus if you’re carrying his child. He will place his hand on your bump to feel the baby kick and I think that momentary bond with his unborn baby will resonate with him.
📄 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Morning routines can be pretty peaceful, especially with you around now. Waking up next to you makes everything better for him ten folds
He’s usually the first to wake up (no surprise) and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day
By the time you’re up he’s already in the kitchen. Unless you’re an early riser too. Before you got together, he’s breakfast would consist of instant coffee and maybe a toast if he’s lucky
But now with you around, you make sure he has a proper meal before he starts his day. And he has noticed that he’s more alert and aware after a nutritional breakfast. He’ll always be grateful for that
📄 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Night routines aren’t as blissful though. There are some nights where he wouldn’t be home, probably in another dimension tackling an anomaly again. It comes to no surprise being in a relationship with a superhero
But that doesn’t make it any less lonely for you. Your heart does ache for him and you’re always worried about his safety. Some missions take days and it’s hard to predict when he’ll be back home
But when you finally do get to share a night together, things are more content. You would either spend the evening cooking together or watching a movie. Either way, you’re grateful that he’s safe at home
📄 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Initially, Miguel was reluctant on expressing himself with you. He doesn’t want to put his burden on you even though he constantly remind him that you’re his partner. You’re there to support him, yet he still insists that he’s fine
And because he bottles everything in, his behaviour is effected whenever you’re together. Easily irritated, uncharacteristically quiet and only giving one word answers
He quickly realises that keeping everything in is doing your relationship more harm than good and you’re only getting hurt in the process
Slowly but surely, he eventually opens up, revealing layers of himself to you overtime. This could include sharing his past, his fears and his dreams which builds a deeper connection between the two of you
📄 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
You know, the first time I was introduced to Miguel, I saw him as a ticking time bomb. Ready to burst any second. But it didn’t take long to realise his perspective on things
The only reason he was pissed off in the movie was because he was challenged. Imagine busting your ass trying to keep the multiverse in order so you wouldn’t have to repeat one of the biggest mistakes you’ve done and then someone comes in and puts it at risk
Sure, the way he acted out was uncalled for but like I mentioned before, unresolved emotional baggage
However, when if comes to his partner, he’ll put more effort into being more patient with things. Building that trust and intimacy will take time but it’ll be worth it. When it comes to your relationship, he’ll avoid rushing into expectations and let things happen organically
I know he’ll be good when it comes to respecting boundaries, especially the fact that there will be moments where he would want to be alone to collect himself. He will know you would follow through and it’s only fair that he would respect any of your wishes too
📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I think he’s pretty good when it comes to remembering what you like. I know that later on in the relationship, he’d love to learn more, what makes you tick, the good and the bad, and what will instantly boost your mood. I wouldn’t say he would remember the nitty gritty details about you but he will remember the important things.
It’s the least he can do after everything you’ve done for him and giving him the safe space he needs
However, he’s not very good when it comes to keeping up to date with special events. I’ll get into more details later on so you can understand where I’m coming from
📄 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜
This is going to sound a little corny but Miguel’s favourite memory with you is when he finally built the courage to be emotionally vulnerable with you for the first time
You can imagine how this was a massive step since it’s all foreign to him. He was hesitant when he was venting to you for the first time, with his head resting on your lap and your hands running through his hair
That was when he felt the weight being lifted from his shoulder. Being a leader and having people rely on him for everything was draining but you saw past all of that. You managed to see the man inside him after unravelling the hard exterior. A momentary bliss in his blaring background noise of his life
That was the first time he realised he had found his person. Someone who saw the gray instead of seeing things as black and white
📄 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Being a superhero and a leader of an elite force, Miguel will naturally be protective over you. His commitment to you also means keeping you safe from any danger not just as a civilian but as a devoted lover too
This also ties in to his fear of loss just as I mentioned earlier about his jealousy. Except this extends beyond mere jealousy with a genuine desire to shield you from harm
There are different ways he will express his protective nature such as creating a safe space for you or anticipating potential threats that could put you at risk before it could even happen
📄 𝐓𝐫𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Does this man put effort into your relationship…
You guys might hate me for making him look like a terrible partner. I’m just trying to be realistic here… but I think he won’t be best when it comes to remembering special events like anniversaries, birthdays and whatnot. It’s not that he doesn’t try
This guy is literally dimension hopping throughout his daily routine at work as well as keeping the Spider Society together.
I know that going to different dimensions is probably gonna fuck up with his internal clock and he’ll lose track of the days very easily
I’m not trying to make excuses for him or anything. He’s a busy man and overworked (like I didn’t reiterate that enough). But if it really upsets you, I think you should really communicate with him. Remind him of those special days because I know it’ll probably slip his mind. If he cares about you he should try to make time for you, right?
But on the other hand, he might even surprise you when you least expect it. You’ll probably assume that he’ll be in another dimension that special day and you come home to see him surprise you with gifts and such. I can imagine that happening too
📄 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Wouldn’t really call this ugly but this is a huge flaw that isn’t talked about enough
After the broken canon incident we already know he’s left traumatised but I think he has some untreated PTSD too and he refuses to get the help he needs
He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘broken leader’ (his words maybe) when he has so many people from the Society relying on him (toxic perfectionism?)
Unfortunately for him, if he doesn’t tackle these issues now, it will affect his relationship in the long run
📄 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I think we can all agree that Miguel naturally does put effort in his look, whether he’s single or not. He’s clean shaven and his hair is slick back everyday. So I can imagine a morning routine with him making himself look good. And I think he knows he looks good too
But when it comes to going out on dates and stuff, he will definitely put more effort in his appearance
I can see him asking Lyla for advice on what to do on the first date and how to make himself look more presentable, especially if you’re someone he wants to take seriously. He’s a little rusty with these things but he’s a quick learner too
📄 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I can’t see Miguel having the whole “my partner is my other half” belief. I think it’s an overstatement to him.
But if you’re both compatible enough, he will be aware that you bring out the best in him. Whenever he’s on the verge of overworking or overly stressed out, you’re always there to keep him grounded and give him the pep talk he needs to hear. He’s never been supported and loved while simultaneously reprimanded for his bad habits like this
Without you he realises that he’s a mess but now that you’re here, he has that drive to be better not just for the sake of your relationship, but for himself too. He has somebody special to look forward to seeing after work now
So sure, his partner doesn’t make him ‘whole’ but you do make him a better man and that’s all he needs
📄 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Finally, I can say something wholesome about this man. So I know that he has a personal gym near HQ where he would train and keep in shape.
I have a strong feeling that he enjoys it when his partner watches him work out. It’s a serious ego booster for him. At first he was a little weirded out that you would just stare, it wasn’t something he wasnt used to, but now he loves it when you admire him from afar.
It gives him that extra motivational boost to do better. He loves it when you steal quick kisses between each sets too.
Speaking of which, you can’t tell me that one scene in the movie when he flawlessly destroyed those grenades from the vulture that he didn’t do it with a smirk under his mask. He knew he ate that.
📄 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Something that he wouldn’t like in his partner. I can’t lie, it was pretty hard to pinpoint with this one but after brainstorming, I think I know what he wouldn’t like
This might be controversial since this trope is pretty popular but I don’t think the whole sunshine x grumpy trope will work with him
Maybe in a different universe where he’s not responsible for the stability of the multiverse, something that is a life and death situation, while leading the Spider Society and already has a lot on his plate. But unfortunately that’s his life now. He’s given up too much to stop now
The last thing he needs is a partner who’s overly optimistic and doesn’t see from his perspective. The fate of the multiverse is in his hands after all
He’s been misunderstood his whole life. He needs his partner to just be present and listen to him and not tell him to keep his chin up when he’s not in the right state of mind for it. He needs someone who understands the gravity of his responsibilities
📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I’ve mentioned this before but I’ll say it again. Miguel suffers from insomnia and gets repetitive nightmares of the multiverse collapsing one day. Sometimes his mind constantly relives the moment of his daughter fading away in his arms.
He just can’t get a rest from that.
But after being with you, they do eventually calm down. Listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, nestling in his arms or on his chest really helps calm his nerves.
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Call me Miguel’s psychologist the way I yap about his fucked up mental state. I wanna write Miguel having some sort of melt down while reader comforts him but I know no one wants to read that 💀 properly will post it on ao3
Here’s the NSFW version if you’re interested
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @patchesofwork @monarchberrysblog @miguelbaby @swiftyangx12 @tarjapearce @smokeywhalee @lazyjellyfish300 @ghost-lantern @jadeloverxd @scaleniusrm @wandasfifthwife @ultravioletrayz @theorphicangel
Anyways, I’m logging off and going to bed
- Ayrus xox
459 notes · View notes
dreamingofbucky · 10 months
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THE REPORT
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Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)
summary: You failed to report to Miguel after a mission and he makes it a living hell for you. to teach you a lesson, he makes you meet him after everyone's gone home and has a special punishment just for you.
tags/content warnings: slow burn til it isn't, grumpy!miguel, cockwarming like that's the whole plot, consensual smut. p in v. fangs. praise kink, size kink. age gap (reader is 20, mig is almost 30 idk). reader is a sister figure to gwen.
Word Count: 6.1k
author’s note: not beta read. this was so fun to write! hope you enjoy <3
-
Living in Spider Society was chaotic, but you loved it. You enjoyed it so much, but there were times you liked to visit other universes and even your own. You haven’t been back to your own universe in months due to work though. 
You’ve been to Gwen and Hobie’s ones countless times, even stayed multiple nights. Albeit you being a few years older than them, about to turn 21, they were your closest friends in Spider Society. They got your humor, they understood your mess, and they’d fight for you. 
With Jessica Drew being older and busy with her own relationship, and then Peter B Parker with MJ and Mayday, you were glad you had these Spiderteens to hang with. You felt like an older sister to them sometimes which helped with the whole identity crisis you had the first month moving to Earth-928 and feeling so alone. 
And then there was Miguel. He was technically your boss and he was so cold, so standoffish toward you. Even after he recruited you, you’ve seen him less and less around missions unless you had to go to his office to report any difficulties with anomalies. You felt miniscule under his gaze most times. But then… even as much as you hated to admit how he made you feel though at random times when you felt his gaze linger a little longer than normal. 
