#spiderman 2099 headcanons

[xspiderxx]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒. 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

paring: fem!reader x miguel o'hara

summary: just how would be a friends with benefits relationship with miguel.

warnings: Miguel out of character maybe? nsfw, not established relationship, unprotected sex, jealousy, i'm being self indulgent.

❊ it starts one night after having some drinks with friends. He was taking you home, when you two started to talk about how horny the alcohol makes you both

❊ which leads to you inviting him in just to have some coffee to sober up, but it's just an excuse, because you didn´t drink that much, just enough to find the courage to do what you both have been wishing for so long

“are we really doing this?” you moan while he kisses your neck, trailing kisses down your body.

“do you want me to stop?” he asks, stopping what he's doing, looking into your eyes.

“no, keep going. Keep going” you beg, spreading your legs, allowing him to kiss your clothed pussy.

❊ it was suposse to be a one time thing, but it ends being an anytime thing. Any of you calling or sending a message with something as simple as “wanna come over?” or “can I see u?

❊ the first few times were great. After hooking up you used to leave, and that was all. Until one night, it was a long day for Miguel, and he just fell asleep after one of your sessions

you are trying to recover from your climax when he starts to cum, shooting his seed inside you with a raspy groan.

“mierda” he mutters against your neck, still inside you, trying to catch his breath “you have no idea how much I needed that, cariño” he pulls out slowly, collapsing on the bed next to you “can I sleep here just for tonight? estoy realmente cansado”

“yeah” you say, not sure if he heard you before falling asleep

the morning after, you wake up with Miguel still sleeping, with his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he can

❊ after that everything feels more intimate, crossing the “just sex" line

❊ and of course, your friends are not blind. They see the stolen glances, the holding hands under the table, all those "accidental" touches

“we're just friends” you say, rolling your eyes, taking his hand off your thigh.

And for some reason, he hates how hearing that makes him feel.

❊ I think that he would be the first one to catch feelings, so he is the first one to be jealous

“wait, are you jealous?” you smirk, placing a hand on his chest.

“what? no. why would I be jealous?” he mutters, walking away from you

❊ but at the end of the day, neither of you are willing to make the next move because you're too scared of screwing things up.

“we're just friends, right?” you whine and he almost laughs at the scenario. At how funny it's the question while he has his dick buried deep inside your cunt.

“yeah, just friends, preciosa” he hisses, rocking his hips against yours.

[heroinnne]

the first time miguel met you, he was on patrol.

he saved you from a falling building that you were standing under with a dumbfounded expression on and unmoving — he managed to get you to safety but as soon as you were far away from danger, he was scolding you, telling you something about how you should get your damn legs moving when there’s rubble falling from above.

you had apologized at the time with a shaky voice, telling him how much you panicked that you froze — he only scoffed in response, mumbling about how you should be more careful before swinging away.

of course, at the time you only knew him as the snarky and rude spiderman of nueva york.

the second time miguel met you was on the sidewalk while he was heading for his job.

it was a nice morning, a soft breeze rippled his clothes and the sun kissed his skin warmly, he figured he'd stop for a coffee and that it wouldn’t hurt if he walked the way to the office, right?

before he knew it, your body was colliding with his and his coffee spilled to the ground ( thankfully not on his shirt, though ) he muttered a few curses in spanish, staring at the crumpled cup that used to be his drink, now spilled on the ground — it wasn’t until he registered the panicked apologies that he realized it was you.

the same civilian he saved a few days ago.

you looked out of place, in a rush with a white blouse that was half tucked into your black pants, your hair a bit of a mess as if you had just gotten out of bed.

you looked like you were late to work, and in your hurried steps, you had accidentally bumped into a stranger.

miguel told you that it was fine and you shouldn't worry about his coffee in a rather passive aggressive tone but that didn’t cut your apologies short and instead you offered to buy him another coffee and when he refused, you dragged him to the nearest coffeehouse anyway and insisted that you’d buy him another drink in compensation for the one you made him spill.

miguel figured he couldn’t refuse you at that point, you seemed rather insistent and stubborn, so he gave in to your offer and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have his spilled coffee replaced.

despite having his morning ruined by bumping into someone, you out of all people —  he’d say his day went great actually.

the third time miguel met you was at a work party.

he thought the voice he heard talking to another coworker sounded all too familiar, so when he turned around to see who it was, surely enough it was you, in a pretty little panel skirt red dress — your hair and make up done almost too well, and you didn't look hurried or panicked like the last two times he had seen you, rather, you looked relaxed, confident even, a soft smile on your painted red lips, and sparkling eyes as you spoke to your colleague.

miguel's mouth was practically agape as he drank the sight of you in — how come you were so pretty?

well, you were always pretty, he thinks, it was just amplified now.

especially with the way that dress fitted your body so good — miguel wondered how he has never seen you at the office before.

miguel’s feet had a mind of their own because moments later he found himself walking over to you, drink in hand and offering it to you.

your eyes widened with recognition and you were immediately stumbling over your words, realizing he was the man you bumped into a week ago and spilled his coffee, but most importantly, the big bad scary boss of alchemax that you were meeting for the very first time, and he was offering you a drink.

