#miguel o'hara x reader

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k (help???)

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Wife!Reader, burnout, overstimulation (not sexually), arguing, angst followed by fluff, kiss and make up, virginal fingering, kisses galore, EVENTUAL SMUT, pregnancy sex, bit of body worship (he loves your pregnant body) cowgirl position, sensory deprivation sex.

𝐀/𝐍: I poured my heart into this one, not that I don’t always do but this one in particular just hits closer to home. And yes it’s a vent fic so very very self indulgent.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

It started off with a throbbing in your head and as irritating as it was, it wasn’t bad enough to disrupt your daily routine. But as the week rolled on, the throbbing sensation began to get worse.

You were becoming easily irritated and it didn’t help with the workload you had to tackle. Even Miguel noticed a change in your mood but whenever he would bring it up and ask you about it, you would deflect his questions and tell him you were fine.

You couldn’t bear the thought of burdening him when your struggles especially when he had his own responsibilities and duties to fulfill.

You knew that if you admitted the stress you were feeling, he would insist that you rest, which was the last thing you needed, especially with how much you needed to get done this week.

You tried your best to ignore the nerves that were stretching to their limits now, but it was proven more difficult with each passing day. You would feel a sense of dread as soon as you got out of bed, mentally bracing yourself for the overwhelming day you had to face.

Your mind was preoccupied now as you reached over the high shelf for the spice jar. Your stomach was jutted out with the new life brewing inside of you, making it harder for you to manoeuvre around.

Just as your fingers brushed against the jar you were after, a sudden voice tore through the room, snapping you out of your trance.

“¿Qué dije sobre pedirme ayuda?” Miguel called out before he went over and stood behind you to take the spice jar you were reaching for. “What if something fell on you?”

“I don’t need help,” you insisted, reaching over to reclaim the jar back from him.

Miguel arched his brow in mild amusement. “You’re struggling to reach the spices, and you’re saying you don’t need help?”

“I’m fine, I’m trying to make dinner,”

“I know I know. But I’m here now so you don’t need to do that tonight,” You knew he was trying to emphasise the fact that he willingly took the time out of his day just to be with you.

Normally, you would be beyond appreciative towards his gesture. With his duties back at Spider Society HQ breathing down his neck all the time, it was a rarity that you both had an evening together like this.

He would either be saving the city or in another dimension, and although you would still be able to contact him through your watch, it would never be the same as having his physical warmth with you.

But right now, you were driven by your stress and too wrapped up in getting the job done to be in the right state of mind and properly enjoy the night.

“Why not? I can still cook you know,” you resorted, pouring some of the spice in the pot before stirring the content.

“And yet, I don’t want you to.” He said firmly before he turned you around to face him and rested his hands on your growing belly, silently conveying his concern for your wellbeing. “Now go sit,”

As the food continued to bubble on the stove, you retreated from his touch defensively. His face twisted in confusion as you questioned, “Why the hell are you doing that?”

His face fell further at your change in tone, “Doing what? Touching you?”

“No, treating me like I’m a basket case,”

“I’m treating you like the mother of my child. You’re pregnant and over exerting yourself,” he tried to reason with you. You attempted to conceal how much your senses were firing right now.

You couldn’t tell if it was the aroma of the cooking that was making you slightly nauseous but you were starting to feel agitated.

“I’m pregnant, not paralysed Miguel. I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” you could see the frown forming on his face and he definitely picked up the hostility of your tone.

“I never said you weren’t capable but I don't want you doing too much,” he argued back, his voice growing more insistent, mirroring your frustration. He wasn’t going to let your stubbornness sway him, even if it did irk you.

You could feel the heat of your vexation rising in your guts. You hated being interrupted in the kitchen especially when you were making dinner. Even if you were tired, you were still going to stand your ground and continue until you were done.

Throughout the last few days there had been a build up of tension that you have been bottling up and you refused to talk about it with him, even if he did ask you about it.

You had no safe outlet for your emotions and now you can feel it taking a toll on your daily tasks. It was almost palpable and you couldn’t control the sudden outbursts you were throwing at your husband right now.

A small part of you knew that he didn’t deserve this harsh treatment you were giving him. But that meek feeling of self awareness was quickly overshadowed by your clouded mind that was skewing your thoughts, unbeknownst to you.

Out of bitterness, you twisted the knob to switch off the stove before you turned to look at him. His annoyed expression didn’t falter, rather you could see his brows furrowed more. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Turn off the stove?”

“You wanted me to stop, didn’t you?” Now it was your turn to be confused, though you could still feel the lingering coldness.

He was so adamant on you not cooking so why is he still not satisfied when you turn the stove off? What was his problem?

“What are you trying to prove here?” He asked.

The question hit a nerve, the fact that he was insinuating that you had an ulterior motive just by a simple action. It was almost insulting. Was he trying to sound condescending just to throw you off?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,”

Ouch.

“Oh please, enlighten me,” There was an obvious edge to your tone and he glowered at that. You could tell he was really starting to get annoyed when you saw his fangs started to emerge from his canines, something that was only stimulated in the height of rage or arousal.

“Cut the sarcasm. You’re purposely getting on my nerves and it’s working. Now, are you going to answer my question?” His voice demanded clarity from you and you weren’t sure if anything you said would satisfy him.

“Like I said, I’m doing as I’m told. Why are you getting mad?” You snapped back. You didn’t want to admit that what he said made the shadow of sympathy you felt early crawl back again.

He wasn’t aware of the emotions you were keeping inside of you and probably thought you were purposely reacting this way just to pull his leg.

“You know damn well that’s not how I meant with my words,” he was practically growling now and you could see the crimson in his eyes flicker like a flame.

With a weary sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose— a habit that you both seemed to share. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this argument now, it was clear that it wasn’t going anywhere.

The throbbing in your head was back, but now it felt like a pounding sensation reverberating in your skull. Without another word, you turned to leave the kitchen leaving the half-cooked food behind on the stove.

“Where are you going?” You heard him call out from the kitchen before he took a few steps in your direction.

“To the room, I lost my appetite,” You headed your way up to the bedroom. You didn’t hear his footsteps following after you as you closed the door behind you.

You climbed into bed with the blanket over you and made yourself as small as your pregnant belly will allow you. There was a sense of bleakness that was shrouding you now— the underlying stress you’ve been feeling was still there but it wasn’t as overbearing.

With the silence in the room, you’d think you’d be able to calm yourself down a little from the heated interaction you just had, but instead your mind was still racing. You couldn’t stop yourself from straining your muscles no matter how hard you tried.

You tightened your grip on the blanket and buried yourself deeper into the sheets, trying to block out as much of the lighting from the room as you could. You didn’t notice Miguel entering the room until you felt an additional weight on the bed beside you.

For a long moment, all you could hear was his steady breathing and the occasional bed creaking before he spoke out of nowhere. “Well, at least the silent treatment is an improvement from earlier,”

The sarcasm was uncalled for especially now. It made your blood boil. To make matters worse, he kept going. His voice, that you always loved hearing, now sounded like an irritating ring in your ear. “Are you just going to hide under the blanket until I forget about everything?”

“Stop talking….please stop talking!” you pleaded, your voice was quivering and on the verge of tears. You felt like you were at a tipping point, standing on the edge of something already breaking.

The sensory overload from the argument along with the tension was still present, and you desperately needed silence.

There was a long pause and your pulse was thudding in your ears. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he regretted his words just from his silence.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights and go?” His tone quickly switched, a soft caress. You poked your head out of the blanket to look at him.

You felt guilt tugging on your heart after everything that had just happened moments ago. Your husband didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of this. The least you could do now was end the night on a civil note.

“Turn off the lights but don’t leave me,” you requested. Without wasting a beat, Miguel got out of bed to turn off the lights before he climbed back in to embrace you.

The room was dark but you could still see his silhouette against the Nueva York city skyline from the bedroom window.

“Could you hold me? Please?”

“Of course,” his voice was a soothing balm against your firing nerves. Swallowing thickly, you pushed the blanket away and moved onto his waiting arms as he leaned against the headboard.

You settled onto his lap and you felt his broad arms wrap around you. Your eyes started to leak with your heated tears and before you could stop yourself, you broke into a sob.

“Just breathe, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time,” He muttered against the crown of your head. You rested your head against his chest with his heart thumping softly near your ear.

The throbbing was starting to ease and the relief that followed after came in waves. All that weeks worth of pent up tensity was released in one night through your tears.

With the absence of the lighting along with the silence, it was easier to reach the mellow state that your body was screaming for.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” you rambled, a sense of remorse crashing down on you like a storm.

“It’s okay…I feel like we should talk about some things though,”

“Like what?”

“How we should handle potential fights in our marriage. I don’t really like the way we argue and get at each other's throats so quickly,”

You let his words sink in. The mere thought made your heart ache. The situation would’ve never escalated this far if you hadn't talked to Miguel earlier. Instead you let things boil over.

“It’s my fault…”

“Why do you say that?”

“I kept brushing you off when you wanted to be there for me,” you admitted, a bitter irony taunting your confession.

In retrospect, you’ve witnessed Miguel struggle to open up about his feelings while you were still in the early stages of the relationship.

Even during your marriage, it was a huge step for him to finally be completely emotionally open with you. You’ve noticed how much your relationship has flourished since then and how closer you felt with him.

But now the tables have turned tonight, with you leaving Miguel oblivious to the series of weary emotions you were experiencing. You knew it wasn’t healthy for you or the baby growing inside you to carry such stress alone.

“I noticed the way you were struggling the past few days. I just wish you were more vulnerable with me and not feel like you have to put on a brave face just for my sake,” Miguel explained.

“I dont…I don’t really know where to start,” You tried to rack your brain and coordinate how to express the tension you’ve been feeling the past few days. It was difficult to pinpoint on one thing and string the words together.

“Everything just feels so overwhelming and too much for my brain to handle…even the clock ticking makes me want to rip my head off,” you clutched onto his shirt, a feeble attempt to hold onto your crumbling composure. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones from the pregnancy or a burn out. Or maybe both,”

“I’m leaning towards burn out since you’re showing all the signs, you’re easily irritated and I can see you’re overstimulated from the smell of the cooking to the lighting in the room,”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agreed softly. A lot of issues could be contained just by not saying anything. You seemed to be acutely aware of your own hesitation when it came to voicing your emotions.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share your feelings with Miguel; rather you didn’t know how to and feared the unknown reaction that may follow. You weren’t used to being this vulnerable.

You knew that you would rather hear Miguel share his emotions, even crying on your shoulder, than have him be silent. It was only fair that you took your own advice. Here you were advocating for openness, while grasping onto your own reticence.

“Could you do me a favour?” You asked in the midst of the silence that was shared between you.

“Of course,”

“I understand that you don’t want me to lift a finger especially while I’m pregnant but could you not try to intervene when I’m in the kitchen. I don’t like sitting around and I want to keep myself busy,”

You could sense the hesitance from him as he drew in a shaky breath before he spoke. “…yeah I can do that”

“You already have a lot on your plate,”

“I do, but promise me that you won’t leave me in the dark when you need something from me,”

“I promise.” You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page Spiderman,”

Even if your view of him was obscured by the darkness in the room, you could still see his lips twitching up from your comment. “Mhmm that’s not an excuse for me to be a neglectful husband to you. So don’t act coy with me,”

“Oh I know. I’m just finding an excuse to be a smartass,” you teased him further by kissing along his jaw. Feeling his body tense from your touch, even if it was subtle, was a huge ego booster.

“Was that supposed to throw me off or something,” you could hear the groan he was trying to hide at the back of his throat as he spoke and it made your stomach flutter.

“Maybe,”

“Uh huh, you definitely did that on purpose,”

“I’ll do it again,”

“And I’ll kiss you right back,”

“Alright bet,” Before he could retaliate, you were bold enough to lap over his lower lip with your tongue. A low moan could be heard from him in response.

It was rare for you to initiate such a confident move like this but there was an undeniable spark and you didn’t want it to go just yet. The bleak mood from earlier was now forgotten and was replaced with arousal.

You pulled away to reposition yourself so you were fully facing him on your lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

His grip on your waist tightened in response drawing you closer to him until your bump was pressing against his torso. “You have no idea what you got yourself into,”

Finally with a longing that built in your stomach, you leaned in until your lips met in a fervent kiss. The weight of your doubts and anxiety was now completely diminished as you felt a magnitude that pulled you into bliss.

You felt him run his tongue over your lips and you parted them slightly in response. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, completely taking over your mouth with a low groan.

As you pulled away, breathless with desire, you couldn’t help but tease, “Too much or not enough?”

To which he responded, “Not even close to enough,”

“Good, then I’ll keep going. You’re not getting the upper hand here,” you were beaming at your own words.

But your confidence was cut short when you noticed his hand reach over and slipped under your pants and past your panties until his fingers were grazing against your folds.

Feeling the air that brushed against your slickness was enough to humble you. You didn’t realise how soaked you were until you felt yourself suction around him greedily as he pushed both his middle and ring finger in.

“You’re saying that now, just wait until I’m inside you,” he was taunting you, completely throwing you off but you would happily let his fingers do all the talking now, even if it was at the expense of your pride.

Your hand immediately reached to grapple onto his biceps to keep yourself steady. If it wasn’t for your restricted mobility from your bump, you would’ve started rolling your hips to ride on his fingers.

But instead you allowed him to do all the work. Your head rested on his shoulder and you moaned into his neck as the pad of his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves of your clitoris.

He dragged his fingers out, now wet from your arousal, and slowly ran it over your folds. The first thing you felt after he pulled his hands away from your cunt was his hard on, pressed against you.

You would’ve started grinding against him with how needy you were if he didn’t hold you still. He held you by the side and moved you off his lap so he could remove his pants and boxers before lying down flat on his back.

You didn’t need the light to know that his dick was standing on its end with beads of precum leaking from the tip. You removed your own clothes and felt the cold air slap on your cunt.

“Ven acá amor,” his voice was inviting and you’d be a fool to deny him.

You let him guide you, given his enhanced vision that allowed him to see in the dark. Both hands were on your rear, spreading your cheeks before you felt the tip nudge into your folds.

“Oh God-” you whimpered. You felt yourself stretch to accommodate him, sinking yourself lower until you were balls deep. Your hips flushed against him with your stiff clit pressed against the top of his groin,

“No divinity. Just your husband’s dick inside you,” A wide grin spread across his face. His hands were all over your growing belly, feeling the warmth of you and the occasional kick of the baby.

“Que bonita,” he said in awe. A sense of pride washed over him knowing he was the one who knocked you up, the woman he loved and the mother of his future child. “Muy linda tu barriga,”

You seemed to be more sensitive to his praises especially given the fact that you were getting cock drunk now.

Ever since your bump was starting to show, Miguel never missed the opportunity to praise you. He wanted you to feel proud of your physique and not be hesitant on your changing body.