It’s probably been a week since the last time you had to go up to his office to relay a report, yet the grumpy man’s eyes were everywhere in Earth-928. You felt his eyes everywhere. Your spider senses went haywire whenever you felt him near. But it was more than just a tingle to you. It was a strange feeling you couldn’t pin down. But you brushed it off anytime that specific feeling came around. 
You did have some hard times though in this new universe you called home. You had your own Peter back in your own universe until he passed. It was your canon event, after all. Something you still hated thinking about. 
It was hard at first acclimating to Spider Society seeing so many Peter Parkers. Yours wasn’t Spider-Man, since you were the one in your universe, but the name was hard to adjust to hearing all the time, every day at work. That was the one thing you and Gwen had in common which was why you both were glued to the hip most of the time like real sisters. 
Some might say it’s just trauma bonding, but you did ultimately feel like Gwen was like a younger sibling to you at this point. And no one really understood the hard adjustment to Spider Society like she did. It was comforting. 
“You’re thinking again,” Gwen says, pulling you out of your thoughts. Her pink-blonde hair fell in front of her face as she busied herself with a journal. She liked to journal a lot more recently ever since she’s been spending more time with Miles. 
You remembered her mentioning when she saw him after a year apart that she found his own journal of doodles. It was so obvious the crush she had on him, but you didn’t push or ask any questions. 
A smile comes to your face as you see her doodling nonsense. You couldn’t admit that she wasn’t the best artist, but you let her have her vice whenever Miles was busy and off on different missions or even back in his universe to finish school. His parents still didn’t know he was Spider-Man, so he wasn’t around Spider Society as often as Gwen would like. 
“No,” you counter. “Just letting my mind rest. Had a long week.” 
Gwen’s bright eyes drifted up from the journal before a smile etched on her face. “Did you send your latest report to Miguel yet?” 
Your spine stiffened at the sound of his name. “No, why? Was I supposed to? I thought Hobie was in charge of that this week?” 
Sometimes Gwen, Hobie, and you would rock-paper-scissors whoever did the reports for the week. This week was supposed to be Hobie’s. 
Gwen shakes her head. “No, I clearly remember Hobie mentioning it’d be you. He’s not even around today.” 
“Oh,” you plainly stated. She was right, he wasn’t in this universe today. Had some protest to join back in his own universe. He invited you and Gwen, but you both wanted to be around in case you were needed. You urged Gwen to even spend the day with Miles, but he apparently had something to do with his parents. 
Gwen whistles. “Miguel is gonna be looking for you then.”
Your eyes widened at that. “Fuck, no he can’t. I didn’t even prepare anything! We went two days ago, how am I supposed to remember each detail of what we did? Fuck, I’m going to find Hobie and–” 
“Chill!” Gwen laughs. “Just go see him and let him know. Hey, maybe bringing an empanada will lessen the blow.” 
You rolled your eyes at that before standing up. The room you both were in was quiet and not many spider-people were around. Gwen and you liked to come in here to either debrief, talk about Miles, or just sit in silence while she doodled and you thought. 
You cherished her, you cherished every one of your spider friends. Well, except now with Hobie. Because now you’re for sure going to get a scolding from the boss man. 
“Good luck,” Gwen sing-songed as you shook your head and laughed. But inside you were dying, your heart was starting to race as you left the room. You made your way through the building until you got to the elevator. The ride up was short and you even forgot the empanada. 
Your fingers laced together at the front as the doors opened and you walked on the floor where his office was. It was unusually quiet. And darker than normal.
There wasn’t any big anomaly that had to be contained today or else you’d know. So where was everyone?
By the time you reached his office, you craned your neck up to see his platform high up and he was there standing, staring at a screen. He hadn’t noticed you yet, due to his inability to have spider senses, and you take your time looking at him. 
His broad shoulders were facing you and you noticed his hands on his slim waist. You lick your lips at the sight. It wasn’t something you were proud of. 
Call it hormones. You closed yourself off to any romantic flings or relationships the moment you moved here, but you still had those urges. 
And they so happened to heighten whenever you were around the one person you shouldn’t have those urges around. Your attraction to your boss wasn’t something you expected, especially with him being a few years older than you… okay, he was definitely older. He never mentioned his age, but you overhead he was probably closer to 30. Which made him almost a decade older than you. 
Your thoughts drift to a week ago when you saw him in passing. Spider-Woman was briefing you for a mission when he caught on to the conversation and halted his steps. He interrupted that conversation to scold you, letting Jess know that you wouldn’t be joining her that day. 
You didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like the anomaly wasn’t someone you couldn’t handle. But you had to follow his orders and ultimately stayed back while he and the other Spiders went. Even Gwen and Hobie went. 
That was a low blow on Miguel’s part. You’d at least thought he’d make the non-teens go on a mission together. You can’t remember the last time you went on a mission where Miguel was present. It felt like some days he didn’t even want you around. 
As you think about Miguel, you hear shuffling up above you and you blink, brushing away the thoughts and focusing on what you had to do. 
You shoot out a web to his platform and bring yourself up, landing on your feet. He finally turns at the noise and gives you a side-eye. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks. 
Your fingers find each other again as you fumble for a response. Here goes. “I-I had that report to tell you about. I thought Hobie was going to give it, sorry for the delay.” 
His shoulders rise and fall with each breath before he turns around. His hand goes in the air behind him, waving off the screens he was just looking at. You caught a glimpse of another universe and Spider people shooting webs. 
He had an eye on everything. 
“That was supposed to be given directly after you returned from it,” he scoffs. He takes a step toward you and you try to hold your ground. Your breathing increases and his lips twitch. 
“I know! Just a simple miscommunication, that’s all,” you try to laugh it off, but his stern face is anything but finding it funny. 
“Do you know what I think?” He simply asks. The hairs on your arms stand as you look at him. His eyes smooth over your face, looking all over. They stop for a brief moment a little lower, on your lips, for more than a second. 
“What do you think?” You ask breathlessly. 
He takes another step closer, now inches away. He’s so tall compared to you, he’s basically caging you in at this moment without even knowing. You gulp. 
“You’re supposed to be an example to them.” 
“What?” 
“You heard me,” he grimaces. “You’re older than them, yet you seem to act their age. It’s evident in the way you completely forgot to send in that report on time.” 
“It happened once! And by accident! Like I said, it was because–” 
“Take responsibility,” he spits. His hand goes to his hip and now you’re on the verge of hyperventilating. You didn’t expect a lecture when you came here. You expected Miguel to throw a fit, yelling at you, and then banishing you from his office within minutes. But you’re still here. 
“Okay, I will,” you finally state. You feel deflated from the conversation already and you’re starting to get impatient at his obvious anger. Or annoyance. He seemed to be either angry or annoyed by you everytime you’re around. 
“Okay, let’s hear it.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his elbows brushing against your chest in the process with how close he is. You take a deep breath. 
“I’m taking responsibility for not giving you the report on time. I apologize, boss.” 
He nods before turning on his heel and returning to his screen. You’re left confused and you even raise a brow at the odd reaction. 
“Don’t you want the report now?” You ask, kicking your heel at the ground. 
“No, not right now. I’m busy. Come back later.” 
“But I had plans with Gwen,” you start, but he snaps his neck back at you and his eyes glow red. You stop talking immediately. 
“Come. Back. Later.” He hisses, fangs showing. 
“Right, will do,” you stutter out before attempting to run off that platform. Your two left feet make you trip and fall, making you have to shoot out a web to catch yourself before you planted face first on the floor below. 
You didn’t dare to look up and see if Miguel saw that, you left as soon as your feet hit the ground. 
By the time you went to regroup with Gwen, she wasn’t where you left her. It took you a moment to walk around the building before you found her outside, sitting and staring at the scenery. You climbed the structure she was on, upside down, before shooting out webs to anchor you, and lowering yourself and sitting next to her. 
“How was it?” She asks, looking at you. 
“Not so well,” you confess. 
“Really? What happened?” Her eyes widen. 
You shrug. “Not much, actually. I apologized and took responsibility for not giving it to him on time.” 
“But? Your face looks like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in there,” she laughs. You nudge her shoulder with yours and you frown. 
“Yeah, there’s a but. He didn’t want the report. Told me to go back later tonight to give it to him.” 
“That’s great!” Gwen smiles. 
“How’s that great?” You ask, raising a brow. You decide to look out in front of you both and see the vast city before you. Although you’re upside down, you never get tired of the view. 
“Because you have time to do the report and then give it to him, duh. You don’t have to verbally give it to him on the spot.” 
“I don’t know,” you finally breathe. You place your palms behind you and lean back. Gwen does the same, mimicking you. 
“You know, Jess mentioned that he’s a big softie under all that anger and macho-ness.” 
“What?” You laugh, wondering why the hell she’s steering the conversation this way. 
Gwen nods with a smile curling on the tips of her lips. “Yep. It kind of reminds me of those stupid sayings where if he makes fun of you, he likes you.” 
Your body stiffens and you shake your head. “Gwen! What are you talking about? Miguel?” 
There is nothing behind the reasons why he’s cold to you or why he’s made it seem like you aren’t worth being around. If he had any inkling of attraction toward you, you’d know. Spider sense or not. 
“See tonight, then! And please let me know. I kind of made a bet with Jess… I have to win.”
You groan. “What?! You guys are betting on the most impossible thing. There is nothing there. He hates me, but like actually. There is no underlying meaning.” 
“Sure,” Gwen laughs. “Anyways, Miles said he’s coming back tomorrow so we might have to raincheck on that girls night.” 
“I thought that was tonight?” 
“I figured we’d have to move it to tomorrow night the moment you mentioned Miguel needing to see you tonight. He’ll probably make you handwrite that damn report all night.” 
You lean your head back and stare at the city above you. “Fine, raincheck. But nothing is going on, you’ll see.” 
“Hmm,” is all Gwen says before you shake your head and laugh. You both stay watching the city in silence for a little longer before you go on with your day, dreading for the night to come. 
***
“Miguel?” You call out into the darkness of his office. His platform is dark, with no sign of life from him or anyone. 
Suddenly, you hear a fizzle in the air and then Lyla pops up into thin air. You almost yelp, hand flying to your chest. 