you accepted it, of course.

two drinks later and you may have gotten too tipsy that you started telling him about how spiderman saved you one time, held you and scolded you. miguel could only laugh in response, because unbeknownst to you, they were the same person.

but then you started ranting about how you had the fattest crush on him and miguel almost choked on his drink — he knew if you were sober, you would've probably nqever said that out loud.

instead, he humored you, listened to you rant about the superhero and how attracted you were to him with an amused smile on his face — the first smile miguel had ever worn at the office.

of course, all of the other employees were stunned at how their boss seemed so relaxed and maybe even amused for the first time — considering how much he hated office parties, and the office in general.

several drinks later and at the end of the night, miguel was walking you out of the office building because you were too drunk not to trip over your own feet, he asked you if you had a ride home which you responded to with a slurred 'no'.

miguel decided, since he was a superhero, he’d save you just one more time and drive you home, to safety, just without the mask this time.

midway through the drive home, you started rambling on again, this time about how you thought miguel himself was attractive, he let out a surprised laugh, it sounded a bit choked before he decided to tease you and ask you why you thought he was attractive.

you shrugged, your cheeks flushed form the alcohol and eyes half lidded before you murmured, "you remind me of spiderman."

he only chuckled a bit in response to that, and decided to not push it any further so you wouldn't somehow uncover his secret identity in your drunken state.

fifteen minutes later and he was parked under your apartment building, at least the one you pointed at, he asked you if you could get up to your apartment on your own to which you gave him a sheepish smile and shook your head.

he decided that it wouldn't hurt if he helped you to your doorstep.

surely enough, it was a struggle to get you out of the car, your legs shook and you leaned all your weight on him, mumble out incoherent 'sorry's and 'excuse me's.

miguel held you against him, an entertained smile on his face — it's then end of the night, your make up has worn out a bit and your hair was gathered intona ponytail to keep it out of your face — and even though you looked dazed from the one too many drinks you had, miguel though you still looked pretty, too pretty.

he got you into the elevator and you pressed the key to your floor  toy leaned on him for support, letting out a soft hiccup once in a while — "i'm not…always like this, i swear." you said in a quiet mumble, your words a quiet mumble. miguel laughed, shaking his head at you, "it's fine."

once you reached your floor, miguel helped you find your keys in your purse to open the door to your apartment — you managed so successfully, "I'm sure you'll be okay from here on out, yeah?" miguel asked, a hand on your back to support you still.

you nodded, turning to face him — a moment of silence passed with you just staring at him, before you leaned over to him, standing on your tippy toes and pressing your body against his, your lips touched his in a soft peck — though it was enough for him to get a taste of you, a whiff of your sweet perfume , and it was a little too much for him to process, the feel of your body against his, the softness of your lips fitted with his, and his heart was doing cartwheels.

you pulled away, gazing up at him, before softly murmuring "you're so pretty."

and then you smiled, walking into you apartment and shutting the door behind you, leaving miguel stunned and with the taste of you lingering on his lips.

fuck, you were too pretty.

[cherryredstars]

Hear me out. Scenario or headcanons or oneshot with Miguel'oHara x Spider!taller!Reader like at least head taller than him with relationship dynamic kind of going from to "„This is ridiculous.“ I love my big wife but won't admit it" And she's like "„Heh. What a cute little, grumpy cat.“ I want that one and I'm gonna fuck him till he faint" Yeah...there's so many possibilities with this...some SFW cute one like forehead/face kisses, cuddle him from behind and resting her chin on his head, holding things over her head to tease him...NSFW like heat, pheromones, pollen, Miguel having major size kink desperately training to be bigger than his partner only to fail even though he's still will be trying, a cute one where she wants to spoil his little partner for being a good boy

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Tall Spidey fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Based on Male and Female Spider Behaviors, Labeled NSFW, 18+

Summary: Miguel with a girlfriend/wife that’s taller than him.

Word Count: 1K (Barely Edited)

SFW

First time he met you, it was instant dislike. He was used to being the tallest (humanoid) spiderman in HQ. So when you walked through that portal staring down at him, he was immediately intimidated. Miguel knows, biologically, female spiders are meant to be larger than male spiders. But, he never saw the dynamic in the various spidermen until now. That hot feeling in his chest was most definitely hatred for you, not a primal urge caused by his spider DNA. 

The first few months, he tries to ignore you. It’s a hard task, especially since your looming stature makes it very hard to not resist the urge to look up. But whenever you’re around, his body doesn’t hesitate to try to seem bigger. His body goes into a wide stance and his chest puffs up. He isn’t exactly sure if he’s trying to establish dominance or trying to attract your attention. 

His ‘hatred’ starts to turn to admiration as the both of you work together on missions. He’s instantly impressed with your skill and your size comes in handy on multiple occasions. Once the two of you start dating, he goes around bragging about your skill. 

You’re used to people being very short in comparison to you, so meeting Miguel is refreshing. While he is shorter than you, he’s still tall. It makes you feel better about your height seeing another person who looms over everyone else.

