#reader scared of Miguel

[cupcakeinat0r]

Me after finally getting Miguel in bed n seein the monster he be packin in that hologram suit

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about Miguel and the kinks he likes to indulge in | 18+, MINORS DNI

Content tags: primal play [chase but make it foreplay]

“I’m coming to get you”

It’s those five words that have Miguel swiftly climbing up the building, claws sinking into the metal and bending it to his will as he attempts to escape whoever’s chasing him.

Sweat trickles down his spine, goosebump rises across his skin and he feels his stomach churn as he attempts to escape whoever is chasing him.

However it’s not fear that has his body reacting in this way, no it’s lust.

There’s a pressure on his chest that he isn’t willing to address. There’s a certain lightness he feels in his head that dulls his sharp senses in the possible way. And his cock is hard and weeping, straining against the suit he’s wearing.

Suddenly a hand grabs onto his ankle. His eyes widen in surprise, heart dropping to his stomach as adrenaline kicks in and he quickly pulls his foot away from the unknown person’s grasp.

He hears the fabric of his suit rip, feels the cold wind caress his bare skin, and feels the stinging from where the nails grazed him.

Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy is what he thinks as he pushes his tongue against his cheek.

Despite the grunt he lets out, and the pain he feels from the sting, he can’t help but enjoy the feeling.

Sick, sick, sick is the word that rings through his ears, as he forces himself to keep climbing the building.

He dares look back for just a second, only to see no one behind him. It’s a thrill as much as it’s a relief because Miguel isn’t foolish.

He has played this game enough times to know that someone is lurking in the shadows, and the slight movement he picks up from the corner of his eye confirms his suspicions.

Quick, quick, be quick is all he thinks as his pulse roars in his ears, adrenaline shooting through his body as his reflexes force him to start moving again.

He’s going at an inhumane speed, wind pelting against his skin, metal screeching as it tries to accommodate to his weight and his punishing grip. Despite the speed he’s going at, he hears the unknown person catching up. The sound of soles and palms hitting walls grows closer and for a second Miguel feels himself lose momentum, too consumed with the thought of what would happen if the person were to actually catch him.

He almost has the mind to stop running, to let the person catch him and do whatever they want with him. His dick twitches at the thought of it, and he feels himself slow down.

Too easy, too easy, it would be too easy is what he hears in his ears and that’s enough to snap him back into reality. Although his lungs are burning and his body’s aching , he forces himself to keep climbing up the building.

He makes the swift decision to kick down the window in front of him and jumps through it.

Shards of glass brush against his skin, ripping more of the suit he's wearing and he grunts and groans as he rolls onto the floor.

He doesn’t have any time to recover before he feels his hands get pinned to the sides of his head and someone straddling his waist.

The person’s got a bruising grip on his wrists, knees digging punishingly into the sides of his ribs.

Adrenaline’s pumping through his veins, pulse roaring in his ears and body twitching in place as every instinct in him is telling him to flee, flee, flee.

His eyes desperately search the predator’s face, trying to make out any sorts of familiar features on their face but it’s far too dark to see anything.

He really should do something to escape, he knows it. If this had been anyone else, he’d surely be as good as dead.

However this is not just anyone looking to have his head on a plate. This is you and this is just a game the two of you like to play and you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, at least not unless he asked you to do it. The thought in itself increases the lightness in his head, the pressure on his chest has him gasping for breath and he feels his cock twitch and weep inside of his suit.

You pant in his ear, hot breath washing over his skin as you adjust yourself so your knee is directly resting on his dick.

As you move your knee, the fabric drags agonizingly slow along his shaft, tugging and taunting at sensitive skin that leaves Miguel hissing and whimpering. And just for a second since you started this chase he allows himself to give into the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Ready to give up yet O’Hara?”

His eyes fly open at those words, and within seconds he’s flipping the two of you over with him now on top “not yet” he says with a taunting smile on his face before he completely escapes your grasp and runs away.

“Fuck!” You shout behind him, one hand reaching out to grab him, but he’s far too quick and you only manage to cause another rip in the suit he’s wearing.

He makes a run for the stairs, his laugh echoing with each step that he takes. It’s not amusement that has him laughing like this. It’s the thrill of the chase. It’s the little glances he throws behind him as he makes a sharp turn around the ledge. It’s the tingling feeling in the pit of his stomach when he hears another pair of feet getting closer to him. It’s the fact that his cock is weeping and twitching, begging for any sort of relief and he has no time to do anything about it unless he wants you to catch him.

Finally he gets to the door that leads to the rooftop, grabs ahold of the handle and shoves it open.

Just as he does so, he’s quickly attacked and overpowered. Within seconds he’s stripped off of his weapons, hands tied behind his back and forced to kneel on the floor.

“Got you, little arachnid “

One of the most powerful spider people has been rendered helpless and forced into such a vulnerable position. He knows he should feel embarrassed, but he doesn't. Matter of fact he loves it and the dark spot where his cock presses against his suit proves it, along with the way he pathetically ruts his hips in the air.

When his eyes land on you he sees that your suit’s ripped in multiple places and that you’ve garnered some scratches and bruises. It’s clear that he’s managed to do some damage in this chase. When his eyes wander over to his reflection in the glass surrounding the rooftop he sees that he is in no better state. His lip is busted open and bleeding, small bruises are forming on his cheeks, scratches littering his skin and suit almost peeling from his body.

It’s then when he finally realizes just how exhausted is. You’ve been going at this for hours, (the downsides of having superpowers) without getting any sort of relief.

If his hands weren’t tied behind his back, he’d probably have them on his cock right now. But that’s most likely why you’d tied him up. You know just the way to rile him up.

Despite how much he loves when you tease him, he still needs some sort of relief. You’ve been going at it for hours and he’s almost on the verge of bursting at the seams.

He squeezes his thighs together, saliva dripping from his chin and on the verge of pleading for you to do something. However before he can say or do anything, you grab onto his head, strands of brown and gray wrapping around your fingers as you yank him closer by his hair.

Whatever he was about to say is gone with the wind as he looks at you with his mouth agape and panting, eyelids hanging low and desire swirling in his iris.

You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, before you shove his face straight onto your crotch.

“This is what you wanted, right little arachnid?”

He doesn’t say anything as he eagerly mouths at the fabric and you yank at his hair in warning.

“Answer me,”

“Yes, yes, yes” he cries out in desperation, a mix of saliva and blood smearing across your suit as he nuzzles further into your crotch.

You smile as you hear his response before you use your free hand to rip away whatever left of the fabric that’s covering your lower half.

“Keep those fangs in check, yeah?” is all you say before you shove his head between your legs.

[kenchosaikuo]

This is my first ever one-shot, fanfic, sort of post so bear with me if it is really bad.

The idea for this is how I think the Across the Spider-verse characters would react to you kissing them with lipstick on. Be warned it will probably be horrifically ooc or maybe it won’t, never tried writing from another characters perspective before. Tried to be gn!Reader but might lean a little more to the feminine side. It’s also not in any particular order.

Miles Morales

This boy would be a mix of nervous and flustered at the same time. Bonus points if you grab his face while you kiss him, he would short circuit in a second. He’d bounce back after a minute but still be pretty flustered, would definitely stumble over his words while trying to act like he’s ok. Would try to hide how red his face is by covering them with his hands, if you pull them away from him. Oh boy. Prepare for the rebooting process. May or may not take longer than 5 minutes. Would probably wash the mark off, y’know because of his parents and all.

“I- Uh- um. T- thank you f-for um.. that. Um. It felt n-nice” “You good baby?” “Y-yea I’m good.” “You stuttering a lot. You sure you’re good babe?” “Yea. Just need a few minutes to reboot”

Gwen Stacy

Would have a more controlled reaction. She would be flustered but wouldn’t show it as much as Miles would. She’d probably get a little red on the ears and on the cheeks but other than that she’d be ok. She might stumble over her words a bit and look away as to hide some embarrassment. Would definitely tell Hobie about what happened and talk about how life is going. Bonus points if you use her own lip stick. Would probably wash the mark off so her dad doesn’t know.

“Dang you got rizz like that” “If it’s making you smile like that, then I guess I do” “Wait is that my lipstick though” “Sure is” “Rizz 9000”

Peter B. Parker

(This is before MJ and Mayday)

I feel like he’d get slightly flustered by it but not so much so to where he would stumble over words. Almost like Gwen. He would pull you in and give you kisses in return too. Whether it be on the forehead, the lips, or anywhere else expect a kiss in return. Would probably tell you to do it again. After a few minutes of sitting on the couch and exchanging little pecks I imagine it would turn into a little movie night with just sitting there and exchanging kiss while the movie plays. Might get distracted when the movie gets good though. Would probably forget about the mark and just leave it there.