“Hey! Miguel let me know for you to meet him in his quarters.” Lyla floats around you, disappearing and reappearing at random spots. Her pink glasses lower on the bridge of her nose as she takes a good look at you. 
“His place?” You repeat, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. You’ve never been called to his quarters. He had a place of course in the city, but it was known that he’d stay multiple times a week at the floor of the building that acted as a penthouse for when he needed to be on call for anyone. 
You were terrified that you did something else wrong and that’s why he decided to have this meeting in a more private location. You gulp, looking at Lyla. 
“Don’t look so scared!” She laughs. “Come on!” She yells before disappearing and reappearing a few yards away closer to the elevator. 
You follow with no argument before you both get into the elevator and it skyrockets a few more floors up. The elevator dings and you see Miguel in normal clothes, not his suit. It didn’t occur to you that he can wear something else besides his suit. You’ve never seen him without the suit, so this was weird. 
Miguel hears your steps and he looks, a look of concern on his face. You instantly cross your arms over your chest, as if trying to hide yourself from his gaze. His eyes drift from your toes to your eyes before he looks at Lyla who appears in front of him. 
“She’s here, boss,” she sing-songs before Miguel grunts. 
“Thanks, Lyla. Now pause all updates unless it’s an emergency. Forward any updates to Jessica if there are any.” 
“Only if you say it,” Lyla teases, twirling around Miguel’s body. 
Miguel groans, rolling his eyes. “Lyla, do it.” 
“Nuh uh, I need to hear it boss,” she pushes. This makes you giggle at the encounter but you shut your mouth as Miguel gives you a stern look. 
“Please, Lyla,” he finally says with a bite to his words. 
“Already done, boss, but I loved hearing that,” Lyla says before evaporating into thin air. The silence fills the room as you stand there, rocking back and forth on your heels. 
“Where’s your suit?” He finally asks, heading to the kitchen. You follow blindly, unsure what else to do. 
“I-uh, didn’t think I’d need it.” You looked down at your sweats and long sleeve, wondering if you should’ve looked more presentable. It was past dinnertime, way past that to be precise, the sky was dark outside his floor to ceiling windows, so it didn’t make sense to wear anything else. You wanted to feel cozy too. The softness of the clothes calmed you a bit with the anxiety of what Miguel might say. 
You tried to write the report earlier, but your mind was a mess. You’d have to apologize for that again you were sure of it. 
“You didn’t, just wanted to ask,” Miguel chuckles as he reaches inside his fridge and pulls out a water bottle. He turns to you and raises it, looking at you with a questionable face. You nod as he tosses you it and you open it, taking a few sips. You hear the crack of his own and his gulping. 
You didn’t realize how much of a cottonmouth you had until you started drinking the cold water. 
“So the report, do you have it?” He asks, heading toward you. 
“About that…” you start. His jaw clenches and his eyes go red for a moment before they go back to the pretty brown. 
“You didn’t do it?” 
You shake your head, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “No, I-I tried to. I swear, I can do it right now, just let me get my computer or a pen and paper.” 
That’s when he laughs again. You’ve never heard him laugh before. It was like music to your ears. Your heart picks up its pace at the sound and the way his eyes crinkle at the motion. His teeth bare with the laugh and you notice the fangs popping out. 
An inappropriate thought of him sinking them into you comes to the forefront of your mind and you suck in your breath and clench your thighs together. He pinches his brows, looking at you at the sudden sound you swore he wouldn’t be able to hear. 
“Ven aquí,” he beckons as he waves you over to the other end of the place where a living room holds a few couches. The place isn’t decorated and it looks like it was just created as something to show, not live in. He sits on the edge of the couch and you walk over to him, keeping a few inches away. 
You can practically feel his body heat emanating and your body betrays you as your knees get wobbly and you have to clear your throat. You curse yourself for having these reactions toward your boss in his private place. 
Lyla couldn’t even interrupt you both as much as you’d like. You didn’t want to be scolded. You wanted to take the punishment of finishing the report in front of Miguel and then go home.
“Your heart is racing so fast,” he murmurs, causing you to gasp. Heat pools in your belly and your cheeks start to burn. He cocks his head to the side before sighing and running a hand through his hair. His biceps flex under his shirt and you bite your lip. 
“It’s just hot in here,” you lie, fanning yourself to prove a point. 
“The AC is on,” he counters. 
“Of course,” you squeak. You try so hard to lower your heart rate, but it’s not helping being so close to him. 
“Do you want to know what else I can observe?” He asks, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. Your ears are pounding as you intake a sharp breath. 
“What?” You whisper. 
He rises, getting close to you. He lifts a hand and traces a finger underneath your chin, causing you to tremble and your lips quiver. “I can smell the way your sweat is protruding. And it’s not from fear.” 
“Oh,” you whisper again. 
He bares his teeth, fangs glinting. “I can also smell you to the point where it’s driving me fucking crazy right now.” 
“Smell me? Like my sweat and my scent?” You raise a brow. You’re not sure where he’s getting at this. Is he trying to intimidate you? Cause it’s working. 
“I can smell your arousal,” he chuckles, getting closer to brush your chest with his body. You widen your eyes. 
“Oh, uh, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, not knowing what else to say. You try to clench your thighs together, but that doesn’t help with the growing feeling between them. Your pussy is basically singing for him to touch it. You do your best to push down those thoughts, it’s utter humiliation that he can sense those things. 
His thumb brushes your bottom lip and your knees almost give out at the gentle touch. It’s all confusing you to the point where you’re not even sure this is happening. 
“You look confused,” he mutters. 
“I-uh, I’m not sure what’s going on. I thought I was going to be lectured. I thought you’d send me away to finish the report or something,” you admit. 
“You won’t be going on any missions anytime soon, how’s that for a lecture?” 
Your heart drops at this. “What? How is that fair? I’m not the only one who missed a report, I’m sure!” 
His hand drops from your face and you miss the feeling of it instantly. You stare at him and your anger is starting to increase. Scrunching your brows together, you exhale loudly. 
“It’s completely fair for the way it was handled.” 
It wasn’t wise for you to keep talking back to your boss, especially being alone with him. There wouldn’t be anyone around to save you if he started one of his rage arguments. 
“The report can be done now, how about that?” he finally breathes. He retreats back to the couch and leans back, thighs spreading. His frame is large and your eyes immediately go to his core and then his crotch. You gulp, knowing you shouldn’t be looking in that region. 
He says your name sternly and you look up before seeing a smirk pass his lips. 
You shake your head and straighten your posture. “Of course, boss. Where do you want me to do it?” You ask, looking around for a desk or maybe he wanted you to complete it on the kitchen island. You still needed a paper and pen or a computer. 
He makes a slapping sound and you turn toward it, seeing him slapping his thigh. You stare at him incredulously. 
“Miguel?” You whisper. His eyes are no longer the light brown you remember from moments before. They've gone a little darker and red is seeping into the sclera. You gulp. 
“Aquí,” he states firmly. You oblige, getting closer and bumping your knee with his before you stand in between his spread thighs. 
Your heart continues to race and you’re surprised you haven’t passed out from it. He pats his thighs again before he leans up for a moment, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you in so easily. He lifts you up like you weigh nothing before you’re straddling his thighs, legs on either side of his. 
It happens so quickly all you can do is gasp and then balance yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders. His very broad, strong shoulders. Your fingers clasp them tightly and you swallow. 
“Isn’t that better?” he whispers. You bite your lip, not sure how to respond. His hand lifts to brush your cheek before pushing strands of hair behind your ear. The movement is delicate and completely opposite of how Miguel holds himself in public. You’ve seen him swat a butterfly once that wasn’t even bothering him and his grumpy persona is all you know. 
“Tell me,” he demands. You part your lips. 
“Yes,” you finally admit. His hands move to your waist and press hard, enough for you to gasp. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and he hisses. 
“What are we doing?” You ask, courage finally bubbling out of your chest. 
“I’ve noticed things about you, reina,” he whispers, holding you tighter. 
“You have?” 
He nods. “The way you look at me. Your heart races when you’re near me. Your pussy craves my touch, I can smell it everytime.” 
“What? No, it’s not–” you scream but he pulls you closer on his thighs until your core brushes against his. You feel something right under your pussy and you realize it’s his erection. 
Your hips instinctively roll at the feeling and you groan, biting your lip. 
“See? You can’t deny the way your body is wanting me. I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it too. That I don’t feel the same way.” 
“Miguel,” you squirm underneath his hold but that only makes your hips roll even more into his erection and it sparks something in you. It feels so good and a moan leaves your lips. He grunts, fangs hitting his bottom lip for a moment. A slight red dot forms from the incision. 
“Besame,” he asks, smoothing his hands up to your torso, over your arms and then to your cheeks. You feel intoxicated from his touch. 
He wants you to kiss him. You can’t deny that, you’re already so far gone now. Without a delay, you nod and lean in, crashing your lips to his. A moan escapes your lips while a hiss leaves his. You feel a slight prick from his fangs and you gasp. 
“Sorry, reina,” he says, licking your bottom lip. 
You take a few deep breaths, lifting a hand from his shoulder to run it through his hair. You don’t do it gently, call it payback for the fang bite. But it only rouses him more, your fingers grasping harshly at his strands. He pulls you in then again to kiss you and then pushes his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with fervor and you let him. Your hips begin to roll over his erection and it hits the spot you need it to. 
“Take these off,” he slaps your ass and hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your sweats. You nod before lifting yourself and he pulls them down. You shift awkwardly until your sweats are off and then you’re straddling him with just your panties. His calloused palms touch your thighs and he groans. 
“Fuck, your skin is so soft.” He murmurs before smoothing his hands over your thighs before moving to your panties. 
“Do you want me to take these off too?” 
He shakes his head, lifting a hand. You see a talon come out from his finger and he’s quick to cut the fabric of your panties. You gasp and he smiles. 
“Hey!” You yelp. 
“My turn,” he moves on, moving his hands to pull down his own pants. You have to lift yourself again, your panties falling from the motion. You watch as he slides his pants down enough until they’re past his knees. You finally look down and gasp, not expecting him to be bare underneath. No boxers, just his erected cock ready for you. A glint of pre-cum is at the tip and your mouth salivates at the thought. 