You’re constantly grabbing his face and squishing his cheeks. You love cooing down at him about how cute he is. He’s at the perfect height to do it and you love the flustered look that crosses his face as he glares up at you. He always shoos your hands off his face, but you both know he loves the attention. 

He especially gets embarrassed when he’s briefing a group or talking to another spiderman and you come up besides him. You never hesitate to rest your elbow on top of his head or ruffle his hair. The recruit’s attention instantly moves away from Miguel to marvel at you and your height. Once Miguel is done talking to them, he’ll turn to you with the cutest little pout mumbling about how you’re ruining his intimidating reputation when you treat him like a small child. He instantly shuts up when you kiss him better.

Miguel can’t hide anything from you. If he’s watching or looking at something on the monitors, you always rest your head on top of his or bend down to place your chin on his shoulder, looking down at what he’s working on. He doesn’t particularly mind it, liking your closeness. 

No matter what position the both of you cuddle him, your body always engulfs Miguel’s. He always throws a mini fit about it, but he does find peace and comfort in it. He likes having you all over him and the feeling of care that washes over him. 

You like to hide things in places only you can see or reach. Things are always placed on top of beams in Miguel’s office, a smirk covering your face when he asks you to get them down because he can’t reach them and his webs can’t grab it at the angle you placed it. 

You’re always trying to balance things on Miguel’s head when you’re bored. If he’s randomly in his office working, you’re standing behind him seeing how many little trinkets you can balance on his head before he moves and they fall off. He always gives you a bored look with a raised eyebrow, but he always takes the time to ask you the results of your little experiment. He won’t help picking them up, though. You bending down to clean up your mess is the only time he’s taller than you. 

You like trying to scare him. His lack of spider sense makes it a fun game. You like sticking in dark corners, watching Miguel’s paranoid figure as he looks around, smelling your scent or hearing your breathing but not seeing you. When you drop down, he always flinches back and walks away muttering Spanish curses under his breath. You always follow him, laughing out apologies. 

You love taking care of him. Him being smaller just gives you the urge to mother and protect him. You’re always fixing his hair and making sure he has all the food and coffee he needs throughout the day. 

NSFW

Miguel loves spider mating season. You always let out amazing smelling pheromones that make his head dizzy and his mouth water. His height makes his face eye to eye with your neck, inviting him to bury his head into the crook of your neck and smell your delicious scent. He doesn’t mind licking or sucking the skin either when he’s fucking into you, desperate for his seed to fill you up with a baby. 

You always have the urge to bite Miguel during sex. You think it’s because of the usual larger female spider instants, but neither of you mind. You’re biting his shoulders, neck, just any piece of skin you can reach as he ruts into you and you come undone. 

You love riding him and topping. Bonus points if you decide to pin him down with your webbing. You’re always moaning down at him about how small he looks under you while he tries to fight against the webbing to try to gain control. 

Drives Miguel slightly wild that 69ing is a bit of a difficult task when you guys do it. The proportions aren’t the easiest to get around, but it makes him try that much harder to try to eat you out when he can barely reach your pussy.

You love torturing Miguel. You always tease him until he’s growling and begging you to let him fuck into your soaking cunt or you’re overstimulating him to the point where he’s trying to crawl away from your touch. 

It’s always a battle of dominance when you two are having sex. Miguel is trying to overpower you with his strength and get you to submit to him so he can fuck you hard. On the other hand, you’re trying to use your height to your advantage and make him beg for you to give him a break. 

Mutual aftercare for sure. The both of you want to take care of each other afterwards, leading to you guys taking turns bathing each other, massaging sore muscles, and tending to any needs.

Can you tell I was struggling with this one :((. My mind was blank the whole time. I blame it on school starting the day after I wrote this!!

[salsakiyoomi]

you were a villain.

miguel should've put you in cuffs the first time he caught you, you were cunning and a trickster and you were causing too much trouble.

but god, everytime he caught you, you slipped right through his fingers — and it didn't help that you kissed him one time.

he wasn't sure how it happened, but your wrists were restrained infront of you by his hands, and you were trying to wiggle your way out of his tough grasp and he remembers tightening his grip even more — before suddenly, your mouth was on his and all he could process was the taste of the cherry lip balm on your lips and how soft they were and then without realizing it, his grip on you was loosening and you were kicking him in the crotch before running off.

yeah, not his brightest moment — letting a villain kiss him and then letting her get away.

but he couldn't help it, he didn't know why but god you were so intoxicating, like a drug he got addicted to ever since that moment, the way your lips moved against his, how good you tasted, the strong scent of your perfume that he could recognize anywhere and he just couldn't bring himself to put you in cuffs.

also, he may have let you get away a couple of more times after that.

he thinks he's smooth enough that it comes off as that you just got away from him — after all, you were cunning, and you were good enough to trick even miguel o'hara himself.

this night is different though, he's out on patrol, searching the dark alleys of the city, the places where he'd usually sniff out thugs and gangs, but not that they're common anymore, not every since you've been terrorizing them, driving them out of their areas.

miguel stops in the middle of the alley, it's dark, with the only light provided from the moon barely peaking above the buildings.

