#spiderman 2099

[oharaslover]

i bet on losing dogs

part two of congratulations series masterlist

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: more angst (to nobody’s surprise), clothed grinding, and masturbation (f)

synopsis: after going through a toxic cycle with his ex girlfriend, miguel learns that maybe he does deserve some type of love in his life.

author’s note: hi guys 😋 (with the intention you don’t hate me after this part)

word count: 6.4k

I always want you when I'm finally fine

Miguel had you placed in his lap, his lips ghosting on your neck in only a way that he was familiar with. His fingers gripped on your hips, moving you against his clothed crotch. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. The touch of him was consuming you completely, but the fact was that you wanted nothing more but to be completely absorbed by him.

You were fueled by the desperation of almost losing him, your body practically melting as his hands travelled over your body. It felt like he was exploring you for the first time, his fingers ghosting across every expanse and curve of your body. "You were always so beautiful," the sudden whisper by your ear had goosebumps forming all over your arms. He had a smile plastered on his face, the type of smile that allowed you to see the slight imperfection in his teeth. The one that you loved so much.

"I missed you," you didn't recognize your own voice, you were breathless. So affected by so little. "Yeah, what'd you miss about me?" his tone carried a teasing tone, his lips on your collarbone to leave a couple marks on there. Marks that conveyed that you still, undoubtedly, were his. You placed your hands on his shoulders, using that as leverage as you rubbed your aching cunt onto his thigh. "I missed everything about you. Your besitos, your back rubs, and the way you fuck me," you managed to get out, finding it difficult to form any actual sentences now.

"That's it, use me however you need to," he whispered against your skin, his tongue licking a stripe down your neck. The contact had you shivering, your cunt brushing up against the tent in his pants. Your hips swiveled as you moved against him, the friction stimulating your clit. "You're gonna cum from just my lap, hermosa? ¿Me extrañastes tanto?" his voice took on a taunting tone as he saw you squirm in his lap, getting close to your orgasm. All you could do was nod to his question, biting your lip to stifle any moans that were threatening to come out.

(you missed me that much?)

"You know I'll always wait for you, right?"

Now that part had gotten too unrealistic for your own sake. You opened your eyes, a discarded pizza box in the middle of your hotel bed and a vintage science fiction movie from the 20's playing on the television. If only you could've convinced yourself to stay in that dream for just a little bit longer. At least so you wouldn't have to deal with the insistent throbbing in between your legs.

Strings of slick connected your cunt to your panties when you slid them down, your walls clenching around thin air for some kind of friction. Maybe a cold shower would help? You weren't exactly responsible for your water consumption if it ended taking too long. You stripped off your pajamas, getting in the shower and closing the glass door behind you.

Your hand ghosted down to your vagina, your fingers running against your folds before you stuck one inside. Damn it. Despite the fact that you knew what made your body tick, you just couldn't find relief. Not when the dream was in the forefront of your mind. Not when you could practically feel his touch on your skin, leaving you all too desperate as you tried to imagine that your hands were his instead. You brought up your free hand to your hardened nipple, pinching it between your pointer and middle finger.

It was almost comical the way that your fingers left you feeling much more empty than when you started this whole ordeal. Another reminder that Miguel wasn't here. You shortly established a rhythm, pushing your fingers in and out on your cunt to get off. Your bottom lip was captured in between your teeth as you resisted the urge to moan, like people hadn't done more obscene things in these hotels. The cold water hit your clit, the swollen nub throbbing for some kind of stimulation as you worked yourself open.

You applied some pressure to your neglected clit, ranging from rubbing it in small circles to pinching it in between your fingers. Anything that would make this end. You chased the all too familiar feeling, the coil inside you tightening up before snapping in half. Your slick coated your fingers as you came, the cold water a stark contrast to how ignited your body felt right now. As much as you tried to convince yourself on the walk over to this hotel that you needed to get over him, you didn't know how you would even begin to start with that process.

You hated feeling this way, unable to get over Miguel. But in a way, how could you when everything just felt so unfinished between the two of you? Even before you left for California, the time between the two of you had been too short.

You leaned your body against the cold shower tiles, closing your eyes as the after effects of your orgasm washed out. Despite the fact that the throbbing between your legs was gone, you couldn't ignore the way your heart clenched at just the memory of tonight. 'Fiancée' kept running through your mind, how the man who seemingly had no intention of settling down was now about to become somebody's husband. Maybe you should've just gone back to sleep.

You truly hated Miguel O'Hara.

You hated his stupid crooked teeth. The way that his cheeks curved up when he was actually amused by something. His stupid geneticist jokes. The way that he seemed to know your body better than yourself, working you like an instrument with every single encounter. How his eyes only seemed to be reserved for you in every event, like you were the only one worthy of being looked at by him.

But most of all, you hated the way that your stupid, bleeding broken heart only seemed to beat for him.

"You could've told her the truth instead of letting her mope around the place like a kicked puppy," Tempest told Miguel as the two of them stepped into their shared apartment. He didn't need much more specification on who she was talking about, not when most of his attention had been on you for most of the night. The way that your emotions were so clear to see despite the smile that you forced on your face. How he wanted to kiss that little frown off your face.

Tell you that's it's always just been you.

He undid the buttons of his shirt, sitting down on the couch to take off his shoes. "Her and I were never anything serious, I don't have any reason to explain things to her," was the same excuse that he gave himself over and over to justify why he kept this a secret for so long. Tempest let out a scoff, but she didn't add much more to that as she slid her heels off. He itched to go and help her, but he knew he'd probably get a heel thrown at his head if he did.

Tempest went over to her own bedroom, making a beeline to switch out of the clothes that she'd chosen for the night before going back over to the living room. "Take it from the dying person. There's nothing selfish about wanting your own happiness," she told him, walking past his bedroom to head into the living room once more. Now there was food for thought. Prioritizing his own happiness instead of trying to fix the things around him. A thought that he didn't want to entertain right now.

He headed out of his room after changing out of his clothes, rubbing his eyes as he headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. "You would've been a decent poet," he steers the conversation into safe territory, conversation that didn't involve how he was feeling. "Not really. I was gonna pursue something in sports, maybe in sports medicine," she responded, walking over to the kitchen where he was standing. Tempest was fairly decent at discerning when he wanted to drop a subject, so she decided on doing just that.

"Goodnight, Miguel," Tempest spoke up after a while, her body exhausted from the events of the day. She'd skipped out on her daily nap to go to the party with him, her body facing the consequences now. Not that she'd ever voice any concern though, not when she was getting free food and a free place to stay. As well as access to low cost healthcare.

"Good night. Let me know if you need anything," Miguel told her, passing her a bottle of water so she'd be able to take her night pills. Tempest looked over at her pill box reluctantly, taking out the small capsules before gulping them down. No matter how many times she swallowed the pills, the process of keeping them down never got any easier. Tempest gave him a small thumbs up, heading over to her bedroom and closing the door behind her. Not that he'd miss any movement that she made with the thin wall separating them anyways.

Miguel laid down in bed with one hand behind his head, his gaze directed at the ceiling like it would reveal some kind of magical answer to him. He had no actual responsibility to stay loyal to you, yet he knew that if the roles would've been reversed that he would've lost his shit. That he would've gotten down on his knees and begged you to reconsider, reconsider the happy moments that the two of you had together. Albeit, most of them short and temporary but still sweet.