“Wait hold on I’m lost. Is she dating him or is she dating the other guy” “Wait what, I thought she was with him and she cheated on him with other guy. Dang it P now I’m confused” “Oh well this movie was confusing anyway. Now where were we?”

Miguel O’Hara

Would enjoy it. Hands down. Would let you do it. Depending on where you kissed him he would have different reactions. So like on the forehead or cheek, the more sweet areas I feel like he’d kiss you back in the same place. If you did it on the lips, depending on the time and place, it could potentially turn into a little make out session. Now, should you do it on the neck you better prepare yourself for when he’s done working. He’d also probably do it back to you as well. I mean he would get his fangs out and bite you, should you wish. He’ll mark you just like you marked him. Depending if the relationship is known or unknown to others depends if he’ll keep the mark there. If the relationship known he’ll keep the mark there until he showers (if even takes a break from his work). If the relationship is unknown he’ll try to keep it there as long as possible but if he’s gotta go that lipstick stain is coming off.

“Hermosa, what did you just do?” “Nothinggg?” “Sure. Come here Hermosa” “Yes?” “*Bites down on readers neck* Now we are even” “How is that anywhere near even”

The Spot

Would probably get real giddy and happy about it. Cause you know like after he got turned into the spot he’d get turned down by a lot of people cause they mean so it would make him happy to know he’s still loved and not considered a monster in one persons eyes. Anyways, he’d be really happy and would make sure to keep the mark on there just in case he runs into the Spider-Man’s so he can show that he’s loved by someone. Would probably look at Miles and flaunt it. Would make sure the mark stays there. If it rubs off he’ll tell you to kiss him with lip stick on again.

“Guess what Miles, I pulled a girl before you ever could, HA, take that. I’ve got more rizz than you and I ain’t even human no more”.

Jessica Drew

(Before the baby and getting married)

Would get a bit embarrassed about it. I feel like she would like it though. Bonus points if you use her lip stick. She’d probably do the same thing though. Just at a different time to catch you off guard and see you get all flustered and embarrassed. She also seems like the type to not just give one kiss but multiple. Kind of like Peter in a sense. If she were to do it back she would do it multiple times in multiple different areas. Would probably keep the mark there for as long as she could.

“My turn!!” “Wait what Jess hold on” “Mwah and mwah” “I was supposed to be the one to catch you off guard” “Haha, nope”

Pavitr Prabhakar

Would be almost as flustered as Miles but be able to handle said flusteredness better. He’d blush and maybe stutter slightly but he’d be able to cope. Would probably also grab a drink of chai so to calm himself down. He would also definitely get romantic when you do kiss him. He’d probably kiss you back too. Definitely get expect everyone to know. Gwen, Miles, Hobie, Peter, Jess, Miguel even. Everyone is gonna know. Would probably keep the mark there for most of the day too.

“Pav did you really need a cup of Chai to calm down” “N-No, I just like the taste of it” “Sure, but you got it just at this moment in time, can’t be a coincidence hmm??” “Anyways so how’ve you beennnn”

Hobie Brown

He’d probably do it right back. He’d take the lip stick and kiss you all the same way you did him. Alongside Pav and Spot he’d flaunt it everywhere he goes. He would not get flustered either, he’d be surprised but not flustered. I’ve the feeling he’d tell you to do it again and again until his face is peppered in lip stick marks. Would definitely leave the lip stick marks there. May or may not avoid taking a shower just so they stay on longer.

Oi!! Whatcha doing there” “Just giving you a little kiss” “Well you’re doing it in the wrong spot mate. It’s supposed to be on the lips not on the cheek” “Or I could not do it at all??” “Alright point taken, go on”

The End :D

It you enjoyed reading that let me know. OH and give me suggestions too and any critiques you might have. Anything that’s helpful to my writing is gladly appreciated.:D

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Put it back on (Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader) one shot

A/N: okay, before i get started to do want to say this is my first time writing fanfic since I was in middle school, so I am a bit rusty, please be nice to me 😭. This is based off a ca.i bot, the bot was made by tuxebo if you were interested, and I may or maybe not have put in a bojack horseman reference in here. Sorry not sorry.

Pre-established relationship (both you and Miguel are like late 30s, started dating in high school but are married in the context of this fic), swearing, angsty (?), mentions of alcohol, marital/ relationship issues.

Word count:872

Masterlist

—

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

The harsh tone and the sudden question quickly pulled you from your thoughts. You jumped slightly, before placing your coffee cup down on the kitchen island that you were leaning on. He had placed the ring on the kitchen island in front of you, it making a small clinking sound as it settles on the counter.

Honestly, you’re not sure why you’re not wearing it. Usually, you put it on as soon as you get out of the shower, but today, it didn’t feel right to put it on, almost.

“I’m… I’m not- I don’t know…” you stutter under your husband’s cold gaze as he stands parallel to you, across the kitchen island. His shoulders tense and his face had a scowl, his eyes having a hint of red in them.

Moments like these, you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Miguel let out a quick dry laugh, putting his body away from me slightly as he took a step back. “You don’t know?” He repeated in disbelief, “How do you not know? What are you trying to tell me?”

You stayed silent as your gaze drops down to the tiled floor of our shared kitchen, instead of your coffee mug.

“Oh, so now I get the silent treatment? Great.” His voice is cold as ice when he speaks up after a beat, his hands thrown up in the air before landing at his sides with a pat from his callus covering hands hitting his jeans. “What happened to us? What changed? What did I do to make you so miserable? Do you want to leave me or something?”

Your heart rate started to quicken at the suggestion, and your hands tightened around your mug, as if it would slip out of your hands or disappear, even though it sat firmly on the countertop. “No! No of course not!” You shook my head as you finally brought your eyes to meet his, your body pulling you up so you were fully standing straight.

“Then what? What is it?” He asked, “Do you not love me anymore?” That question made your heartache. of course, you still loved him, you always will, he was your first everything.

“Amor…” you trailed off, your hand came up and rubbed your face, taking a shaky breath, your eyes closing. “How do I put this into words…” you mumbled to yourself as your eyebrows scrunched together in thought as you look back down. For a moment, everything was silent, and you hated it. Usually, when you two argue, it was always big and dramatic. You should know it happens at least once a week now, it’s become a sick part of your routine together. You had become so used to the loud dramatics, the tears, the shouting. The pacing from one room to another while one ignores the other, while the other attempts to get the former’s attention back. But this time was different, it was calmer than usual, no yelling, no screaming, sure he was still talking in an annoyed tone but it wasn’t the way he usually does during a fight. It was almost like the calm before the storm, but you two have gotten so used to the storm, that the calm was worst somehow. The silence felt like it could suffocate you at any moment.

You let out a sigh as you feel Miguel’s gaze harden even more on you, you didn’t need to look up to know, it felt like a hole was being burned right in the back of your head, afraid that the next words you say might be the wrong ones, making it feel like he’ll end up leaving you like on the wrong end of a red laser dot.

“Remember… remember when we were in college? And we were at some, random-ass frat party? And you were drunk and smiled at me, and I said, ‘What?’ And you said, ‘I just like being in a room with you, you make rooms good.’” You say as you cross your arms to hug yourself. He just stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“And… Miguel, I have loved you for 25 years… and I have never loved anyone better. That kind of love, you only get it when you’re young and stupid. I’m not gonna get it again….”

A beat passes, two, then three before he speaks. “…so what? You’re saying you aren’t wearing your ring because we aren’t going out and partying every weekend?” You couldn’t help but let a dry chuckle escape your lips are you shake your head, “no, no- that’s not- I’m not saying it’s because of that. I just miss those moments, the sweet little moments we had like that. We’re it felt like nothing matter except you and me, like the whole world had stop around us. I feel like we don’t have those anymore.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, he knows you’re right. Both of you had been too busy with your own separate lives, it felt like your marriage had turn into a roommate situation. Something both of you said you’d never allow to happen.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes, Miguel?”

“Just… put your ring on.”