His hands reached over to hold your waist before he piston his hips up and took control of the pace. You could tell he was holding back from going rough, handling you with extra care.

The feel of him thrusting inside was enough to knock the senses out of you until you were high from bliss. He was making sure you felt every sensation in full capacity, feeling every crevice of his dick being caressed by your silky walls.

His hands reached over to the back of your neck to pull you in until your lips met again. The kiss was disoriented and breathy as he was still trying to maintain his pace.

Each brush of his lips on yours was feeding into your ecstasy. You pulled away and nestled into his neck, taking in his dick so well.

“That’s it, let me make you feel good. Let me make you forget about your problems, amor,” he whispered lovingly in your ear.

“Miguel…” you couldn’t form a proper response, your moans of pleasure drowning out your voice.

He was so good at making feel this way, reaching optimal pleasure from his touches. With the absence of the lighting you allowed yourself to just physically feel everything he was giving you.

His broad head nudging into your cervix.

His soft whispers fanning against your ear.

His hands all over and worshiping you everywhere he could reach.

“God, you’re so easy to please,” You could tell he was reaching his peak. With one final buck from his hip, he dragged his dick to reach the depth of your cunt before he reached his climax.

You felt the contraction of your walls around him as he drenched his balls inside of you. His grip on you loosened and his dick slipped free from your grasp before deflating onto his thighs.

You whined from the sudden withdrawal and the muscles of your walls relaxed. There were still remnants of his cum that was sticking between your thighs but you would deal with that later.

Miguel kissed the top of your forehead before letting out a deep sigh. You both lay together in each other’s embraces, basking in the afterglow with your breaths merging together.

Amidst the tranquil intimacy, your stomach let out an unexpected growl, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

Miguel chuckled softly, “So, have you still lost your appetite?”

You huffed. “Well it’s suddenly back now that I’ve worked it up in other ways,”

Hot take: cooking together in the kitchen is NOT romantic 🙅🏻‍♀️🗣️ move out of my fucking way and let me work

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @monarchberrysblog @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @quack-ie @ghost-lantern

@ginanet @superstar-t20 @roreadsfanfics @francesca-the-1st @vanillapinkrose

@dfffghio @migueloharastruelove @nerdyninjaprincess @unhinged-reader-36 @maiyart

@nediks @ahcrie4help @cl3stevu @kodo1221 @boobsbeesbongos

@emelie-s-h @pretty-pink-princesss @safixiovi

Just a heads up, this may be the last Miguel fic I’ll be posting for a while. Writing for him doesn’t feel the same anymore and my hyperfixation for him is slowly wearing thin. Im not sure yet though, but savour this as much as you can I guess. That and I feel like my writing isn’t good enough for the fandom anymore :p

Also reminder that I will be interacting and reblogging fic from my second account @lmaoyouwhore

[bluesidez]

Firefighter!Miguel Part 2

content warning: the urge to use AAVE was slipping through the nerves of my fingers. I tried to hold off, so if you see something that looks grammatically different, then it’s probably AAVE that I couldn’t NOT add. this is all fluff too! there are also mentions of food, but that's a norm for these drabbles

word count: 2.2k, proofread! (I think there's no mistakes 😭)

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“Eileen! Is that you?!”

You internally groaned as your grandma hopped out of the motorized shopping cart to greet yet another person.

The trip to the grocery store to buy ingredients turned into a meet & greet with the star being your grandmother knowing everyone in the town.

You felt loopy, going from almost burning down your house to contemplating whether or not the hot fire captain would prefer yams or potato salad. Maybe both?

You grumbled to yourself as you scanned the aisle for a specific brand of cookies for some banana pudding. If all else fails, this was a dessert you could make with no oven.

“And now we’re here, trying to find this child something to cook with,” you heard your grandma fuss out. Why did your business have to be the topic of the conversation?

You turned and walked the short distance to your grandma and another woman who was….her old coworker? Her church member? Or maybe they went to school together….

“Good morning Ms. Eileen,” you say, thankful that you caught her name. You couldn’t keep up with everyone like your grandma.

“Is this the baby?!” she says, shocked eyes going from you to your grandma and back to you.

Your grandma nodded, a smile growing on her face.

“Child, I haven’t seen you since you were this little!” she says, holding her hand about 2 feet off the ground. She turns back to your grandma, “This can’t be the baby!”

You stand there with your lips in a line as you wait for the realization that at least two decades have gone by since you’ve last seen her.

Or more like since she’s seen you. You’re still trying to gather who she is.

“Yeah, this is my grandchild! All grown up and now we’re trying to win over a husband,” your grandma says, shaking your arm.

You wanted a hole to swallow you up or possibly grow some wings so that you could take flight. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“A husband?!” Ms. Eileen smiles mischievously. “Who are you trying to marry?”

“Uh-”

“Honey, this child got the Fire Chief ringing my doorbell!”

“He’s actually the Fire Captain-” you mumble, trying to get your two cents in

Ms. Eileen holds your hands and starts doing an excited bounce as she vocalizes her excitement.

“I need to get right then if we’re fixin’ to have a wedding!” she said, gesturing to her hair as if to fix it.

“It’ll be soon! Just wait and see!” your grandma says, putting her hands back on the handlebars of the car. “Let us go on and buy the rest of this stuff. We’ve got a lot to do. It was good to talk with you!”

Your grandma starts to move forward, somewhat ignoring Ms. Eileen as she started to open her mouth again.

“Leave me some of that food ok?” she calls out.

“If there’s any left, I’ll let you know!” your grandma says as she turns down the aisle.

You chase after her, waving to Ms. Eileen as you leave.

“Who was she again?” you ask as you two go down a new aisle.

“Eileen Wilkins from the school.” So she was a coworker! “She still doesn’t know how to stop talking, though.”

Your laugh sneaks out of you as you watch your grandma stop at some seasonings.

“Why do you say that? You were keeping the conversation up.”

“I was just being nice! It was fine until she started bragging about that granddaughter of hers. That girl doesn’t know her left from her right. How she make it to nursing school?”

“Maybe she’s a hard worker!” you respond.

Your grandma snorts, “Yeah. Working hard at paying somebody else to do her work.”

You just shake your head at your grandma. What are you going to do with this woman?

“Will you call the number already?”

“I don’t really want to do that,” you say, tapping your foot against the ground.

This would be the fourth station within the area that you called with no record of a "Captain O'Hara." You were starting to believe that you and your grandma made him up. Just a small figment of both of your imaginations. What your grandma saw as a suitor and what you saw as a hot guy just trying to do his job.

"You need to want to call," your grandma, responds. "We didn't get all of this food made for nothing. And you're wearing my good necklace! He won't know what hit him when sees you."

You both decided on soul food. Tin pans full of food for the entire crew from greens to mac to fried catfish. Then, there was a hefty styrofoam takeout plate made especially for him. Your banana pudding for him in a tupperware container with Nilla wafers patterned along the side.

Not to mention, you spent an unhealthy amount of time deciding which scent you should wear.

You looked infinitely better than you did when he last saw you with ingredients dusting your front and smoke coming out of your windows.

Still, it would all be for nothing if you couldn’t find his station.

While yon were staring off, your grandma tapped your phone, impatience riddling her frame.

“Grandma!” you shout, holding your phone as if it were a game of hot potato.

“Just ask if he’s there!” your grandma says.

“That’s not how this works-”

“Station 29, this is Captain O’Hara speaking.”

“Hi! Hello,” you turn back to the phone in a rush, embarrassed that he might have heard you and your grandma. You introduce yourself properly this time, saying that you wanted to bring some dinner down to the crew.

You hear a noise of shock as he starts to speak again, “That would be amazing actually. The crew was just trying to decide what to eat. When can we expect you?”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” you say, a little too quickly to be honest.

“Perfect. We’ll see you then!”

You end the call and look up to your grandma who’s staring at you with a small smile.

“Now you tell him to bring back my good tupperware,” she says, instantly switching back to her regular self.

You just shake your head. Grandmas will be grandmas.

“I’m just trying to get you a good man!” she fussed. “And that’s my good tupperware. He’ll hear from me until I get it back.”

“And who were you just on the phone with? You’re smiling real hard there.”

“Shut up Parker,” Miguel fired back. “And why are you even in here. Aren’t you supposed to be washing T29 right now?”

“I finished that an hour ago, thank you very much. You’re so touchy!”

Miguel got up and shuffled Peter out of his office, “I’m not touchy. You’re just irritating me like usual.”

“Oh my god? You do have someone you’re talking to,” Peter says as he digs his feet into the ground, stopping Miguel. “How come you didn’t tell me? Is it that lady with the tree-loving cat? No! It’s the guy whose dog keeps getting stuck in the wall! There’s a theme here.”

“No, I’m not- Will you move? I’m not dating anyone with daredevil pets,” Miguel responded, trying to push Peter in a new spot.

“Cap is dating?” Ben asks as he walks by the two bickering like cats. “When can we see them?”

“I’m not dating-”

“Miguel! You didn’t tell me anything,” Jess says as she comes down the hallway.

“Why won’t you ever address me as Captain?”

“I will if you tell me who you’re dating,” she says with a smile on her face.

“I’m going to lose my mind,” Miguel mumbles, letting Peter fall to the ground instead of fighting him.

“Well if you weren’t talking to your lover, who was that?” he asks from the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“While you all were slacking, I was making sure that everyone goes home with a full stomach. Remember the kitchen fire from earlier this week? They’re bringing some food for us.”

“Will it be safe to eat?” Ben says, eyes flittering to Jess nervously.

“It was a broken gas line, you idiot,” Jess says with her mouth turned sideways. “At least wait until the food is here before you judge it.”

“No way,” Peter says from the ground. “You put them in your lap and now they’re bringing you food.”

Miguel lightly kicks Peter in the thigh, making him scream out a scale of keys.

“That face gets so many people,” Jess sighs annoyingly.

Firefighter!Miguel who jogs out to the car when you arrive. No, he wasn’t watching the clock or his cameras. He just happened to see some movement in one of the security cameras.

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car.

It’s like you’re a totally different person from the frantic little baker from earlier.

“Can you help me get the plates out of the trunk?” you say, voice barely reaching his ears with how soft you’re speaking.

“Of course,” he replies.

He manages to carry all four hot tins of food, leaving you with just two plastic bags to carry.

Firefighter!Miguel who places the tins on the table with ease.

“Is there anything else?” Peter asks, walking up to his side.

“No, I think this was all of the tins,” Miguel replied with his hands on his hips.

“Show off,” Peter whispers with a smile on his face. He patted his shoulder and walked towards the entrance.

Miguel blushed, realizing how that might have read to you.

Firefighter!Miguel whose eyebrows raise as you hold him back from getting in line, a plastic bag aimed towards him.

“I made you a separate plate. You were especially kind to me and I wanted to show my appreciation,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the bag. “Should I give you the verdict?”

Your heart beats faster, watching his pretty face light up. You nod your head, hopeful that he’ll love the food.

Firefighter!Miguel who has you sit next to him at the table. The crew is quiet for once. Nothing but smacks and the shuffling of cups could be heard.

“Don’t be rude, guys. Say thanks,” Miguel chides at his crew.

At the sound of his voice, everyone starts thanking you profusely.

Miguel starts to open his bag and you feel like you could break out in a sweat.

You watch as he opens the plate and his eyes go big.

“Hey, how come he gets the extra stuff?” Ben whines from the end of the table.

Jess elbows him to shut him up, eyes throwing daggers.

You may or may not have added some fried chicken and potato salad to his plate.

You wait anxiously as he takes a bite.

Is it weird that you counted the seconds as he chewed?

“Damn, that’s good,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

If everyone could hear your thoughts, they’d truly be terrified at the screams going on right now.

“You like it?” you ask, biting your lip.

“This might be the best food I’ve had in a while,” he replies back. “Thank you!”

Your smile grows, watching as he tears away at his food. His laser focus doesn’t stop him from smacking Peter’s hand away from his banana pudding.

Firefighter!Miguel who walks you back to the car. Everyone was chatting and laughing at the table. The after-food glow on all of their faces.

“Everything was really delicious. Thank you for this. You didn’t have to,” he says as he opens your door.

“Stop, I really wanted to thank you guys. You all are the true heroes. Oh! And my grandma would really appreciate it if you brought her container back.”

Miguel chuckles, giving you that pretty smile of his. He looked so pretty that way. The black shirt he was sporting was hugging him just right too.

“Of course,” he responded. “We still have to check out your kitchen too, yeah?”

You nod, shocked that he remembered.

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can work that out tomorrow.”

He hands you a card, writing down what you assume is his personal number. As he hands the card to you, your heart picks up as his fingers graze yours.

“I’ll see you then,” he says, waiting for you to get in your car before he closes it. He taps the hood and walks backwards, watching as you back out of the driveway.

You give him a little wave and squeal to yourself when gives a hearty one back.

Firefighter!Miguel who is hounded by his crew when he gets back inside.

Some of them are making kissy faces and the others are patting his back in encouragement.

“Would you all get back to work?” he sighed, annoyed at all of the attention.

He moved fast to his office, face in flames.

Firefighter!Miguel who groans out when he scoops some banana pudding in his mouth.

You were good. Really good.

He makes an angry face as he takes another bite, “My god.”

“Oo, they got you real good,” Jess snickers as she steals a bite of his dessert.

“Hey!” he said, moving too late to stop her.

She laughs as she runs from his office. Miguel gets up and locks the door, making sure that no one else could steal his food.

It was specifically made for him, after all.

divider by: @dollywons + @starzyyy1 ❤️‍🔥

a/n: Special thanks to @slushycoookie for giving me ideas! It was brilliant and much needed ☺️

If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here!

taglist: @snails-doodles22 @xerorizz @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003

[sassypossumm]

Missed My Pillow

Miguel's spoiled. He can't sleep if you're not right there...

“Y/N?” Miguel stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh, hey, Migs.” Turning, you looked over your shoulder to give him a tired smile. Miguel yawned and made his way to stand behind you. You turned your attention back to the stove. “I thought you were asleep.” He responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair.

“I was.” You grinned at the muffled vibration against your neck.

“Then why aren’t you still asleep?” You whispered, leaning back into him, gently whisking the milk you were heating. Miguel pulled his nose away from your neck and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find my pillow.” He yawned, tightening his grip on your waist.

“Miggy, I have to get the cocoa powder.” Miguel turned his face back into your neck and grumbled.

“I was just getting comfortable.” He protested. With a chuckle you turned your face a little to look at him. He pulled back and yawned again.

“Oh, that’s charming.” Miguel narrowed his eyes at you. A warmth bloomed across your chest. He was so adorable with his hair wild and his eyes still bleary with sleep. All you wanted to do was run your hands through his hair and fold yourself into him like a koala.