He was doing this to help out Tempest. Yet, she showed more interest in having him be with you than he did. She probably felt guilty for being stuck in such a predicament with him, the thought backed up by the one time she'd asked him what he got out of this. He wasn't completely sure what he got out of this arrangement, really, but he knew was that some part of him felt inclined to.

One of the things that he did know was that he needed to see this through after what he’d promised her.

"Ay mierda," he muttered to himself, trying to shake the remaining salt out of the container. A couple specks fell onto the chicken he was cooking, barely enough to cover a millimeter of it. He turned down the heat on the stove, going over to his cupboard to rummage for some extra salt. He had everything in there, an assortment of oregano, paprika, cumin and yet, no extra containers of salt. He looked over at the electronic clock on his wall, trying to discern if he had enough time to go to the grocery store before realizing he had work in an hour.

The idea of potentially bothering his neighbor was almost enough to get him to turn around but he decided to stick it out. What was the worst that could happen, anyways? That they turned out to be a serial killer and his knock on the door was the last thing that they needed to snap? Fat chance. "Just ask for some salt. It can't be that bad, right?" he muttered to himself, looking over at the door as he brought his hand to knock. He swallowed back some of his nervousness, forcing himself to bring his hand over to the wood.

Miguel knocked on his neighbor's door, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. Sounds of scuffling could be heard inside but the door remained closed. He knocked once more, hoping that this one would warrant some type of answer. "It's not a marketer or something, just your neighbor! I just need some salt!" he called out, realizing afterwards that he probably looked like a maniac shouting in front of a door. The thought of someone passing by and seeing him like this immediately made him press his lips together and wait in silence.

Miguel accepted defeat after waiting for an answer for a couple more seconds, heading back to his apartment. He didn't have enough time to rush out to get more salt without risking being late for work, deciding instead to just go ahead and make himself a microwave dinner. "Wait, sorry," he heard behind him, turning around to see his neighbor poking her head out through the door. Well, at least she didn't look like a serial killer. Still, he wouldn't let his guard down just yet.

"I have a bit of extra salt. You can come inside while I go get it," his neighbor continued, opening the door a bit wider just to let him in. The space was much more different to his own, much more full of ambiance and personality. While he used his apartment as just a place to sleep in whenever he came back home from Alchemax, he could tell that his neighbor had spent the time in making sure that this apartment was well loved.

His eyes darted down to the multiple bills scattered around in her kitchen table, his curiosity getting the better of him. Cancer treatment bills. None of them which lowered from the thousands. Tempest came back with the container of salt in hand, rushing to scoop up the papers before he saw too much. A couple of them flailed past her grip, slowly swaying from side to side before falling on the floor. Not that it helped, he already got the basic idea. Most of those were past their due date.

"Your insurance doesn't cover for some of it?" He knew he should've kept his mouth shut by the way Tempest immediately shot him a glare, but he just couldn't help himself. A part of him couldn't help but worry about the type of cancer treatment she was receiving, if any at all. Tempest let out a small huff, her arms folded across her chest. She was trying to put on a tough persona, but Miguel was able to look past that.

"I don't have insurance after I had to quit my job. I'm not exactly eligible for any services either so it's been purely out of pocket. Hence the whole bills on the table thing," Tempest finally spoke after she realized that her glare wasn't affecting Miguel the way she intended.

"Well.. my work offers insurance to those couples who live together and married couples. The guarantee for it working when you're married is much higher," he spoke up after a while, leaning behind one of her kitchen seats. To think he came over for a bit of salt and now he was making a whole wedding proposal. "Should've left you outside to get your own salt," Tempest muttered, almost laughing at how insane the situation sounded. Getting married just to get the treatment she desperately needed.

"You know, people technically get married out of love. Out of convenience, maybe. But just for insurance purposes?" Tempest brought up the topic, her arms folded as her gaze scrutinized him. As hard as she tried, she couldn't figure out why he was doing this. For a stranger, of all things. A part of her felt that this wasn't just from the kindness of his heart.

"You're acting like that isn't a marriage of convenience."

"Nobody's gonna believe that we suddenly just want to get married."

"Nobody else matters."

Tempest continued to throw out a couple of excuses to try to scare away Miguel from the prospect, getting met with rather simple solutions to her concerns. Damn it, as much as she hated to admit it, he was pretty decent at convincing her of this idea.

While you were in the shower last night, you'd gotten a message from Gabriel asking if you wanted to come over to his place. To which you agreed to eagerly. You were planning on watching romance movies for the day while shitting on them for the unrealistic expectations they set, maybe ordering a bottle of wine and pizza if you were feeling up to it.

"You couldn't have told me that you were planning on staying in Nueva York from now on?" his voice called out from the kitchen, Romeo Santos' 'Imitadora' playing in the background. He lowered the volume on his speaker when he listened to your footsteps approach, setting down the knife he had in hand. He was in a much better state than you'd expected, you were expecting to find him in a bathrobe with sunglasses on after the copious amounts of tequila he'd had last night.

"And you couldn't have told me Miguel was engaged? I almost made a fool out of myself," you countered, leaning against the counter as the different spices filled your nose. A mixture of adobo and garlic sizzling on a piece of meat he had on the stove. "You always make a fool out of yourself, though. Remember that one time you fell at the pool during my 21st birthday?" he retorted, leaning against the kitchen counter with an amused smirk on his face.

How could you not. You'd gotten more drunk than Gabriel that night, mixing up all different types of alcohol in an adventurous pursuit. You'd drunkenly called Miguel to pick you up after the night was over, stumbling over your feet when you walked over to his car. The two of you drove around most of Nueva York, though all the buildings blurred together in your inebriated state. One of the best memories that you had despite the throbbing headache that followed the next day.

The two of you ended up at a greasy burger spot on the skirts of town, though that burger had tasted like a slice of heaven the minute that it touched your tongue. You didn't remember that much about the event itself, but you could remember the overwhelming amount of safety that you felt with him. How comfortable he made you feel in his presence. How he entertained every single of your stupid remarks without much resistance, even adding onto it at times.

He'd taken off your heels and changed your clothes into something more comfortable, showing no reluctance to do so. "Shh, it's okay sweet girl. You just drank too much," he whispered in your ear, his hand rubbing small circles as you were leaned over the toilet throwing up. "I'm never touching another glass of tequila again," you groaned, a lie to both yourself and Miguel. He continued to rub your back throughout the ordeal, staying by your side through it all. "Yeah, I'm sure you won't," he remarked, handing you a napkin once you were done.

Every memory that you had in Nueva York was tainted in some way by Miguel O'Hara.

"I didn't think the two of you had anything serious going on anymore, I'm sorry. I would've said something otherwise," Gabriel finally said, adding in the tomato that he'd cut along with the onion slices. Fair point. You didn't really have a reason to expect anything, not when you and Miguel were just sleeping around with no semblance of commitment. "Nah, it's fine. I shouldn't have expected that he'd just be here waiting for me," you responded, glancing over at the stove as he cooked.