[lovedbybella]

infatuation (pt. 2)

miguel o’hara x female!reader

warnings: profanity and a whole lot of nsfw content

summary: being miguel’s assistant, you always thought the two of you had a good thing going. and everything was great… until it wasn’t.

word count: 3.1k

authors note: apologies for how long this took, it’s been super busy. i also wasn’t sure what direction i wanted the story to go 😭 enjoy <3

part one here

NSFW MDNI

Following Miguel’s visit, your planned movie night with Peter quickly turned into a rant session. You explained the entire situation to him, all your frustrations and feelings spilling out. He was on your side, of course, and demanded that you get both the justice and explanations that you deserved.

The following morning, despite your racing thoughts, you knew you had to speak with him. The challenge, however, was that Miguel appeared to be actively avoiding you.

Your first attempt at speaking to him was unexpected. You showed up to his office early in the morning using your employee card to enter, but surprisingly, Lyla had restricted your access, claiming Miguel wasn’t there. An obvious lie, Miguel lived and would probably die in that office.

Your second attempt was even worse, you had seen him walking towards his office. You left whatever you were doing abruptly, following after him to finally talk, but he noticed you, and locked you out, making Lyla explain some bullshit excuse about why you couldn’t enter.

You had had enough though, and went back in the evening. You simply overrode the system using Miguel’s access codes he had given to you years ago when you were first hired. He obviously hadn’t bothered to change it, especially because part of him hoped you would come back.

You enter the office abruptly, catching both Miguel and Lyla by surprise. Lyla excuses herself as you ignore his questions about how you got in. You make your way up to his platform, feeling a plethora of emotions, anger & confusion included.

“Are you insane?” you start, walking directly up to him. You cross your arms, clear anger on your face.

He stays silent, waiting for you to continue. He knows how badly he’s fucked up, and how much he’s going to have to work to earn your forgiveness, but right now, he’s just glad you tolerate him enough to come to his office and yell at him.

“You think you can show up to my apartment, spew some stories, mess with my head, and just expect all to be forgiven?” You ask both angry and confused.

His eyes scan you, before he turns, giving you his full attention, “Of course not” he replies.

“Explain yourself then,” You say firmly.

“You were right. About everything, you were right, we did have a really good thing, and I fucked it up”

“That you did.”

“Your birthday. I don’t even know where to begin, of course I didn’t forget. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, because that’s all I am, I’m sorry”

You stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

“You are wonderful, you’re a wonderful assistant and an even better person. I know I don’t show it but you make this place a lot better, and I’m sorry that I’ve been treating you horribly these past few months. I let my fear of letting people get the best of me, and you didn’t deserve that at all.” He states, his voice more sincere and apologetic than you’ve ever heard before.

You nod, not one of forgiveness, but understanding. Of course, you were still upset and probably would be for a while, but the countless apologies were beginning to work.

“You do realize that I’m not going to forgive you just based on that, right?” You ask.

“Of course I do,” he says quickly, “I’ll make it up to you, in so many ways, I promise”

You nod again, before making your way over to a seat next to him. His eyes watch you as you sigh quietly, a little afraid to bring the rest of what he said up.

“Miguel” you begin, his features distort, showing the surprise from the use of his name. He sits on his desk, face turned towards you, quiet and waiting.

“Did you... mean what you said yesterday?” you continue, “With the dress… and the whole I can’t get you out of my mind thing?” you ask tentatively. “You weren’t just saying that to get me to come back right?” There's a hint of insecurity in your voice. You were sure you could probably recite the entirety of what he admitted yesterday, considering the words had been ringing nonstop in your mind for the last day. The minute you realized the affection you held for your boss crossed the realm of professionalism, you were so quick to suppress your feelings, certain there was no chance he could ever feel that way about you. To hear the exact opposite of that was a shocker, nonetheless, and you’d yet to wrap your mind around it completely.

“I meant every word,” Miguel says looking directly at you, eyes and words more serious than you can even describe.

The confirmation shakes you a bit. You immediately look away from him, too flustered to maintain eye contact. Your mind races through all the possible ways you can tell him you feel the same way before you decide that actions speak louder than words. You finally look back at him, standing up, Miguel watching your every action. You make your way in front of his sitting figure, the two of you finally eye to eye. You’re hesitant, the air in the room heavy as the two of you converse without speaking. Miguel seems to read your mind, and he interlaces your fingers with his. The action gives you the confidence you need, and you finally lean in, interlocking your lips with his.

He reciprocates almost immediately, his loose hand coming up and burying itself in your hair. There was an undeniable tenderness in the way Miguel’s lips moved, another apology, a silent one. The presence of both a softness that spoke of regret and an intensity that demonstrated just how wide the depth of his affection for you was. You pull away, your breath uneven and the kiss almost too overwhelming for you. You don’t step away, the two of you still impossibly close. Miguel makes no move to kiss you again, but he can’t deny the fact that the simple action has his head spinning. He wasn’t kidding when he told you how desperate he was for you, you truly never leave his mind.

You decide right then and there that you’d have time to continue to be mad at him later. Right now, all you wanted was his touch, everywhere. You’d been longing for it for months, and to have him at your expense was not an opportunity you were willing to waste.

“You’re going to make it up to me?” You ask softly, your eyes diverting from his to the rest of his body.

“Absolutely” he responds, his eyes boring into you with an intensity you’ll never get used to. You’re first to make a move, your touch deliberate, seeking out the warmth of his body and the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath your palm.

“I want a raise” you start. You had shown up to his office in your regular clothing. A tank top to be exact, you casually let one of the straps slip off your shoulder, a subtle gesture conveying a silent invitation for more.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel, who watches silently before making himself look back at you. Every movement from you, no matter how small, sends a surge of longing through him. His obsession for you borders on madness, every gesture simply a tormenting reminder of his insatiable desire. He doesn’t hesitate before he replies.

“Done.”

“And I want you to move my desk back to where it was before” you continue, slipping off the other strap.

Miguel can do nothing but nod, completely mesmerized by your movements. His voice was dampened by his pure desire for you. You take advantage of his dazed state, mind muddy at your understanding of just how much he wants you. You kiss him again, this time far more intensely. He deepens it, his teeth grazing your lips causing you to quietly groan. His hands grab you, pulling you closer to him by the waist. He takes the opportunity to flip you over, laying you down, your back flat against his desk, peering up at him through your lust-filled eyes.

In a split second, he’s at you again. Placing soft but eager kisses down your neck, he captures your lips again, unable to get enough of you. This is all he’s dreamed of, all you’ve dreamed of. It’s almost impossible to believe it’s finally happening. This was the last scenario possible when he thought of what would happen when the two of you finally had a real conversation, so to say he was pleasantly surprised when you began initiating was an understatement. He knew this would do nothing toward getting him off the hook, but he wanted to show you just how sorry he was, and he was grateful, very grateful.

“Fuck” you hiss as his kisses get lower and lower. Your top is completely off now, Miguel’s hand practically ripping your bra off next. The cold air nips at your skin, but you’re far too turned on to care. Miguel’s hands move lower, spreading your legs apart at the knee. You’re dripping, both in anticipation and for him. His hands toy with the band of your shorts before he looks up, a silent plea for permission.

“Let me show you how sorry I am” he begs, voice husky and laced with desire. You can only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He wastes no time, gesturing for you to lift your hips before he easily pulls down your shorts, underwear coming off with them. You’re completely bare against his desk. Your boss’s desk. The realization is bizarre enough on its own. The sight of Miguel on his knees, for you has you going insane. He looks heavenly, eyes lustful and hair rattled, it was a a picture you wanted engraved in your brain forever.

His hands grip your thighs tightly and he wastes no time as he licks a stripe up your slit. To him, the taste of you is absolutely divine, his red eyes glaring as he loses himself in you. Your sounds quickly fill the room, thighs clenching around his head as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“And lastly,” you start, voice breathy as you continue your demands from before, “From now on, you’re bringing me coffee every day.” Miguel chuckles lowly, head still in between your thighs. The vibration of the action sends tingles up your spine, only pushing you closer to the edge. His nose brushes against your clit as he continues to eat at you mercilessly, giving you that much-needed friction.

He continues, sloppy wet noises filling the room. You grab onto his hair tightly, causing him to groan. You’re too lost in yourself to notice, legs closing in firmly around his head as you attempt to handle what he’s giving you. He takes his hands, roughly splitting your legs apart once again. He lifts his head, eyes glossy and face wet with your slick he looks at you, it takes everything in you to stay silent at the image in front of you.