"i know you're here."

he calls out, hands on his waist as if waiting impatiently.

a moment passes, and then a sigh is heard, his head turns around to his left side where you drop down from a fire escape case.

you take a few steps out of the building's shadow, the moonlight barely illuminating your face, and he can make out your familiar features, and god damn that smirk on your face.

"how come do you always know when i'm around?" you ask with a tilt of your head, you're eyeing him with your arms crossed and your chin held high and the unmistakable curve of your lips taunts him.

he grunts, rolling his eyes, "call it instinct."

"instinct, huh?" you muse, your lips formed in a small pout, almost as if you're in thought, miguel knows you're mocking him though, he can see it in the glimmer of your eyes.

"where have you been these past three days?" he asks, his voice rough as usual as he takes a step closer to you, he's maybe a meter or two away from you, but your strong perfume is already engulfing all of his senses, "you haven't been causing trouble much as usual."

you shrug, "sorry, i don't always have the time to commit crime."

miguel tenses — his thoughts come flooding in again, his rational thoughts, the ones that tell him how he should put you behind bars, take the advantage that you're unarmed right now, the ones that ask how he could feel so relaxed around you even though you're the enemy, relaxed so much so his mask is off.

"why are you here now?" he asks, his arms crossed as he stares you down.

"i know you patrol these alleys." you say nonchalantly, stating the obvious.

"so?"

"so? so what? are you dumb or something?" you roll your eyes, scoffing a laugh, muttering a 'jeez, what a dense head' under your breath.

miguel scowls, "the hell's wrong with you?"

"the hell's wrong with me? the hell's wrong with you?" you shoot back at him, "i came to see you, duh."

miguel deadpans at you, he looks very unamused as if you've just told a bad joke, "is this another one of your tricks?"

you snort, "how low do you think of me?"

"very low."

"that's a shame," you mumble, taking a step closer to him, that smirk still on your face, oh the one that makes his heart flutter a bit even though he denies it to himself, "you know, they say you should never assume."

your voice is barely above a whisper, and you're standing close to him, too close if anything, and he's silent, unsure of what to say and deciding to see what happens next.

"you really should've put me in cuffs the first time you caught me, spiderman." you mumble and before he knows it, your lips are against his once more and he's thinking, yeah, i really should've.

but god, you're intoxicating and your lips taste so good like cherry lip balm, and all he could process is the strong scent of your perfume, and the way your body is pressed up slightly against his and then, he's kissing you back.

he's kissing you back, savouring the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin against his, letting the moment linger between the two of you, and god this is the second time, and it feels like he can't stop, he doesn't know if he ever will, he knows he'll want to have it one more time after it ends, he knows he'll always come back to you, he knows he'll always let you get away because you're like a drug and he just got addicted to you, like he hasn't always been addicted to you, to your teasing and your mocking grins and your cunning voice, and he's knows it's no good for him — you are no good for him, but he still kisses you back.

you pull away, your hot breath fans his lips and you're staring up at his eyes through your lashes, and a smile creeps up on your face, "aren't you hopeless."

you chuckle, pulling away from him and taking a few steps back, "well that was nice, maybe one day you'll tell me your actual name, spiderman." you say with a grin, "oh, and next time, don't bring expensive watches on patrols."

you hold up his dimension travelling watch that you had managed to slip off of him while he was too busy savouring the taste of you — you laugh, slipping it in your pocket before you disappear into the darkness of the alley.

and miguel let's you get away.

he knows he'll find you again, and he'll get it back, god knows what will happen the next time he meets you anyway, but he can't stop thinking about how good your mouth fit against his.

yeah, you really are no good for him.

[sentienttomb]

More Miguel brain rot you say?? Idk bout y’all but I definitely see him working in an office space with you… I also don’t know how to do intros properly

Coworker!Miguel who didn’t pay any attention when your boss first introduced you to the team as the new secretary. The office was small but he never bothered with previous secretaries since they always came and went.

Coworker!Miguel who notices over time his office has a view straight towards the front desk. Has your hair always looked this pretty under the dreadful beating of the fluorescent lights?

Coworker!Miguel finds any excuse to refill a disposable cup at the water cooler… stationed right next to the office’s entrance. For the first few weeks there’s just a quiet, barely audible “Hi” exchanged between the both of you.

Coworker!Miguel who ditches his addiction to coffee just so he can fill up on water most workdays. Taking advantage of every chance to have small talk with you.

Coworker!Miguel who one day asks “Do you mind?” in the break room as he pulls out his own lunch. His large hand, accentuated by the classic wristwatch, pulling out the chair beside you as he takes a seat.

Coworker!Miguel who asks you about your life outside of work as you both enjoy your break together. His heart thumping loudly inside his chest as you detail the small intricacies of your life, your hobbies, your career aspirations. With you… he doesn’t hate small talk.

Coworker!Miguel reaching over you at the shelf full of office supplies. Easily towering over you, his chest mere inches away from your back as he grabs the box of paperclips sat high on a shelf. Heat radiating off his body in claustrophobic waves.