You looked down at your phone, a notification ping bringing your attention to it. You weren't expecting to see a message from Miguel, surprised at the fact that he still even had your number. Your eyebrows practically shot up to your forehead upon reading the contents of the message, an invitation to his engagement party with Tempest. You debated on not going but you looked over at Gabriel and asked,

"Hey, how do you feel about going to Miguel's engagement party as my plus one?"

Tell your baby that I'm your baby

You weren't sure who was the bigger idiot in this situation. Miguel for inviting you to his engagement party or you for actually accepting it. As much as you were willing yourself to be mature throughout this situation, you didn't have this much maturity in you. His apartment was adorned in a mix of gold and yellow, a couple streamers hanging off the walls and a couple balloons bouncing around. "Maybe we should go. Get some food at the bodega," you suggested, looking over at Gabriel.

"No way, you dragged me out here now we're gonna stick it out," Gabriel's words came out muffled as he stuck a hors-d'oeuvre into his mouth that a butler was passing around. Miguel had really gone out for his engagement party. "I'll get you food from another place?" you tried another approach, hoping that maybe he would ease up this way. He pointed with his mouth over to the wide array of plates set up at a table, the good looking much more inviting than any bodega you had in mind. You really didn't have any proper reason to leave.

Gabriel left your side upon getting approached by a couple of family members, some third/fourth cousins that had been dying to see him again. You looked out from a distance to see him dancing around with them, anything that would be a nice distraction from looking around for Miguel. Your eyes always managed to find him in whatever room you were in. Not that it was too hard of a task, though. You stepped outside to catch some air, to convince yourself that you could last at least another hour at this event.

You didn't fit either of their lives anymore. As much as you desperately wished you did. The thought had come to you while you were in the balcony, looking out at the night sky. Everyone had someone else to converse with, someway of knowing each other. The thought stung more than you could've imagined, that you were still stuck on memories and a fling from the past while Miguel had been perfectly capable of moving on. The champagne that you had in your hand went down easier than the realization of the bitter truth.

"Hey," you didn't need to look behind you to recognize who'd just stood next to you, the scent of his cologne practically gave it away before he even got the chance to approach. "Hey," you returned the greeting, keeping your attention out on the night sky. "Is the party not up to your liking? You don't have to be outside, y'know," he told you, stepping just an inch closer to you. A scoff escaped from your lips before you got the chance to stop it, an incredulous look on your face when you turned to face Miguel.

"Are you seriously asking me that? You invited me to this engagement party knowing damn well about our previous history together. You didn't even bother to tell me you were engaged. If we weren't dating, then we were at the least friends."

"I wasn't sure how you were going to react to it. You and I didn't exactly have anything all that serious," Miguel realized it was the wrong thing to say upon seeing your expression, the way your face scrunched up in disbelief. The excuse had worked pretty well to get Tempest to leave it alone, so he figured that it would've worked on you too. Never had he regretted saying something so fast.

"Seriously? You think that I hooked up with you throughout these years just because you were a decent lay?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think? It's not like we did a lot of talking when you came over those past couple times."

"It was because I loved you, you idiot! If it was just about the sex aspect, I would've hooked up with someone back in California!"

"I was gonna tell you at the party that I intended to stay in Nueva York this time around. So I guess we'll be seeing more of each other," the words ran through Miguel like a cold bucket of water, the meaning of your words not at all lost to him. You had wanted to try again. Miguel wanted to pull you back into his arms, tell you that you were the one he envisioned having a future with. But... he didn't. He let you run off, looking at the back of your head before you eventually disappeared.

He stood at the balcony, letting himself ponder about a different alternative to this one. One where Tempest wasn't sick and didn't require his help. One where you'd never left for California, where you stayed by his side. Where the two of you would clean dishes, a cumbia playing in the background as the two of you basked in each other's presence. Where that would just be enough. Where this engagement party was for the both of you, an engagement ring on your finger. A thought that he entertained more and more often.

"Oyé, Tempest doesn't look too good," Gabriel's voice took him out of the fantasy he was in, immediately turning around and scanning inside of the apartment to see if he could find her. She looked winded, despite the fact he knew that she hadn't done much dancing tonight. "Alright, thanks," he cleared his throat, opening the glass door leading back to his apartment before going over to her. "Try to stand up for me, can you do that?" he spoke just low enough for her to hear, putting one hand on her arm.

She'd been sick for a couple weeks now, he knew that much. But he'd never seen her get this bad. The thought was enough to scare him into shooing all the guests away, rushing Tempest to the nearest hospital that he could find. "Come on, stay with me," his voice wavered, seeing the way that Tempest struggled to stay awake. Damn it, he'd never forgive himself for not taking her earlier to the hospital if she didn't get better. He put her favorite song on the radio to see if that made a difference. It didn't.

He rushed with her into the emergency room, beckoning for a nurse to come over after getting Tempest seated down on a wheelchair. She was still conscious, but she was unresponsive to everything going on around her. Her breathing sounded strangled, like the action itself was causing her pain. He found himself with his head buried between her hands, praying for the first time in a couple years. The action was strange to him, but he needed to have someone to depend on in this situation.

If only he'd come when these symptoms started to present themselves.

Tempest wobbled over her feet as she made her way down the small stage that the wedding boutique had set up. Miguel let her lean her body against him, her hand tightly pressed against his chest for some kind of support. "You okay?" he'd seen her get worse these past couple of days, but he decided it'd be better not to push her too much. "Yeah, it's fine," she sounded like she'd just ran a marathon, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to regain control of her breathing.

It'd be better not to make a scene out in public.

"Talk to me, what's going on?" Miguel prodded as the two stepped into the apartment, helping Tempest sit down on the couch despite her protests. She did hate when she got treated like she was weak. Tempest shook his hands off, taking a sip from the water bottle that he'd brought over. He could tell she was just itching to tell him that she was fine, not that the lie would do either of them any good though. "The treatment's just taking more out of me than I expected. The one today just left me feeling particularly weak is all."

"The doctor said it should be expected, Miggy," though the nickname annoyed him to no end, he knew better than to deny a dying person this small thing. Though the excuse didn't sound too coherent to him, he decided he would handle this the way that Tempest wanted to. Instead of him reassuring her, she was doing the task instead. Miguel really needed to do a better job at being a fake fiancé. He let out a small sigh, sitting down by her side and looking over at her with concern etched across all over his features.

"Just tell me if it ever gets too serious, okay? If you ever start to feel too sick or too fatigued. I'll take you to the hospital and I'll get you the best shocking cancer treatment there is, okay?" He told her, taking the water bottle once she was done with it. "I know and I appreciate that, more than you know. But I'm fine, I'll get used to the treatment plan eventually," she responded, the two of them getting into a conversation about what they wanted to order. He always ended up getting what she wanted to regardless.

He thought she was doing better after that, but maybe she'd just done a better job at hiding her sickness away from him. He'd seen her smiling and tending to her plants, even going as far as humming to them. An activity that distracted her from the fact that she couldn't be outside for too long. Little did he know that while the flowers bloomed and thrived under her care, she was decaying with each passing day.

I'm losing by their side

The doctor's words were starting to blur into the background, something about how the treatment plan had been too aggressive. That her body couldn't take it. It all sounded the same to him, really. Just pure gibberish that was meant to rationalize the loss.  "If you knew she couldn't take it then why'd you force her into such an aggressive plan?" Miguel kept his distance as he spoke, every word coming out like venom as he looked at the doctor. His hands balled up into fists but he remained in the seat where he was.