“If I let you get it, will you come back to bed.” He grumbled, not willing to release you. At your nod, Miguel moved to release you. He looked a little surprised when you grabbed his wrists and wound his arms back around your waist. Turning back to look at him again, you gave him a warm smile.

“Walk me to the cabinet, Spider-Man?”

“Can’t make it by yourself, gorgeous?” Miguel smirked.

“What can I say, this is a pretty rough town.” You gave him a playful grin. You felt Miguel's chest rumble, but he acquiesced and walked you to the cabinet and back. Uncapping the cocoa, you poured some into the milk and gently began stirring again.

“Couldn’t sleep, Y/N?” Miguel whispered, resting his chin back on your shoulder. With a sigh, you melted back into his frame. Miguel reached around you and turned off the stove before guiding you towards the bedroom. He noticed how you stiffened as you reached the bedroom door, and instead opted for the couch. Sitting down first, he pulled you back into his chest.

“What’s wrong, muñeca?” He whispered, you rested your head on his shoulder and reached for his hand. Several moments passed like this. Miguel holding you while you played with his fingers.

“I love you, Miggy.” The words came out thick. Looking down at his hand, you traced each finger and wove yours in-between his own. “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” You could feel Miguel's breath stall. His fingers tightened around yours.

“I should be the one saying that, muñeca.” He rasped. You held up your joined hands towards the light.

“Maybe it’s true for both of us.”

“Y/N?” He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“Yeah, Migs?” Lowering your hands, you shifted so you could look up at him.

“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow.” He smiled down at you, and you returned it with a slowly spreading one of your own.

“I’d like that.” Miguel moved to lay further back, when you remembered something. “Oh!” You shot up, startling him. Miguel gave you a confused look. “I forgot my milk!” When you moved to get up, Miguel shook his head and pulled you roughly back into his form.

“Sleep.” He shifted and tucked you into his side. You blinked up at him and opened your mouth.

“But,” You tried.

“Sleep.” Your brows raised at his commanding tone.

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled. Satisfied that you weren’t going anywhere, Miguel wrapped an arm around your middle and curled himself around you. Stifling a yawn, you gave in to the sleep edging around your mind.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @flaps200 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

This is me and Miguel btw

[lazyjellyfish300]

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

TW: possessive Miguel, suggestive, sex toy mentioned, ex boyfriend , minors DNI

A/N: based on a meme I saw 🤭 and also had to mention one of my favorite Miguel blurbs that inspired this too a little by @kissitbttr just had to do it🤷🏽‍♀️

-----

When that one ex from your past won't stop blowing up your phone, Miguel decided to take things into his own hands. Some guy you dated when you were 19 and completely ruined your life. 

You were visiting him at work, bringing in two boxed lunches you made just for him so you could eat together. While you were in the bathroom, you left your phone next to his monitor and it went off for the third time in a row. 

Miguel is naturally nosy, but out of respect for you he let the first two notifications slide by. But on the third one he couldn't stand it anymore and just had to see who had the audacity to text his girl back to back. 

Can't they see she's with me right now? 

Miguel's eyes narrowed and he became pissed when he saw who it was from. 

Ex 🗑️: Hey?? Why don't you answer my DM. 

Miguel picks up your phone, taking a picture of the sight next to him, texting a quick reply and hitting send with a smug look on his face. 

You're in her DMs, but she's charging her rose toy on my monitors. 

WTF??

Gonna use it on her later if you wanna see.

(Obviously he wouldn't show your face because he's a gentleman like that)

You can no longer send messages to this account.-Learn more

"Who was that, Miggy?" 

"Ah-Nobody important."

You wear a mischievous grin as he lowers his platform so you can get on. You're pretty sure you know who it is, it's just cute that he decided to take care of him for you. He's adorable when he's jealous.

"Aww, my babe is the best secretary, clearing out those pesky spam messages." you tsk.

The red leaves his face when he realizes you're not upset with him. Miguel gives you a bashful smile, a tiny piece of lettuce stuck to his lip from the turkey sandwich you made him. "Anything for my baby."

------

@hislastbimbogff 🫶🏽🖤

[mrsoharaa]

He tells himself that he was in no way infatuated with you what so ever. Not a bit. Has to constantly convince himself within his messy mindset that he was or is, no way obligated to willingly shun his looming presence with yours. None.

But how is it that he now finds himself nestled ever so comfortably in the softness of your cushioned couch. One arm toppled behind his head as the other pets gently, lazily along the prickling fur of your adorable pup resting on him. Eyes closed softly, as his mind now warps solely on you, from your beautiful beaming smile to the supple adorable giggles that swarm his cold heart. It astonishes him of how more frequent you come to his blundering mind, easing him from the overbearing stress that weighs down on him from the insisting impairment of protecting the multiverse.

And you, lurking just at the start of your hallway, lean against the solid wall beside you, cross your arms and smile giddily at the adorable sight bestowing before you. You'd carefully walk over to the two napping babies, bringing a cozy, thick throw over the snoozing companions embracing each others company.

You'd simply, delicately brush some of his gorgeous, thick loose strands of mahogany from his peaceful, stunning face. Thoroughly admiring every intricate, atoning detail that strung along the perfect structure of his restful face.

Absentmindedly, without any realization and lost into the sheer beauty his relaxed face had to offer — you could feel the supple tender of his warm, plush lips graze just ever so softly against the pad of you index finger. A low, inaudible gasp shimmies down the juncture of your throat, blinking rapidly, your eyes gaze down to the placement of your wandering fingertips. A feeble, radiating heat slowly absorbing into your plush cheeks. A low, rumbled chuckle bounces against the flush of your inquisitive digit, igniting a fervent pace of your puttering heart.

Your lashes flutter rapidly, dilated irises now met with a beautiful set of glossed carmine. A playful glint of soft coy and amusement clearly shining through those gorgeous, ruby globes. A gentle touch of his large hand wraps ever so carefully around your slim wrist, pushing his lips more intimately against the warm flesh of your tensed finger. His eyes never wavering from your stunned, embarrassed expression.

How cute.

His own long, thick fingers playing along the silky skin of your trembling wrist. Emits another amused chuckle, pressing another light kiss to your finger.

"You know it's rude to interrupt a mans sleep, cariño"

[tarjapearce]

Iridiscent (Pt. 5)

Pirate! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of slavery, secondary character death, introduction of characters, violence, mysticism, implicit dark rituals and black magic , mentions of blood, power dynamics, power imbalance. Whump scenarios

Summary: A purpose and a choice lays before Miguel's path.

A| N: CENTURIES after, here is our pirate ❤️ Thanks for waiting this chapter!

So far Peter had proved himself to be useful enough to keep up with the fastened peace Miguel was used to.

He didn't slack off or fell behind. If anything The Red Eyed Demon was somewhat impressed. For being a regular merchant there was surely more than met the eye. Life truly never ceased to bring a much needed dose of surprise.

They had escaped Hacienda Valverde, Miguel had to dispose of a couple of guards in the way to retrieve some ammo and other tools. However a new challenge laid ahead.

Get inside a brigantine.

"So, according to you, we just have to keep ourselves hidden until the boat comes. Then we snuck in and hide again."

Peter spoke as he crunched over the jungle's tree roots. Gun strapped to his hip and a sword on the other. Tense muscles still ached, the blows from the guards had left Miguel to handle the physical duties, giving a brief but welcomed rest to the merchant's ribs.

Miguel nodded and stopped for a moment to have a proper look at his surroundings, the familiar smell of rotten wood and moss filled in his lungs, "Basically."

The pirate mumbled as he took a better look into his milieu, unmistakably they were following the same path he took when foraying up into the Hacienda.

With a groan, he pulled Peter up the tree trunk to cross on the other side. Each landed with a heavy thud, a couple of branches crunching under their weight.

"And..." Peter heaved, "you're sure this will work because...?"

"I've done this before." The pirate cut in curtly, a subtle way to say his reluctant companion to shut up.

Peter just nodded and followed him. The soursops kept stretching until they reached some Acai trees.

"We'll need a uniform for you." Miguel glanced briefly Peter's way to then swing his machete through the foliage, ending the life of whatever plant had dared to cross his way.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Miguel sighed on Peter's surprise and turned to see him, "I'll pretend to be your prisoner. But for that we'll need an uniform."

"No offense pal, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm beaten."

Miguel shrugged nonchalantly, "Makes it more believable. They'll think you got in a fight with the slaves. Happens all the time."

This earned Miguel a disgruntled groan.

"I don't look English enough!"

Miguel deadpanned. "You're white, that's more than enough, just fake the accent and you'll be fine."

Peter's stomach flipped uncomfortably at the implication of his words. Slaves? Fights? He looking English? God forbid MJ to know about his whereabouts or his companies. He was already imagining his wife being horrified for the things he was about to do.

"You've traded slaves before?"

Miguel snapped his head at him so quickly with a glare that made Peter recoil with his hands up in defense.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

The merchant quieted down when Miguel brought a rugged finger to his lips and furrowed his brows, then moved his hand down, a signal for them to hide.

Peter swallowed as he ducked and crawled over a nearby thicket, Miguel however hid behind the tree trunk

The indistinct voices murmuring from a distance alerted the fugitives, Miguel peeked out from a standing tree and saw a small group of guards. Three in total.

One stopped in a nearby hollowed and broken trunk, unbuttoning his pants. Miguel's ever alert gaze darted to the other two that walked away a few meters to give their colleague some privacy as they discussed their next rest layoff, completely unaware of the murderous intentions stalking them.

Miguel crouched, to be eye to eye level with Peter and whispered as he handed him the hefty rope in his weathered hands.

"Take the guy in the back. I'll get the other two."

"W-Wait, what am I supposed to do with this?! Choke him?"

"Exactly. Try to not damage the uniform. He looks your size."

Peter gulped with a panic surge and sighed, "Just for you to know, I don't look-"

"Just shut the fuck up and kill that man! "

Miguel hissed, a vexed tinge in his voice as he tightened his grip on the machete and Peter gulped again. Before the merchant could protest Miguel was already prowling over the other two men.

Peter sighed and remained crouched. The soldier kept baptizing the tree with his pungent scent, earning a temporary disgusted look from the merchant.

With quiet steps, and hitched breath he ventured in through the thickets, keeping himself hidden and quiet as possible while his hands rolled and fisted on the rope.

Peter's heart hammered within his ribcage, pounding with such force his chest thrummed. Bile slowly rose in the back of his throat, he was about to kill a man after all. Something he sometimes fantasized whenever his customers were too pushy or demanding in rough seasons with his prices.

But now that he got to experience the real deal, his hands couldn't help but tremble, soft pants turned agitated the more he approached.

The soldier was too into his own musings by buttoning his pants back that felt a bit too late the rope knotting around his throat.

Peter used his back as a lever and with a sudden downward pull brought the fatheaded guard bending above his knees, hands flailing, gasping for air as he tried to remove the rope out of his obliterating neck.

The soldier's muffled and unintelligible gasps soon turned into gurgles and weakening grunts. Peter couldn't see him, yet the man's face went into a chameleon-like state as his face erupted with several shades of blue and purple while his life escaped before the quiet witnessing of mother nature.

Peter heard the other men's cries as Miguel swung his machete in their bodies, ending their lives in swift moves.

The lurid crack made the merchant to tighten his grip for a bit more, making sure the life had faded from his target.

The soldier's deadweight against his back felt like he carried a block of pure lead, no longer moving. His uniformed arms hung loosely on each side of Peter.

"He's dead." Miguel spoke in between pants as he sheathed his weapon and rolled his shoulders in, releasing some pressure from his joints.

Peter however was clutching the rope tighter, his eyes shut and his teeth baring.

"Hey!" Miguel called but his ally was far too gone. It quickly came to realization what was happening. Peter was panicking. With a sigh he approached carefully and removed the rope from his hands in a firm but mindful tug. The soldier slid down his back and fell to the floor, the overgrown grass muffled the body's fall.

"Pet-" Miguel didn't get to finish his name since the aforementioned crawled behind a tree and retched with all his might.

"O-Oh god... I just" He folded again and Miguel scrunched his nose in mild disgust. He begun examinating the fallen's bodies in search of something that deemed useful, in the meantime.

"I just killed a man." Peter gasped to then wipe his mouth with the back of his shirt.

"Congratulations." Mumbled Miguel as he gathered some ammo within a soldier's hat.

"The hell you mean congratulations?! I just killed a man!" Peter held his stomach as he slanted and panted against a tree, his head hazed with a mix of adrenaline and nausea.

"A man that wouldn't hesitate to plow some bullets into you even if you weren't a threat."

Peter just groaned and rubbed his stomach in circles, trying to soothe the gnawing anxiety within his guts.

"You'll get used to it." Added Miguel with a weak shrug, "Better get your uniform soon, we have to hide the bodies."

Peter retched a final time and Miguel groaned, annoyed, he stood and took a handkerchief from one of the soldier's pockets and waited till Peter finished to  hand the fabric piece to him, the latter wiped his mouth and heaved a deep exhale.

"You done?" Miguel's shoulders squared

Peter nodded and without much thinking Miguel slapped him, hard across his face to make all the queasiness abandon his body in a go as he stumbled to the side.

Blue eyes widened both in surprise and and anger.

"W-What the hell was that for?!" the merchant growled and stood inches away from the muscle mass and Miguel  nodded, pleased at his reaction.

"You're angry?"

"Yes! You don't go around slapping people like that!" Peter pushed him as he rubbed his cheek.

"Think that as life slapping you again. And again and again" He crouched to resume his gathering, "And again. What will you do about it?"

"If you slap me again, we'll have a problem, pal."

Miguel chuckled at Peter's sudden bravado. With a soft shake of his head he handed him a knife.

"What will you do about it?"

Peter frowned and looked straight in his eyes.

"I'll beat your ass."

Miguel huffed, and patted his shoulder a tad rough while pushing the knife further into his hands.

"Now you know what to do with the guards if you wanna see your kid again."

Ironically, Miguel had just repeated the same words Mundaca had once taught him, and always proved effective. Of course he understood Peter's discomfit for such life changing event, he had  spent the night crying after giving the foreman's a taste of his own cat 'til he died.

Night had segued in, covering the endless horizon underneath a stary blanket, the smooth back and fro motion from the dark waves, deemed a worthy sight of admiration after death provoking activities. The saltine breeze caressed the men's skin in an attempt to soothe the underlying discomfit.

Miguel and Peter had found a proper hideout, a spot nearby downhills, where they could see the port and every ship that docked down. The foliage covered them, blending their presence within their ever green density, away from local predators.

The fire cracked cozily within a circle of rocks, oozing with its warmth in every direction anyone approached. Warming up more than bodies and rattled memories.

Miguel laid down in the grass, as Peter sat before the fire that slowly cooked their meal. Some fishes and potatos they'd managed to find in another camp were deemed a proper meal for both.

Peter watched Miguel as he laid.