His hand goes to his cock and he starts to move it up and down. He hisses through the movements before he licks his hand and continues the motions. You widen your eyes. 
“Are you ready for your report?” He breaks your thoughts. 
You lock eyes with him. “T-the report? Right now?”
He nods. “Sit on my cock, reina, and give me the damn report.” 
Your cheeks burn and you look around the room, wondering if this is some kind of dream. You lift your hand to your other arm and pinch. It hurts, so you know you’re not dreaming. 
He’s still fisting his cock as he waits patiently. His eyes are redder than before and he licks his lips. 
“Miguel,” you whisper. 
“You’re so wet for me already, I know it,” he laughs. 
He wasn’t wrong, but your brain was turning into mush. You muster the courage to finally do as he says. You lift yourself enough to hover over his core and his hand moves from his cock to your pussy and you gasp from the feeling of his fingers running along your wet folds. 
“Fuck, you’re going to be a tight fit. But I can’t warm you up, I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 
“Wait, why?” 
“Another punishment, now sit on my cock before I change my mind about everything.” 
You didn’t want to know what else he planned for your punishment and you knew it wouldn’t be nearly as enticing as this. He’d probably make you work at the cafeteria or some shit. 
“Okay,” you meep, finally lowering yourself onto his tip. You hiss at the feeling of his wet tip entering you. 
“Come on, you got this,” he coos as his hands move to your waist to help lower you down. Inch by aching inch, you lower until you’re full of him. His girth practically splits you in half and you bite your lip, holding in a cry. 
“You’re so pretty like this, sitting on my lap with my cock stuffed inside you.” 
You let out a deep breath. “You’re so big, Miguel, I need a moment.” 
“Take your time, you’re not leaving anytime soon.” 
Your heart skips a beat at that thought. It takes a moment for you to adjust to his length before you’re ready to roll your hips. It feels like the world has flipped upside down and you’re in heaven. Sparks run all along your spine and throughout your body. 
His cock twitches inside you and you start to roll your hips, closing your eyes. 
“Open your eyes,” he demands. You whip them open and stare at him. Your hands dig into his shoulders again as you roll your hips again, causing him to groan and tighten his hold on your waist. 
“Now, the report,” he repeats. 
“Oh, yeah, uh–” you mumble out. Your mind can’t concentrate on that damn report as your pussy clenches around his cock. He stills your movements. 
“We can only continue if you start talking,” he says. 
That’s when you realize what he’s doing. He’s not going to take you off his lap until you’re done with the report. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to handle that. Your orgasm is already rising to its peak with the small movements. He’s so big, hitting your g-spot perfectly. Each roll of your hips sends you closer and closer to your release. 
“Okay, well,” you start. “Hobie and I were able to handle the Vulture from Earth-673. It was good and–ah–we got him contained.” You say, biting your lip to keep from coming. 
“And?” Miguel presses, lifting his own hips to drive his cock a little more into you. An exasperated pant leaves your mouth at this. He’s cruel. 
“And that was it, that was all we did. Nothing else happened,” you mumbled out quickly. 
“That’s not what I saw on the screens,” he hums. He moves a hand to roam down between your cores. His thumb presses gently against your clit and you clench his cock before whimpering. 
“Miguel!” 
“What else happened?” 
You try so hard to think back to the mission that happened days ago. You curse Hobie for not sending the report or reminding you that you had to do it. 
That’s when you remember something. You smile. “Gwen was handling that train cart that fell off the platform and then Hobie and I focused on the people on the ground. We got them all.” 
“And what else?” Miguel starts to circle his thumb over your clit at a faster pace. You groan and hang your head back. His movements stop. 
“Miguel, please,” you squirm, trying to get back that friction against your clit by rubbing yourself over his abdomen. He hisses and shakes his head. 
“You forgot about the canon event you didn’t stop,” he reminded you. 
That didn’t seem like important information to tell him. You all worked hard to prevent canon disruptions. It was an obvious task that didn’t need to be vocalized. He raises a brow. You take a deep breath and nod. 
“Y-yeah,” you mumble. “We allowed the canon event to happen successfully.” 
“Good girl,” Miguel coos before placing his thumb back on your clit and his other hand grasps your waist tight enough and he lifts you enough to slam you back down on his cock. You scream, falling on him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your hands bury in his long hair. 
“So good for me,” he whispers in your ear as you roll your hips some more, chasing that high. 
“I’m close,” you whine. You feel his lips graze your neck and before you know it, you feel pain and little stabs at your skin. His fangs sink into your skin and that only causes you to moan loudly and squeeze his cock even more. He grunts before removing his fangs from your neck. 
“You did so well for me, you can come whenever you want to, reina,” he whispers. And before you know it, both hands go to your waist and he’s lifting you up at an alarming pace and slamming you down on his cock. 
You’re both panting loudly, the only sounds in the room are your cores slapping and your pussy drenching him in your arousal. 
“Fuck! I’m going to come,” you whimper. 
“Come all over my cock, baby,” he stutters as his pace of slamming you down grows sloppy. You nod and lift your head to look at him. His eyes are less red and his features have seemed to go a little softer. 
Before you know it, you’re screaming and coming over his cock. He doesn’t stop though, he continues to jut into you until his hips still and his hands shake on your waist. You feel the warmth spread inside you and you know he just released inside you. 
“Fuck,” he sighs. 
You lay your forehead against his chest and his hands are soft to the touch as he rubs your bare back underneath your shirt. You shudder underneath his touch, but you try to calm your breathing. Your pussy clenches around his softening dick and he groans. 
“I can get off,” you whisper, attempting to lift your hips, but his hold on you tightens. 
“No, not yet.” 
“Why?” You giggle. You lift your head and you’re nose to nose with Miguel. His eyes dance around your face before he answers. 
“I think you need to repeat the report once more.” 
“What?!” You scowl. 
“I’ve got you here now, what’s the problem? You can’t repeat the same thing you just said? Or are you too cockdrunk to think of anything?” 
You didn’t want to tell him that he’s right. The last few minutes are a blur and the mission of a few days ago is at the back of your mind already. You whimper as his hands lower to your ass and squeezes. You try to lift your hips again, but he slams you back down on him. The friction only causes your arousal to rise again. 
Fuck, you’re never going to leave are you? 
His erection starts to grow again in you and he smiles like a jerk. 
“The report, repeat it. If you stumble once, you’re starting over. I have all night.” 
You roll your hips, fully drowning in him and obeying his every command. You’re too far gone at this point to fight. 
You nod, biting your lip before starting the report again. You mumble a few times and you curse yourself as he takes a moment to lift you and slam you on his cock a few times. You scream his name relentlessly before having to start the report over again. 
You don’t get off his lap until the sun peeks from the horizon and filters through the penthouse. 
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Honey Bee on the Wall
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reder
Tags: nsfw, smut, gentle to rough sex, whining, mirror sex, wall sex, size difference
Word count: 1k
A/N: Smut commission for a very cultured commissioner. Wall sex is amazing!
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"Oh no. Not the puppy dog pout. You know I can't resist that."
"Come on sugar, please? Just once, I promise I won't drop you." Miguel put his hands together as he knelt few spaces away from you on the bed. He'd been a little odd lately, always looking over at you when you were alone, then away, then back at you. You figured he was pent up and yeah, his raging hard dick spoke for itself.
There was something specific your boyfriend wanted this time. "Where did you even get the idea to fuck me while holding me against the wall?"
"From Ben actually. I heard him talking about doing that with his girlfriend. Sounded pretty fun. Plus I've kinda been looking at ways to use my powers when we fuck. Much as I know you enjoy it, and I do too, I can't always be tying you up." Bondage seemed like a logical thing to try with someone who could shoot webs, that was one of the first things you tried with him.
Images of you being fully restrained and suspended from the celling flashed through your mind, not aiding the pulsing and wetness gathering between your legs, "But I like it when you tie me up Miguel."
"I know, I know but... I wanna try something new. Come on, pretty please." His full cute power came out as he pressed his lips together and crawled between you legs then looked up at you.
"Oh my fucking-" You had to turn and walk away to gather your thoughts, "Oh no. Not the puppy dog pout. You know I can't resist that." Miguel let out a small chuckle as he followed you, constantly invading your field of vision, "Fine! Fine! We can try it. You win, just stop with the puppy dog pout."
His grin really brightened up the room.
Miguel took you by the hand and walked you to the nearest wall in your bedroom, which just so happened to be on the opposite side of the mirror. He gave this a lot of thought. "I think we can compromise a little. Let me lift you up for a second." Not long after he did you felt the familiar pull and taunt of his webbing against your thighs and his hand around your wrists, "Look at how pretty you look."
When you saw yourself in the mirror you could see everything so clearly, your flustered face, your full breasts and stiff nipples, your pussy on full display and Miguel's fingers moving down towards it. He kept his eyes on you while you looked at yourself in the mirror, the way his fingers revealed your puffy clit and rolled tight little circles around it, the way his fingers pressed and pushed inside of your wanting pussy. "Hold on. This- this is embarrassing."
"And getting fucked like a sexdoll while hanging off the celling isn't? I want you to see how sexy you look when I'm fucking you." Just one of his fingers felt like two, almost three of your own, "Come on, look. Look at how well your pussy takes my finger. I think it wants more. I think it wants this." He moved himself in front of you, now his messy hair, big, muscular back, his ass and the bottom of his heavy balls was all you could see in the mirror. But what you felt was the broad, angry, leaky head of his cock pushing slowly past your entrance. "Okay so far?"
"I think so." But you weren't gonna be for long, not if he kept looking at you so softly while all you could see was your own horny face reflected at you. You'd never seen the face you made when he'd push inside of you, the way your lips opened or the way your eyes fluttered.
"You're tighter then usual. Knew you'd like it like this, seeing yourself getting fucked by me. Don't look away sweetheart, promise me you'll look until the end." Miguel puffed against your neck, big hands holding your hips, yours draping over his shoulders for that extra balance.
Rolling his hips forward he you felt his cock practically split you open, slowly sinking himself deeper and deeper into your wanting pussy. Small moans began to turn louder, longer, broken up as he finally bottomed out. "God Miguel. You make me so full."