Coworker!Miguel who no matter how many times he catches you eyeing him from your own desk is petrified of asking you out. It’s not like he has a chance with a woman as beautiful as you.

Not Proofread

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

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

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

_

edit: the full fic xx

[oscorp-lawsuit]

Headcanon that all spider people get what’s called the “Spider-Zoomies” (which is a sudden burst of energy but it’s expressed through Spider-like behavior) except for Miguel because he didn’t get bitten, so every time he makes the mistake of going to HQ in the middle of the night, he gets jump scared by at least one Spider-Man:

Scuttling across the ceiling (Pavitr)

Hissing into the void (Miles)

Bench pressing a building (Peter B)

Jumping fifty feet into the air without warning (Margo)

Building some intricate contraption in complete darkness (Hobie, emphasis on trap)

Running extremely fast without making a sound so you don’t know they’re there until it’s too late (wtf Mayday)

Or crouching into a corner, completely still like a predator watching its prey, and the moment he gets close to them, they whisper “Hey” making him scream so loud that he throws his empanadas in their face (Gwen)

It’s essentially like you’re walking through a building full of eldritch horrors, and you don’t know where any of them are, but they all know exactly where you are, and they win bonus points if they scare the shit out of you. Miguel hates it here.

[demigoddessqueens]

soft headcanons

Based off these concept art expressions that the crew posted on Twitter

a soft Miguel is a rarity but you would know firsthand how he can get. Despite all his bark and bite, Miguel can also be pain-stakingly quiet and apprehensively seeks you out sometimes

ABSOLUTELY pouts and broods, so much so that when you look at him with a concerned expression (“are you ok?”), he feels guilty for worrying you

It’s the self-loathing that can eat away at him, thinking a good thing is going to slip away fast from him

a WHINY cuddler who lays on top on you, likes to bury his head into/under you neck. Also play with his hair!

Is the EPITOME of the touch-starved cheetah meme

he knows the size difference between you two (if there is one), which makes him feel protective as well towards you

If you’re a fellow comrade, he feels a bit of relief because you’re still within reach of him

EDIT: if Miguel ever has nightmares, he talks in his sleep and even gasping awake makes you wake up as well. Don’t blame him though, he’ll hide his face in your neck in the most bone-crushing hug, and only then it dawns on you what happened when your shoulder feels wet

also likes to stay close to you a bunch of times, nickname “Shadow” that he groans at when you say it

[0booboozefool0]

This might be the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever drawn

[xspiderxx]

𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎...

paring: miguel o'hara x spider!reader

summary: just some random headcanons that were around my head

warnings: fem!reader?, smut but nothing too explicit i guess

miguel who asks you to join the league after the first time he sees you fighting, so agile and smart

miguel who stays late at your dimension, spending time together and fighting villans

miguel who tries to hide a big smile everytime you bring him an empanada from the cafeteria

miguel who takes you with him on every mission just because he can't be away from you for so long

miguel who gets flustered when Lyla tells you exactly how many times he asks her for your location and if it's everything okey

miguel who can't understand why he feels so jealous whenever he sees you talking and laughing with other spidermen

miguel who loves the size difference between you. how small you look compared to him, with his broad shoulders, wandering how easy would be to pick you up and pin you against the wall

miguel who fists his hard cock in the middle of the night, thinking about you and that time when you ended on top of him by accident, with your breasts pressing against his chest

miguel who can't control himself anymore, kissing you so desperately, making you moan and whimper into his mouth

miguel who doesn't care if somenone caughs you in the middle of a quicky at the headquarter, he is so eager for moment of lust and bliss with you that he doesn't care anymore

[0800-her]

He tried soo hard to be gentle, he really did. the whole night he made sure you were wet enough so he could slip in easily. he fingered you, made sure to stretch you open properly, talking you through it the whole time. when he finally bottomed out inside you, you hissed in pain shoving your head into a pillow to muffle your cries. "sweetheart? you ok? your feeling a little tense sweets," you mentally rolled your eyes. "Oh really? nah it's not like your digging in my guts or anything cos i can FKN feel it." Being a brat never got you anywhere. that's why the next morning you had to call in "sick" from work because you could hardly feel the bottom half of your body.

[cherryredstars]

helloo, i hope u doing good and thank u for your content <3

ok so i gotta question: do you think, in the crushing phase, Miguel would just go with the flow or be in denial with his feelings?

i personally think its the second one, i just feel like he has so much trauma and fear of getting attached again, but to be honest I don't know how he would go past that part 😭😭 i just don't know how that tension would disappear, do you have an idea how it would go?

thank you for everything and have a good day <33

I think Miguel wouldn't even realize he liked someone until a friend or colleague teasingly comments or makes a joke about him possibly liking them. After that, he would go into an internal panic because up to this point he just thought he was being his regular controlling and perfectionist-self when he would constantly bother them. He would 100% start to distance himself and if he thought there was any way they liked him back, he would try to be a little more closed off and possibly meaner to them to try to get them to stop liking him. He'd basically self-sabotage any chances he has with them.