Strong hands and arms tucked behind his robust nape, eyes closed, almost peacefully. His rugged and cinnamon skin was embedded with faint scar lines that had blurred overtime, leaving a trail of faint white scratches that could only be prominent to the eyesight if he came close enough.

But after witnessing what he could do with his bare hands, the merchant decided he was rather fine at the current distance. His mind however brewed with so many questions his brow furrowed.

"Why did you become a pirate?"

Peter mumbled and Miguel's brows twitched in a mild pucker.

"Had nothing else to lose."

It wasn't in him to share such intimate details of himself with strangers. But Peter had been honest ever since they met, and it was only fair to share tiny bits that remained as universal truths without poking at the too personal territory.

And, au contraire of what people believed of pirate's unruly nature, they all ruled themselves by a code. Miguel respected it as much as he could, specially one of it's most basics and antiques of rules. A truth for a truth.

Peter flipped the fishes to then poke the potatos with a stick, sinking the tip in them to probe at their level of doneness.

"What will we do once in the ship?"

"We hide." Miguel explained simple, "As soon as we get inside, two things can happen." He raised a finger and Peter perked his ears.

"Or you're asked to put all the prisoners to the brig," Miguel raised another finger, "Or you're taken to another area to other duties. You know where a brig is right?"

Peter shrugged with a pout and Miguel groaned while throwing an eye rolling look his way.

"You landlubber..." he shook his head and sighed, "The brig is usually located in the lowest deck. There's no missing in it. Unless you're fucking dumb and end up in the bilge."

"You spill jargon as if I actually understand a thing. I've only been on a boat-"

"Ship." Miguel corrected, earning an irked sigh from Peter.

"I've only been on a ship three times in my life. When my mother gave birth to me, when I tried to look for a better way to keep my business afloat and when I was pressganged by the English a  few days ago. So pardon me for not being a connoisseur of a ship's anatomy."

The ramble made Miguel chuckle with derision.

"Relax, mecha corta. I really need for you to understand that no matter what, we need to get in the ship. That's the only way out we have." (Short stack)

"I know." Peter grumbled, "I just... miss my family." He admitted with a slow yet sharp bite to the fish as Miguel nodded absently.

"Haven't properly met my daughter, haven't seen my wife in almost a month."

Miguel just watched him before rising and seating. He took a impaled fish and pulled it's flesh gently with his fingers and ate in silence.

If anything, the Red Eyed Demon understood him better than anyone.

He'd understand the despair of being away, not knowing anything from his little girl for months, he'd definitely felt the disappointment in Peter's eyes. The all too familiar feeling of being a failure for not being there often weighed his mind way too many times he liked to admit.

"And now I hang out with pirates with a pissy ass attitude." Peter chuckled the last bit for himself, "Where are you from, anyways?"

"Born and raised in a Spaniard Hacienda."

Peter hummed as he munched on a roasted potato and nodded. "Born and raised in Queens, New York, USA."

"Yeah, could tell by the accent."

"Family?"

Miguel shrugged while pulling the fish's spine apart and put it within the giant leaf

"All dead."

Peter stopped in his motions to stare at him with a brief mix of surprise and disturb in his eyes.

"Sorry."

"Así es esto. Now, there's one more possible thing that can happen in the ship." (It is how it is)

Peter wiped the rest of fish on his mouth and paid undivided attention to him.

"There is a minimum chance for us to be discovered once aboard. Though minimum, is still a possibility."

"Ok."

"If we ever get discovered, don't run, don't beg and for God's sake do not jump over the board."

"So we surrender?"

Miguel nodded while eating his dinner in a few bites.

"What if they want to kill us?"

"Though that's a fifty fifty, I'm more inclined to believe they won't. My size alone always brings people's curiosity, so let's use that. You said you were a lock master, right?"

Peter nodded almost dumbly, " A locksmith. That's... my business. Yeah."

"Then, we'll be good"

"And if we don't?"

"We jump over the board."

"But you said we don't-"

"I know what I said, just do as I tell you, alright?"

"Fine."

For how long they've waited? Hours? No. Definitely days. The sun had gone up and down four times in a row. And the guards were already packing in.

Gathering and scourging for food was a a risky move, since the guards in Hacienda Valverde had found a couple of corpses the deathly duo left in their wake.

Miguel had kept him well fed and making sure he'd recover properly. If they wanted to leave, Peter had to give him the best rendition of his opposite being. He hsd to be strong, for his little girl awaiting back at home and himself.

Upon the fifth day, The both stared with keen and curious eyes the horizon. The first few english frigates docked, announcing with their sumptuous flags on top, the arrival of the HMS Amberjack. A navy galley.

Peter however smacked Miguel's chest when his eyes noticed another ship behind. This one had two flags. One black and the other a clear piece of Spain.

Miguel's brows furrowed with alarm and confusion.

"What is he doing here?" The pirate muttered under his breath upon recognizing the Spaniard captain's ship.

Another galley, piloted by none other than a famous privateer that spaniards hired whenever a route or a pirate proved themselves a nuisance for the merchants in the area.

None other than Constantino Salazar de Olivares, or infamously known as El Brujo, took the steering wheel of El Aquelarre. A galley that could easily be mistaken by the devil's ship itself, spat right out of darkness and abyss.

"You know him?" Peter quirked a brow on his annoyed reaction.

Of course Miguel knew him. Olivares was after Mundaca, and his crew. El Brujo had been on a relentless hunt for his father figure a long time ago.

"If you're dangerous enough either spaniards or english men send him for your head. But el cabrón proves himself more annoying than anything with his stupid ass beliefs."

"What's wrong with them?"

"He calls himself a sorcerer. Him being here is no good. Something's happening. If we can, we avoid him."

Peter just nodded and soon, the plan was set in motion.

They changed and practiced Peter's locksmith skills once more, before making sure he could get Miguel out of his shackles without a hitch, if the situation demanded it.

And once ready, both men made a descend downhill, threading carefully through the jungle to beckon closer into their common enemy's territory.

Miguel could sense Peter's discomfit as he pressed the weapon against his back.

"Relax. Once aboard, try to stick nearby."

The closer they got, the more men and noise they could hear.

"Round'em up boys, we gotta leave before midday!"

The captain shouted somewhere. The slaves, much to Peter's distraught, were held in chains, shackled in a bee line as they were pushed up aboard.

Miguel murmured little indications to Peter the more they ventured in everyone's radar. Bit by bit, they managed to sneak in the prisoner's registration under fake names.

They passed the first security filter without much trouble. Slowly but surely, the line grew shorter. El Aquelarre came into view and a chill ran down Miguel's spine.

It wasn't only the mysterious and supernatural aura that oozed from the black ship, but the feeling of something unknown calling him. Pulling him close like magnet. And then he saw him. Saw the man that had been chasing Mundaca for almost a decade.

Tall, dressed up in a crimson red coat, black pants and boots. A large and fat shiny feather adorning his triple black edged hat. A couple of talismans, and rhinestones necklaces adorned his tattooed neck and wrists.

Constantino was a good looking man. His eagle like nose, matched perfectly his symmetric squared face. Thin but pretty lush lips, hidden underneath a scruffy, thick beard. Bushy brows that could rival Miguel's, what stood out the most, however were his feline eyes rimmed in black.

Pale green that people often mistook for gold. Watching, ever mysterious and impassive his surroundings. A dangerous pretty man that wouldn't hesitate into sacrificing anything in the name of his beliefs. Leaning against a palm tree.

"Hold on... What was your name again?" The guard before them asked while he took Miguel by the nape and examined him.

"Johnson."

"Ah... Must be a new face 'cause I haven't see you around."

Peter scoffed nervously, "I was assigned up the state."

The guard tittered as he shoved Miguel inside, a couple of flogs were delivered by other armored men, the pirate hissed, his flesh had forgotten what was to take a taste of that whip's mean end. If anything Peter's accent was a bit too good. It suited him, sadly.

The quartermaster looked at Peter with a curious glance while circling him.

"You look familiar."

"I-I've been told I have a common face. Same for my cousin. We're-"

"Shut yer gob."

Peter obeyed as the man slapped disdainful his back. His heart beat increased a houndred per second.

"That uniform looks a bit too big on you, Pete."

The pirate looked at him, concerned despite his own pain. They were almost there. Freedom at the tip of his calloused fingers.

"Well," Peter swallowed as his eyes darted to Miguel, "Taking care of that bastard is a good workout. Specially when said fucking idiot keeps running away!"

The guard laughed merrily and squeezed his shoulders. Peter laughed and nodded with him.

"Oh, tell me about that. Chasing slaves is fun. We should get dogs to make a competition. Sadly, Pete..."

The merchant's face fell as soon as the quartermaster pulled out his gun and pointed it at Miguel.

"You'll have to go in the other ship. As much as I'd love to keep you both, and see you chasing that dumb mammoth, the brig's full. Ya get me?"

Miguel rose to his feet in a haste as the other guards tossed him outside the ship. He had to keep the calm despite the burning and scorching fury shouting to be unleashed. To teach them what he was made of.

"Tell Smith to take the rest to Olivares' ship."

"Yes, sir."

Peter didn't waste a second longer and told the guard behind, assuming he was the Smith guy, to take the remaining group of slaves towards the black and eerie ship.

He walked ahead of the group and sighed with relief, if it wasn't for his quick thinking and impersonation of a couple of his clients, who knows what would've happen.

The gun was pressed against Miguel's back and sighed

"Sorry for that. You ok?"

Miguel just nodded, a tad uncomfortable by the tingling burning in his skin and the fact that his plan was dramatically changing.

A crisp, strong and cold gust of air pushed both men forward, coaxing to approach faster. As if the universe was unable to wait a second longer for them to meet their fate and ebbed them to get inside as soon as possible.

Constantino's green eyes met Miguel's red ones for a brief second, clashing with unspoken grudge. The latter could see how El Brujo smirked as he was taken to the brig.

But little had realized Salazar that he had summoned yet another demon to his ship.

Miguel's mind was rampant. The moment he had stepped in the ship, his brain was already counting the men and recollecting as much information as he could swot on.

The guards, or rather the lack of them, made him frown. Were they on cover torturing the upcoming slaves? Probably. Or they could be in the weapon room, readying the canons and powder for defense.

Just as Miguel had said, the brig was located in the lower deck, and what he found there, churned Peter's heart with an uncomfortable stir.

Slaves. Grown men and youngsters all put in cages, like wild animals for a merciless and dehumanizing show. The ship hasn't even sailed yet, and their heads already had a price.

Each knew their fate. Spain, England even America and Cuba. Others hoped for a quick death, if the diseases and whipping on earth didn't, the injuries in their body would.

Some slaves looked up to meet their new trip colleagues with keen eyes, hoping for a novelty. And Miguel didn't disappoint. A collective round of hushed whispers in different languages echoed as he entered.

He was put on a cell with another young black man, and the rest was put in the remaining cages.

Silence reigned heavy in the brig once the guards left at haste. Curiously, if he had seen a couple of guards, was to say he'd seen too much of them. The ship was desolated. Even for a galley. But to Olivares, this seemed like another day.

Seconds and minutes dragged on too slow, but the hefty and slow steps from the darkened hall alerted the men.

All eyes could see the pair of beady glowing golden eyes, approaching, preying. The black and shiny feather on his hat waved at the beat of his walking.  Constantino was selecting the future sacrifice for his ship.

It was mandatory, since Olivares believed subjugated blood protected against all evil once in the sea.

His imposing frame blocked the view further to the darkened hall, emerging like if shadows themselves had spat him right before them. Beady and eerie eyes raked over the fine and twisted selection of men that stared back with fear. Green gold orbs glanced a little to long in Miguel's way, to then shift his eyes to a young man.

El Brujo had made his selection. With a snap of his fingers he pointed at the man and two guards came and fetched him. Needless to say the young slave fought, cried and asked for mercy. But it all fell upon deafening ears.

Miguel wasn't precisely a believer, he'd rather to not dwell too munch into things that didn't provide or granted him a purpose, food or money. But after seeing a mermaid with his own eyes, he couldn't remain completely skeptical to the mysterious ways of the world and how they wove it's intricate connections together.

The youngster was dragged away and the rest could only watch in fear silent. Making themselves as small as they could. They knew how things would end for their companion.

The rituals Constantino did, left the slaves trembling in fear. He'd start chanting in Latin, then have the man's throat slit and his blood smeared in whatever surface Olivares decided to put on, and then throw the body at the sea, to feed the monsters lurking underneath. Serving his purpose of sacrifice.

Peter returned a couple of hours later, with a disturbed and paling countenance, strong emotions surely made a show of his face.

Bile rose up his throat, like his discomfit. When he entered the brig every pair of eyes were on him as he quickly removed his coat, trying to break the link that tied him to that awful event, leaving his stained shirt with spots of long dried blood. He sat a few steps away of Miguel.

The latter didn't have to ask too much as to what had happened when Peter's hands did all the talking. There was blood in them. Dry and crusty flakes came off as the merchant rubbed them on his pants.

Olivares had ordered him to paint the ship's board with the young man's blood.

"He... He killed him." Peter stammered to then gulp the sudden lump tightening in his throat. His breath hitched.

"Of course he would. He's coo-coo on the head. He believes 'imself sorcerer or some shite like that."

The man next to him spoke, like the sacrificed man, he was young, didn't passed the nineteens, tall, lanky, some piercings on his face and tattoos on his marred and whipped flesh.

His hair was tucked back in a lose thick bun, thanks to his dreadlocks. His eyes dark, ever pondering and assessing the situation before him.

"Then how do'ya explain we survived  that... monster of storm, Hobie?!" Another man with a heavy accent spoke, and some nodded as if encouraging the questioning.

"Cause it's a sturdy ship, you twat, it's well built!. Spain has the best craftsmen in the navy." The man shrugged nonchalantly.

"He hunted down a monster!"

That perked Miguel's ears. "What monster?"

Peter and the man next to him looked with a quirked brow his way. Miguel didn't strike as someone gullible for such nonsense.

"I don't know, man. But the storm was so strong the ship nearly sinks. All we could hear was screams and some guards saying, 'we've got her.' And then? The biggest and meanest of waves start hitting and wipes half the crew!"

Miguel blinked almost dumbly. 

"This ship's hunted cause that Olivar man has made a pact with the devil."

"It's a rumor, Adé." Hobie mumbled, a little annoyed they couldn't see past superstition.

"It is not! Think about it! This famous pirate dies, and all these... mysterious things start happening at sea. Ships start sinking, waves turn bigger and bigger each storm, just cause they saw this... monster."

"Are you forgetting we nearly drown, ship an all? The sea is angry!. And since this... Captain captured whatever, it's even angrier at us. He shouldn't be a fool and trust demons to take care of us and return that thing to where it belongs!"

The other slaves nodded. Superstition was rampant in every ship Miguel visited. But again, he simply couldn't remain a non believer forever when a mermaid ate his quartermaster before him and everyone aboard his forsaken ship.