"You feel good when you're stretched around me don't you? That's all for you." He pulled out equally as slow but the next thrust made you gasp and fall short of breath. He smacked inside you hard in such rapid pace. You can hardly breathe as you watch yourself get fucked by him, seeing it and feeling it the same time. "Good girl, good girl keep your eyes forward. I'm gonna fuck your orgasm right out of you."
Out of you? And his into you by how hard his balls kept smacking against your ass cheeks. In this position with your legs webbed open to the wall you didn't dare look down. If you did it would surely make you go crazy, this was already driving you crazy.
Your pussy starts gripping around him harder, almost refusing to let him go despite his relentless movement. The sight of your face on the verge of an orgasm combined with the loud squelching noises and wet skin slapping together urged you towards your climax quicker than you thought. Your cunt clenched and flooded all over him, egging him on to go faster. The stimulation was getting to be too much, one orgasm done and another beginning, "Yes, another, you'll come again. Come for me, baby, come for me!"
The next orgasm takes all the air from your lungs, making your vision go spotty and then white. Miguel kissed your neck in appreciation as his own body shuddering with release, painting your insides white with his hot load. Your pussy milked him of every drop of it.
The sticky mix of cum leaks and flows from you when he finally pulls out and takes you into his arms, "Open your eyes beautiful, it's okay now, I'm here, I've got you." You opened your eyes, vision blurry but clear just enough to see him press a firm kiss to your forehead. You melted against his body, murmuring an apology for the cum making puddle on the floor. "Takes two to make that mess. I'll clean it up don't worry, you sleep for a bit alright?" Miguel let out a deep rumble from inside his chest, the sound warming you up from the inside out, finally causing your heavy eyelids to close.
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yourlocalstranger123 · 10 months
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(I think my humor is broken from how I'm slightly laughing—)
You'll just have to read the whole thing to find out 😊
Part 1
Red: Miguel
@diegojeanne @one-green-frog
Note!!!!!: PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISS ANYTHING TO WARN 😭😭😭😭😭
Warnings: slightly yandere/possessive Miguel? fluff to slight angst to fluff ehe and its like pretty long (I dare you to read the whole thing 😈) also has some cuss words.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°♤°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° •°|MERMAID! MIGUEL|°• °•°•°•°•°•°•°•°♡°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
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You didn't expect to get slapped in the face by his tail. Honestly! What was his problem? He was the one who was at fault for going into the fish trap you set.
You stood there, trying to cover your mouth from laughing at the situation while Miguel looked like he was about to smack the sh—t out of you.
"How did you even g- get, pfft—...get trapped"
You slightly laughed, small tears forming in your eyes from holding back. Miguel just dead-panned. He rolls his eyes, asking you to help him already. You come back with a scissor in your hand as you cut the this ropes of the net off.
The net wrapped around his body tightly, so some of it left some marks. He stretched his back, finally going back to the water as his head was still up from the water. You grabbed some fish that was given to you a few hours ago before he got caught. You already grilled it, so you just gave it to him....
Miguel didn't grab it. Just staring at you as if expecting something. "Here. Take it?" You said. Slightly frustrated and wondering why he isn't taking it. He frown, forming a small pout as he just turned around and ignored you. You were dumb founded but remembered something,,
He watches you cook the fish and take a bite out of it. You offered one to him as he took a bite out of it. After a few minutes, he tugged your sleeves. Looking at you as if waiting for you to feed him again. Sighing, you broke off a piece and fed it to him.
Did he....want you to feed him again??? You quietly chuckled at the fact as you looked at him, still pouting. You ripped off a piece, putting it on your palm as you put your hand in front of his face. He tilted his head, still having a toothy frown, but he quickly ate it from your palm, feeling him chewing on it.
It was getting dark. You stood up and wiped away the sand on your pants. Miguel tugged your sleeve, "where are you going?" He asked. Not wanting you to leave him just yet...
You explained you needed to go back home and sleep, but Miguel just said to sleep here. But of course, you don't want sand in your hair right now, so you say no. Miguel just frowned, he launched himself on you, not letting go.
As he hugged your waist (no matter if his fingers are not touching or is), he snuggled your back as he begged, demanded for you to stay.
You did not get any sleep as you let half of your body sink into the ocean, but the sand underneath was high enough for you to sit as Miguel let his head on your lap. Sometimes, you wonder why you go for such lengths for a Merman. Your legs are literally shivering and trembling when you can finally get out of the water.
Miguel took note of this so lately, Miguel has been on land with his fish tail. He's been trying to suprise you when you were in your small house, you heard a knock. Maybe it was from a far away rich visitor, but nope, it was Miguel on the floor with sand all over. You sighed and either carried him or just dragged him by the arms or even tail.
You wonder if he'll ever get legs like Ariel as you water off the sand on his body. Your mind was drifting away in thoughts until you heard Miguel breathe hitched. Looking down at the hand position, you realized that your hand is on his chest.Although, you're brain hasn't processed and just did a slightly squeeze—
"AhH-!"
'......"
Miguel smacks your face with his tail, and since the door is closed, Miguel just had to crawl over to your bed, covering himself with the blanket as your face flushed and steam coming off on your head.
"Miguel, did you just-"
"SHUT—!"
"....but-"
"CÁLLETE!"
You couldn't get into contact with him for weeks. You were actually getting slightly worried. Until you flinched and felt your heart sank when you suddenly got dragged into the water. Trying to pry off the hands that was tightly wrapping around your waist. You finally give up and just accept your fate as your vision becomes dark.
You woke up and choke on some water that was still in your lungs, while a hand was patting your back. Still coughing violently as small tears start forming in your eyes. Looking to the direction from the hand, you finally fully processed what was going on. You were about to beat the sh-t to the person who dragged you down until you found out it was Miguel?! Wait....how tf are you still breathing under water-
You touched your neck, feeling gills on it. Miguel looks away, ignoring your stern stare. "MIGUEL?! DID YOU REALLY DO THIS TO ME??" You pointed at the gills that were formed on your neck, Miguel still looking away guilty. Miguel mumbled something that it won't be permanent, so you sighed a relief.
You flinched when he hugged you, and you felt hot tears on your shoulder. "*hic* don't leave me....please, I won't do it again"
You were cunfused until you remembered when you were slightly conscious.
"[Name]?" Miguel said. Laying his head on your chest, he panicked when he only felt a faint thump from your heart. "[NAME]?! Please..! Wake up! I know you're awake.....Please...I don't wanna lose you, " He sobbed. Holding you in his arms as he held your hand. "Please...I beg you" he whispered, voice cracking.
Slumping back from the headache you felt after remembering. Miguel still holding your hand. It seems like he fell asleep on you....You look around seeing....holy shit. Other mermaids and mermans??? You stared at them back then went started laying down as your soul suddenly ascended. 'Why am I here....just to suffer' (they're still wondering how tf you made Miguel cry. [They never saw him cry])
After some time, you found out that Miguel dragged you into the mermaid society (haha, it's a spider society except its mermaids, heh). Everyone stared at you because you had....✨️LEGS✨️
You soon found out Miguel is the leader of the mermaid society. He's been dragging you everywhere he goes to. You also found out that dimensions were real?! It's a miracle you didn't throw up or pass out from how dizzy after you went through the portal seriously!
You tried escaping going to land, but Miguel captures you and clings onto you 24/7 now, which makes it impossible to go back.
You. Felt. DRAINED. you just mostly sleep all the time or watch Miguel and talk to the others. Hobie was curious about punk rock music ever since he heard it. He kept asking about it and would love to hear you play it! You knew that love sick Miles was sooo in love with Gwen, which you and Pav and perhaps even Hobie teases him.
Peter, makes let's you babysit Mayday when he's busy, even just watching you and etc. Mayday was always curious about your legs, you were so different from other mermaids! (Because you ain't one)
Honestly. You were enjoying being under water, already used to the stares. Except when you were almost experimented with by a mermaid scientist or similar ones. Especially one of those crazy ones. Sighing tiredly, you opened the door to your 'room', feeling homesick lately until....you found Miguel with LEGS?????
Miguel flinched at the sound of the door creaking open, freezing when he got caught by you. "Miguel....you had legs— MPH-!"
Miguel quickly covered your mouth. You would've felt intimidated if you didn't see the faint blush on the tips of his ears. "I'm only testing a device.....so be quiet, alright?" (wow. Even an underwater society is more advanced)
(Bro doesn't want to be found out that he can have ✨️legs✨️)
—to be continued—
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keenzinemugstudent · 10 months
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Y/n: Okay people this is important so listen up! It's my birthday in a three days and I do not want anything related to Miguel in his birthday suit! If y'all didn't hear that the first time let me say it again *takes out 🎙️* I DO NOT WANT ANYONE SENDING ME ANY PICTURES OF MIGUEL TIED UP , OILED UP AND BUTT BOOTY NAKED!!!! Thank you have a nice day everyone love ya!
Peter b: .....
Jess: ....
Lyla: ....
Ben: ....
Miguel : *face red in embarrassment* ........... I'm going to shocking kill them.
Hobie: Well at least I know what to get them for their birthday now.
Miles: Hobie no!
Gwen: I thought they wanted a cat
Pavitr: Miguel in cat ears?
Lyla: Let me write that down
Margo: Y'all do realize that Miguel is like running on all fours looking for them right?
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eskeptical · 2 months
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quickly wrote this up just thinking about what it would be like to have an overly friendly relationship with miguel o'hara and how him crashing at your place would be like.
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it's something in his eyes. you know it is. it's the little spark, the slight curve and slight brow lift that makes you want to give into him.
miguel is not a man who asks. not verbally, anyways. he uses other methods to make you do what he wants, even if he never says it out loud.
he's sleeping over at yours once more, you're not sure why, something about your place being closer and warmer and using the excuse that he'll check out the weird noise in your air conditioner you've been nagging about for weeks now.
he never ends up doing it -- still, you're not one to complain. you love the company, and you suppose he's somewhat useful as you have this tendency to always make more food than you intend to. leftovers which would usually sit in the back of the fridge , forgotten and stale, disappear after miguel either eats them or throws them out, reprimanding you all the while. you're wasting good food. I'll take some of these. you probably won't eat it anyways.
