hrhmimieucliffe - Tumblr blog

hrhmimieucliffe · 17 days

Text

📄 𝐈’𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Angst, post-break up, Miguel’s heartbroken, he really shouldn’t be though, sexual frustration, innuendos, soreness from sex, male masturbation, sexual flashbacks MINORS DNI🔞

𝐀/𝐍: Hey, hope you didn’t forget about me🥹 it’s been a while. I saw this fan art of Miggy in the shower after I wrote this and thought it was pretty fitting

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s been over a year since you split up, but unfortunately for Miguel, things are still taking a toll. Even after going your separate ways, you still have to see each other everyday. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Miguel’s turmoil is taking effect on his performance as Spiderman and his role as a leader. Having you work under him is proving to be harder than he originally thought, especially when you both are put in situations where you’re forced to be together.

Things were already hard enough after you and Miguel broke things off. But having to be your boss while not allowing his heartbreak to get in the way of leading a group of Spider People, including yourself, was modifying.

He didn’t realise how much the aftermath affected him until his recruits had noticed his performance was lacking.

His combat skills were becoming sloppy making him prone to more injury. It was frustrating how much he was letting this get to his head— he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

After the third trip to the Spider Medbay, it dawned on him that he had to accept things as they were now and move on. His job as a leader will be at risk otherwise.

Initially, he thought he was doing a decent job ignoring his pain. He was growing used to seeing you everyday without your affection, especially since he was accustomed to being alone before you got together.

But after the latest Spider meeting, Miguel was left with fresh salt on the wound.

As you sat down on your seat before he commenced the meeting, your face scrunched slightly from the ache between your legs.

An obvious sign that you’ve just been dicked down by your current flame recently. No one else in the board room had noticed but he definitely did.

And he hated himself for it.

If the situation were different, where you didn't feel any resentment towards him after he broke your heart, he wouldn’t pay any mind to it.

There was a time where he would’ve felt his ego soar after seeing you struggling to sit down like that — only because he knew it was him and his dick that was the cause of that. But now he was left with bitter pain and yearning.

Back then, he knew he could manhandle you if he wanted to. But he would never do anything that could affect your agility and performance as a crime fighter.

Albeit, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fuck you good enough so you would get drunk from his dick and he got to witness your mind going numb.

But now he had lost that privilege. He couldn’t see your worn out face anymore after he made you come.

The mere notion of another man touching you like that, let alone seeing you in that state, was enough to send him spiraling. Not that he would let you be aware of that.

This new guy wasn’t even aware of your double life as Spiderwoman. He wouldn’t be as cautious and mindful when fucking you like Miguel would.

It was one of the convenient things in your relationship— why you were perfect for each other. Until it wasn’t. He had to force himself to continue like this wasn’t tearing him apart inside.

Eventually the meeting came to a conclusion and everyone made their way to the cafeteria for their lunch break. Miguel, on the other hand, headed back to his office in solitary.

Every muscle in his body felt heavy and it felt like extra labour just to walk back to his office. He didn’t catch you following behind until you called out his name.

“Miguel,” he turned to see you walk up towards him.

As foolish as it was, for a fleeting moment he thought you were going to comfort him; put your hands on his shoulders and give him a massage or peppered his face with kisses when everyone had left, just like you used to.

The fantasy vanished just as quickly as it came when you spoke your mind.

“I think my watch needs calibrating, it’s acting up,” you told him, gesturing to your watch. Of course.

You would only approach him when you need something from him. That was how it had been, he shouldn’t expect anything more.

“Alright pass it over, I’ll give you a day pass in the meantime,” he said as he fished out a day pass for you to wear.

You removed your watch from your hand and passed it to him before taking the wrist band and putting it on.

Once it was secure, you turned your heels to leave. He felt his adrenaline spike as he watched you and out of impulse, he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Hey um,” He started, making you turn back around to look at him. Your eyes bore onto his, something he thought he’d never witness again after you split up. Except this time, there wasn’t any warmth in your gaze as there used to be; instead, there was nothing but a void.

Shit

The room suddenly felt like it was getting hotter. Or maybe that was the heat rushing to his cheeks out of sheer discomfort.

Either way he felt like his inner thoughts were written all over his face and you could read him. You probably could sense something was wrong but you weren’t going to comment on it.