While the chained men discussed other underworld like stories, Miguel scooted closer to a much more calm Peter.

"How many men you saw?" he asked in a low, almost hushed voice.

"Like twenty five, including the captain. Most are in their barracks."

Miguel nodded with an emerging idea in his mind. The slaves were bigger than the crew itself if he could convince them to join his cause, not only would they be free, but he'd have a temporary ship to finally get his own back.

But would they follow him?

That was a significant question. If there was something life had taught him, was to preach with an example. Only then he'd get the right people to get his goal achieved.

"What're ya planning?" Hobie spoke as he kept glancing to the door.

"Excuse me?" His bushy brow quirked with disdain.

"Excused. What're ya are planning?"

Miguel remained quiet for a bit. The young man had spoken enough to prove himself a rational and quick thinker, and his knowledge of ships didn't go unnoticed.

"Escaping and seizing the ship."

Hobie couldn't help but titter quietly on Miguel's words.

"Well, break a leg, mate." He shook his head.

Miguel shrugged as Peter begun lock picking his shackles. Mirth slowly left Hobie's body, surprise and hope took over.

"Wait. wait... What are you doing?"

"Escaping, to seize the ship."

"Wait!" Hobie demanded once more, turning the whole attention the attention of the whole group towards them.

"Have you even seen the pigs outside? They're armored to the teeth! They'll kill you."

"I rather fuck around to find out than dying to a man's madness, boy."

The shackles embracing his wrist possessively, fell to the floor. Defeated.

"Will you get us out of here?"

"Please! Get us out!"

The slaves begun pleading, raising their voices and Miguel roared with his commanding voice.

"Cállense!" (Shut up)

Peter looked outside the door as quiet returned to the brig. With a deep inhale, Miguel spoke.

"If we want to get out, you'll listen. Understood?

Mostly nodded.

"I can't free you out just yet." Some faces fell, other sighed with resignation, "I need to confirm the information first, we need to be careful. If we get caught, we all die. Simple as that."

"How can we know this white man won't sell us out?"

Another collective rounds of nodding flooded the future crew.

"Cause he was beaten and press ganged by the english too. He's a merchant not a guard."

"And a locksmith." Peter quipped, trying to clean his sudden reputation.

"You said the waves wiped half the crew right?" the man nodded, "Peter here says it's twenty five men in total, including the captain."

"We're more than them?" Hobie asked, nonplussed for a second.

"Apparently. That's why I wanna go and see myself, cause if it's true, we can take this ship to ourselves."

"Now you're the crazy one." Another man spoke.

Miguel's brows furrowed with annoyance, tired of the pessimistic thinking when the chance laid obvious and ahead of them.

"I'll make it simple for you. If we don't succeed we'll get to either Spain, England or Cuba, where each of you will get at much three hundred for your head, if you're not injured." Some men recoiled at the information,

"Some won't even endure the first month of labor under the english. You think Spaniards and Cuban are bad? Wait for you to be at the hands of British."

He stood and Peter opened the door's cell. His true seize standing proud among the rest. Some gasped.

"If you want a number define your value, be my guest. The less useless in my way, the better." Miguel smoothed his wrists and moved them to stretch his fingers.

"But if you want to live and experience life out of those shackles, you'll wait till I return and act like nothing happened in the meantime, understood?"

Hobie chuckled and nodded. The rest followed with a new sense of renewed hope.

"Aye, sir." He saluted.

Sneaking out wasn't hard, but keeping himself hidden proved to be rather tricky.

Narrow and wooden halls extended left and right, and after what it felt hours he cleared the weaponry room, seizing some for himself. A short ranged knife and a rope. The pistols would be fetched later, when the heist would start. For now, he'd need to be as quiet as possible.

The brig was the extension of the armory. Canons and rifles laid in every direction his eyes landed. All left behind by a wiped crew.

The creaking door however made him hide under the gunpowder barrels, the tinkering of rhinestones and talismans made his breath hitch. He saw Salazar going further the room, and then he disappeared in plain sight.

Confused, Miguel snuck closer and he pressed an ear on the wall.

There were definitely steps and voices. Salazar spoke, and another door was opened.

How could he disappear and be in another place?

His brows puckered and soon his hands pressed against the wall. Taunting and feeling for any irregularity in it. A little current of air flowing in a side made him blink.

A hidden passage. Of course.

He pushed the apparent sturdy wall and to his surprise it budged enough to create an opening to another hall. He sidled inside and hid behind some boxes.

He could see the hall empty, candle lit by the lamps etched to the walls. Floor damp, the saline water pungent.

Was he on the bilge?

Salazar's feather bounced as he walked behind the sturdy door. There was no room for doubts.

With careful steps he approached the end of the hall and snuck in last minute before the door closed with a loud thud.

He hid once more under a pile of musty ropes and ammo. The room was lit up in a cold hue of blue. The crystal-like resin Constantino used to lit the lamp, sparked in a pale blue and aqua sparks, cracking merrily as the fire consumed it within the translucent goblet, amplifying the magnitude of the illumination.

"Cuando lleguemos, la reina no tendrá más opción que darme todo lo que le pida. Ya que te rehúsas a cumplir mis deseos, veremos si desafías a la corona." (When we arrive? The queen will have no choice but to give me everything I ask for. Since you refuse to grant my wishes, let's see if you refuse The Crown)

Miguel could see Olivares from a slit between the ropes.

A deaf thud echoed and Salazar let out an ominous yet rich laugh. Way too entertained.

"Aunque me encantaría que me consumas, aún tengo otros planes en mente." (Although I'd love to be consumed by you, I've still got other plans in mind for you)

Without much say, Olivares left after turning off the resin again. Letting the room to drown in darkness once more.

When Miguel was sure none would come again, he stepped out of his hiding spot and approached the goblet, he had no immediate fire, but knew how to start one. It was one of the first things Mundaca taught him.

He took two pieces of resin and crashed them together until sparks flew again. Illuminating the room with the soft blue hue again.

The clinking of chains demanded his attention. And his heart nearly stopped at the sight.

It couldn't be, could it?

Cruelly chained by your neck and wrists, with heavy links attached to the floor, allowing minimum movement. A hook trespassed the fin of your tail, nearby it's start, holding you in place from a corner.

Defeated, beaten and bleeding; trapped behind thick walls of glass that provided a clear image of your overall state.

Tortured and injured.

You were real. Mermaids were real. And they bled.

You bled.

He didn't have to repeat himself that they weren't real to try and justify your mere existence. Not when you laid before his eyes. Subjugated, demoralized and meek. A demure creature far too different from the monster he met at the ship.

But instead of feeling joy and that twisted sense of pride for a fellow human to have captured you and had your will broken, something else nested in his chest.

Compassion and confusion.

How had Constantino achieved his younger self's dream? How was this possible?

He stepped closer and his breath hitched for a second time. For once in forever, your eyes met his.

Acknowledging eachother.

Taglist:

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[cherryredstars]

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Nine)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content/CW: Fluff + Angst. Breeding kink, Rough Sex, Possessive Sex, Tongue Play, Creampie, Strong Aftercare.

‘Arañita… I’m, not sure I’m ready for this.’

Mig’s soft voice caught you off guard. You were busy getting dressed in the corner of the den, shifting out of your spider suit into something more casual, and you hadn’t noticed Mig had started anxiously fidgeting in his own unique way.

He’d used his webs to hang his body upside-down from the ceiling, and he was now swinging back and forth with his head barely an inch away from the floor, trying to imitate a spider hanging in mid-air.

He was slowly spinning in a circle, his arms folded and his eyes closed, his brow knotted in thought.

You couldn’t help it; the sight of him made you melt, and a soft giggle spluttered from your lips. You hid it with your hand but Mig was quick to notice.

‘Mm?’ he grunted, carefully opening one big, red eye. ‘Arañita, did you hear me?’

‘Mhm. I sure did’ you said, pushing down your laughter as you approached. You sank down to your knees and shifted his head so that it was laying in your lap, allowing you to comb his hair through with your fingers. He looked nervous at first, his big red eyes peering up at you in this odd position, but the longer you preened him the softer he became.

Eventually, his eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting to reveal his teensy little fangs peeking out. You smiled.

‘I refuse to believe hanging like that is comfortable’ you whispered gently against his forehead. Miguel grumbled.

‘It is not, but- my instincts desire me to try it. It is… comforting, if not comfortable.’

‘You’re really freaking out that badly?’

As you stroked his head back and forth Miguel nodded again, his red eyes slowly blinking open to peer up at you above him.

‘Yes, mi tesoro. I am… Quite, freaked out, as you say.’

You sighed and slowly nodded back. ‘Yeah… Yeah, me too, honestly.’

You didn’t blame Mig for being nervous. It wasn’t objectively meant to be that scary, but oh god it was. Gabriel had asked you, Mig, and Miguel to try and visit his baby daughter Micaela now that they’d been reunited. Since the little girl was sick and Mig was, well, Mig, a giant 9ft spider hybrid, they’d all agreed it would be easier to keep her in her own universe, and have you, Mig and Miguel visit via a portal.

They’d calibrated the coordinates so that they could drop in onto the roof of the hospital she was being kept at, avoiding any onlookers or hospital staff, and Gabriel would meet them there to just hang out and get to know the little girl they were now working to save.

It was a nice idea, and nobody could say no to Gabriel’s big puppy-dog eyes, but it was also taking a toll on Mig.

He had only just started interacting with people again, and outside you and Miguel his socialization was still pretty limited. The spider society were more accepting than most, and even there he was largely relegated to looks of fear and morbid curiosity. He wasn’t a real ‘person’ to many of them.

Any but you, that is, and that meant the idea of trying to interact with a baby was terrifying, especially when he felt like it needed to go right. This was his niece after all.

‘You got this, Miggy’ you whispered, sensing his silence. Mig had started disassociating and his eyes were growing dilated, but at the sound of your voice he blinked them back to normal.

You felt his soft, thick hair nestling against your thighs as he craned his neck to see you better. When you brushed his cheek with your fingers, he purred.

‘Mm… I hope you are right, arañita’ he murmured softly. ‘I just- if I upset my brothers offspring—’

‘Do you have to say offspring, sweetheart?’ you giggled, lightly cutting him off. Mig purred a little louder and shifted on your lap.

‘What, am I not supposed to say that?’

‘You say baby, sweetheart. Just say baby’ you insisted, still giggling a little from how sweet that enormous beast looked on your lap.

He tilted his head and grunted. ‘I… I will, try, I suppose, if you believe it may offend my brother otherwise.’

‘Not offend, just… might confuse him, is all. Don’t worry.’

You took another quiet moment to comb out his hair while he closed his eyes and relished the touch. It was a peaceful moment, in the warmth of your den.

‘… I, um…’

You paused, unsure of what to say. Neither you nor Mig had acknowledged your awkward love confession since it happened, not really, beyond agreeing it just wasn’t the right time to acknowledge it. This was fine, but you kept feeling the urge to say you loved him now that it’d been said once, and without that discussion you weren’t sure if you could say it or not.

Mig opened his eyes and peered up at you again. You didn’t need words at this point. Mig read your thoughts with ease.

‘… Mi tesoro’ he whispered smoothly, reaching one large, calloused hand up to cup your cheek. ‘Tú eres mi corazón, arañita. No lo dudes.’

You smiled a little wider as your heart swelled. ‘Mi corazón’ you whispered back.

You leaned down to kiss him, his claws drawing your face towards his own, when—

‘EY! Are you home?’

You both jumped in surprise at the sound of Miguel’s voice drifting in from the top of your nest. You reluctantly let Mig go and helped him stumble onto his eight fluffy legs, before rushing to the entrance to greet your slightly unexpected friend.

‘Miguel! Hey, down here!’

He was standing at the entrance to the nest with folded arms. His eyes kept roaming around the forest, almost as if he were nervous, but the moment he saw you he stopped and fixated. His face turned quiet, polite, verging on perhaps affectionate, as he curled his lip and helped pull you out of the hole.

‘I was worried you’d be late’ he grunted, swiftly putting you to the side before reaching to help Mig. The great spider took his hand, but, it was clear he didn’t need the help, and assumed instead that Miguel simply wanted to hold hands.

 Miguel was left slightly flustered with his comparatively smaller hand in Mig’s as his enormous variant beamed with joy, and you struggled not to break down laughing.

‘Can- can we just, go, please?’ Miguel hissed, far too awkward to break the contact. You nodded.

‘Yeah, uh- don’t worry I can set up the portal’ you said, refusing to give Miguel any excuse to let go. He was left with a sour, confused expression as Mig held him tight, unaware that this wasn’t what he’d wanted.

You input the exact coordinates as given and created a portal, and without further delay, all three of you stepped inside. Miguel used this as his excuse to break Mig’s grip.

You all stepped through with relative ease, out of the cool, misty mountain woods and out into the head of the hospital roof, with the tarmac wavering ever so slightly with heat lines beneath the clear blue sky.

You could hear traffic, distant cries and calls, and could smell gas and street food. 

It smelled like the city all right. You’d been in Miguel’s home so long you’d almost forgotten it.

‘Ah- Dios mio, Aquí huele fatal eh?’ Mig grunted as he stepped through. His higher senses were delicate from a decade of living in the woods, and you saw him do a little shudder with his abdomen as the smell assaulted him.

Miguel grunted, but quickly took a sympathetic stance with the giant shuddering spider. ‘te acostumbrarás’ he muttered back.

‘Ay, eso espero’ Mig replied.

‘HERMOSO! You made it!’

The three of you jumped as you saw the hospital door swing open, revealing the glowing, grinning face of Gabriel as he stormed up towards you, his arms filled with a soft little bundle of blankets.

You immediately felt the tension rise. Oh boy, here we go.

‘Hermosito’ Miguel and Mig said in unison. They shot each other a glance while Gabriel just chuckled.

‘Ey, I’m glad you found your way here quickly. The nurses are on break so I managed to break ‘er out pretty easily, and they shouldn’t be up here at any point’ Gabriel said as he approached. ‘So, did you guys get here okay?’

‘Yes, we- literally just portalled in. It took less than a second’ Miguel replied, as he noticed that Mig was too spellbound by the bundle to say a thing.

‘Oh, right! The portals. I don’t know how you guys

‘So, how’s the uh- the work been going?’ Gabriel asked as he shifted the bundle. You could see Mig craning to try and see the baby while doing a poor job of looking like he wasn’t, while Miguel was overtly trying to avoid looking at it. You kept your giggles to yourself. Sweet boys, you thought. Your sweet, dumb boys.

‘It has been, ah—’

‘Satisfactory’ Mig said, cutting Miguel off. ‘Yes, we’ve drafted some plans to approach the issue, based on the uh- blood samples you sent us. It is, quite nasty, but—’

‘We can do it’ Miguel said, butting in with his calm, cool confidence. Gabriel beamed.