"i'll sleep in the couch," he says, and it's rehearsed. because he always does this. he'll go into your bedroom and steal a singular pillow, not even a blanket because he knows he's gonna get his way anyways without even having to say anything. he heads over to the small little couch you have, and you watch with arms crossed as he lays on the black cushions. naturally, he's too big for it, having to lay sideways and have nearly half of his legs sticking out in mid air.
you try to resist it, you really do -- to have him stay there because he's too stubborn to ask for anything properly. but then he looks your way, with a serious expression and those lovely eyes of his and that stupid little raise of his eyebrows he does subconsciously.
you sigh, rolling your eyes as you turn your back and head into your room, and your hand lazily waves him over. he picks up the signal readily, quickly prompting himself out of the couch and following you into your comfortable, warm bed, where he'll promise he won't do anything, he's just feeling a little cold and the sheets aren't warm enough, and it's okay, because it's just a little kiss, just for warmth.
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lacedinweb22 · 2 months
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Miguel babies you when you’re sick ⁺‧₊˚ boyfriend headcanons Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader  
nsfw 18+ towards end
⊹ At the first sign of a cold, he’s on it, forcing you to stay on the couch, drink water, and take zinc supplements every three hours. You tell him to stay away, but he insists that his immune system will fight it off, which always proves true. He wraps you up in blankets and cuddles you. 
⊹ You’ll dig your face in his neck, groaning and complaining about the aches you feel all over, while he massages your neck dipping his fingertips up into your hair, massaging your neck, then tracing down to your back. His hands are so strong, he effortlessly gives you the best massages of your life. He whispers into your hair, “Sana sana colita de rana. Dame un besito para hoy y mañana” (Heal heal little frog's tail. Give me a little kiss for today and tomorrow).
⊹ He’ll make you soup, bringing it to you in a mug so you can sip on it as he wraps you up in his arms while you watch your favorite comedy together. He’ll give you endless kisses on your head as he holds you. 
⊹ As you’re curled up against his chest, kissing his neck gently, he’ll massage your thighs, which eventually progresses to his face in between your thighs as he wants so desperately to make you feel good when you feel so shitty. 
⊹ He’ll drink you up. He’ll place gentle kisses around your heat, before going straight to town, lapping at your core as you arch your back against the blankets under you, moaning and whining from the pleasure, the much-needed release of tension from your body. As he sucks gently on your sensitive bud, his hands explore your thighs then go up under your t-shirt and onto your belly, as he squeezes, and massages your warm flesh. His fingers massage your lower belly, making you more sensitive, bringing you your orgasm, the first of many. 
⊹ He runs you a hot shower and joins you, carefully lathering soap all over you, his big hands massaging your aching body. He sits down on the ledge, rubbing soap onto your thighs, hips, and stomach, then tracing his big hands up to your breasts, gently massaging as he looks up at you lovingly. He gets back up and urges you to turn around so he can rinse the soap from your hair. He gently combs his lengthy fingers through your locks then moves your hair, giving himself access to your neck, kissing and sucking gently on wet skin. “I’m sorry you’re sick, cariño,” he mutters into your neck. “Make me feel better,” you whisper back, pressing your ass against him. He does just that, turning you back around so he can kiss you, and press you up against the tile wall. He holds your thigh against his hip, opening you up, and thrusting up into you slowly, gently, providing endless kisses, endless words of encouragement, “Like that, baby. Does that feel good, princesa? Am I making you feel better?” he’ll whisper, brushing your wet hair from out of your face. Your nails dig into the back of his biceps, as you look up at him, head thrown back against the tile, moans and heavy breathing echoing through the steamy bathroom. His tip massages up into your g-spot, his slow strokes bringing the blissful ache in your stomach down to your thighs, as you begin to c*m around him, throbbing as he bottoms out into you, muttering cuss words as his lips brush against your forehead. 
⊹ After your shower, he'll massage vaporub onto your neck and chest, then help you put on your pajamas (one of his t-shirts and sweats), then he’ll give you some hardcore cold medicine, the kind that is quick to knock you out. He insists you get in bed, but you want to watch more of your show. So he’ll oblige and spoon you sideways on his big couch as you both watch TV, his hands running all over you, under your t-shirt, massaging you, feeling you, actively trying to find ways to make you feel better. He’s propped up on one elbow as you lay in front of him. He eventually sees you’ve succumbed to the medicine and so easily carries you to bed.
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theorphicangel · 3 months
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nsfw, 18+
thinking about spending a lazy day in bed with Miguel. the two of you had had a busy ass week, barely being able to spend quality time with each other. but now on this quiet Sunday, you both grabbed the opportunity as fast as you could, silently agreeing to cuddle up next to each other all day.
nothing else needed but you and him between the sheets. your naked limbs wrapped around each other, impossible to part. and sooner or later, one thing leads to another: slow, relaxed lovemaking without time jeopardising this moment together.
miguel is buried heavily into your cunt, stuffing you to the brim. your head falls into the crook of his neck, eyes closed, hiding your face in his warmth.
“c’mon my love,” he purrs, his voice raspy, “no te escondas de mi.” [don’t hide from me]
a whine leaves your throat in response and ever so slowly do you peel away from his warmth, coming up to meet his dark brown eyes. your lips are parted, breathless moans come out as light gasps as Miguel continues to thrust into you. each time he does, it’s slow and accurate, brushing against your sweet spot.
“it’s too good hmm?” and there’s a slight grin on his face as the words leave his mouth. he watches your eyes roll back, you’re completely intoxicated by his cock, no words come to your mind quick enough to respond.
you can just about murmur his name, your high pitched tone warns him of your climax.
“jus’ a little bit longer okay, nena? you’re doing so well for me.”
his praise in combination with his deep thrusts causes the pressure building up in your lower abdomen to burn. your pussy tightens around his cock and Miguel lets out a hiss, muttering under his breath as his hands kneads the fat of your ass. you’re almost there and so is he, much sooner than he had expected.
“fuckkkk-“ he seethes, his hands still kneading your ass, your body perfectly in tune with his; a perfect melody as the room fills with filthy skin slapping, his grunts and your drawn out moans.
it’s not long before he increases his pace, helping you bounce all over his cock until the two of you reach your climax. breathless, you lay on top of Miguel, body and soul exhausted. he peppers kisses across your face, never-ending praise leaving his lips. “you did so well for me, my love.”
you hum in response, sweat dripping down your skin, mixing with his. nor you or him were bothered to move, souls too tangled up to separate.
in this present moment, neither of you were bothered to sort through the knots, not now or ever.
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[lmk if that Spanish translation is correct because I do not trust myself 😵‍💫😵‍💫]
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angel-of-the-moons · 5 months
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Eccentricities
Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: DDDNE, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, NSFW, masturbation, spying, camera usage, Miguel being an overall gross creep, stalker behavior, possessiveness, obsessiveness, mentions of murder from the previous chapter, manipulation tactics
MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME
A/N: Woot! Sorry it's taken so long, everyone! I reinjured my back somehow so hopefully I can relax and get comfy enough to be a bit more regular with uploads to this! This chapter is a bit of filler before we once again, get into the heavier stuff later on. (And yeah I totally looked up the recipe for that drink because UGH I want it so BAD)
Part 2
Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua @peterbparkersburger @tojishugetiddies @aisyakirmann @itslariette @xxeclipze @oharasfilipinawife @amber-content @ixanne2006 @miguels-aranita
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🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
Pt. 3
Several weeks had passed since the incident with the man in the alley, since Spider-Man had come to your rescue.
Several weeks since Miguel first felt the taste of euphoria from claiming you verbally. Even if you didn't know it, or knew he was Spider-Man.
Snapping that disgusting prick's neck was satisfying. It would only have felt better if he had sunk his fangs in his throat and just ripped it out, or curled his talons deep, his fist wrapping around his windpipe and yanking it free of his body.
No, no, he had no time for that, though. He had to hurry up and get home so he could comfort you, his scared Little Bird.
His precious Little Bird.
Wrapping his arm around your shoulders and patting your back filled him with such a sense of accomplishment. Not even fighting and detaining anomalies felt that good. Protecting the multiverse paled in comparison to feeling your trembling little body beneath his hands, seeing your body visibly relax under his touch and in his presence.
Fuck, did he want you so badly. But, he couldn't. Not yet. He had to earn more of your trust.
Or at the very least, coerce it from you.
He felt pangs of guilt whenever he would think too deeply on it, but he realized when he checked your canon events, that... well. There was nothing saying you couldn't be his. That your universe would collapse.
You were safe, because you were in his native universe. You were safe because you were his.
Or, you would be. One way or another.
He wouldn't lose you the way he lost Gabriela. He wouldn't watch as you crumbled in his arms.
He wouldn't be alone again.
The way he rationalized it when his morals clouded his drive to possess you, was that you were precious. A cool drink of water after a run in the desert, a calm spot in the middle of a hurricane.
You were something pure that he needed to have. He needed to keep you safe.
Pulling up the statistics of your previous apartment district definitely solidified his reasoning that you simply couldn't be trusted to make decisions on your own. Why else would someone as naive as you move somewhere with a crime rate that reached nearly 76% in petty violent crime?
Which brought him back around to the garbage he tossed into a random alley in the city.
His fingerprints and DNA tied him to assaults and break-ins at your building and the neighboring district.
So once again... Miguel was merely doing what was best for you.
Thankfully you didn't have many friends, your busy work schedule from before saw to that. You were simply too raggedly worn to make friends. You even admitted that Lyla was probably the only friend you had (Miguel heard in the recordings of your conversations that you were still too new to Miguel as a person to count him as something so intimate just yet).
Another reason he was taking care of you.
You couldn't manage your work-life balance on your own, and you were struggling financially and mentally from the workload and lack of funds.
But because you were living rent free and with a paycheck to boot... Miguel knew that was the first turn of the proverbial key for your situation.
Soon, you would be locked inside your guilded cage where only he could touch and hold you.
You would thank him for it, eventually. He was sure of it. He would have you on your knees, smiling up at him happily, a pretty gold, necklace-like collar around your neck, the key would hang over his heart.
The thought alone made his cock throb.
No, no...
First things first.
He needed to earn you a bit more. He'd realized that with his work in Alchemax and the Spider Society, you and him hadn't had much interaction save for the end of the day, just after he'd come back from patrolling and you were headed off to bed for the night.