Last thing he needed was to deal with both a funeral and a bail hearing tonight.

"We thought that it was the best approach. She never complained about it," the doctor told him, keeping an even tone as he spoke. Miguel's stare was full of disgust, disgust at the way that he somehow made it sound like it was Tempest's fault. He should've gone to someone better, should've done a number of things differently. He really should've been less desperate when trying to help her. His brother's words ran through his head, so many should'ves and not enough doing. And now Tempest was no longer in his life.

The treatment plan wasn't something that was meant to heal her completely, but it was something that was meant to slow down the rate that the cancer was advancing. Instead, it'd only shortened the time that she'd been given. He blamed himself for not listening to her when she'd expressed that the medication and the levels of chemotherapy were starting to become too much, each session leaving her weaker and weaker. He blamed himself for not being able to save her even if the task was practically impossible.

He played with the engagement band that had once been on his finger, waiting absentmindedly for the doctor to come. He was still processing the fact that he wasn't going home with Tempest tonight, that he'd eventually have to go back home to an empty apartment. Nothing ran through his mind as the doctor gave him the full report of what happened, his gaze empty as he looked at the blank wall. No amount of details would change the fact that he wasn't able to save her. As hard as he tried to, he'd failed not only her, but also himself.

He couldn't bear going back home now, getting welcomed to an apartment that smelled like Tempest all around. From the cookie batter that she'd been making earlier to the scent of her perfume permeated on the couch cushions. It was all too much. Having all these little reminders with the knowledge that they'd soon fade away with time. So he found himself driving over to your place without much thought. Your presence was a calming one, one that would anchor him down to earth before he did something stupid.

Headlights flashed in a flurry of colors, the brightness on some of them almost hurting his eyes as he sped down the streets of Nueva York. "What the shock are you doing, man?!" He heard an angry driver scream behind him, a loud honk following after. He should've been more cautious, he really should've. Cars were swerving to get out of his way on the road, a train of honking following him with every red light that he disregarded. But his brain was on autopilot. His only mission was to get to you.

A distraught Miguel was not what you were expecting to see on your doorstep at two in the morning, but yet here he was. His eyes were brimmed red, tears leaking out of him like a faucet as they combined with the rainfall. His grey Alchemax hoodie had turned into a darker shade, his body shaking in front of you. He hadn't even registered that you'd opened the door, his attention on a speck of dirt that laid on your doorstep.

His body clung onto you when the door swung open, holding you the same way a child would hold a teddy bear for comfort. "I couldn't save her," he babbled, his throat raw as he spoke. After the initial shock fizzled out of your body, you rubbed his back in an attempt to calm him down. "I tried, te lo juro que trate," he repeated as he held you close to his body, needing something to stay stagnant for now.

You stayed quiet, providing him the comfort of your presence and your touch. His shoulders shook with each sob that escaped his body, his chest heaving as his lungs struggled to catch up to him. "I know you tried, Miguel," your words fell on deaf ears as he continued to sob, his grip on you tightening. Something to tether him to reality. "I did, I really did," he whispered, sniffling before more tears began to roll down his cheeks. You'd never seen him cry this much before. Never seen him cry ever, actually.

You set the cup of tea down, his hands shaking as he reached over to grab it. A couple drops fell onto the floor when he tried to get a good grasp on it. "I'm sorry, I know I'm making a mess out of your apartment," he'd made a wet spot on your couch after taking a seat, not that it was your first concern at the moment. "Hey, no. You've got nothing to apologize for," you assured him, taking a seat next to him.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it as he took a sip from the chamomile tea that you'd brought over. His throat bobbed as he struggled to keep it down. A part of him was convinced that he didn't deserve to be treated this way, with such care and delicacy. After he'd treated you like something disposable, as something that didn't matter. But he couldn't help and be selfish, enjoy the feeling of having your concern directed towards him. Of having you still care about him.

"Thank you," his voice was hoarse, his cheeks completely tear-streaked as he looked up from the floor over to you. He got up from the couch, taking off the wet hoodie that was practically pasted onto his body by now. "I have some clothes that you can borrow," you told him, seeing the hesitation in his face as he debated on taking off the rest of his moist clothing.

You took out a black shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants that he'd let you borrow one time after staying at his place a couple years back. A pair of clothes that you told yourself you'd throw away time and time again, only to let them reside in the back of your cabinet. You were thankful that your reluctance to move on really paid off in this moment. You made your way over to the living room, not feeling comfortable with leaving him alone for too long while he was feeling like this.

You passed him the dry set of clothes, picking up the wet pieces from the floor before leaving to the kitchen to give him some time to change. You set the dry clothes in the dryer, starting up the first round before walking back over to the living room. Miguel's movements seemed delayed as he struggled to put his shirt on, like his brain wasn't communicating properly with his body at the moment. "Here, I got you," you instinctively found yourself needing to help him, pulling the shirt down to cover him up.

He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing right on your floor.

You'd grabbed a blanket over from a closet, placing it down on the couch cushion next to him as well as a plush pillow. "Try to get some rest, okay?" you told him, shutting off the light before starting to make your way back into your bedroom. "Do you mind staying here with me tonight?" his voice was unnaturally quiet. You were sure you would've missed it had you not been paying attention. You weren't sure what the protocol was for sleeping with somewhat of an ex but you decided to oblige.

His arm snaked around your waist in an attempt to hold you close, his body heat practically radiating onto your own body. His body shook behind you but he made no noise, an occasional sniffle here and there. It pained you to see him this upset, without being able to do much other than just offer him your comfort. You wanted to be able to take away his pain despite how upset he'd made you these past couple months. It pained you to see him so helpless, so willing to blame himself despite not having any actual fault in it.

You weren't sure how much time had passed when Miguel's body finally fell slack, snores the sound of lawnmower escaping from his lips. Every time that you tried to adjust his body, the grip he had around you tightened in an attempt to keep you in place. He couldn't bare to lose you too. Even if it was just for a couple seconds. You shut you eyes, trying to will yourself into falling asleep. After a while, you just stopped trying and let yourself get consumed into sleep.

tag list 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02 @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @mvlanchqly @tomalymme @boringpersonality @laysmt @scaryplanetdestroyer @crimin4llyins4ne @cheerrioeoz @peachey-pie

[whoiseduardito]

ME DA ESTA PIEZA?

pairing: miguel o'hara x latina!fem reader warn: green flag miguel, luis miguel's music, miguel is not traumatized, his parents were good parents and loved each other dearly. theme: domestic.

the room filled with the familiar oranges, a vivid tint on the walls, she stands up from the bed, she just needed his touch, she needed a hug.

"mi reina" his mask dissolved, his eyes had heavy bags below them

"let me guess, more anomalies?"

"si" he sighed, walking towards her, kissing her forehead "i'm beat." he hid his face on her hair, inhaling her scent.

"look, how about you go to take a bath, while i make you something to eat?" miguel huffed

"mi reina, son como las 12" he murmured "go to sleep, i'll join you right now."

"have you eaten anything today? eh?" he froze, knowing he can't lie to y/n "eso es lo que pense, amor." she kissed his cheek, only to walk away, but miguel grasped her hand, pulling her softly back to him.