‘Ah, wonderful! Well, how about- you guys meet your little patient then’ he said, and without further ado, he began to peel back the blankets while shielding her from the sun. You could almost feel the boys tensing up with a wild mixture of emotions. Fear, apprehension, excitement, a giddy well of feelings for this one tiny thing.

The blanket peeled back, bit by bit, and there she was.

Mig’s eyes almost dilated at the sight.

She was so small, even by baby standards. Micaela was just a tiny little thing, with delicate little fingers and big brown eyes darting about her new surroundings, quivering slightly in her covers. She had the same dark hair as Gabriel, with slightly darker skin, looking like a real mini O’Hara in the making.

You weren’t sure what to do but ‘aw’, until you were abruptly distracted by an unusual sound.  

You glanced up and noticed that Mig seemed to be… purring? He was vibrating softly, his back legs tapping and rustling. It was something you’d never seen him do before. You’d seen him purr, sure, but this was new. It was like a cat admiring its kittens.

‘You want to hold her, hermoso?’ Gabriel said cheerily as he approached. Gabriel looked happy about the idea, but as he got closer Mig instinctively took a step back, his hands raised high.

‘N-No, no, Gabriel I- I’m too…’ Mig stammered to a halt. His wide eyes were fixed on that baby.

‘Hey, Miggy, it’s okay’ you whispered. You put a hand on his side and held him tight. ‘It’s—’

‘Ay Dios mio- let me.’

You were suddenly but gently pushed aside as Miguel moved forward, taking control as always. He stepped up and grabbed Mig’s hands, dragging him down until his spider legs buckled and folded, and with a stiff lip, he began positioning him.

‘You put your hand- like this, remember to support the head and neck, keep her close to your torso, and be careful of wriggling.’

He listed everything off with unnerving precision as he forced Mig into the right stance, but when he turned to help transfer the girl from Gabriel’s hands, he faltered. His stony, calm expression melted, his eyes widening and wavering a little in the bright sun.

The little girl cooed and waved her hands as she fixated on Miguel, but the moment Gabriel moved her closer to Mig, she began squirming in fear. She didn’t cry but she did let out a few dangerous warbles, like she was about to, and Gabriel was forced to reluctantly pull her back.

‘Ah! Sorry, it- I guess she’s, not used to the uh… size, and the… spideryness’ Gabriel murmured.

You saw Mig falter, his body curling in on itself. He stopped his soft purring and glanced down at his claws, his furry abdomen, his body in comparison to everyone else’s. You instinctively pressed in at his side and tried to comfort him by hugging his enormous abdomen.

‘Ah… yes. I, forgot, for a moment’ Mig murmured. In truth, part of him had expected the baby to have the same instinctive familial reaction he’d had.

As if trying to avoid it getting more awkward, Gabriel instead turned to Miguel. ‘Hey! It’s fine, uh- we’ll try again in a minute. Miguel! You try holding her for a bit instead. Maybe it’ll help.’

You could see it from your vantage point against Mig’s side. You saw Miguel’s lip tremble ever so slightly, the way his stiff shoulders deflated. You saw the flash of humanity in his eyes, and so did Gabriel. He didn’t say a thing.

Whether he said anything or not, it didn’t matter. As a dad himself now, and especially as a dad with a child in a precarious situation, he knew the eyes Miguel was making.

‘Hermoso’ he whispered in a gentler tone, gently lifting Micaela to be taken. Miguel swallowed so hard his Adam's apple jolted, but eventually he caved, and slowly lifted the girl into his arms.

The way he held her betrayed an instinctive understanding of childcare. His careful, perfectly planned cupping, the way he stabilized the head and her bottom while keeping her close to his chest. He rocked her with expert timing, and soon she was cooing sleepily in his arms.

You weren’t sure if anyone else saw it, but you saw something strange in his eyes at that moment. Some deep, unfathomable pit of longing, a rush of melancholic joy.

‘Arrorró mi niña’ he whispered against her forehead, forgetting that anyone else was even there. You noticed Gabriel smiling sadly.

‘Arrorró mi niña, arrorró mi sol… arrorró pedazo, de mi corazón.’

Miguel whispered it all in the hopes that no one else would hear, but you could see his lips moving slowly as he rocked the frail baby girl in his arms.

You continued lightly stroking Mig’s side, and bit by bit he calmed down. He might not be able to hold her, but right now… well, this was okay. This was acceptable. He watched Miguel, a smaller carbon copy of himself, and pretended it was him holding the infant instead.

Miguel clung to Micaela for a few minutes, silently whispering and shushing as she cooed and squirmed. She got drool all over his suit, but he didn’t care one bit. Beneath the sun, holding that baby who looked at least a little like someone who he once knew and loved with all his heart, he felt the most overwhelming sense of peace.

It hurt, but… it hurt good.

He gave himself another peaceful minute before realizing he needed to let go, or he might never be able to find the strength to give her up.

‘Oye! You, your turn’ Miguel grunted as he turned towards you. You blanked as you saw his claw pointing in your direction.

‘Wha- no! No, no, don’t be silly, this is your guy’s thing, it’s not- AH!’

Miguel dragged you up and threw you under his arm like luggage, something that a man of his size could just do, and despite your grumbling he carried you over and sat you down on the floor beside Mig’s little forelegs.

‘This is a group thing, you participate in group things’ Miguel said sternly.

With utmost care, Miguel lifted the little baby Micaela up and gently lowered her down into your own stiff and waiting arms. You saw him stiffen his lip as he gently nudged your fingers into the right position, wordlessly moving your body like a mannequin, until at last she was laid down in your arms to rest.

You remained stiff, terrified of doing even the most minor thing wrong.

Micaela stared back with those wide, gormless eyes, her fist in her mouth and her other hand lightly tucked to her chest. You blanked fully.

‘Ah… aha, uh… hi?’ you murmured to the baby, as if she’d somehow respond. Miguel pinched his brow. ‘Dios mío, este idiota…’

Micaela was silent for another few seconds before suddenly squealing. She babbled and began pawing at you, her big eyes roaming over your face with a deep, innocent curiosity.

Bit by bit, you relaxed.

‘She, ah… she is kinda cute, huh?’ you chuckled.

‘Did you, just realize that?’ Miguel asked in that quietly sarcastic tone of his. He dropped down to a squat so he could watch more closely with Gabriel at his side, and despite being a little grumpy earlier he managed to shoot you a small smile.

‘I mean… I guess, yeah’ you replied softly, not wanting to disturb her as she tugged at your suit.

‘Word of advice, ah- babies are always cute, whether you think so or not. Especially when their parent is beside you’ Miguel whispered back. You couldn’t hide your giggle, nor the way your eyes began to light up as Miguel gently mouthed your suit, settling right into your stiff arms.

‘Yeah… she’s cute’ you whispered. ‘She’s real cute.’

Micaela then decided to reach up and slap your face, causing you to splutter.

‘BLAGH- HEY—’

The little girl squealed with excitement and began slapping your face more, grabbing at your nose and patting your lips, nearly poking your eye out as she babbled curiously. You just let it happen, all while giggling and spluttering your words.

‘Oh- shes- great, yep- blegh- she’s a real- character-ACK—’

Miguel hid his mouth as he smiled while Gabriel laughed out loud.

In that quiet moment, you didn’t see Mig watching you like a hawk, with those wide, dilated red eyes almost unblinking in their fixation.

He watched the smile on your face, the way you shrugged awkwardly and tried your best to keep Micaela safe and sturdy, the way you let her jab her fingers in your face and splutter with muted giggles.

He watched, quiet and contemplative.

‘Are we going to talk about what you said?’

Ay, mi amor, there is nothing to be said about it. I don’t need to say it. I know it to be true, Mig thought to himself. He felt a load on his heart slowly lighten.

He’d been so afraid of loss, but seeing this… Seeing you, cradling his niece, giggling with his brother, and shrugging and joking and showing the same tenderness you’d always shown…

I don’t think you’re scary.

Mig flashed back to the way you’d looked at him the first day you met. That sweet, awkward but polite smile, slowly fading into one of genuine compassion.

And then, for a moment, he remembered his life for the past decade or more. Sitting alone in the woods, waiting, praying, sadly strumming his webs alone as he begged for anyone to come, anyone to even see him, let alone love him.

It was a cold memory. A pit, a void, he thought he’d never escape.

But he had.

He sat here now, beneath the sun on the hospital roof, with his family. With his niece, his brother, his strange bitter variant, and… you. You.

The reason he was here at all. Sitting cross-legged on the hot tarmac, nestled in the shade of his gargantuan shadow, holding that baby in your arms as she gurgled and drooled on your suit, looking as patient as possible.

That baby… what if… you could hold his baby like that too…

He lulled as he felt the warm sun heating the dark fur on his abdomen, and he began to subtly vibrate. It started in his front paws and went all the way back to his little stubby end, just a subtle shake, as he felt truly, utterly content for the first time.

‘Oh, hey! Look who’s after her tío!’

Mig blinked and glanced over to see that Micaela was finally looking up at him from within your grip, her fist in her mouth as she gurgled. She wasn’t screaming or shying away in fear anymore. No, now she looked curious.

‘Ey, Miguelito! Try holding her’ Gabriel whispered with a hand cupping his mouth.

Mig went stiff, but you slowly rose up to your feet with Micaela in your hands and Miguel helping you balance by steadying your arms. You walked right up to Mig while bouncing Micaela.

‘Here, Miggy. Look, she wants to say hi.’

Mig stiffened further, but not out of fear. He froze because, for just a moment, he saw what could almost be called a vision.

He saw it. You, walking up to him, holding your child, his beautiful little offspring that you made with him, holding it up for him to take. Your child. His child. With your delicate touch and patient smile, and those beautiful dimples on your cheeks, cradling the babe you both loved so dearly.

In a world where nothing mattered but you, and him. A sweet, domestic picture, where you sat outside your nest, your home, and rocked his baby beside him.

In a near daze he held out his hands, and he allowed you to carefully put Micaela into them. You kept your hands over his as he cupped her head, neck, and bottom, pulling her right up to his enormous, muscled chest.

She looked so, so tiny against him, like a mouse, but he cupped her with a care that seemed almost impossible for someone of his size. Micaela lay and gurgled and cooed between the two of you, her little legs and fists flailing. When you looked up at Mig there were barely a few inches between your face and his.

‘Hey… Look, she likes you’ you whispered, smiling up at Mig’s dumbstruck face. He didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his red eyes wide and his lips slightly parted, as he held his family. As he held you. As he watched you giggle and stroke her little tufty hair, as he watched your smile and the creases by your eyes.

‘… Yes. Yes, she- she seems less, afraid’ Mig murmured. He reluctantly looked away from you just to focus briefly on his darling little niece. He let his thumb stroke her side, her fists, admiring her tiny fingers and tiny toes in her little one-piece.

His breath became a little shaky as he really, truly took in what was happening right now.

‘She… yes, she…’

He stumbled on his words as Micaela reached up and put her fist on his cheek. He went still. He went silent.

You watched Mig’s eyes dilate like a cat, widening until it looked near painful. His lips moved but no sound came out. He just stared, feeling those tiny fingers on his rough skin, that sweet little face grumbling and drooling in his grip.

‘Ah…. A-ah…’

‘Bah!’

Micaela squirmed and squealed, gently slapping his face. Mig looked like he might cry. ‘Ah… m-mi sobrinita’ he choked, ‘No dejaré que nada te lastime. Prometo… prometo.’

Micaela drooled all over his finger, making a mess as she slapped him and pawed at his giant fingers, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. You watched him as his lips turned into a smile, as he relished this moment, the moment he never thought he’d feel.

He’d experienced true joy, and he never wanted to go back again.

Mig was quiet for the rest of the session. He was quiet as Micaela eventually started to bawl her little eyes out, and Gabriel said she needed to be taken back to her room. He was quiet as you said goodbye to Gabriel, as Miguel offered a parting grumble, and he was quiet even as you opened your own portal back to your home in the woods.

You stepped through the portal back to the forest clearing with Mig at your back, and it was only then that you noticed he’d been especially quiet.

‘You okay, Miggy?’

Mig jumped a little and glanced down. He saw your face was concerned and he forced a smile. ‘Ah- yes, mi a- mi tesoro. I’m well’ he murmured.

‘You sure?’

‘Yes. Yes… I’m, very good, in fact’ he whispered calmly, and he meant it. You smiled and continued walking.

‘Okay, good. Good. I’m tryna trust you here! I’m putting my faith in you telling the truth. So, what did you think? She’s sweet right?’

Mig slowly nodded, but he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting further. I want you. I want you, arañita. I love you.

‘Ah, yes, she- she was, very sweet. Such an, optimistic babe, given her circumstances’ Mig replied quietly.

‘I know! I was so surprised. I mean she had to leave pretty quickly, and Gabriel said we caught her on a good day, but…’

As you continued rambling on about the day on the trek towards the nest, Mig found himself losing focus again. He just couldn’t stop the growing urge in his body.

It wasn’t the rut. It wasn’t that simple, not at all. It was something… more. It was instinct and emotion, the powerful conjoined feeling of love and primal desire. It was love, it was lust, it was a need. It was itching for you. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Eventually, you noticed his silence again, and you paused to try and speak to him.

‘Mig, are you—’

You squeaked in shock as something hard hit your back.

You were winded as you hit the bark of a tree, the same tree against which Mig had taken you the first time. It took you a second or two to realize what was happening.

Mig had pinned you to the tree.

You felt hot breath on your neck, breath that moved down your nape to your forehead as his enormous body arched. You could feel the immense weight, the unfathomable strength. It was like being pinned by a car. You felt utterly powerless.

‘Mig?’

‘Shh.’

You felt that strange, alien abdomen shaking as he moved closer, rustling like a rattlesnake. You heard his furry legs shifting, pattering, tapping a rhythm on the ground as he kept you steady. Your gut instinctively tightened.

Oh, god, how you loved that sound.

‘Mig? Are you—’

‘Shh…’

‘Is- a-are you rutting—’

‘No.’

Mig held you close as he breathed in your scent, huffing the top of your forehead like he wanted to saturate his lungs with it. He was panting softly, his rough lips tasting your skin as he drifted down your face from above.

‘Mine…’

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

‘Mine.’

You felt his rough claws digging in, tearing your clothes into little shreds. He ripped them aside piece by piece, and with each bit that came loose, he squeezed, as if he wanted to imprint his hand into every inch of flesh you had to offer.

The chill air nipped at your skin as you were drawn to nakedness against the tree, and all you could do was whine and pant.

‘Miggy, ah—’

‘Mine.’

He whispered it with absolute resolve, right as he tore the final bit of clothing aside. He then squeezed out some of his silky thread, using it to stick you in place so his hand could grasp your jaw in its grip, forcing you to face him.

His eyes were burning, but he didn’t smell like rut. This was new.