Well, lucky for him... Miguel had put in that he was taking a week away from work, and he even let Jess, Peter, and Lyla take control of things back at HQ, just so he can have time to spend with you.
He needed to make sure that you knew he wasn't afraid to be social with you, that he could be friendly and charming. Maybe once he hammered your walls down a bit... Things might be able to flow naturally. Maybe you would be interested in a relationship with him. It would make manipulating you that much easier.
'It's all for her own good. Nobody else can protect her like I can.' He kept telling himself.
'She'll realize that.'
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
You had just let the dinner you made finish baking in the oven.
It was nice, you discovered, to have a conversation with your boss and Lyla while you worked.
Miguel--as politely as possible--convinced you to let him help you cook. He made some interesting dishes that smelled amazing, plus you two worked together to make a tres leches cake just for the two of you. He even showed you how to make homemade whipped icing! (That was messy but you two had fun doing it, of course)
He promised he'd teach you how to make chocoflan and a few other sweets, sometime. Maybe over the next week, since he had the coming days off; and your skills lie in appetizers and main dishes, not desserts.
And it was because of this topic that you learned Miguel had a hell of a sweet tooth. You made a note to add a few new items to your grocery list to make up for this oversight.
Because, hey, he's been working so hard, comes home ragged... who wouldn't enjoy coming home to a nice sweet, homemade treat after working all day and most of the night?
Thankfully your time as a bartender, you knew some things about making some good cocktails without skimping on the liquor.
Like, right now.
Miguel had a bar in his mansion (like most rich people in Nueva York, you assumed), and he allowed you free reign of it because he trusted you.
That knowledge made you feel a bit more pride than you normally would, because this rich and powerful man trusted you with bottles of liquor and champagne that cost more than a year's worth of rent at your old apartment.
At the moment, you were making him a cocktail you've always wanted to try, but menus priced them too high and you couldn't afford the proper stuff to make it right at home.
It was difficult, however, because he was so close, with his Adonis-like good looks and the body that surely made any woman's eyes wander. You had to snap your eyes away when he leaned on the counter, his biceps flexing beneath his partially unbuttoned dress shirt; the sleeves rolled up revealing his thick forearms and the veins lacing the gorgeous tanned skin that probably had phlebotomists fainting or swooning at the sight.
You tried so hard to stay on task as you carefully dipped the rim of the martini glasses in marshmallow fluff and rolled the rims in the crushed graham crackers. It took a few tries, because you were so distracted by the sheer inhuman beauty that was Miguel O'Hara, but his voice snapped you to attention.
"So... What is it you're making?" He hummed curiously, his brow quirking up from behind his glasses.
You cleared your throat and held up the two dusted glasses, "It's called a s'mores martini. It's a bit of a pain to make, but I'm told it tastes amazing."
"Ah." He smiled at you, resting his chin in his palm, his plush and pouty lips curled upwards as he watched. "But you've never made it before, hmm?"
You cringed. "Er... Well. I mean... I've seen other people make it plenty of times..."
Miguel laughed a little, the noise softly escaping his lips as you first poured in the Irish cream, heavy cream, the chocolate syrup, and finally the chocolate liqueur into the shaker.
"Of course. We learn from watching others experience, right?" He hummed softly, eyes tracking your hands.
You awkwardly avoided eye contact as you closed the shaker and held it above you, shaking the contents to make sure they were well mixed. You didn't notice because you were a little embarrassed, that Miguel was staring shamelessly at your cleavage as they jiggled with each over-the-shoulder shake of the metal shaker.
"Well... Yeah! Exactly!" You smiled, finally looking back at him. He'd corrected his line of sight swiftly so you wouldn't notice his hungry leering.
Once it was done, you strained the mixture into the glasses slowly, smiling proudly at the fact you didn't accidentally drop or--god forbid--throw the shaker into the glass bar behind you or across the goddamn room.
You then impaled two marshmallows on both of the smaller skewers you'd prepared, and held them up one at a time, lighting them with the small handheld torch.
You always liked yours a teeny bit more burned, so you let yours bubble and blacken a bit more to ensure optimum gooey-ness before placing it above your cocktail, leaving Miguel's lightly toasted before placing his.
They looked damn delicious, if you did say so yourself.
Miguel gave a tiny congratulatory clap as he watched you finish garnishing the drinks, his lips still curled in that smirk of his.
He took the stem of the glass and plucked the skewer from the rim, making a small show of his tongue curling around the sweet fluffy treats before pulling them off the stick and into his mouth.
He felt his gut twist with a fire as he watched you awkwardly avoid looking at him once more as you munched on yours a bit less eloquently than he did, getting some of the delicious sticky treat on your bottom lip. Miguel continued to watch with ravenous eyes as your tongue swiped the excess off and into your waiting mouth.
Miguel cleared his throat to get your attention again, and lifted his glass in a small toast, "Salud."
Your smile could melt his heart any day, and he felt it do a funny little flip as you returned it. "Salud!"
You wanted to squirm with glee when you saw his eyebrows shoot up when the flavor hit his mouth. You could tell by his expression that it wasn't bad; on the contrary, it was the look of someone who tried something new for the first time and absolutely loved it.
"Muy Bien." Miguel grinned. "You're right. This is good. I didn't know this cocktail existed 'til you showed me."
"See?" You chuckled, licking some of the fluff and crackers off the rim before taking another sip (something Miguel couldn't help but shamelessly watch). "I love looking up drink recipes. There's this one made from melon liqueur that involves soaking chunks of the melon in the alcohol, right..."
"That sounds good... Sprinkle a little chili-lime salt on it, it could almost be like a treat I used to eat as a kid with my brother." He grinned at you.
"We'd go to the park, buy a mango fresh from the bodega, some of the salt, and just sit on a bench and eat it after school."
"Oh! You can make it with mangos, too! We could try that." You chirp helpfully, ignoring how your heart skipped a beat
"I'd like that." Miguel chuckled, taking another sip. "Perhaps I can make you a white Russian, too?"
"Oh! That sounds good! I've never had one of those..."
You smiled, taking in the quiet, budding camaraderie between you and your boss. Lyla had long since moved her little holographic self to the kitchen, carefully monitoring the food so it didn't burn, so it was just you and Miguel in the comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks.
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
God, of course you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. The moment you finished your chores and bade Miguel goodnight, you ran to your room, your heart fluttering like a wild hummingbird.
It was the booze. It had to be the booze.
Especially with these thoughts running through your head. He was your boss.
He was your boss.
You couldn't think about him like that, it would only complicate things. Being friends you could do, but... job romances always ended nasty. Like when you broke up with your coworker at the insurance office.
Bryce was still pissy about that and would harass you on occasion, sending hurtful and suggestive e-messages to your addresses.
But... working for a guy who may as well have been molded by the gods themselves; how the fuck were you to function properly without your mind wandering to less family-friendly thoughts?
The answer: not fucking easily.
Like right now, you were laid back on your cushy, soft bed, your fingers rolling soft circles onto your clit as you plunged your silicone dildo in and out of your wet and messy channel, your slick and juices leaving a shiny and creamy trail along the length as you twisted and pulled, desperately trying to get that orgasm you wanted. Thankfully you had a towel cushioned beneath you to contain your mess...
Hell, you tried watching porn on your phone, but even that could only get you so fired up. And thus, you were stuck with what your imagination could cook up.
And right now it was a heated image of Miguel leaning over you, whispering filthy things into your ear;
"Ah, so wet and needy, doll? Need my help to work you through it?" He would growl, his teeth just barely grazing the shell of your ear.
"That's it, just tip it up a bit more, thrust it harder--like that. Good girl."
You couldn't help the small moans and breathy gasps that trembled free from your lungs as you felt that wonderful pressure begin to curl your toes.
Your fingers slid down, gathering some of your slick as you imagined Miguel praising you, encouraging what you were doing as you used your wetness to lubricate your fingers so you could do smoother rolls on your little bundle of nerves.
"Good girl." He'd breathe softly, his voice a hair above a whisper as his breath fanned over your cheeks. You could imagine smelling his cologne and aftershave wafting off of him, his natural musk bleeding beneath it all...
"Get yourself nice and wet. Keep going. So close now, muñeca, so close."
You imagined him then, behind your closed eyes, hissing through clenched teeth as he would smack your hand off of your toy, taking the base in his palm before shoving it roughly up into you.
"Need my help, huh? Your little hands not good enough? Fine."
He'd lean back, staring down at you with heavy, lidded eyes as he roughly fucked you with that pale imitation of a real dick; the bulge in his pants straining against the seams in a way you'd swear they would burst.
Miguel would bring a hand back, slicking his messy hair, the sticky gel coming loose from the sweat and heat that was shared in such a small space between you; and he would rip the buttons of his shirt open as he watched you squeak and mewl as your orgasm got closer.
He'd grin down at you, his crooked teeth gleaming like shark teeth on display as he'd twist and thrust the toy up further and further, hitting every spot you needed with every deft curve of his hand.
"And once I'm done, magdalena, I will show you what a real cock can do to that cute little pussy of yours."
You tossed your head back when your imagination spat that line of dialogue out, and moaned wantonly as your orgasm gushed out of you, every muscle in your body tensing and relaxing all at the same time as the euphoria crashed into you like a violent surf.
You just couldn't contain yourself, crying breathily at the mental image:
"Miguel."
You laid there for what felt like forever, breathing, trying to regain from the intense orgasm that made your head and heart pound.
That's when the post-coital clarity began to set in, and you sat up abruptly, covering your mouth in sheer shock at the fact you just called out his name.
Your boss's name.
You looked around, knowing it was stupid, that he couldn't have possibly heard you from elsewhere in the house, but the flush that crept up your body was there all the same.
Equal parts shame and arousal, honestly...
Thankfully, Miguel didn't hear you.
But you were still none the wiser to the cameras above your bed, pointing straight down at you; feeding right to Miguel's office so he could watch you like his own private peep show.
And you were definitely none the wiser about the thick ropes of cum that covered Miguel's fingers, or how his lips curled into a sick smile as he licked his warm spend from his own hand, his face awash in the dim glow from the monitors in front of him.