“Stop closing your legs preciosa, ‘m not done” he mumbles before diving back in. You moan, both at the sight and his voice. You’re not sure how much more you can take before you completely unfold. He nips at your clit, puffy and wet. His thick tongue is ruthless at your holes, and you honestly don’t think you’ve ever felt better than you do at this moment. You’re in a whole other world, the only thoughts you can even comprehend are how amazing you feel and how grateful you are for the man whose experienced tongue is responsible for it all.

“Miguel” you start, unable to pause long enough to get your words out, “I’m so close” you call out, your words hardly comprehensible in between the whimpers that spill out of you. He doesn’t indicate that he heard you, only picking up his pace, tongue lapping at you at a rate you didn’t even think was possible. With one final swirl, you’re unraveling around him, eyes closing in pure bliss. Quiet moans spill out of you as you start to come down from your high.

Miguel peels away from you, eyes watchful of your heaving chest and the hair stuck to your forehead with the glistening sweat that’s formed. The sight makes his cock twitch, and in a mere second, he decides he’s not done with you. He gives you no time to recover before he’s sliding one of his fingers inside of you. The motion catches you off guard, everything a thousand times more intense considering how sensitive you still are. Your previous orgasm does nothing to prepare you for just how thick his fingers are. You don’t even want to think about what it’d be like to have all of him inside you. His pace is unforgiving, sliding in and out of you like there’s no tomorrow. His eyes are latched onto you, watching and listening to every twitch, movement, and sound your body makes.

His other hand comes up, rubbing your clit. You’re slightly overstimulated, but the initial discomfort washes away as waves of pleasure begin to overtake your body again. Miguel can’t help but groan at the sight of you, he truly was willing to do whatever it took to get you to trust him again.

“So fucking perfect” he groans his praises, his pace still relentless. You whimper quietly in response, your mind a puddle of nothing as his fingers fuck you dumb. Almost embarrassingly so, it’s not long before you're approaching your end again, the nature of the situation a little too much for you to handle. Miguel places a soft kiss on your inner thigh. The action is so intimate, and you can’t take it. Before you know it, you’re coming undone once again, your pussy clenching around his fingers tightly.

“Fuck..fuck” you cry out quietly, body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Miguel pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. He leaves momentarily, and you take the opportunity to try and sit up, shakily of course. He’s back with a towel in an instant, cleaning you up as you wince slightly at the action, still way too sore to be touched.

There’s a tension in the room, not an uncomfortable one, but one where you’ve both realized your relationship has crossed a line you’ll never get back.

“That’s hell of a way to make it up to me” you joke, trying to get rid of the silence that has fallen over the room. Miguel gives you a small smile, handing you your clothes back so you can start to get dressed.

“I hope you know that wasn’t my apology to you, I have a long way to go,” he says seriously, eyes boring into you.

You nod, pulling your shirt over your head in understanding. “I know” you reply quietly.

Miguel comes to stand in front of you. He looks down at you once again, hand coming up to caress your face lovingly.

“I really am sorry, I don’t even know where to begin, I’ll be apologizing for the rest of my life if I have to” you hear the genuine sincerity and apologeticness in his voice. It brings you a sort of relief, to know the Miguel you knew before all of this was still there.

“And I’m completely in love with you if you couldn’t already tell,” he says humorously, bringing a little more light to the conversation. You laugh softly before bringing your hand up to the one he has on your face, interlacing your fingers.

“I love you too if you couldn’t already tell,” you say honestly, a hint of teasing in your voice. Miguel laughs again, eyes yearning for you as he comes to understand just how lucky he truly is. He had a long way to go, but he was willing to do whatever it took if it resulted in your happiness and forgiveness.

-

The following day, you woke up with your heart feeling a little lighter. Peter had suggested the two of you get breakfast, insisting he meet you at your door so the two of you could walk together. The action was a little out of the ordinary if you were being honest, but you didn’t think too much of it.

Your head is down as you walk into the meal space, getting distracted by a noise your multidimensional watch keeps making. When you finally look up, you’re met with the faces of the entirety of the Spider Society. A huge “Happy Birthday” banner with your name is hanging from the ceiling, and there are tables and tables of food and sweets all over.

Your face breaks out in a smile. Yes, your birthday was 2 weeks ago, but the gesture was nice nonetheless. You look at Peter, who’s smiling back at you.

“So? What do you think?” he yells over the loud cheering the space now holds.

You laugh, unable to stop smiling, “This is great, what is this?” you yell back.

“Miguel organized it, I helped, of course. He said something about ‘winning you back’, you should probably go find him” he explains, leading you farther into the space.

The amount of “happy birthdays” you hear is insane. You look around the room, spotting multiple violations of Miguel’s safety rules that on any other given day, would’ve driven him insane. You smile, reveling in just how much he cares about you.

You spot Miguel across the room, and you walk, making your way up to him.

“Hey,” you say softly, “You planned this?” the huge smile is still evident on your face. He looks at you, admiring just how beautiful you are, before returning your smile.

“With a little help,” he replies, humor in his voice. His heart warm at how delighted you look.

“This is insane Miguel” You look around the room once more, before looking back at him, “Thank you,” you say.

He gives you another tender smile before grinning, “Just wait till you see what I have planned for your half-birthday”

The confession takes you by pleasant surprise, “My half-birthday?” you laugh, “Miguel, no one celebrates those”

“Guess we’ll be the first” he teases

You smile once again, “Thank you,” you say sincerely.

“Am I forgiven yet?” he jokes, looking down at you.

You smile, peering up at him, “You’re getting there, I still need my daily coffees”

He laughs, “Good enough” he replies, and the two of you turn away, looking back at the crowd.

You’re first to break the silence, and you turn back to him.

“Miguel?” you ask. He looks at you, a small smile still plastered on his face, always happy to hear your voice.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to need my job back.”

-

tags: @happishark @prettysbliss @thel0velykey190 @saltykidcreation @chabelis @coffee-winter-and-silence @thesecretwriter @bitterprecious @leahnicole1219 @kyler11718

(just tagged everybody who commented)

[theloveinc]

miguel o'hara x reader - the thoughts you have about AND the first time you meet gabriella o'hara's soccer dad

(warning: essentially two different drabbles squashed together messily, shitty writing, gn except you self-describe as an oaf and mention wearing leggings)

-

Something about the the six-five plus, toned and perfectly tanned father of one of your soccer players. 

He stands at the edge of your soccer field almost every weekday, shouting encouragement to his daughter Gabi (on your roster and to you, Gabriella O’Hara) in his skin tight, green and red compression shirt and with sandy brown curls for bangs that drive you absolutely insane.  

You’re starting to develop a bit of an obsession with him, though as far as anyone knows (your co-coach, the snack team, the girls themselves), you’re right as rain when it comes to your outward behavior and refereeing… but in regard to yourself? When you take a deep, sinking dive into your subconscious? The thoughts you harbor during opening warm-ups, end-of-practice stretches, and every other free moment in between are filled with nothing but daydreams about what’s hiding underneath his clothing and if there’s strength enough to lift you up or bend you right over. 

NOT that you’ve ever greeted, much less actually spoken to him outside of a smile (on your part) and a wave at pickup, an ice cold water bottle and fresh cut fruit already in Gabriella’s hands as she waves goodbye, too… But you like staring at him, a real sight for sore eyes, as well as thinking about what you’d say to him if you ever got the chance.

Your daughter is our star player, you’d say, trying to hide your oh-so-obvious interest behind your sleek, silver shades and visor with the team’s logo on it. You hope he’d smile, at least tilt his perfect lips in some direction of up even if only by millimeters, but you’re not sure if he’d look better with kind eyes and smile lines or raised eyebrows which compliment a smirk.

But I prefer watching you. 

Instead, however, the first time you talk to him is the first time Gabi rolls her ankle. One of the few days a week he’s not there to supervise, though he arrives barely fifteen minutes after one the other instructors calls. You’re sitting next to her in the bleachers, a frozen water bottle your sorry excuse for an ice-pack, and he’s scaling (more like climbing, prowling, mounting) up the stairs three at a time just to make it to you.

In a perfect world, it would be a day where your hair wasn’t frizzed by the sweat on your forehead, you’d be wearing the flattering leggings instead of your old pair of stained joggers, and you wouldn’t be meeting under such unfortunate (though mild) circumstances. Unfortunately, however, it isn’t that other day, and the man you’ve been crushing on (as stupid as that makes it sound) makes it to you like he’s practically going to open his mouth and devour you whole—

“Daddy!” Gabriella interrupts the thought before you can finish it, her father’s eyes immediately slipping from yours to hers and softening as his clenched fists open to reach her, grasp her knee, take over holding the ice so she can free her hands to wrap around his neck.