If he were to talk to and rant about his feelings for his crush to LYLA or someone else, they'd try to convince him that he deserves that bit of happiness and encourage him to go for it! He most likely would NOT take that advice and there would just be growing tension between Miguel and his crush. Maybe after a bit, if his feelings haven't gone away, he'll start to get annoyed with himself and just snap and tell his crush about his feelings but makes sure to emphasize that he DOES NOT want to pursue anything and just wants to get whatever this is out of his system and off his chest.

If his crush respects his wishes and doesn't try to get him to accept his feelings and give them a chance, then Miguel will lose feelings after a month or two and everything will be back to normal. But if his crush decides to break him down, there is a possibility he'll give them a chance and hope for the best!

Omg, this is so long I'm so sorry!! But hello I'm doing well!! I recognize your tag because you're in my notifications so much LOL!! Thank you for loving my content♡. I hope you have an amazing day!!

[salsakiyoomi]

Hiyo! congrats on the 1k followers!!

I'm usually a lurker and more active on twt but Ive been easing back into tumblr again to post fandom stuff, theres a niche corner on tumblr where I got comfy in and I happens to find/followed you there! I hope I'll be seeing ur posts around! I want to throw a hat in this event for fun! Thanks for the oppertunity!!

Fandom: Spiderverse/JJK Name: Gato ヾ(•ω•`) About myself: I'm a 5'2/ 160cm, Taurus/Capricorn rising, 24yo bi INTJ-T I'm 88% introverted and I work from home so I don't usually see the sun unless it breaks into my house. I love natural documentary videos and random analyzes videos on yt if they last more than 2 hours (play in bg while I'm working) My taste in music is whatever yt auto play next, I'll listen to J-Rock, Kpop, indie to folk but I will also work in complete silence for 8 hours straight if i forgot to put on anything. ( the grind dont stop )

I'm pretty easy going and I definitely know what I'm doing @ work, I love to show people the rope if needed. Anything kind of socialize outside my job, I'll run out of wits. I've never flirt my entire life and I won't start now ( I might be aroace but its debatable lol)

Ideal type: My type of guy and gal is definitely the no-nonsense one who tell me straight up what they want. I can't say I'll give them the same treatment tho I'm not always honest with myself :))) but I'm deeply devoted and I don't do anything half way.

It's very difficult for me not to challenge any kind of authority figure on sign, I'm allergic to condescending people. Still I find assertive people very……..hot!! (please pair me up with one, itll be so funny)

Season: whenever it rain! Summer, late autumn Favorite trope: Shared room! team up! Hurt/Comfort, maybe a truce? or 'we both stuck between a rock and each other and we might not get out alive'

HONEYMOON MATCHUP WITH : MIGUEL O'HARA

— honeymoon :

– miguel was an asshole, a certified one at that — your first day at hq wasn't very thrilling with him throwing you nasty looks left and right, the worst part is, he didn't actually say anything rude or mean to you, but he wasn't all that friendly either, so when you came up to him with a scowl on your face and demanding that he tells you why he keeps looking at you like you just spilled the milk over, he simply looked you up and down and said something along the lines of 'just get back to work' not really offering much context or explanation before leaving you to head back to his 'office' and from that day on, you were sworn enemies — you couldn't stand his authority figure persona and he couldn't stand your stubborn self because you never abided by his rules, so everyday was to you was a back and forth argument with him, and it didn't help that you'd get paired up with him for alot of missions — talk about bad luck.

– slowly but surely, the two of you eased up to eachother, yeah it took like nine months but it worked out — your arguments started to turn from actual heated conversations to more of a fun back and forth bickering — miguel would deny it any moment you or anyone would ask him about it, say something about how he thinks it's annoying but the small grin on his face when he talks to you doesn't go unnoticed, no matter how much he tries to hide it — yeah, he's a tough shell, closed off and repulsive but he isn't all that bad after all, at least that how you were starting to see him — like hey, he brought you empanadas from the cafeteria with him, he doesn't do that with anybody else.

– soon enough, it's been a year and a half since miguel has known you — you still don't really know him that much but you settled for a truce and you warmed up to eachother. the day came where your walls were broken down and the rain was pouring over your head, seemingly amplifying your bad mood because it felt like such a cliche for it to heavy pour on the day you felt at your worst — but you were soon shielded from the icy cold droplets when an umbrella came over your head, and surely enough it was miguel who was holding it, he threw you a glance, his face the usual blank expression he worse but his eyes were soft, he mumbled something about 'don't want you catching a cold, you have a mission tomorrow' and the rest of the walk to your place was in silence, not the heavy kind, miguel wasn't a talker after all, but you appreciated his presence — no matter how silent it was, it was still comforting.

what's on the radio : art deco, lana del rey

a/n : had to pair your up with miguel after you said you didn't like authority figures 😭 i like a good enemies to lovers — although it's more like office drama but whatever — THE NAME GATO IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT SHSJWJSK, and yes so true the grind don't stop 💪💪 must keep going no matter what's the circumstances are ✊✊ i love miguel sm too also look at the way he's lowkey pouting in the second pic he literally looks >:c ahhhwhee i wanna play with his cheeks 😭 tysm for the request gato, hope this did you justice i also really love your blog <33

[lacedinweb22]

Miguel babies you when you’re sick ⁺‧₊˚ boyfriend headcanons Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader  

nsfw 18+ towards end

⊹ At the first sign of a cold, he’s on it, forcing you to stay on the couch, drink water, and take zinc supplements every three hours. You tell him to stay away, but he insists that his immune system will fight it off, which always proves true. He wraps you up in blankets and cuddles you. 