"y/n, it's not necesary, me recalentare algo."

"no." she pulled him in, kissing his lips softly, his pout being noticed on his lips, his hands nestled in her waist

"bueno, pero, podría pagarte con una pieza?"

"una pieza? there's not even music-" she chuckled when miguel began kissing her neck, and began twirling her around. "miguel-"

"lyla put some music." he murmured against her ticklish skin,

"on it!" the small hologram appeared "how about some luis miguel?"

"perfect" he hummed, all while cradlying her face, and tenderly kissing her lips, and swaying with her softly.

the song began with some classical instruments, miguel swayed with you, and then luis miguel's voice began melodiously lulling you both onto a pace

'Y me muero por llevarte al rincón de mi guarida En donde escondo un beso con matiz de una ilusión'

miguel kissed your head, leaning his head onto your hair, pulling you onto his chest, you both swayed to the romantic song.

'Se nos va acabando el trago, sin saber que es lo que hago Si contengo mis instintos o jamás te dejo ir'

"...y es que no sabes lo que tú me haces sentir" he singed softly, chuckling "did you know, my mom love's luismi? she would always play his music while cooking, and you know what my papá would do?" he twirled her and swayed with her.

"he would hug her from behind.." miguel changed your position "and would kiss her." he peppered your face with kisses "and he would help her cook." the couple swayed until the song finished

"mi reina, how would a shared bath sound?"

[dahh0ni]

It's a deal?

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x mafia!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex

Summary: Bad girl, good guy.

A/N: Requested by @shadofireshinobi! Thank you. love!!

Not Edited

Fuck, it's cold.

Miguel shrugs up the large bubble jacket higher up his body, the warm material meeting his chin as he turns into the narrow alleyway. His head is ducked down, yet white puffs of breath appear in front of his face. He sniffles as he looks behind his shoulder, the street lights getting dimmer the further he goes. He looks forward again with a sigh, stopping in the middle of the alleyway.

It's quiet. There aren't even any cars on the main road behind him. He can hear the dripping of water from earlier rain as it hits the ground, echoing against the brick walls. He looks up the walls, not spotting anything in the darkness, even with his enhanced senses. He shivers, shrugging in his jacket again. His lips thin, and he turns back around to the alley's entrance.

He doesn't get very far.

"Are you lost?"

The voice is silky smooth, and he can feel a pleasant feeling vibrate up his spine. He turns slightly, his head tilting up. She stands right above him on a creaky fire escape. He isn't sure how he didn't hear her, but he isn't surprised either. He turns fully to face her, his heart bounding.

"Yeah, think you can help me?"

He can hear her amused chuckle, watching her shadowed silhouette. She walks towards the end of the fire escape, a large groan sounding before rusted clicks fill the small space as the ladder falls. Miguel walks over, climbing it easily. She's waiting at the top for him, and he pauses to look up at her. A gust of wind blows, making her hair and nightgown sway. It makes Miguel's mouth dry and he swallows.

"I thought I told you not to wear that here."

Her voice disrupts his thoughts, and he huffs as he finally stands in front of her.

"Just got off duty." He says, shoving his hands in his pocket. "It's a bit cold to be wearing that out here."

He nods at her outfit, the end of his chin pointed at her. She rolls her eyes, her hand leaning on the railing as her hip juts out.

"It won't get me killed." She says in distaste, her eyes scanning his visible suit to signify the meaning of her words.

He chuckles at that, knowing how right she is. She pushes past him, going to the open window. She slips in, and Miguel bends down to follow her in. It's much warmer in the small apartment. It's not technically her's, just a small place she rents for these meet ups. The money she spends on it gets lost in the expenses of her shopping, but Miguel doesn't think her father or brothers would care too much if they found out she rents it. They would surely get mad if they found out why.

She closes the window behind him, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. He leans down, trailing kisses along her shoulder as his hand slips to the edge of her dress. It ends up against her thigh, the soft skin melting into smooth silk and lace. She hums as she moves her head to the side, giving him room to explore her neck. His teeth nip lightly over where her pulse is, causing a pleased sigh to escape her lips.

"Missed you," He mumbles against her skin, his hand slipping under her dress.

His hand skims over her thighs and up to her stomach, resting against the warm skin. Her hand lands over his on the fabric, her body pushing back against his own. Her other hand finds it's way into his hair, pulling his head slightly so their face to face.

"Don't be cute." She smiles teasingly, "Don't think I didn't see you on that rooftop two days ago."

His cheeks flush at the mention. He wasn't trying to follow her, he just happened to stumble upon the scene. He didn't know all that noise was her and her brothers dealing with... business. But, it was good business! Honestly, the world could do without two corrupt CEOs. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Her nose bumps against his, and his eyes dart down to her lips. She has that pretty lipstick that he gifted her a few visits ago on, and he subconsciously licks his lips. Her smile widens, leaning forward to kiss him. He instantly moans, closing his eyes and holding her tighter. He only lets up when she moves to turn, wrapping both of her hands around his neck as the kiss deepens.

He almost trips when she makes him move backwards, walking him until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch as he throws his coat to the floor. He collapses heavily onto it, tearing the two apart, He looks up at her as she goes to straddle his lap, his hands gripping her waist. She flips her hair to the side, smiling down at him before she leans down to his neck. He groans softly as he tilts his head back, his eyes closing as her lips suck and kiss at his neck. His brows furrow in a silent moan as she grinds against his already hard cock.

Even if his hands weren't under her dress before, he can feel the fact that she was no panties on. The warm mound of her heat rubs against the technological material of his suit, his hips bucking up to meet her moves. She giggles against his neck, pulling away as his lashes flutter open. He has that silly, hypnotized look on his face. She can't help but smirk down at him, the silly little spider that's absolutely smitten with her.

She cups his cheek, stroking the slightly stubble-graced skin. He leans into her touch, eyes practically glowing with hearts as he looks up at her.

"Get rid of the suit, Miggy." You whisper down at him, biting your lip as he gives you a small nod that turns into enthusiastic nodding as your words click.

It recedes in seconds, and both you and Miguel moan as his weeping tip just barely skims over your folds. His eyes drop down, huffing when the ends of your dress block his view. You smile slightly at the pout on his face, your hands slowly grabbing at the ends of your dress as your bring it up to your waist. The second your pretty pussy is revealed to him, Miguel's breath catches.

It rushes out of him instantly when you slowly sink down on him, a choked moan parting from his lips as your warmth pulsates around him. His hands grip your thighs tights, his eyes snapping up to your face. You're looking down at where you two meet, but you meet his eyes once you feel them on you. You smile lazily at him, smirking when his face contorts as you begin bouncing on his cock.

His mouth drops open in breathless moans, his eyes dreamy as he studies your face. You bite your lip as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, your own moan filling the room. Miguel whimpers up at you as you clench around his cock, eyes rolling back with a groan as you buck your hips. You giggle at how easily it is to make him go crazy, leaning down to quite him down with a kiss.

He hums against your lips, eagerly returning the kiss as he squeezes your thighs tights. You can feel that pleasant burn of an orgasm forming in the bit of your stomach, and your trail your hands down until they land on top of his. You silently move his hands up to your waist, and he makes quick work of bouncing you on his dick, already used to the silent command. You moan against his lips, pulling away and throwing your head back as your hands land on his shoulders in support.