“Mi amor,” he leans in, accepting the hug eagerly and without hesitation, all focus on her. “You’re hurt."

“It's okay! I'm okay," she grins when he pulls back, her smile toothy despite her swollen ankle that still throbs under your touch. "Coach carried me all the way here.”

She turns to blink her big, sweet eyes at you, and though you’re warming in embarrassment (hotter now than when the sun was at it’s highest) at the thought of her father seeing you as some big oaf who let their player get injured (and really, carried? The most she let you do was help to keep her stabilized by throwing an arm over your shoulder), you can’t help but melt at the sight her pretty browns.  

“It was, uh, nothing,” you try to smile. The words sounds so foolish coming out of your mouth, tacky like something out of a movie you’d never watch willingly, and especially so when he doesn’t even twitch and still all you can think about is the snarl of his lip as he goes in to bite.

“Obviously not, if it was—"

“Cállate, daddy,” Gabriella snaps, a pout on her lips as she reaches up to squish her fathers cheeks together (you wonder if she notices the stubble growing there) and to your surprise, he does so without hesitation. “It was all Sisi’s fault anyway. I saw her stick out her leg.” 

The attention on you is suddenly gone, replaced by the slide and squint of red eyes onto Gabriella, whose frown deepens as her father growls and his shoulders seem to grow. You’re honestly not sure whether you're more disappointed or relieved that you’re no longer the center of his attention and at risk of some sort of chastising, but you do feel the slight simmer of guilt in your stomach when the thought makes your loins clench.

“But you better not make a fuss; last time you called Sisi’s parents you started saying malas palabras.” 

"I did not," he huffs in a surprisingly sassy manner, poking her side with raised brows. "We were having a perfectly adult conversation about the way Sisi behaved."

Gabriella rolls her eyes, but giggles nonetheless, and you shy away from interrupting a father and his daughter.

“Mr. O’Hara…?”

“Miguel,” he corrects, peering at you out of the corner of his eye before Gabriella pushes his whole face into your view. "Miguel O'Hara."

“Miguel,” you feel out his name on your tongue. It’s sharp and acidic, like a wound still leaking fresh blood, lime in a cold soda, but also handsome too. “I can take care of Sisi if you’d like to take Gabriella home?" 

He nods at that, his face reverting back to something more serious and stern with a sigh. Wrinkled lines etch themselves into the sharpness of his creeks, the crease of his forehead, even his narrowed eyes though his expression is more forgiving now: his blatant disappointment easing into an exhaustion of relief with every one of Gabriella’s pats to his shoulder and the relief of knowing it wasn’t actually your fault. 

Gabriella grabs the sleeve of your shirt before can you manage to slip away unnoticed and leave the family on their own.

"Call me Gabi, ‘kay?”

Bashful and cute, she beams, a knowing look in her eyes that doesn't go unnoticed by Miguel (it still feels somewhat weird to finally have a real title for him) and has you promising intently even as you wave from below the bleachers—

Unaware of all the moments her attractive father has been staring back at you all these months.

[sapphicsundance]

Corazón Sin Cara

a/n: this is the first thing i’ve posted on tumblr and probably the last unless there’s enough demand 😭 ik the hype for miguel has died down quite a bit but i hope those that are still around like this silly little thing i wrote for funsies :) (srry if he’s ooc :( )

warning(s): mentions of alcohol (no one’s drunk), cursing, anyone can read but written with chubby!reader in mind, mentions of reader wearing dresses and heels but no pronouns used, no use of y/n, nervous miguel lol

Description: A night at the bar with Jess and Peter B., that’s all tonight was supposed to be. But because the multiverse is seemingly always against you, you couldn’t just have a fun, peaceful night without it being ruined by something (or someone). That’s why you found yourself in your current predicament, flustered and stiff as you swayed with the (admittedly attractive) leader of the Spider Society that was usually so cold towards you.

All you could feel were his hands on your waist, his skin warm even through the fabric of the dress you wore. Peter B. and Jess watched from the sidelines, idly chatting by the bar with smug looks on their faces. You sent them glare from across the room which only caused Peter to snicker and whisper something behind his hand and for Jess to send you a teasing wink. You heard a whistle from your dance partner, his index finger tapping your waist to grab your attention.

“Lost you there for a second.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly as he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips. “Oh- Uh- Yeah, sorry…” You stammered as you shook your head to snap yourself out of your stupor. Honestly, you couldn’t recall how you got into this situation. All you remembered was nursing a drink or two before being swooped away by strong hands, not even able to protest after he muttered a demand for you to dance with him just loud enough for you to hear.

From what you understood, Peter planned these outings sometimes in an attempt to have a “bonding experience” with others in the society. While the notion was sweet, schedule clashes and many other factors tended to leave only the small group you were with now. Miguel was an unexpected addition, half-jokingly invited by Peter in one of the many one-sided “conversations” they tended to have. No one actually expected him to show up, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks as he deadpanned at Peter’s overly enthusiastic greeting. He barely spared you a glance, giving you half-assed wave before almost immediately ordering a drink.

You scowled at the lack of acknowledgment, bitterly taking a sip of the drink you had ordered earlier to get the sour taste of his disdain out of your mouth. Sure, he may not have said anything to Peter, but he chose to be around him. Miguel avoided you like the plague, always making up some lame excuse to leave the room whenever you two coincidentally had a moment alone. When you confided in Jess and Peter with your complaints, they simply gave each other a knowing look before shrugging dismissively and waving off your concerns.

You felt left out, like some inside joke was being made and your gut was telling you that you were the subject of it. No matter how hard you tried, you could never decipher that look that they gave each other.

But your current predicament was a direct contrast to his previous behavior. His big hands were soft against the plushness of your waist, it was as if he was afraid of breaking you. You could smell the hints of alcohol on his breath when he got close enough, but he was still very much conscious of everything he was doing, which only confused you more. Why would he be consciously dancing with you when he can’t even stand to be in a room with you? Is he just trying to fuck with you?

Even though you both were just lazily swaying to the song playing over the speakers of the bar, you were stiff. You didn’t know where to put your hands and you were avoiding direct eye contact with him, seemingly finding the empty tables over his shoulder more interesting than Miguel himself. You heard him let out a short, breathy laugh before his hands gently guided your arms to rest on his shoulders. Goosebumps riddled your skin as his fingers ghosted over your forearm before moving back to your waist. The new positioning only brought your faces a couple of inches closer, but with the way your face heated up you may as well have been cheek-to-cheek.

You were quiet for a moment until the song you were swaying to changed, a vaguely recognizable bachata melody playing over the speakers. Miguel visibly perked up at this, looking down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. “What?” You asked with furrowed brows, narrowing your eyes in suspicion at the look he gave you. He shrugged in response, answering your question with a question of his own. “You know this song?” It was your turn to shrug. “From family parties, mostly. I don’t even know the name of it or what it means but I’ve listened to it too many times to count.” He raised an eyebrow at your explanation and let out a small hum, nodding in response to your words.

“I’ll lead.” He murmured, his gaze flitting around different points on your face, taking in every curve of your cheek, every eyelash that fluttered up at him, every wrinkle of your skin as you gave him that pretty, confused look he loved so much. “Here, let me just…” His voice trailed off and his hands pulled you in by your waist, his knee slotting in between your thighs. You didn’t say anything, the way his body pressed against yours and how his lips were so close rendered you completely speechless. You gave him your warmed cheek, eyes fixed on a nearby wall as he led the steps of your dance.

You were quite rusty, so it took you a moment to remember the steps to the dance. His proximity definitely didn’t help either. But before long your hips were moving to the beat of the music as well as they could in your tense and flustered state. You felt him lean down, his soft breaths fanning along the shell of your ear as his hands moved to rest on your swaying hips. “‘And if you’re fat or skinny, none of this matters to me.’” You turned your gaze back to him at his murmured words, a perplexed expression on your face. “Excuse m-” He shushed you softly, effectively cutting off your words.

He was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. “‘And I am not perfect either, all I know is that I want you the way you are.’” You stared up at him with pinched brows, your lips twitching into a scowl. He was starting to piss you off. He snickered at your expression, giving your hips a small squeeze. “Just translating the lyrics, you said you don’t know what the song is about.” He explained, trying to stifle a small smile in fear of annoying you more than he already was.