Yes. You were going to be a fun little project.
🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷
Part 4: Coming Soon
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alrtyhoney · 10 months
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The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)
Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)
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“Have you thought about it already?” 
The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.
Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly. 
She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do. 
She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.
“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.” 
“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.” 
The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so. 
Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart. 
He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.
“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed. 
“What about it?” 
"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel. 
“What do you want?” 
“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.” 
Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.” 
“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”
Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation. 
As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.
However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–” 
“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time. 
“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again. 
Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”
You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble. 
Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him. 
“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!” 
“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.
“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!” 
The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.
Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up. 
“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!” 
“Old man?” 
“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!” 
“Kid, listen–” 
You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand. 
“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”
You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own. 
Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders. 
“Gabriella?” 
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nervousgardenerkid · 10 months
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We hold each other
a/n: tomorrow is my first day at my new school orientation and i wrote this instead of sleeping BSJNSISJ BUT!!! can we please talk about miguel being needy?? i know most (if not all) of us see him as a dom or at least someone who likes to be in charge….but the thought of him CRUMBLING underneath your touch???? walk with me yall… i hope you all enjoy this!! as always happy reading and credit to the gif owner! wish my luck for tomorrow pls
THIS IS A SMUT!! if you are a minor DNI!!! this is ur warning!
warnings: unprotected sex, (wrap before u tap) miguel being needy(ish), lots of spanish phrases and stuff, not proofread (that's a warning itself), all lowercase is intentional, that's all i can think of rn yall im ngl
reader doesn't use any pronouns but miguel does call them "mami" and reader has fem presenting anatomy, reader also doesn't have any specific racial qualities!
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“and peter….pinche cabrón, don't get me started about him cariño, we're lucky that lego spiderman got there when he did.”
“i know miggy” you sigh out as your hands work and massage his muscles, trying your best to get all the knots out of his body. he groans and leans more into your touch, his hands flying up to massage his temples.
“i just, i need them to listen to me.”
a hum leaves your mouth as you place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, smiling when you can practically see his worries melt away the second your lips meet his skin.
“you work so hard, don't you guapo?” you whispered in his ear.
he throws his head back to look at you, grunting and nodding his head.
“pobrecito, you're just trying to take care of them, yeah?”
it's pathetic and he knows it is, but he can't help the way his eyes close and how frantically he's nodding his head. you get him, you understand him in ways nobody else can and he loves you for it.
you leave your spot from behind the couch and settle into his lap, gently pushing his hair out of his face.
“who takes care of you then baby?”
he shakes his head, almost as if he's silently saying no one, but that's not true. you both know how far from the truth that is.
“want me to take care of you miggy?” you pull away from him and gently grab his chin making him look at you. “want me to make you feel good?”
“please” he practically whines out. his hands flying to your hips as he leans in close trying to close the space between you both.
thats all it takes for you to put your hands on his chest, your lips against his as you slowly push him back to relax onto the couch.
“pobrecito miguel,” you whisper against his lips.
“just wanna be taken care of don't you?”
he nods his head, bucking his hips up to meet yours as your lips graze the side of his neck.
“you work too hard miguel. let me do the work tonight, yeah?”
a broken groan leaves his lips when he sees you sink down onto your knees smiling up at him as you place a kiss against the bulge that's straining against his spider-suit. you giggle quietly as your hands come up to gently massage at his thighs, causing him to buck his hips up against the air above him.
“so eager baby. you need this don't you?”
he nods his head again, parts of his suits already starting to disappear.
“please.”
you shush him, your hands playing with the waistband of his boxers as you slowly pull them off his legs.
“it's okay, guapo. i'll take care of you now.”
he doesn't have time to comprehend what you're saying because your hand is already wrapped around him, stroking him slowly. he moans quietly when he sees your tongue leave your mouth and wet your lips.
“f-fuck, just like that cariño.” he whimpers out when you lean down and kiss the head of his dick. he feels his eyes widen and nearly roll to the back of his head when you start taking him down your throat.
“w-wait amor- ah!” his claws are out and digging into the couch.
“‘s t-too big f-for you-”
you roll your eyes at his words and quickly shove him down your throat, looking up at him with tears pricking your eyes as you gag around him and try and catch your breath.
miguel throws his head back, claws ripping the couch cushions apart as he feels your throat close around him. you pull off him with a pop and panting trying to catch your breath.
“never too big for me querido.”
you lean down again kissing his thighs as you stroke him.
“the perfect size for me. so big and pretty just for me.”
miguel groans at the feeling of your mouth on him again. your hand reaching for his shaky one as you place it on top of your head silently asking him to set the pace for you. he lifts his head up slightly, a small smiling making it's way onto his features as both of his hands cup your cheeks and start bobbing your head back and forth.
“aye, que linda mi amor- fuck!”
you moan around him as his thrusts become quicker.
“look so pretty like this baby…”
a gag leaves your mouth as he hits the back of your throat, chuckling lightly.
“‘s okay baby, you can take it, así. so good for me.
his hands release you and you pull away from him coughing a bit as you try and slow your breathing.
miguel quickly reaches forward and brings you into his lap, kissing you passionately as his hands reach under your (his) shirt gripping at the skin he's been dying to feel. a growl falls from his lips as he rips the shirt off of you and roughly tugs at your shorts.
“how much do you like these shorts?” he mumbles against your lips.
“i can live without them.”
a yelp escapes from you as the cold air meets the bare part of your lower body.
“i'll buy you new underwear too,” he pants out as he leaves kisses and small bites on your neck. his hips buck up to meet yours but you shake your head and grab onto his wandering hands, pinning them down against his side.
“i'm taking care of you.”
you reach down between you both, the head of his dick teasing your entrance as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.
“please,” he whines out. “take care of me mi alma.”
moans leave your lips while a string of curse words in english and spanish fall from miguel’s lips. his hands grip onto the couch cushions once again before you reach for them and interlock your fingers with his.
“feels so good miguel.” you moan out, bouncing slowly on top of him.
his head falls onto your shoulder as his hands gently squeeze yours.
“fuck, keep riding me like that cariño.”
he lets go of one of your hands, bringing his hand down and smacking your ass. a tired smile dancing on his lips when you arch your back into him.
your thighs feel like they're on fire but when you look down at miguel and see the blush on his cheeks and see how fucked out he looks you decide to ignore it. moans leave your mouth when miguel reaches up to play with your boobs, his tongue occasionally wrapping itself around your nipple.
“fuck miguel!” your hand falls between your bodies, messily rubbing circular motions on your clit making you clench around miguel. he groans loudly and finally lifts his hips up to meet yours.
“que rico mami, feels so good.” a breathy laugh fills your ears.
“i can feel you tightening around me- oh my god.” his head falls onto your shoulders and his hands grip your hips, holding you still as he thrusts up into you.
“feels so good cariño. fuck, you’re gonna cum? huh?”
you moan loudly and nod your head frantically, your hands flying to his shoulders as he holds onto you.
“just like that baby, good job- fuck.”
your hips are grinding down on his as you moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders.
“‘m close miguel!”
his lips are all over your neck and chest before you hear him panting in your ear.
“i know querida, fuck. c-can feel your pretty pussy clenching around me.”
he moans and then lets out a chuckle as he drags his fangs across your neck.
“cum for me amor, wanna feel you make a m-mess all over me-”
a loud groan leaves his mouth as his grip tightens around your hips when he feels you clenching around him and making a mess all over him.
“good job baby,”
he grunts out, his hips slamming against yours as he chases his own high.
“s-so fucking good for me, making a mess all over me- fuck! s-so fucking wet and t-tight.”
his lips slam into yours and you both swallow each other's moans as he fills you up, his thrusts becoming weak and messy before he holds you still against him. you giggle softly when you feel him smile and pant against your lips leaning up just a bit so he can gently kiss you.
“let's get you some water mi vida,” he whispers softly, pulling away from you and moving a strand of hair out of your face.
“i'm not done with you just yet.”
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magpie-jaybird · 11 months
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NSFW Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
I haven't even seen the movie yet but I'm hyperfixating on the man AND he's hot as fuck so here we go. More may be added as I go further down the Miguel whirlpool.
Reminder: these are just stupid personal headcanons to fuel my delusional lil gremlin mind, take them with a grain of salt
If any of my friends see this, no you didn't
He's a switch but more dom-leaning
His default mode is Rough™ but he has his gentle moments
He's got pet-names for days
100% loves to bend you over a desk or take you against a wall
A biter. Have you SEEN those fangs?
Lives for marking you up. He'll put those fangs and claws to good use
Possessive of his partner, regardless of the status of your relationship. He'll get grumbly and grumpy if he sees you hanging with someone else. Hence the marking kink
Also into cock-warming
Likes hunting/chasing you down. He enjoys the adrenaline rush
Will pull you into his lap and hold you against him while he gets all handsy with you
Has stamina for DAYS. It hardly stops at one round with him
VERY touchy. Will not leave a single inch of your body untouched
Doesn't matter what position you're in, he wants to see you. He loves seeing you fall apart completely
Very much into pinning you down. Good luck trying to get out of his hold, he's persistent and built like a damn mountain
He flip-flops between dirty talk and sweet talk depending on his mood
For the love of god, run your fingers through his hair. It's a weakness of his, 1000% drives him up a wall
His waist and the upper-middle part of his back are his weakspots
Good with his hands and mouth
He's not very loud. He's more of a grunt, growl, low groans kinda guy. Will absolutely mutter things into your ear whilst blowing your back out. When he gets closer, cue the incoherent Spanish mumbling
Provides damn good post-sex cuddles. Look at those fucking arms, those are CUDDLE ARMS AND I REFUSE TO BE TOLD OTHERWISE-
I feel like he's not the "villainous chin tilt" type. He's more of a "face grab" kinda guy, which reminds you how big his hands are. Also a throat grabber when the mood is right
Not really NSFW but outside of intimate scenarios, he's more reserved about outward displays of affection at first, but as he grows more fond of you, he has to touch you in some way (putting his hand atop of yours, a hand on your shoulder/back/lower neck when y'all are walking through a crowded space, his side brushing against yours, anything goes). In public/around others he's not AS upfront about it, but in private, he's very hands-on. This tired, angry man is touch-starved af because I said so
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