‘Miggy?’ you whispered, gently stroking his face. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch.

‘I… I-I want, that’ he whispered, now surer than ever of what he needed most.

‘Want, w-what, Mig?’

‘That. I want… that’ he repeated, his soft eyes closing as he nestled into your neck. ‘What we just saw. What Gabriel has. I want… I want you. I want YOU, arañita.’

Your ribs heaved as he held you close to his body, his sweaty abs slowly moving up and down against your belly as he gripped you.

‘I… I want you too, Mig, I-'

‘No. Listen.’

You went silent as his claws gripped a little harder. You heard him growling, a low, primal gurgle in the back of his throat.

‘That little girl is sick. Their life may end in tragedy’ Mig whispered in his usual blunt fashion, a sentiment that quickly made you tense.

‘M-Miggy this isn’t very, romantic, ah—’

‘Listen to me’ he said, his voice now firm as he squeezed you tighter. You squeaked and went silent.

‘… It may end in tragedy. But it was worth it. Looking at that little girl, my blood, my brother’s offspring, I… I understood. I am so afraid of loss, that I feel no joy could ever be worth the price. But I was wrong.’

His claws dug in tight as he lifted you up the tree, his eyes fixed on your face as he embraced your naked body against his own. The little shiver in his spine went all the way down to his abdomen, and he trembled with yearning, his fur bristling in the sweet autumn chill. You felt his sharp claws gently stroking you, his thumb going up and down your waist.

‘I was wrong’ he repeated in a breathy, husky voice, right against your lips. ‘You, are worth it. No matter what comes, no matter what happens in the end, you are worth it. I want that future with you.’

He squeezed so hard his claws gently pierced your side, his breath coming out in a frantic near sob as his emotion took over. He was filled with a fever, his eyes tinged pink beneath the red hues.

‘I want that world with you. That sweet, simple domesticity. To sit beneath the sun.’

As he held you taut to the tree trunk he began unintentionally oozing web from his forelegs, his pedipalps sticking you to place. You were stuck between his huge, muscled form, his sweaty skin sticking to your own, and the hard tree at your back.

‘Miggy’ you whimpered. Your eyes rolled as he pushed closer, whispering those sweet words as he stuck you to him, possessively trapping you in his web.

‘I want you’ he groaned, ‘and I don’t care if we’re a universe apart. I’ll do anything to right that wrong. ANYTHING. Because you were made for me.’

‘Miggy…’

Your eyelids drooped as he moved closer. You felt the deeply arousing sensation of his slit separating, as his erect cock pushed out and sprung to its fullest length, gently twitching between your thighs. You willingly parted them.

‘I... I want you too, Miggy’ you whined.

You felt him pushing in as he whispered, his soft little abdomen arching and bucking to push his thick, throbbing erection between your plush thighs, nudging at your entrance. You saw his eyes get darker as he pumped that warm, velvety round tip inside, feeling the hot, heavy warmth surrounding him, feeling your body give way to his persistence.

‘I... I want to us. A unit. A-A family…’

He pushed deeper, feeling the soft muscle split, feeling your breath catch as he entered. His clawed fingers wound themselves into your hair as he gasped. He held you as close as he could while his spider body bristled and vibrated, slowly but surely committing to the mating.

‘Quiero hacerte mia, arañita, mi arañita, y quiero que me hagas tuyo’ he softly whispered right into your ear, his breath stirring the nerves there until your spine arched.

You cried out without thinking, unable to resist any longer.

‘F-Fucckkk- I love you, Mig, I-I love you—’

He pushed in until he could fit no more, leaving you bound and stuffed with his thick phallus. The sensation forced you to cry out those last words.

He paused there, strangely, pulling back to let his eyes roam. You couldn’t help but flush as he gently shifted his abdomen, watching the base of his cock appear and then disappear back inside you.

You oomphed at the pressure. No matter how often you did this, it was still a shock.

He had a look of deep, absolute satisfaction on his face. When he moved it again, just by an inch, admiring the bulge in your belly, he looked… affectionate.

‘Mmm…’

He looked back up, his claws stroking and admiring every inch of you. He gently brushed over your folds, your clit, admiring the way you squeaked. He loved that sound. He stroked up over your hips, feeling the fat and muscles between his fingers. He loved that feeling. He brushed up your waist, your chest, to your face, until your glazed-over eyes met his.

‘I love you too, mi arañita’ he whispered with utmost affection.

His eyes softened as he held your gaze. He wanted you to look at him, that monstrous mutant, the man who valued you above all else, as he began this ritual all over again.

‘I will have you now, mi amor’ he purred softly, his shoulder muscles rippling as he rolled them. ‘And I will have you, forever.’

With a soft growl, he started to slowly move in and out. You couldn’t stop the moan that flew from your lips, echoing through the open forest. Mig didn’t seem to care.

The squelch was unbearably lewd this time, the thick, wet sound of his plush cock squishing up to kiss your cervix and then back down again.

You were used to him going into a kind of haze, where he’d thrust and pump himself in an almost animalistic sense and then shower you with affection, but this was different.

He was so attentive this time. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and your lips, smothering you in gentle pecks and breathy little kisses, and his hands squeezed and soothed you as he moved. He let you taste his hot breath as he panted in time with each thrust.

‘Mi, amor… mi amor, mi arañita…’

As he got faster, he started to part his lips, tenderly pulling you into a deeper kiss.

You could feel his abdomen brushing your spread legs as he started to fuck faster, harder, his lips warm but rough on your own. It was like he wanted to eat you up then and there.

You squeaked as his lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. He was ravenous, licking your teeth and your tongue and your gums. Every time he pulled back there was a string of alive between you, one that he licked into his mouth before kissing you again.

‘More… m-more…’

He whined pathetically despite his size, his domineering strength, as he begged for more of you. Your spit, your slick, your sweat, he wanted every inch. You were his.

‘Mi arañita…’

He pulled back from the kiss just to roughly bite and kiss your neck, showering you in soft little puncture wounds from your jaw to your collarbones. When you tried to kiss back he reared up and hissed against your cheek, his possessive flare showing once more. You moaned and backed down.

‘Mine… m-mine…’

His words got less coherent as he hissed, making you stare into his eyes as he mated with you. He even leaned in to kiss you with his eyes open, kissing your lower lip and then your upper lip all while forcing you to watch him moving, fucking, pulsing.

His affection and instinct turned nuclear as he got rougher, faster.

All he could think about was seeing you here, in his den, safe and warm and smiling. He wanted to wake up beside you, he wanted to bring you little treats every day, he wanted to watch you-

He wanted to watch you get full, swollen, and heavy with his offspring. He wanted those little eggs, he wanted to watch them hatch, he wanted to watch you carefully cupping his little baby the way you held Gabriel’s.

Part of him was almost jealous. He couldn’t stand seeing you hold anything but his child, the one he made with you, the one with your eyes and his fangs. The one he put inside you.

He wanted you filled with his seed, filled with his eggs. No more waiting. No more. His instincts were killing him. You were his mate, his MATE.

‘Uh- uh- uh- UH—’

He kept kissing even as he bucked inside you, now moving with such fever that your teeth kept clacking and smashing as he wound his tongue around yours.

He kissed until all you could taste was his mouth, all you could feel was his sweaty, tensed abs imprinted on your belly, and his claws on your hips. You felt your skin separate and then stick together once more with each passionate thrust, each slippery probe into your cunt.

He was whining as he got close.

Out of nowhere he suddenly switched from domineering to pleading, pressing his face against your cheek to nestle your noses and foreheads together while his abdomen flexed.

‘Please, please, please, please, pleassee, pleaseee’ he whined. You felt his cheekbones nearly cutting you as he panted against your lips.

‘Please, please, please’ he continued, his voice getting breathy with each one. You felt him grunt as he squirted a little pre-cum inside you, and his whining got faster. ‘Please, please, PLEASE, please—’

‘Shh, sh- a-ahh- shh, Miggy, you can have it’ you whimpered back.

His claws hands moved up to your waist as he held you still, his eyes now closed as he felt you against him.

‘Mine… Mine, mine, mine’ he whimpered. He pulled back from the kiss just to hiss, torn between his desire and his instinct. His eyes were blazing, his eyes dilated like a cat.

‘Mine… M-Mine, mine- my mate, l-let me mate you, let me- let me breed you, arañita, with my seed, let me breed you, my love.’

You were clawing at his back just to get some sense of stability, your body squirming as you cried. There was a sharp numbness in your hips now, as the weight of his abdomen hit you, but inside you were burning up. Every muscle was tired from tensing, your head was light and dizzy with pleasure, and you could feel the inescapable end approaching.

‘Let me breed me. I-I want you, stuffed with my eggs, swollen with them, c-caring them for me, because you’re mine, you’re MINE, YOU’RE MINE!’

‘I-I’m yours- I’m yours, Mig- ah—’

You could barely get the words out as you drooled everywhere. You felt him pulse deep inside you, that filthy, plush cock trying to impregnate you with all its power. He hissed again, his fangs dripping venom onto your skin.

‘Mine- mine- MINE- M- AHH!’

He shuddered fully as he finally tipped. He felt the undeniable urge to ejaculate, and without thinking he instinctually pulled you into an embrace.

He hugged you up against that tree, pinning you with his full body weight, and he felt you against him as his cock began pulsing that thick seed inside you. He barely moved, just giving the faintest little pulses with his abdomen to get it as deep as he could, because all he wanted was to feel it.

He nestled into your hair and breathed in your scent as he felt every second of his own ejaculation, every little inch of cum being pumped up and then exploding out into your already cramped pussy, and he made sure you felt it too.

This was his claim. His final claim.

When the last of it was spent from his reserves, he continued to hold you close, kissing your forehead and stroking down your waist He was exhausted but overjoyed, while you were barely coherent. All you could feel was that thick, sticky feed dripping down your thigh and bulging your belly up, leaving you utterly stuffed with his genes.

‘I love you’ Mig whispered tenderly, refusing to show how exhausted he was. ‘I love you, arañita. I love you.’

You let out a soft wheeze of a whine as you slowly, shakily, hugged him back.

‘I love you too, Mig’ you wheezed.

You felt him do that little wiggle of joy, but you also felt something warm hit your forehead. When you glanced up, you realized… he was crying.

It was only one or two tears, but they’d fallen from his thick jaw to your head. He gripped you tighter.

‘Mi amor… I swear. No matter what, no matter the cost, I will find a way for us to be together’ he vowed in that moment, still quietly trapped with your bodies intertwined and impaled, and he meant it.

He would finish the solution to overcoming your multiverse differences no matter the cost. You were his light, his joy. He had tasted love and he would not go back again. 

‘I swear it. I swear. You will be mine, no matter what…’

[hislastbimbogff]

I adore you, I swear.

🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃

A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.

cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!

You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,

 “how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money” 

you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer. 

Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((

He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client. 

Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.

You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.  

“Hey, Miguel..”

 you say with a bit of a grin. 

“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right? 

“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.  

he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy. 

“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately. 

“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.

“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?

this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬:

♠︎: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

♦︎: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

♣︎: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

  ↳📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

    ↳📂 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬...

Marrying a scientist superhero has its unique perks <3 these are in chronological order

MOODBOARD!!!

Headcannons ♠︎♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your relationship in a nutshell

For Biology ♠︎♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.

Lunch Break ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You catch Miguel doing something he shouldn’t while dropping off his lunch. Now you both have to face the consequences.

Stimulant ♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It has always been a routine for you to come into Miguel’s lab every once in a while, but this time you feel a strong sense of arousal out of nowhere.

In sickness and in health ♣︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded

Some more Biology ♦︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you gave birth to your first daughter, Miguel spends the night admiring the changes that motherhood has done to your body.

[sassypossumm]

What about Cult Leader!Miguel... 🔞

imagine being his obsession

He's definetly charismatic enough to convince people to follow him to the ends of the earth.

Miguel probably sees thr members as his children of sorts. I don't see there being any creepy brain washed vibes. Its definitely a found family.

And then you came along.

It was so obvious from the way he treated you, that to Miguel you were different.

Its almost as if you were his North Star. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you. He'd lay down his life for any member of the group.

But for you?

For you, he'd tear the moon and stars out of the sky and lay them at your feet. He'd risk everything and anything to keep you safe.

And when he makes love to you, it's a form of worship in his mind. He'd slowly peel off your panties, pressing reverent kisses to your thighs before drinking from the enshrined fountain that is your pussy.

And just as your thighs began shaking and tears streamed down your face from overstimulation, that's when he'd flip you over and enfold you in himself as he drives his cock repeatedly back into the warmth of your cunt.

And he'd go at an agonizingly slow pace. Squeezing his eyes shut and grunting in pleasure as your tightens walls bless his cock. He'd nuzzle your ear and whisper frantic half broken praises in spanish against your ear as he finishes, and paints your fluttering pussy in his highest form of worship.

[redr0sewrites]

ATSV Characters with a Goth S/o

heeeeeyyyyyy guys 😇 *slowly sliding the 100+ REQUESTS in my inbox to the side to make room for a new special interest*

🥀Cw: none, mostly fluff!!!

🥀Pairing(s): Hobie x reader, Miles x reader, Miguel x reader, Spot x reader

Hobie

he would LOVE any type of alternative partner tbh- he just LOOOVESSS that ur goth and will support you 100%

people who go against societies expectations/standards and don't fit in with the norm intrigue him, and your style is probably what piqued his interest in the first place

y'all definitely wear matching fits sorry i don't make the rules- hobie just can't pass up the opportunity to match w you!!! whenever you go to meetings within the spider society he always brings you along, regardless of whether or not you're a spiderperson and hobie loves showing off you and your style

MAJOR "THATS MY PARTNER‼️" VIBES

look me in the eyes and tell me hobia would not absolutely rock some funky eyeliner LIKEEEEE- he def lets you practice on him and will do your makeup for you too!!!

hobie loves thrifting with you, there is no way he isn't a major thrifter and you both definitely DIY a lot of your clothes

HE MAKES YOU GUYS MATCHING PUNK BATTLE VESTS FOR YOUR ANNIVERSARY, AND MAKES SURE THAT IT MATCHES UR AESTHETIC AS WELL!!

hobie absolutely has BLESSED music taste, but while he usually listens to rock, punk, dad rock, or post-punk type of music, i def see him enjoying more gothic/new wave music- especially if u introduce it to him!!!

i see him enjoying bauhaus, sisters or mercy, scary bitches, etc- he'll also give YOU a lot of music recommendations and help to expand ur taste!

hobie would also accompany you to any protests or conventions that you wanted to attend, and would act as your scary dog privileges

YOU TWO DEFINITELY GO TO CONCERTS TOGETHER OMG. I TOTALLY SEE THAT AS A SPONTANEOUS DATE THAT YOU TWO ENJOY A LOT

honestly hobie is a lovely partner to have if you are goth, and he's not only supportive but VERY enthusiastic about your fashion and lifestyle!