It didn’t work.

You stopped moving, pulling away from him but keeping your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked suddenly, brows furrowed in confusion and frustration. You reveled in the way his eyes widened in shock and how a nervous flush crept up his neck. “Wh-what do you-” “You know damn well what I mean, Miguel. You avoid me for no reason but you’re pressed up against me the second you get some drinks in you.” You huffed frustratedly, eyes searching his face. The flush had made its way to his face and he avoided direct eye contact with you, his eyes darting around every feature of your face other than your eyes. You pulled away from him completely, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him expectantly for his explanation.

He stood quiet and you scoffed, pressing your tongue against your cheek. “Can you at least have the decency look at me when I’m talking to you? Or do you not respect me that much?” His eyes widened and locked on yours at those words, his head shaking in disagreement. “No, that’s not what- It’s not because I don’t respect you…” He trailed off. He sounded desperate, like what you suggested was so outlandish he had to put a stop to that train of thought the second the words left your lips. “Then what is it, Miguel?” Your arms stood crossed over your chest as your heel-clad foot tapped against the hardwood floor of the bar impatiently.

God, he hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

“You just…” He cut himself off, sighing deeply and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself and will away the heat lingering on his skin. “You make me nervous. So nervous.” Your eyes narrowed at his vague explanation and you stood silent, a wordless way of telling him to continue. “I-I can’t explain it, you’ve been stuck in my head, it’s so frustrating.” He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated huff. “Your laugh, your face, it’s all so annoying… but I can’t get enough of you. I hate feeling like this.” He rambled.

Your eyes were wide when he finished speaking. It felt like the world had gone silent, all of the music and low murmurs of the people around you fading into silence, leaving only the two of you. You suddenly broke the silence with a soft, unsure laugh that slowly escalated until you were gripping the sides your stomach in genuine amusement at the situation. He let out a few tense laughs, an embarrassed flush on his face. “So…” Another laugh cut you off before you took in a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the giggles that were about to escape you again. “So instead of just asking me out, you decided to avoid me? And then what? The feelings would just go away?” You teased, a bright smile still on your face as you continued huffing out quiet laughs. He looked away from you with a pout, shrugging in response to your question. His response only made you laugh more.

“I thought you hated me.” You sighed after finally calming down from your laughing fit. “… I could never hate you…” He murmured after a moment, his face still turned away from you. You crinkled your nose at his words, shaking your head softly as you moved towards him again. “That was really cheesy but… sweet, I guess.” You shrugged with a small laugh, snaking your arms around his neck. He startled slightly at the contact but rested his hands on your waist.

“So… anything you have to say to me?” You mused, lightly tapping his nape with your fingers to get him to look at you. “Sorry for ignoring you…” He murmured begrudgingly, a stubborn scowl on his face. A smug smile spread across your cheeks. “Oh, that was cute.” You cooed teasingly. “But no. I was thinking more ‘Will you go on a date with me so I don’t have to pathetically avoid you anymore?’” You deepened your voice, mocking his tone with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes at your antics, attempting to stifle a small smile. “Okay, okay, I get it, I was being ridiculous.” “Understatement.” You murmured.

You watched his face as he filtered through many, many different emotions before he finally sighed in defeat. “Will you…” “Yes.” You answered quickly with a stifled smile. Miguel chuckled after his initial surprise. “Friday at seven?” You smiled. “Friday at seven.”

[xxoolii]

my brain is doing that thing where it imagines BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP and then they BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP BLEEEEEPPPP until i can’t think, you get me or what??

[monarchberrysblog]

Y'all I am scared. My hyperfixation is coming in waves and I'm scared shitless omg.

I don't need this rn! I want to cry 😭 I have so many ideas rn that I can't type!

[fellhellion]

god the way miguel intimately understands both desiring the ideal that promises a better future (his spiderman identity is specifically a means to protect, to be a different man than everything else he considers miguel o'hara to be), as well as the notion of being manipulated by the promise of something better (for him, it was conditional acceptance and validation of his worth by those who held power, and by extension, the systems they operated within). anyways! <- falls over and dies.

[cupcakeinat0r]

They say u attract what u fear

Ah omg!!!! DadBod!Miguel!!!! I’m so scared!!! Shaking in my boots rnnnnnn!!!!!

[gmxrk]

the taste of salt [part 1 of 3]

Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Your smartphone vibrated with an incoming text message. You never bothered to actually save the number, not that it was neccessary. Only his number would appear on your screen in sutch a glitchy way.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - "Changed your mind yet?"

-- OR --

Miguel O'Hara really wants you to be a part of the Spider Society. So much that he's willing to take you out for dinner.

Tags: mutual pining, eventual romance, eventual smut [NSFW in chapter three.]

Hope you'll like it!

Your smartphone vibrated with an incoming text message. You never bothered to actually save the number, not that it was neccessary. Only his number would appear on your screen in sutch a glitchy way.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Changed your mind yet?«

You rolled your eyes while tucking your smartphone back into your hoodie without replying. The lecture was more important. No time for him, he could wait - although he certainly didn't like the idea. But you were busy. Not that it mattered to him, or that it would stop him at all. This little game had been going on for a good two weeks now. And there was no sign that he would change his mind any time soon.

The thought tugged at the corner of your mouth. You had to admit that you felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Attention from someone like him - it felt good. Even if you still couldn't figure out why he was so interested in you of all people. After all, you didn't really stand out, considering how many superheroes were part of the Spider-Society at this point. Hundreds, if not thousands.

And yet he seemed to want you to join at all costs.

- -

It's always the same story - and yet somehow different. You were bitten by an radioactive spider and since then your life has changed dramatically. You have used your newfound abilities to perform heroic deeds. Defeating villains, saving people's lives, getting the neighbour's cat out of the tree - the typical life of Spider Woman. For a long time, you thought you were the only one.

Until before two weeks ago. Once again, New York has been under attack. However, something seemed to be significantly wrong with this villain. He looked - strange. Of course, all villains always looked kind of strange, but in this case it was difficult to look at him at all. The air around him seemed glitching, a rainbow dance of thousands of particles, as if reality was being torn apart wherever he was. The sight burned your eyes as they were unable to process what was happening.

As you made your way to the scene of crime, using your webs to swing between the tall buildings of New York, you noticed someone had already taken up the fight. Your mouth fell open, hidden beneath the mask of your suit. Even in the midst of the chaos, you recognised certain ... parallels to yourself. His battle suit was almost identical to yours - and yet somehow different. He was clinging to the villain, who was trying with all his might to shake him off. Although he was concentrating on the fight, he seemed to sense your presence rather quickly. His head jerked towards you, and you saw his eyes narrow beneath his mask.

»Who the hell are you?« He shouted through the commotion. 

»Well I could ask you the same?« You shouted back. »Who the hell are YOU? And why are you wearing my suit?«

»What?! Okay, listen -« The stranger was hurled by the villain, but he managed to weave a spider web mid-air - a bloody red glowing spider web! - and temporarily immobilize him. »- two of us could do it faster. So if you would be so kind -«

He didn't have to say much more to convince you to help. And indeed, the battle was quickly won. Both of you were able to communicate without saying much. As if you were finishing each other's sentences. Only in terms of the fight, of course. You wondered if it had something to do with your spider senses. It seemed the only logical explanation.

You watched in amazement as he finally made the enemy disappear with the help of a strange watch on his wrist. Suddenly there was silence. You stood opposite him and he was the first to remove his mask, revealing an angular face. And damn it, he was... tall, although his whole posture seemed a little slumped - like he hadn't slept properly for years. His gaze, however, was alert and piercing, the brown of his eyes shimmering almost reddishly in the setting sun.

»I was unaware of Spider-Woman's existence on this earth.« His voice was curious and he seemed not confused at all about the whole situation. 

Unlike you. »What do you mean?«

»When were you bitten?« He didn't answer your question. But obviously .... this guy knew about some things. And he kept looking at you, his arms crossed. Demanding an answer.

».... about six months ago.«

»Hmph.«

Suddenly a small, flickering hologram of a young woman appeared over his right shoulder. Her hair was brown and  tousled, kinda like his, and a pair of funny sunglasses with heart-shaped lenses was sitting on her nose. »Like hell you know about all the activities in every dimension, Miguel!« Her voice was pure mischief.

»Piérdete.« He wiped the hologram away with his hand. 