⊹ You’ll dig your face in his neck, groaning and complaining about the aches you feel all over, while he massages your neck dipping his fingertips up into your hair, massaging your neck, then tracing down to your back. His hands are so strong, he effortlessly gives you the best massages of your life. He whispers into your hair, “Sana sana colita de rana. Dame un besito para hoy y mañana” (Heal heal little frog's tail. Give me a little kiss for today and tomorrow).

⊹ He’ll make you soup, bringing it to you in a mug so you can sip on it as he wraps you up in his arms while you watch your favorite comedy together. He’ll give you endless kisses on your head as he holds you. 

⊹ As you’re curled up against his chest, kissing his neck gently, he’ll massage your thighs, which eventually progresses to his face in between your thighs as he wants so desperately to make you feel good when you feel so shitty. 

⊹ He’ll drink you up. He’ll place gentle kisses around your heat, before going straight to town, lapping at your core as you arch your back against the blankets under you, moaning and whining from the pleasure, the much-needed release of tension from your body. As he sucks gently on your sensitive bud, his hands explore your thighs then go up under your t-shirt and onto your belly, as he squeezes, and massages your warm flesh. His fingers massage your lower belly, making you more sensitive, bringing you your orgasm, the first of many. 

⊹ He runs you a hot shower and joins you, carefully lathering soap all over you, his big hands massaging your aching body. He sits down on the ledge, rubbing soap onto your thighs, hips, and stomach, then tracing his big hands up to your breasts, gently massaging as he looks up at you lovingly. He gets back up and urges you to turn around so he can rinse the soap from your hair. He gently combs his lengthy fingers through your locks then moves your hair, giving himself access to your neck, kissing and sucking gently on wet skin. “I’m sorry you’re sick, cariño,” he mutters into your neck. “Make me feel better,” you whisper back, pressing your ass against him. He does just that, turning you back around so he can kiss you, and press you up against the tile wall. He holds your thigh against his hip, opening you up, and thrusting up into you slowly, gently, providing endless kisses, endless words of encouragement, “Like that, baby. Does that feel good, princesa? Am I making you feel better?” he’ll whisper, brushing your wet hair from out of your face. Your nails dig into the back of his biceps, as you look up at him, head thrown back against the tile, moans and heavy breathing echoing through the steamy bathroom. His tip massages up into your g-spot, his slow strokes bringing the blissful ache in your stomach down to your thighs, as you begin to c*m around him, throbbing as he bottoms out into you, muttering cuss words as his lips brush against your forehead. 

⊹ After your shower, he'll massage vaporub onto your neck and chest, then help you put on your pajamas (one of his t-shirts and sweats), then he’ll give you some hardcore cold medicine, the kind that is quick to knock you out. He insists you get in bed, but you want to watch more of your show. So he’ll oblige and spoon you sideways on his big couch as you both watch TV, his hands running all over you, under your t-shirt, massaging you, feeling you, actively trying to find ways to make you feel better. He’s propped up on one elbow as you lay in front of him. He eventually sees you’ve succumbed to the medicine and so easily carries you to bed.

[angelltheninth]

One Inch at a Time

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time (with Miguel), size kink, cockwarming, gentle sex, nipple, cock riding, affirmation, porn without plot

Word count: 1k

Ao3

A/N: I think Miguel has a real gentle side to him when having sex cause of his size.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Miguel hissed as he watched you position yourself on top of him. Normally he would be on top but he figured since you commented on never having someone as big as him before it would be best to let you ride his cock at your own pace. He couldn’t stop his big hands from shaking as he grabbed hold of your hips, lifting you up, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and your slick dripping down on it and down his length, “Oh fuck.” His cock pulsed with need.

He couldn’t just bury himself inside of you, he needed to wait, for your sake.

“Miguel. What’s wrong? You said I could ride you.” He’d been fingering you and eating your pussy for the past hour or so, leaving it slobbering wet, “If I’m not wet enough now I don’t think I’ll ever be.” There was also his cock, with the head sticky with pre-cum, looking so tasty. You knew well how tasty he was, you spend many nights fucking your fingers and toys while he fucked your mouth, but now was finally your pussy’s turn.

Eagerness aside you knew he would be a lot for you to take, most your toys paled in comparison to his size and thickness. It was a little scary when you saw him for the first time but you sucked on his cock like your life depended on it and have only gotten better at it since.

One of your favorite ways to suck him off was while he was in his chair, your knees propped up on his shoulders and his hands holding your ass cheeks firmly, his tongue poking, licking and prodding at your pussy, your tongue vibrating against his cock from the mutual pleasure. You watched him fuck many if his toys from the videos you sent each other too, imagining it was your pussy instead. “Gonna fuck you just like this sweetheart, just like this.” Miguel would promise as he would unload into the toy, showing you how much flowed out after.