He wouldn’t blame you…

Now you had your full attention on him, even if it was only brief. He had to make sure he played his card right and tread through this carefully.

“How’s everything?” He asked meekly. He tried to keep his composure as controlled as he could, keeping a tight lid on his raw emotions.

“Fine.” The word came out so curt, it didn’t even feel like a proper response.

It hurt his pride knowing another man could make you sore like he can, just the way you like it. On top of that, he was treating you better and was making you happy. Something that he couldn’t do.

You deserved a partner who would be there for you, support you and nurture that mutual love. Not just someone who was good in bed.

Unfortunately he was so drawn into his train of thoughts about your man, his mouth moved faster than his mind before he could even stop himself, initiating a word vomit.

“Is he treating you well,”

Shit shit shit…

Why did he bring him up? Now he probably looked pathetic. He could see you drift your gaze away after he asked that. Obviously the topic was pretty sensitive.

“Mhmm” you hummed in approval. You were clearly not comfortable with sharing more. Judging by how you responded, you had moved on and healed from the pain he had caused you.

He shouldn’t shit on your new man; he never even met the guy (other than watching the surveillance footage of your dimension while monitoring the Multiverse like he always did)

So he had no valid reason to hate on him if everything was going well with you.

And he knew you weren’t going to willingly share about your current relationship. You were a private person and he always valued that while you were both still together.

But now it was working against his favour. Despite being fully aware that your personal life wasn’t any of his business anymore, he was still desperate to know everything.

There was a sense of antipathy that was growing in his heart towards your new life without him in it. No matter how much he would lie to himself and deny it was there, it only heightened as more time passed.

The silence that was shared between the two of you was making it hard to breathe. It felt like all the oxygen in the room wasn’t enough to fill his lungs with the tranquility he needed.

You should get going, don’t want to hold you back any longer than I already have.

Eventually, Miguel gave a subtle nod before shifting his attention to your watch in his hand. He wanted to end the premature conversation before he said something he will regret.

The last thing he heard was your footsteps getting quieter as you left his office, leaving him in his own thoughts.

Miguel felt some of the tension leaving his body, like melted candle wax, as he took the first step into his apartment— his confinement safe space.

But despite being surrounded by the comfortable air in his home, his muscles were still aching. Today was more physically demanding than usual as he was on his feet all day, containing not just one but three anomalies, all in different dimensions.

Fatigue seeped into his bones. But it wasn’t just the physical tasks that drained him. His mind was constantly running with relentless questions, though there was one that struck him the most.

Could he manage to lead the Spider Society without being consumed by his emotional turmoil? More importantly, without being consumed by the reminders of his loss. Gabriella.

You.

It has been a year since you both split up and he’s still unable to break free from the haunting memories of his past. Thinking about your breakup was making him dizzy. The overhead lights in his apartment suddenly felt too bright and sickening.

“Lyla, could you dim the lights please?” He called out before he headed to the bathroom. The lights dimmed just as demanded.

“Lights are dimmed now, Miguel,” Lyla’s digital voice chirped. Miguel’s thoughts remained on you as he made his way towards the shower.

He couldn’t stop himself from recalling the last conversation you both just had back in HQ. It was brief but your reluctant body language was enough to speak volume.

Part of him wanted to know what was going through your head when he asked about your current relationship, even if it was just a slip up. But at the same time, after seeing the way your demeanor shifted when he asked, he would rather stay clueless about it.

He stepped into the shower and twisted the shower knob, adjusting the water to the right temperature. Steam was released into the air from the hot water, creating condensation on the cold tiles.

The hot spray from the shower ran over him as he allowed the water to rinse over his whole body. He sighed as he felt his muscles instantly unwind from the hot water but the warmth also seemed to amplify his solitude.

He rested one of his hands on the glass panel that was fogging up from the steam. The shower continued to spray over his back and his mind continued to wander.

As much as he tried to forget about today, he couldn’t stop thinking back to the Spider meeting from earlier and how you were struggling to sit without the obvious sourness between your legs. Seeing you in that state gave him erotic flashbacks that he didn’t want to recrystallise in his head, especially now.

Suddenly, a memory that he had tried so hard to bury deep in his core resurfaced in his head, blaring at him. The image of you bent over in his shower; your hands and your bare tits being pressed against the same glass panel he had his hands on right now, while he was thrusting you from behind.