Miles

hes such a sweetheart!!! he definitely supports you if you're goth and asks a LOOOT of questions lmao

miles draws you and your fashion a lot, and will def design makeup or eyeliner ideas for you too!!! while ik this is more associated with punk, i also see miles drawing you a few custom patches and stuff like that

your kind of like his muse in a way, and miles just really enjoys sketching you, especially since you have such a unique aesthetic and such cool outfits

HE HAS DEFINITELY GRAFFITIED U SOMEWHERE‼️

he loves watching you get ready and do your makeup. seeing you do perfect eyeliner wings and heavy makeup in general lowkey relaxes him, and he just loves admiring you

im sorry but miles knows absolutely nothing about goth music or culture, ur gonna have to introduce him to a lot of the songs/bands!!!

while i don't think he's huge on the music at first, i think it would grow on him over time. its definitely the type of thing that he loves because YOU love it, and he sees how mu much you enjoy it so he starts listening to it as well so he can talk to you about it

i think his favorite band would be the cure, and his fav songs would either be boys dont cry or the walk (both by the cure- idk why thats so specific but they just kinda fit his vibe yk?)

miles likes holding hands a lot, and he loves when you wear rings or gloves or something along those lines because it just reminds him so much of you! your hands just feel different compared to other peoples and he just loves how unique you are

if you have a lot of piercings, miles would definitely ask about them or buy you specific jewelry for piercings!!!!

overall, very very cute and supportive about your style!!! (he lowkey gives bi wife energy, and iyk what in talking ab then ily mwah)

Miguel

he's pretty indifferent to your style at first, i don't see him as the type to judge much based on appearances. its your personality that really throws him for a loop, and a part of him admires your dedication to making yourself look how you want to look and truly living to be your best self, regardless of what others think

if you think miles knows nothing about being goth then be prepared for miguel bc he knows NOTHINGGGG- no music, no history, no political views, zero, zilch, nada, goose egg

if he cares about you i do see him being intrigued about your style, and once you two are officially dating is when he'll show more interest in your personal fashion sense

he strikes me as the type to like, NEVER listen to music, so he literally only listens to the music you like!!! he does find himself occasionally humming the tune of some strawberry switchblade song or casually listening to a siouxsie and the banshees song while he works, and over time you influence him a LOT with your music taste. he definitely associates any and all goth music with YOU, and that's probably why he starts enjoying it.

he's a "hand on you at all times" type of guy, and while he is rarely touchy with others, miguel is definitely keeping you close. your fashion makes that convenient for him, and he loves pulling you into a kiss by grabbing onto your belt loop or something of the sort

miguel loves how you look with and without makeup on and isn't afraid to tell you that, however, he really likes it if you incorporate his colors or color scheme into your makeup one day. he'll never admit it, but you keep catching him admiring you with the smallest smirk on his face every few seconds

if anyone ever gave u shit for what you wear and how you dress, especially someone in the spider society, you'd practically have to restrain miguel from drop kicking them across nueva york- he doesn't want anyone to be rude to you , and while he knows you can stand up for yourself, he just gets protective at times

Spot

goth? whats that???

he's lowkey such a nerd, and spends too much time being science-y and planning on how to beat spiderman to actually get caught up on fashion

spot doesn't know how he pulled you tbh, but he appreciates you nonetheless!!! he thinks you and your aesthetic are something to be admired, and will unabashedly tell EVERYONE he knows about you

he will shoplift any clothing or jewelry that you want, and he'll even take you to other dimensions where there are better alternative clothes as well

spot doesn't really have a face to do makeup on, but he'll offer to do yours for you! surprisingly enough he's pretty good at it, though he does work pretty slowly

spot loves fiddling with your accessories, whenever he's standing near you he's always reaching out to touch you in some way shape or form. he loves playing with any chains or necklaces you wear, and will help adjust them so that they lay correctly

he helps you get ready in the morning!!!!! if ur the type of goth to wear corsets, he makes lacing them up SO easy and will gladly do it for you

i personally hc that spot HATES seeing himself in mirrors/pictures, it reminds him sm of what he used to look like, but he LOVES taking photos of you and your style!! whenever you are wearing a cute outfit or have funky makeup on, spot adores just taking photos of you

if you ever did a makeup look inspired by him and his spots he would probably CRY :(

URGRHHRHHRRR I LOVE ATSV SMMMMMMM!!!! this post will DEFINITELY have a pt2 w more characters!!!!! i swear tho atsv literally pulled me out of the most horrendous burnout ever i FELT the artblock and writing block lift off of my body as i watched it. IM SO INVESTED I MADE A SPIDERSONA...

[silverisfuzzy]

Make Them Hear Us - NSFW

i wrote this a long time ago and i dont remember if i wrote it well but i dont feel like fixing it so you get what you get,,, anyway

miguel o'hara x reader (+18)

warnings: masturbation, dick riding, still dont know if this counts as voyeurism, biting, miguel uses his talons, belly bulge, mildly desperate reader, miguel whimpers, no use of y/n

MINORS DNI !!!

Miguel has always been so sweet to you, he took such care in making sure you were loved. Of course, this behavior translated to bed just as much and while the sex was amazing, you knew he was holding back on you. You have tried sending a message to get him riled up, making him jealous, or wearing all kinds of lingerie but nothing changed. You were starting to get desperate, which brought you to tonight.

You were reading in bed waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard noises coming from the other side of the wall in the apartment next door. A loud bang rang against the wall followed by loud moaning. You groaned, trying to tune it out but that became impossible when the banging on the wall started to quicken into a rhythm while the moaning and screaming grew louder. Setting down your book, you sighed lifting up Miguel’s shirt that you were wearing, and slipped your hand past your underwear. You slid your fingers through your folds, sighing as your wetness grew. You pressed your fingers against your clit, rubbing in circles as you laid your head back. Listening to your neighbors moaning, you dipped your fingers into your heat, thinking about Miguel fucking you as hard as your neighbors were. Focusing solely on your pleasure, writhing and moaning under your own touch imagining that it was Miguel, you failed to hear the keys unlocking the apartment door. It was not until heavy footsteps entered the room that you opened your unknowingly closed eyes, that you nearly jumped out of your skin. 

You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear, sitting up on the edge of the bed tugging the oversized shirt over your lap, “Miguel! I didn’t hear you come in, I’m sorry… Uhm, h-how was your day?”

The silence was almost deafening if your neighbors weren’t still screaming on the other side of the wall. He walked over, caging you between his arms on the bed, and whispered in your ear, “Why did you stop?” Your breath shook as you stayed silent, “You’re listening to them, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your face as you kissed him back holding on to his forearms, licking your way into his mouth. Miguel sighed against your lips as the kiss grew messy, he moved his hands back to the bed nudging you to lay down. Pressing his body to yours feeling him hard against your thigh as he crawled over you. Your hips shot up aching for friction, his hand moved to your hip to hold you down, and you whined against his lips. Miguel pulled away, trailing kisses from your jaw to the crook of your neck, feeling his breath and fangs brush your skin. You had dreams about him sinking those sharp teeth into you.

Your hands traveled down to the back of his shirt pushing it up and softly dragging your nails across his skin. He groaned and sat up to pull his shirt over his head, you stared per usual, it was impossible not to. His broad shoulders were just begging to have your nails digging into them as you rode him. You were pulled out of your trance as a bang was heard across the wall and the moaning somehow became louder.

You caught Miguel’s gaze as a smirk spread across your face, “You want to try being louder?” He laughed and leaned in close to you again.

“Let’s give them what we got,” he purred, sliding his hand between your legs, brushing over the fabric of your underwear slick from your arousal. “ Para quien es esto? ” he hums, pushing aside the fabric and slipping a finger into your heat.

Your mouth hung open, his finger stretching you farther than your own. Miguel slowly pumped into you and you felt like you would lose your mind when he slipped a second past your lips. You moaned loudly when he picked up the pace and pressed his thumb to your clit, circling in rhythm with his fingers.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed, head thrown back and hands gripping the blankets, your chest swelled as a knot began to tighten deep in your core. Miguel sensed this, curling his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep within you to draw out your orgasm. Your hand flew to his hair, “Fuck, Miguel, I’m close,” panting as the sound of your slick began to become more apparent. Miguel watched your face intently, shortening his movements deep inside you keeping the pressure on his fingertips. “ Muérdame ,” you begged, tugging his hair.

“What?” his hand slowed and you whimpered from the lost sensation as your orgasm wavered.

“Bite me, Miguel, fuck please please please,” pleading as you pulled his face towards your neck. You felt his heavy breath before he closed the distance from your skin, his hand’s pace quickened once again as he sunk his teeth into you. The combination of his fingers and the piercing sensation was enough for the knot in your core to finally snap. You leaned your head against Miguel’s, moaning loudly into his ear as you rutted against his hand. You groaned as he removed his teeth from you, kissing and licking over the wound, you released your grip on the blanket to hold his face close. His pupils were blown, “Fuck, thank you, Miguel,” you smiled, pushing the hair from his forehead, “I wanted you to do that for so long.” Miguel surged forward to capture your lips, you moaned into his mouth as he removed his fingers from between your legs. He sat up sucking your slick from his fingers, you sat in disbelief at the sight, before he reached for his pants and pushed them off. In the midst, you take off your underwear and are about to remove your shirt when Miguel stops you.

“ Déjalo , I love seeing you in my clothes,” he hums, running his hand up between your breasts before settling back down on your waist as he leans forward to gently suck and bite the skin on your neck without his fangs. He positions himself at your entrance, the neighbors are still moaning and banging against the wall as Miguel looks you in the eye, “Are you ready?” he asks and you nod before he slowly pushes into you. You’ve had sex plenty of times since you’ve gotten together and you are never used to how ungodly he stretched you out. Your mouth hangs open, broken moans spilling from your throat. Miguel’s breath hitches as he glides in easily, not making a sound until he is flush with you. Moaning against your neck as he is fully seated but still patiently waiting for you to adjust to his girth. As much as you loved how careful he was with you, you desperately needed him to use your body however he pleased.

“God, Miguel, I need you to move! Fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, you don’t need to be gentle with me,” you moaned.

“Are you sure?” He groaned, breathing heavily. 

“Yes, Miguel! Fuck, I need you so bad. Fuck me, Miguel, fuck m-” Miguel quickly sat up, gripping your waist, pulling back, and slamming into you. You yelp from the sudden movement, the both of you are moaning as Miguel sets a quick pace, thrusting deep into you. He groaned as he watched where you connected, the sound of skin slapping gaining volume.

Miguel held your waist tightly, enough to leave bruises later, and pinned you down to the bed as your hands scrambled to tangle themselves into the bedsheets. The force from his thrusts rocked the headboard sharply against the wall, a battle raging with the couple next door. Miguel released his grip, leaning over you to capture your hands in his, entangling your fingers and trapping them next to your head. You dug your heels into the small of his back to keep yourself grounded as Miguel shifted his hips to hit your spot directly. You could have sworn that you saw God for a moment. 

“Take me how you want, papi ,” you beg, so fucked out and desperate that you do not even realize that your bodies have now been flipped over leaving you straddling Miguel’s hips. Taking advantage of the position, you pin his hands against the sheets as you lift your hips, feeling the thick veins slide along your walls. Miguel stared up at you, his jaw slack, and tightened his grip on your hands as you dropped yourself back onto his cock. The motion was quick to punch a strung-out moan from both of your mouths. You sat up and leaned back, releasing your hold on his hands, and placed them against Miguel’s thighs behind you, lifting your hips and dropping them once again. This time hitting your spot sharply, you practically screamed as your head fell back and your legs trembled. He groaned as his hands flew to your thighs, guiding your hips onto his cock. You felt his talons stick out slightly poking into your skin, drawing a bit of blood but not deep enough to shred your legs. They kept you tied to his grasp, unable to escape the harsh rhythm that he set forth. You felt him deep, not realizing how far until one of Miguel’s hands glided over the lower part of your stomach. It took all of your strength to lift your head and stare down at where his hand pressed, your heart pangs heavily in your chest as you notice the skin bulge out in rhythm with Miguel’s hips.

“Oh fuck, Miguel, you’re so deep,” you gasp, dropping your hips harder, the squelching, slapping of skin, and loud moaning filling your apartment. There is a faint knock against the wall behind Miguel’s head and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you realize that the neighbors have been quiet for a while. The thought left your mind as quickly as it entered when Miguel pulled you to his chest, pinning your hands behind your back, planting his feet, and fucked up into you at a blinding pace. Your voice was beginning to crack and break, small gasping sounds were the only thing making it out of your tightened throat. At this angle, Miguel was slamming into your spot head-on, your fingernails dug into your palm and you mouthed at the crook of his neck as your orgasm neared. After a couple more harsh thrusts, the heat in your core erupted sending you to let out a final yell against Miguel’s skin. Your walls clenched involuntarily around his cock as he continued to pound into you.

“Shit. Fuck.” Miguel groaned, pressing his head back against the mattress, “You feel so good.” His voice eventually dissolves into short breathy whimpers as his hips begin to stutter, releasing his hold on your hands to grip your hips. You bring your hands up to hold Miguel’s face between your palms, planting your lips on his, moaning into each other.

You pull away from him, speaking against his lips, “Cum for me, Miguel.” The words are barely out of your mouth when you feel a warmth spill into you and Miguel is moaning across your face. He thrusts slowly through his orgasm as you both try to catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the overstimulation while you are lifting yourself off of Miguel to collapse on the bed next to him. You shutter slightly feeling the cum drip out of you, you hum as you reach your hand between your legs to coat your finger in the substance. You turn your head to look at Miguel, bringing your hand up to your mouth and wrapping your lips around your cum coated finger. It was hard to decipher his emotion after an orgasm but the slight widening and dilating of his eyes said enough to warm your chest. You chuckle softly and speak with a raspy voice, your throat officially giving up for the time being, “So do you think we won?”

[lazyjellyfish300]

Miguel O'Hara x gn!Reader

A/N: based on a lyric from the Taylor Swift song The Tortured Poet's Department. 🖤

TW: jealous Miguel, that's it and fluff.

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Miguel's definitely the type of man to move any rings you're wearing to your ring finger if you're not already wearing one. 🫶🏽

At an Alchemax dinner with the Osborns, Harry's been letting his eyes linger on you for a little too long. Miguel turns red, sliding his palm over the top of your left hand and bringing it under the table.

"Sweetheart?" You giggle.

"Shh..." Miguel leans over you, gently wiggling that ring you've got on your left middle finger and placing it on your ring finger.

"Wha-what was that for?" You ask him with a soft smile as he sits back in his chair with pride, letting his arm rest behind you, your heart exploding.

"Just making sure someone whose name rhymes with Barry, understands that you're with me."

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@hislastbimbogff 🫶🏽🖤