“I did say that, and you can ride me. I... don’t want to see you hurt yourself. I know I’m a lot and there no need to take all of me.” He was always mindful of his larger size in comparison to you. The fact that he could toss you around like a ragdoll, or use you like a fuckdoll in this case made him mind go places he was scared to bring you along for. “If I hurt you... I wouldn’t forgive myself. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.”

“And when have you denied me my pleasure, Miguel? Did I ever tell you I was unhappy with your performance? Were you with mine?” You teased as you tried to break free from his hands, only riling him up further.

“You know I’m happy. Promise me to go slow.” This felt like something you should be asking him, he’s the one with the massive cock. When you smiled and nodded, batting your lashes at him you felt his grip let up, not leave but ease a little. With a deep breath and an encouraging smile you stretched yourself around the tip, “You have no idea how much I want to go all in. I’ve been thinking about fucking that pussy for months now.”

Shit, you thought you could take him easier. Your dildos don’t do him justice at all, and after this you know for sure that they won’t. “I wanted your cock so many times Miguel, on so many nights. When I’d see you walk back I wanted to drop down and suck you off so bad. You drive me crazy, not having your cock drives me crazy.”

“How do you think I feel?” Miguel’s eyes roamed your body, taking in all the hickies he left so far, going all the way down to your clit, “With a body like that it’s a miracle you haven’t brought me to the brink of insanity yet. Every time I see you my cock gets hard, its impossible not to think about fucking you day and night. Although I don’t think your body can handle that.” He had such a smug aura about him as he gloated about his stamina. Cocky, for good reason too.

“You let me worry about what I can or can’t take okay? You stay hard for me hm?” Yeah, like you needed to tell him that, he had the opposite problem. “You... feel... so... good... inside... me.” With every word you sunk down a little more, your whimpering painful and a big distraction for Miguel.

“Stop if you can’t-”

“I can!” You persist, taking more before you have to stop, your pussy clamping down around his cock, your nails scratching down his abs, leaving marks you didn’t mean to leave. “S-Shit. Sorry. Let me try again.” You gave him a small smile, your body trembling above his.

Miguel bit his lip and tried to soothe you by massaging your thighs. His contact was reassuring, as was the warm way his eyes looked at you. Maybe you didn’t have to take him but you wanted to, more then anything you wanted to feel his cock fully sheathed inside you and... “Fuck! Oh my god... yes...! Finally where you belong.” You almost felt dizzy, orgasming as soon as he was inside, “N-Not yet.”

“Oh. Hey. Look at me.” You let tears of frustration run down your cheeks when he cupped your face, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m really, really proud of you okay? You’ve a good girl for me, taking me all the way like this.” Miguel beconed you closer for a sweet, comforting kiss, “Rest. My cock will stay hard for you when you’re ready to go again.”

No one had a boyfriend more understanding then you, in any universe. You snuggled against Miguel’s strong, soft chest, your walls pulsing and trembling around his cock, feeling little squirts of cum pumping inside of you but for all that Miguel didn’t move, he wasn’t tense but fully relaxed underneath you, his knees bent just a little as his hands explored your bare back, shushing an comforting you. You gave him your all, which is more then he ever dared to ask, he couldn’t be happier.

[noir3ky]

he can’t think straight. His bones are like goo, his body a mind of its own.

miguel’s shaking away the mist from his mind, which continues to cloud his judgment.

his hair, which is slick with sweat, drips onto his forehead, and onto his naked and gleaming pecks. It’s more ragged than how it’s usually styled.

each harsh thrust of his hips continues to bounce the loose curls, in tandem with the clap and recoil of your plump ass.

“fuck, tesoro.” the sight alone made the man behind you groan loudly, causing him to grip at your hips harder.

leaning down towards your backside, Miguel shoved his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet, tangy scent.

he continued to batter his way inside your fleshy, gummy walls. Almost as if trying to get his thick cock to impliment its shape into your quivering hole.

“miguel…” whimpering, you gripped at the sheets under you, pushing your hips back to meet with his thrusts to get him to hit deeper inside.

biting down on your neck, Miguel groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. His eyes almost rolling to the back of his head just from it.

he began to speed up his thrusting, planting his feet onto the bed and slamming his hips onto your ass harder.

pulling back to move his hair out of his face, Miguel looked down to see where you both were connected, letting out a slight whimper at the sight of your fat pussy lips gripping at his dick. not wanting to let go of him.

“mierda. I’m not letting you go until you’re full of my seed, ¿entiendes?” He doesn’t even let you answer, because he’s already going back to wrapping his lips around your neck and grabbing at plump body. His hands snake around your large tits and wide waist to keep you in place.

even if you’d repeatedly asked for a break, if your legs shook from your orgasms, if you blacked out; this man wouldn’t let you go. At least, not until you’d squirted a few times and had lost the ability to walk the next day.

(miguel would definitely have a plus sized lover. It’s just in our Mexican nature!)