A pleased gasp leaves you as you feel Miguel's warm mouth wrap around your nipple through the silk, a desperate noise leaving him. He can feel your walls tightening around him, and he sucks harder on your covered nipple to distract himself from the twitching of his cock. He wants- needs- you to come first, his hips hammering up into you. You're surprised your lip isn't bleeding from how hard you're biting down on it, but it finds relief when the band inside of you snaps.

A loud moan is directed at the ceiling as you come, your pussy clamping down on him as he stills. He pants out your name as he spills inside of you, the feeling dizzying. You giggle at the fucked out look on his face, gently easing yourself off of him. He leans his head against the back of the couch, taking his time in catching his breath. You hover just over his lap, pushing the hair out of his face with a smile.

You have him right where your family wants him.

[greensagephase]

A Romantic Concert Night

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: A romantic concert night with Miguel, your boyfriend. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: a lot of Spanish spoken (translations provided); reader understands and speaks Spanish; pre-established relationship; artist/group is Latino; romantic and soft Miguel; intimacy between Miguel and reader; mention of love making but no actual smut; a little of protective Miguel health wise, more like caring; Miguel doesn't care about dropping money for you, mans just want to spoil you; mention of future marriage; hand kissing, hand holding; Miguel just being a romantic boyfriend A/N: Inspired by the song “Quédate Bebé” by Grupo Frontera and me going to one of their concerts last year. If anyone reading this recognizes Grupo Frontera, then you know all their songs are about love and heartbreak, so that's the vibe for the concert (I’m a hopeless romantic and so is Miguel). So just enjoy a cute, sweet, and romantic Miguel! Masterlist

Miguel and you have been fans of this music group for months now. You know all their songs and lyrics. Their music is always part of your car rides, in which you’re usually Miguel’s passenger princess, and more often than not, the two of you end up singing while he drives.

Knowing this, Miguel immediately buys tickets as soon as the group/artist announces a tour. He surprises you with them, looking forward to spending a lovely evening at your side because that’s something Miguel loves, spending time with you, his beautiful girlfriend.

The day finally arrives after weeks of waiting for your tour date. Miguel and you dress up for the occasion. You honestly can’t stop looking at Miguel because he looks fine as hell, and his cologne - it does something to you. You can’t help but smell him a few times before you even leave your shared apartment because he smells so good. Eventually you head out of your apartment and head to the elevators. The plan is to drive to the venue, so you need to go down to the building’s car garage. However, just as the elevator’s doors open, Miguel tells you that he forgot something.

“Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” Miguel says giving your hand a squeeze before he hurries to retrieve whatever he forgot. You can’t help but wonder what it is since it appeared that both of you had everything already. You shrug it off and wait for him for a few minutes before he returns with a small smile.

“Let’s go, mi vida [my life].”

Miguel drives to the concert, his fingers interlaced with yours at some points during the drive. Other times, he lays his hand on your thigh, his warmth comfortably sinking into your skin. And of course, you play some of the artist’s/group’s music just to prepare yourselves during the drive.

Upon arriving to the venue, Miguel takes care of everything. He handles the ticket situation and holding hands, he asks if he can buy you anything as he glances at the food concessions.

“Do you want something to drink, mi vida [my life]? Maybe we can buy some water bottles, just in case we get thirsty? Or maybe a snack?” he offers, leading you towards the concessions to take a look.

He ends up buying some drinks and snacks for the two of you before he leads you to your seats since the venue is accommodated for seating and the concert is a smaller one with only about two thousand seats.

A few minutes after settling down and getting your things together while you wait for the concert to start, you pull out your phone and lean into him.

“Picture?” you ask softly.

“For the memory,” Miguel replies with a smile, nodding.

He throws an arm around you and pulls you closer for the picture, but he doesn’t even look at the camera the first time. Instead of facing it, Miguel is looking straight at you with that beautiful and endearing smile of his that only you can inspire in him.

You end up taking a few more in which he actually faces the camera after you playfully remind him to look forward but even then, Miguel still finds himself looking at you even after you’re done taking pictures. He just loves you so much he can’t stop himself and of course, you look so beautiful in the outfit you planned out for weeks after he initially surprised you with the concert tickets. You’re simply a sight Miguel can never tire of.

When he does look away, however, something catches his attention. There are a few staff members walking around selling lit up objects that are typically sold during concerts like bracelets and the sort, and one of those things are roses.

Without a second thought, Miguel stands up, suddenly towering over you. He beckons one of the sellers even when you tell him not to spend his money on that. He carries on with his plan and buys you one anyway.

Other people sitting nearby simply watch with little smiles as they see the interaction because love.

Miguel sits back down and with the sweetest smile, hands you the rose. “Una rosa que no se marchitará- como mi amor por ti [a rose that won’t wither - like my love for you].”

You don’t even have it in yourself to say anything negative or even scold him about spending his money on this because the look on Miguel’s face is just too endearing and cute. You happily take the rose and discreetly give him a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for the sweet gift.

“Mi dulce novio [my sweet boyfriend],” you whisper.

“Todo para mi reyna [everything for my queen],” he replies, pecking your cheek right back, his hand finding yours because he loves hand holding.

As the concert almost starts, Miguel, being a planner and always looking for your well being, pulls out some ear plugs because he doesn’t want ear damage for either of you.

“Oh, is this what you were forgetting?” you ask Miguel as he gently slides one of the ear plugs into your ear.

He grins, a gentle hue of pink growing on his cheeks. “Yep, this was it… We have to look out for our hearing, especially since we’re so close to the stage,” Miguel says, since he didn’t mind dropping more money for seats close to the stage. He slides the other ear plug in. “There. We should still be able to enjoy the concert perfectly, and maybe earn ourselves a little headache and hearing damage.”

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” you ask as you take the other set of ear plugs and help him put his on.

“What can I say?” he replies, smiling. “Just looking out for us, mi vida [my life].”

Once the concert starts, Miguel and you stand the whole time. There’s not a second either of you sit down because you’re enjoying the concert so much. Like much of the crowd, Miguel and you sing the songs and even dance a bit, at least as much as it’s allowed in the space since the concert sold out.

At points, Miguel wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close and looking at you with that smile that makes you melt.

Looking at him, you can tell Miguel is loving the concert, and he is. He’s enjoying every second of the concert partly because of the music and having the opportunity to see one of his favorite artists/groups perform live but primarily, it’s because of you. Being here with you, his sweet and beautiful girlfriend, is what’s making the night memorable for Miguel.

As the concert continues, Miguel keeps stealing glances at you, his heart racing at the sight of your happy singing and sweet smile.

“¿Donde están las solteras [where are the single ladies]?” one of the group members asks halfway during the concert to get the crowd riled up.

Just to see Miguel’s reaction, you jokingly raise your hand, only for Miguel to grab your wrist and lower your hand gently. He looks down at you with a feigned grumpy look, knowing you’re just messing with him before he leans into you, his mouth close to your ear so you’ll hear him.

“No les des esperanza a los muchachos. No estas soltera. Eres mia y yo soy tuyo [Don’t give the guys hope. You’re not single. You’re mine and I’m yours],” he says, lightheartedly. His voice is sweet and tender because he knows you’re just playing around, but he still loves to say it.