He couldn’t shake off the memory no matter how hard he tried. The thoughts continued to run through his head and just like clockwork, he felt himself getting bricked up.

How pathetic. He let his unwanted memories get the best of him and now it was affecting the rest of his body.

His cock was twitching and he could feel the subtle throb of his pulse from the sensitive areas. His free hand reached to clasped around the length with his mind conflicted from his aching predicament.

As much as he knew how bad his situation was right now, he couldn’t stop himself from caving into his own desperation. Out of impulse, he started to stroke at a steady pace with that image of you stuck behind his eyelids.

This was wrong. So wrong. Thinking about you in such an elaborate manner while getting off to it, especially when he was aware that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. After everything he put you through…

But his head wasn’t thinking about any reasoning or morals anymore. At least no one could see the state he was in right now.

The grip from his hands could never replicate the sensation of your walls clenching around him— along with your wetness that would coat his dick.

He was drawn back to those memories of you in his shower again. You always used to take him so well, especially from behind. He would nuzzle his face into your neck while fucking you relentlessly.

The bathroom would be filled with the sounds of your pretty moans over the spray of the water that would echo over the tiles in the shower.

Each thrust would push you further against the glass panel. Your hands and tits would always be imprinted on the surface by the end of it, and every time he would be reluctant to wipe it away.

He increased the pace of his strokes just from recalling that memory, with his eyes bored onto the panel. His heart was pulsated in his chest as he was losing himself in the bliss of his own fantasies.

The memory of your breakup was now forgotten as he was reliving these memories. It was almost tangible, he could almost hear you moaning out fragments of his name in his mind. But it was probably just his auditory hallucinations.

He longed to feel you again, hearing you say his name just like you used to. Feeling your touch again would scratch the irritable itch that had always lingered. Even if he knew he’d never have you again, he still dreamt about you.

His climax was crawling up to him painstakingly slow. He recalled those moments where you would touch yourself afterwards, just to feel how much he had stuffed you with his cum.

The memory, along with the built up anger and longing, was enough for him to unravel and his orgasm came crashing down on him— it was almost overwhelming.

The evidence of his guilt spilled over his knuckles before getting washed away by the spray of the shower. But it wasn’t enough to erase what he just did.

The post-nut clarity disappeared once he realised what he got himself into and how far he fell into the rabbit hole of his own desires. It felt like every object in the bathroom just witnessed his own sin.

He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower before he wrapped a towel around his waist. Water was dripping from his hair and fell over his bare shoulders and back, but he paid no attention to it.

Everything that had just happened a few moments ago was sinking into him, and although he scrubbed himself clean from his own cum, there was still the unsettling awareness of his own mishap weighing on his shoulders.

It was making his stomach twist with nausea. Shame quickly settled over him, like a cloud hovering over his head. It continued to follow him as he made his way to his bedroom.

Miguel grabbed a set of clean clothes from the dresser and got himself dressed for bed. Even with the unease that was lingering in his head, his routine still felt mechanical and familiar. Nothing else seemed to change.

Once he was dressed, he slipped under the cool covers of his bed, shutting out everything that had happened today.

I’m still debating if I should make this a series or not. Part two?? Readers POV?? Maybe a flashback of their argument before they broke up 👀?? Because I have the dialogues for that already NOTED

Just lmk if you wanna be tagged

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @miguels-aranita @thealleydog @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @strawberryjuice9 @lazyjellyfish300 @ghost-lantern @what-the-jams @mcmiracles @monarchberrysblog @niyahwhoreworld @keigoloveminty @ewan-tef @ginanet @mrsoharaa @flowerlemonss-blog @shadowarchon @smartyren @famouscattale @stressed-cherry @hrhmimieucliffe @ultravioletrayz @grxnde-dwt @homewreckingwreck @your-antares-universe @crimin4llyins4ne @tojishugetiddies @miguel-ohara-wifey

Now I’m gonna log off for two days bc I don’t want to see ppls immediate reaction to this 😟

Btw, I will be interacting with your fics and reblogging from my second account @lmaoyouwhore (don’t pree the blog too hard, it’s still under construction lol)

Ayrus xoxo

452 notes · View notes