You just stood there and watched, still too bewildered to process anything what had occured the last ten minutes.

»Where -« You began. »Where did you send the villain?«

A sigh. »It's complicated.« He kept looking at you, prompting. »Perhaps I'll reveal more if you show me your face.«

You complied with his request, finally taking your mask off. He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head, as if he wasn't sure what to make of you.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze.

Nevertheless, he told you everything. Or rather, he just put another of those watches on your wrist and suddenly your body was torn away from the city and hurled through a thousand dazzling colours. When you opened your eyes again, barely managing to keep your last meal inside you, you found yourself in a place you had never visited or heard of before.

A giant building in a city that was similar to your home - and yet somehow different. Nueva York, Earth-928, a place that was impossible to exist. 

But maybe it wasn't. He explained that you had just travelled through time and space. He told you about the thousands of different dimensions with their thousands of different spider-heroes and spider-villains. About the anomalies, about the canon. And the task he had set himself: Keeping the universe in balance with help of the big spider society. Basically any spider- men or woman he could get. He sounded monotonous, almost bored, like one of your professors, as if he had rattled off this lecture hundreds of times before. 

That was probably the truth.

He ended with an offer: He wanted to recruit you. New reinforcements for his team, to fight anomalies, maintain the canon, that sort of thing. And with the question of whether you were willing to follow him.

And with all this information and your newfound knowledge of the hidden, mysterious parallel universe and the dangers it holds, your answer couldn't have been clearer:

»Hell, no!«

- -

That should have been the end of the story, but it wasn't. Although he'd sent you back to your own world, he'd refused to take back the strange watch that made these unnatural journeys possible in the first place. As an... offer to return to Nueva York if you changed your mind, so to speak.

You didn't. You wouldn't. You still hadn't processed all that information. That your world wasn't the only one, that there were a thousand other universes - probably a thousand other YOUs. And it scared you. You wanted nothing to do with it. Your own villains kept you busy enough already. 

And maybe, maybe, you would have forgotten these events long ago if this guy hadn't been so damn persistent. Since then not a single day has passed without him grinding your gears. Hell, the very next day, he'd tracked you down in your university. He probably came there just for you, to try to convince you of his cause. 

He would accept your no with a stoic expression, but that wouldn't stop him from trying again the next day.

And when he couldn't make it to you in person he would spam your smartphone with text messages.

It was annoying at first, but over time your interactions had developed into some sort of strange game. Because if he had left you alone, you would actually have joined his cause long ago. After all you couldn't stop thinking about those other universes and your chances of meeting like-minded people, if not making friends. 

But his obtrusive attitude only earned him your defiance - and your curiosity to test his patience. To see where the journey would lead, and at what point he would lose interest in you.

Apparently he didn't. Quite the opposite. And you couldn't deny that you basked in his attention.

- -

The lecture was over. You took out your smartphone, reading his message again. You didn't even know how he got your number in the first place. But you suspected that people like him - rich geniuses, like he obviously was - had access to such information.

As if sensing that you were looking at your smartphone, the next message arrived immediately.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Are you here?«

With a sigh and a smile, you typed an answer.

- you - »What is it?«

He replied immediately. You started to think he had been staring at his smartphone all along, waiting.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »You're not telling me you've already forgotten my offer, are you?«

-you - »I remember the offer. I also remember I politely declined.«

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Look, I'll pay you double. Hell, triple or even quadruple, if that would make you change your mind.«

- you- »And as I've often said before, it's not about the money. So... thanks, but no.«

Usually your conversations would end here, at least for the rest of the day, before he would reach out tomorrow again. It had become somewhat of a ritual for you, because his messages always arrived at the same time - at lunch. As if he actually knew you were aviable now. And sometimes you wondered if he felt the same way. Whether it had become a habit for him as well.

You were about to put your smartphone back in your pocket when it buzzed again, indicating another message. You frowned as you opened the chat once more.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »What if I say please?«

Your heart leapt. This was ... definitely new. And suddenly you felt kind of heated. You looked around, but no one was paying attention to you. Your eyes went back to your phone. Yet another message.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Please.«

»Fuck... now what?« Now you were sure he was teasing you. And you kinda liked it. After you pondered for a moment you decided to push your little game even further. What could possibly go wrong, right?

- you - »Not now.«

He jumped at it, to your surprise ... and satisfaction.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »What do you mean, 'not now'? Why not now?«

Your stomach was rumbling. You hadn't had any breakfast today. And then something crossed your mind.

- you - »I'm hungry.«

If he was clever - and you know he was - he would understand your hidden request. But an answer was a long time coming. You waited one, two, five minutes before finally giving up. Maybe you overdid it now. Until suddenly -

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Okay, so you want me to take you out for dinner?«

Now the heat started rising to your face. Your ears were burning. You looked for the nearest chair in the cafeteria and collapsed on it. »Fuck, that .... fuck.« You didn't know if you were happy or just sick.

- you - »Don't you have more important work to do?«

Why were you so nervous all of a sudden? He was tiping already.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Recruiting you IS part of my work.«

- you- »You really want me to take you up on your offer, don't you?«

He seemed to be getting serious now, if he hadn't been persistent before.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Oh, I DEFINATELY do.«

You stared at the chat, speechless, as he continued typing.

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »So, what do you say? I'll pick you up for dinner at six and we'll discuss our 'work'.«

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »;)«

You swallowed hard as you scanned the latest messages again. All this time you thought you were in control. Maybe you never were. Maybe he had known all along where this would lead to. Who could say? In any case, you didn't want to lose this little game at any cost. So you wrote back.

- you - »Okay.«

- 5̵̝̀͘ṕ̸̟͝1̴͇̓̎d̴͇̭̆͝3̷̘̠̑͝r̶͖̀m̷͔̖̅̓4̴͈̌̕n̶̝̟͛2̸͕̋͌0̵̩̲̅̓9̴̠̂̃͜9̵̘̠͌̈ - »Come to the university then. And don't forget to put your 'watch' on.«

»... Fuck!« Another curse escaped your mouth, als you put your smartphone away for good this time. But it was already too late to back off now. 

What a mess you've been caught up in...

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

I lowkey highkey wanna do a hockey player! Miguel x figure skater! Reader fanfic cuz I’m currently reading Icebreaker and I need to combine my two new obsession.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - jealousy

miguel gets jealous possessive after a new intern flirts with you this is part of the same universe as my call oneshot!

Being 2nd in charge of the multiverse is... honestly not that hard for you. It’s mostly just co-leading, and being a secretary. Lyla helps out a bunch, but sometimes, a sassy AI can only do so much. 

Jess informed you of a new intern she recruited. Apparently, he’s having his first day today, which means you’ll probably have to do a quick run-through of things with him later. 

For now, it’s your fated duty to sit with Miguel at his desk so he doesn’t get all pouty later. He starts huffing and puffing when you aren’t near, takes it out on the kids sometimes. 

Thanks to your suggestion, Miguel invested in a nice desk and swivel chair for the office, so now it looks more like an actual workspace instead of a maniac’s plot room. (either way, he his one lmao)

Since Lyla’s gone for the time being, you’re standing up on the office platform, tapping away at a multitude of screens. Miguel lays lazily in the office chair, swiveled up behind you to rub his face into your upper back, as well as run his hands along your tummy. 

“Hun, you gotta let go. I needa tour the intern.” You mutter, closing in on an ID photo of the recruit.

“No.“

“Well, if I don’t do it, then who will?“ You ask. 

“Jess.“

“She’s busy on her break. Pregnant women need breaks, you know.“

“Ugh. I don’t want you to leave.“ He whines. squeezing you tighter. 

You start squirming out of his grip, pulling his pinky off of your stomach. Inching away, you push Miguel away by his head. Reluctantly, he starts letting you go, lazily running his hands onto the skin of your hips and lower thighs before letting go. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, baby.“ You say, scuffing up his hair with your palm. Gracefully, you leap down from the platform, somersaulting onto the floor and skating out the exit. You hop over a few stray cardboard boxes. 

Miguel watches you stroll away, and fixes his hair back into place. 

Lyla magically appears, phasing in and out with a different sly look each time. She snickers, flickering all around Miguel’s head. 

“Whipped.“

“Shut the fuck up.“

. . .

Miguel’s blood starts to boil as soon as you roll in with that stupid, bastard of an intern. He’s too close to you for comfort, so close to his arm nudging yours... Miguel’s teeth start to clench, his fangs close to drawing blood from his mouth. He’s paying too much attention to you, there’s a vibe he gets that he hates to his core. 