You’re his and he’s yours.

You smile up at him. “Siempre [Always].”

The rest of the concert flies by and before either of you know it, it’s over. After so much singing and a bit of dancing, the two of you are starving, so you go and eat at a nearby place. During dinner, you poke fun at each other for your raspy voices from all the singing, especially when your voices go out in mid-sentence.

With satisfied appetites and new energy, Miguel and you begin the drive home, thinking the night has come to an end.

Except, you get home and upon entering your shared bedroom to unwind for the night, you find rose petals scattered on the floor in a neat path leading straight to the bed where more rose petals forming a big heart decorate your duvet. The path of rose petals is lit up by small, warm lights creating the perfect romantic ambiance. You suddenly remember earlier when Miguel claimed to have forgotten something and told you to wait by the elevator. Now you see what he had been up to.

Just as you’re about to turn around, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“Sorpresa [Surprise],” he whispers in your ear.

You chuckle and lean back into him, resting your hands over his arms and just melting into his embrace.

“You tricked me,” you tell him, smiling as your gaze lingers on the bed.

“Just a little. I’m glad you didn’t think much of it when I pretended to have forgotten something,” he says with a soft chuckle near your ear that immediately sends a heat to your core. “We don’t have to - you know - do anything if you’re tired,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “I just wanted to do a little something because well,” he pauses and turns you around so you’re facing him. Miguel leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. The most beautiful set of brown eyes stare into yours. “Te amo [I love you],” Miguel whispers lovingly before he kisses you tenderly, his arms still wrapped around your body, pressing you against his warmth. You kiss for a few seconds, locked in each other’s embrace before you pull back gently, a little breathless.

“Te amo [I love you],” you whisper back to him, reciprocating those two words that make Miguel’s heart swell with happiness and love.

He pulls you closer, somehow, and kisses you again. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck to keep your head close and steady, not wanting to part from you any time soon, even if just to breath.

With each passing second, Miguel’s statement about not having to do anything is thrown out the window. The gentle kiss slowly turns into something else - something desperate and hungry that leads to Miguel laying over you and countless murmured “I love you’s” into each other’s lips as he makes sweet love with you, his body worshiping yours.

A while later after your passionate love making and tender after care from Miguel, you rest your head on his chest. Your bodies are tangled up, fitting into each other’s perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. With an arm wrapped around you, his free hand tenderly traces your arm, feeling the softness of your skin.

“May I ask something from you?” he asks softly.

“Anything.”

Miguel smiles and lifts your face so he can look you in the eyes. “A donde vayas, llévame. Te prometo que no molestaré [Wherever you go, take me. I promise I won’t bother you].”

“Miguel,” you say gently, smiling.

“Por favor [Please],” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “No matter what, ups and downs, I wish to be with you because I don’t know what I’d do without you. Una vida sin ti no tiene sentido. Es como morir sin haber vivido… So I ask, quédate para siempre [A life without you has no sense. It’s like dying without having lived. So I ask, stay forever.]”

Smiling, you kiss his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, and at last, his lips tenderly.

“I have every intention of staying with you. Forever,” you whisper against his lips.

Miguel’s hand slides from your arm to your back. His fingers trace your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your own lips. He caresses your face with his free hand. “I have every intention of making you happy and feel loved. I also intend on… One day, putting a ring on this hand,” he says taking your left hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh, really?” you ask smiling.

“Claro que si [Of course],” Miguel says with a teasing smile, thinking. “Tengo mil planes, propuestas para amar, tú y yo en la soledad [I have a thousand plans, proposals to love, you and me in solitude].”

You chuckle softly, recognizing the words from one of Miguel’s favorite songs.

“Te escribí un poema para enamorarte [I wrote you a poem to make you fall in love],” you say the next lines.

“Solo quiero amarte [I just want to love you],” the two of you say, smiling.

Miguel nuzzles your face before pressing another kiss to your lips, knowing that he could spend the rest of his life like this and never ask for anything else. As you rest your head on his chest again, Miguel is filled with happiness and gratitude for the beautiful romantic evening you’ve shared together.

“We should go to more concerts,” he murmurs, his hands tracing your back again. “So I can plan more evenings like these.”

“You already do,” you say, looking up at him with an afterglow from the intimacy you’ve both engaged in, a sight that always makes Miguel feel privileged as he’s the only one that gets to see you like this. “You always plan the loveliest dates.”

“But I’d have more opportunities, mi reyna [my queen]. More excuses to spoil you, and you know I love spoiling you,” he whispers, cupping your face. “I want to give you everything.”

“I just want you.”

“You’ll always have me,” he replies, his thumb tracing your chin with a smile. “And I’ll try to give you what you need and deserve. Plus, if we can end the night like this more often - no complaints.”

Chuckling, you playfully roll your eyes. “We can have these nights without everything else.”

“¿Si [yes]?” Miguel says with a soft smirk, knowing the answer.

You nod. “Yes, no question about that. You know that.”

“Hm, I know but still… I like to build the mood.”

You laugh softly and kiss his hand. “Fine. We’ll go to more concerts. You’re already so romantic, but I did notice you were extra romantic tonight. I love that,” you tell him.

“It’s a plan then,” Miguel replies pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, whispering sweet words for your ears only before he pauses. “Ay, caray [oh, damn],” he says.

“What?”

“I forgot I have a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries for us in the fridge.”

You laugh softly and look up at him again, amused at the sight of Miguel’s sheepish smile as he gazes down at you.

“It’s your fault,” he says, poking your cheek gently. “You distracted me with all the kisses. I forgot all about the champagne and strawberries.”

“So, now it’s my fault?” you ask.

“Yes, why do you have to be so beautiful and give the best kisses in the world, hm?” he asks, cupping your face again. He kisses you on the lips for a few seconds. “Stay here, I’ll go get everything.”

And with that, you stay in bed tangled up in bed sheets as your sweet boyfriend steps out of the bedroom to retrieve the last little surprise of the night, only wearing black boxers and fresh scratch marks on his back.

I just want to go to a concert with Miguel, hold his hand and kiss him fr! Thank you for reading!!! Also, for anyone interesting in listening to the song, here's a preview!

-Alondra

[liliacamethyst]

Ok but, an alternate universe where Miguel constantly feels the need to show off Gabriel and maaaaaaaaybe competes with Peter B. about who's kid is cuter

Mayday vs Baby Gabe

In an alternate universe, Miguel and Peter found themselves in a never ending competition to prove who had the cutest and most talented child.

It all started when Peter casually mentioned that his daughter, Mayday, already knew how to talk at just one year old. Normally, Miguel wasn't like that, but something in Miguel clicked, and he felt an irresistible urge to show off his son, Gabriel. The rivalry escalated quickly from there.

One sunny afternoon, as the two families picnicked in the park, Peter pulled out his phone to show a video of Mayday reciting the alphabet flawlessly. Not to be outdone, Miguel, his muscles subtly flexing as he reached into his own pocket, presented a clip of Gabriel, barely two, solving simple puzzles with a focused frown that mirrored his father’s usual stern expression. However, the grumpy facade melted into a warm smile as Gabriel clapped his tiny hands together, clearly proud of his achievement.

"Well, the puzzle-solving is cute, but it doesn't really scream 'spider,' if you ask me," Peter said with a playful eye roll, always enjoying teasing Miguel. He noticed that whenever he annoyed Miguel a bit, a vein in Miguel's neck would start to throb—a sight Peter found amusing.

"Mayday's spider sense is unbeatable. She was born to be Spider-Man in every universe." "Aye Peter, have you seen how gracefully Gabriel swings? He's a fucking natural!" Miguel boasted, unable to resist the opportunity to show off.

"Oh yeah? Watch this!" He held out his hand, and Mayday gracefully swung from tree to tree using her web-slinging abilities. "Now that’s impressive, huh?""Well, that's nothing compared to Gabriel's web-swinging technique. Watch this!" Miguel activated his own web-shooters and swung through the air with Gabriel securely strapped to his chest.

"Oh, really, you wanna play like that Mig? Well, you should see Mayday's incredible agility. She swings like a pro,"Peter shot back, a playful smirk on his face. Miguel chuckled darkly with that playful glint in his eyes, not one to back down. "Well, Gabriel can already crawl up walls effortlessly. It's like he was born to be a little Spider-Man."

Now it was Peters turn to raise an eyebrow. "Is that so? Mayday can stick to any surface with ease. She's got the Spidey skills down pat."

„“Alright, Peter that’s it! Let’s settle this once and for all. We'll have a Spider-Man costume contest for our little ones. Whoever wins gets the title of 'Cutest Spider-Kid.'" ☀️🕷️

[gomooink]

more meme posting

[improbable-outset]

Anyone wanna be tagged in this? I’m only half way finished…😇 (age somewhere visible on your blog pls)

[scwibbs]

I have a MIGHTY NEED for fat Miguel somehow accidentally buying the wrong tshirt and it definitely doesn't cover his tummy🤭

WAITER WAITER! I WANT THAT FAT BOY! -Luna probably

[sweetimpurity]

im sorry buuuuuut Miguel’s dick is not one you wanna take a chance on. Like GIRL take the plan b PUHLEASE that dick was made to put babies inside (unless you’re ready for his babies bc it would take him 0.002 seconds to get you pregnant)

[n1an-gao]

Spideysona sketch dump teehee

[madlittlecriminal]

[04] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

Warnings: Danny is an oc, mention of death in the family (not reader or miguel related), mention of pregnancy (not reader), annoying customers, two cliffhangers in one (im sorry), patrick o'hara (web-slinger)

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

Another day, another employee seeming to irritate him to the core. Miguel didn't understand what was so hard for this guy to understand that no meant no, but seeing him beg Miguel for a day off when his PTO ran out was comical to say the least.

"For the last time, Danny, you used up your PTO. I cannot give you the day off simply because you don't want to work. If you were at work more often instead of doing whatever you want to do, then maybe you'd have the day off." He says while leaning back in his chair.

"But you don't understand! I need the day off, Mr. O'Hara! Please!"

"Give me a valid reason why and I'll think about it." It was bullshit. The only way Danny was going to get out of this is if his fiancée was giving birth or if he had a death in the family. For any other reason, Danny was going back to work and Miguel didn't care if Danny was going to throw a fit.

He was honestly surprised that Danny and his fiancée were still together considering he hardly works and they live together.

"Well...you see..." Danny started, but he couldn't come up with a valid excuse other than not wanting to work.

Miguel waited for him, his leg folded to where his ankle rested on his knee and his hands folded on top of his abdomen. He tilted to the side as he listened to Danny stutter.

"Danny, I'm a patient man. However, your stutter isn't natural. You're nervous because you can't come up with a lie right now and that's fine. However, don't expect me to listen to you if you can't come up with a lie. Get back to work."

Danny grumbled before leaving Miguel's office, slamming the door behind him.

"Slamming doors como si paga por algo-" he paused and shuddered. "Oh God, I sound like my mother." (like of you pay for something-) Miguel shook his head and fixed his blazer before going to type on his computer before his phone rang. A small smile formed on his lips when he saw your name pop up on the screen, but he didn't answer it until the third ring.

"I thought you gave me a fake number there for a second." You let out a sigh, making Miguel let out a shy chuckle, fidgeting with his pen as he tried to tell himself to relax from how hard his heart was thumping in his chest with nerves.

"Nope. Right number." He says, leaning back into his chair again as he heard you put the phone down.

"Good! Okay, I had a weird question to ask you." You say, everything around you sounding much louder which he automatically connected it to you putting the phone on speaker.

"Ask away." He reaches over and grabs his glass of water with a trembling hand from his nerves.

"Why did you need to know about interior designers and such?"

Miguel smirks, thanking whoever that it was a phone call and not in person communication or a video call. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"Of course it is."

He heard you huff out a breath and he couldn't help but bite his bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

There had to be flaws somewhere in you...right? I mean, he only saw perfection-

'No. Stop it, Miguel. Not yet. Don't fall just yet.'

"Well, I'll let you go. I have a cake to work on."

Before he could get a word in, you hung up.

Miguel put his phone down and let out a chuckle. He rests his elbow on the arm rest of his desk chair, his chin resting on his palm as he let his mind wander a bit.

Where did his mind wander to exactly?

To you.

He wondered if your hands were rough or surprisingly soft. He wondered where you learned to bake. Was it taught to you by a parent or guardian? Did you learn from recipe books? YouTube videos? I mean, he had to thank someone for your talent. Shit, he wouldn't be surprised if you were self taught.

He shook his head before a soft knock was heard from his office door. He looked up and immediately regretted it when he saw the look of shock and anxiousness on Lyla's face.

"They're here for the meeting, Mr. O'Hara."

He got up and buttoned his blazer before following Lyla out of his office and into the conference room. He knew Lyla well enough that when she said his last name, it wasn't Alchemax business.

-----

You raise a brow at the man in front of you who was asking for a gender reveal cake.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?"

"I want a gender reveal cake, but instead of the usual pink and blue and you do black?"

You blink at him.

"Black and...?"

"Just black."

"Do you want the frosting black?"

"No. I want the cake to be black."

"Sir, that's not how a gender reveal cake works. If you want, I can do black and whi-"

"No, I want black."

"What's the gender?"

"Boy."

"Okay. So you want everything to be black?"

He nods.

"What flavor?"

"Vanilla."

You stood there for a bit, screaming internally as you head to the back to take out a vanilla cake you just made. You quickly made black frosting with food coloring before decorating the cake. When you triple checked that it was perfect, you showed it to the customer.

"You made sure it was blue on the inside, right?"

You wanted to throw it at the customer.

"Sir, you told me you didn't want to do pink or blue, you wanted black."

"Yeah. The frosting."

You clenched your teeth before forcing a smile.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, I need it within the next two hours or so."

"Come again?"

He gave you a nod before stepping out of the bakery.

"Customers piss me off sometimes." You murmur.

"Do they? I'm sorry to hear that."

Your eyes widen before they meet a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"Hey darlin'. Hope I'm not interrupting anythin' important." Patrick says softly, giving his charming country boy smile that made you relax.

~~~~

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfictions @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess @diannana @itsameclinicaldepresssion @hwasoup @migueloharasbbm @vkumi

[pinksepia]

silly little fairy

[telekinesis-mind-control-comics]