Everything about him is aggravating; the blonde hair, the snarky smirk, all of it.  

“...and this is Miguel’s office!“ You say, gesturing your hand to the majority of the area. 

“Sweet, nice to meet the bossman.“

Bossman, his ass. Miguel would only ever let you call him bossman. 

“Miguel! Come down!“ You yell, and his heart warms in his chest. He turns around from his standing form on the office platform, eyeing the intern in order to scare him a bit. 

“Hey, what’s up man! Glad to finally meet the man behind the slaughter!“ The intern exclaims, his hands rested on his hips. 

Miguel fights every urge to both roll his eyes and tackle the recruit, keeping a somewhat straight face on. He chuckles a little, not a single trace of a smile on his face. 

“Heh, yeah? Excited to meet the bossman?“ Miguel taunts, but it looks like the intern can’t tell he is. 

“Heck yeah dude! Where do I start?“

Miguel starts nodding a little, plastering on a face smile, chuckling a bit...

Before he throws the entire office chair at the recruit. Not to hit you, though. He’d never, ever hit you. 

Instantly, the intern turns away, shielding his body with his hands. In the nick of time, though, you latch your webbing onto the chair, slinging it away to side before it could harm anyone. You cross your arms. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry about tha- MIGUEL!“ You scream. 

And he throws a literal file cabinet at the man. Again, you latch it out of way without problem. 

“What th'heck, man?! What’s your fuckin’ problem?!“ The intern yells, spreading his arms out. 

“My fuckin’ problem is you nagging my wife!“ He roars. 

“Wait a sec- she’s your wife?“

Miguel then  leaps down from the platform, chin held up high in a sinister glare. Slowly, he steps over towards the both of you, fixing his eyes on the intern the entire time. 

Miguel’s tall, really tall compared to the newbie. He pokes his finger to the recruit, leaning in real close. 

“Stay at least 5 feet away from my wife at all times.“ Miguel utters, and you kinda feel bad for the new guy. 

You cross your arms. “C’mon, Miguel. He’s literally new, take it easy on him!” You say back, and Miguel pouts, whines. Possessively, he reaches over to you, pulling in you in by the hip to try to soothe you. It doesn’t work, and you present yourself from giving into his needy touches.  

And then, you turn around back to the newbie. “Gosh, I’m so sorry about that! He’s usually not like this-”

“Man, fuck this.“ The intern exclaims, taking a few steps back in agitation. “Take me back home, I ain’t dealin’ with this shit!“

He storms off, kicking a stray cardboard box on the way out. 

“Aw, crap.“

“Finally.“

You swerve back around, hands on your hips. “Miguel, that was uncalled for.”

“Yes it was! He was smothering all over you!“ He yells, throwing his hands up in the air like it was the most obvious thing ever. 

“Well, now thanks to you, we lost a recruit.“

“One of literally thousands!“

“And now, there’s papers everywhere on the floor!“

“Shhh, honey, I’ll clean it up later.“

Ignoring your frown, Miguel finally pulls you into him, pressing your lower back into his own with a nose into your hair.

“I saw the way he put his arm around you. He was flirting with you too. Hated it.“ Miguel utters. 

“When?“ You ask.

“On the surveillance.“ He says, and you sigh. He’s right, the guy was flirting with you for a bit, but you chose to ignore it so you could get over with the tour faster. 

“Eh, he gave me the heebie jeebies from the beginning.“ You say, and Miguel automatically squeezes you tighter into him, a deep grumble bellowing from his inner throat.

“I’m never letting you tour anyone ever again.“ Miguel admits.

“After that? Go ahead.“ You scoff, and finally, he sighs in relief. 

He tries drags you back to the office platform again, but then forgets that he threw the chair, grumbling in regret. Instead, he just hovers behind you for the rest of the day, occasionally pressing a smooch to your head. 

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader

cw: non-graphic mentions of violence, suggestive bit at the end lmk if u want an nsfw of this!!

ok but imagine shy lil missus o'hara who's a stay at home wife while miguel goes off to either alchemax or to fight some bad guys

and miguel comes home stressed all the time but just a touch of her hand on his shoulder grounds him after all that fighting

and miguel is tired but happy, grateful for his little love taking such good care of him :)) giving you a forehead kiss before he goes off to the bathroom, settling in the perfectly warm bath prepared for him before indulging in his little wife's amazing cooking 

but one night when he comes home a little bit more tense than usual

she's very tense

she's heard him yelling at his subordinates over the phone and yelling at dumb-ass cops who get in the way of him stopping some thief

and while miguel has always been soft and kind and gentle with her, she's scared that she'll accidentally do something wrong :((

so miguel walks past her, exhausted, and almost smiles at the smell of dinner

no forehead kiss for her :(( poor baby

sitting at the dining table head in his hands as he mumbles about not getting the chance to grab a snack, let alone a break in spanish

and she knows he's hungry, but she knows his whole body will be aching if he doesn't take a bath to regulate his body temperature

but poor baby doesn't know how to say it without him possibly snapping at her :((

she's standing on the other side of the table nervously fidgeting with the dish towel and finding the right words to say

"y-you... you gotta t-take a bath f-first..."

miguel sighs into his hands. "i know, but im really hungry, cariño..."

"b-but... if you don't... you'll be s-sore..."

he looks up, brows furrowing. "what?"

he was genuinely confused why you seemed so scared of him, but his voice came out a bit more bluntly than he meant it to.

your eyes widen and you look down. "n-nothing," you mumble, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "sorry."

"hey, hey, baby..." miguel stands up, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms. "what's wrong? did i say something?"

"no..." you sniffle, "jus thought i made you mad..."

"no, no, no, i'm not mad," he kisses all over u: your teary eyes, your wobbling lips, your forehead, the tip of ur nose

miguel kisses you deeply and then hugs you close to him. "im not mad, i promise. i'm just so so tired and hungry and the food smelled so good i'm gonna die if i don't get to taste it," he whispers, laughing when you giggle at his declaration.

"the bath can wait," he caresses your cheek with his hand.

"b-but you're gonna get cramps tomorrow if-"

he cuts you off with a big smooch to your face. "it doesn't matter. im staying home tomorrow."

"wh-what?!" you look up at him as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. "but you have work- and- and you're spiderman- and-"

he shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair.

"i'm your husband first, and all that other shit second."

miguel sighs, pulling you closer.

"i know i haven't been taking care of you the way i should be."

before you can interject about how he's doing so much already, he presses a finger against your lips.

"ssh. and alchemax and the cops don't really give a shit about me, can probably last every other day without me there. they'd probably have a field day without this jackass there," he chuckles. "but you, baby, i need to return the favor- ah, ah! let me finish, gatita- return the favor for keeping this place a safe space for me."

a kiss here, a kiss there. "entiendes?"

you nod, hugging him. "just glad you're home," you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.

he spends the rest of that hour enjoying the food you made for him while also feeding you and rattling all about the thugs he stopped that day.

then he pulls you into the bath with him, despite your protests, and laughs as he splashes you with the soapy water, making you squeal and threaten to spray him with the shower nozzle

then the two of you dry up and snuggle in bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. miguel smiles down at you and you smile up at him, before he rolls you on your back and crawls over you to make the sweetest yet roughest love to show you just how thankful he is for having a sweet lil thing like u to come home to <3

(part 2 is here~)

[xxoolii]

your sin of lust

hii, im goo! freshly 18 so please be kind to me. i love writing, especially poetry! i’ve always loved tumblr but it is my time to go to the dark side >:D

i can write fanfiction on characters from a wide range of shows as long as they are of age, i can write content creators if they have specifically said they are okay with nsfw.

please keep this page 18+ anyone without any age indicators will be blocked immediately. i am dead serious here.

what i will write!

nsfw

fluff

gore (only lightly)

degrading

character smut (if of age)

content creator smut (depending on boundaries)

underaged characters SFW!!

hard kinks

soft kinks

i’m not against omega verse shit either 0-0

what i will not write!

vomit

scat

pee

(the basics)

underage nsfw

straight up exhibitionism

pet play

age regression

age play

extreme power imbalances

and that’s about it!!

please feel free to send me requests, questions or suggestions! my requests are absolutely open. and i’d love to start writing right away!

thank you for reading l!! i hope you have a lovely time here!! in my garden of lust!! <3

about me

master list (to be made)