#spider man one shot
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The Office’s Guide to Falling in Love
summary - You are not in love with Peter Parker. He’s just your best friend who makes you watch The Office with him. So why is Jim so relatable?
warnings - fluff, language, office spoilers, italicized dialogue is office quotes
word count - 3.6k
It was hard for you to think of Peter as anything more than a friend. It wasn’t anything of his own doing, there was nothing he could have done to change this outcome if he tried. It was more of a defense mechanism. You saw Peter as a friend because you couldn’t see him as anything more than a friend. And it wasn’t like it was easy, but repressing emotions began to come like second nature. Bright, tooth filled smiles and bashful looks to the floor were always common and it felt like every second you were getting better at holding back the butterflies that were buzzing in your chest. Peter was a friend because you were too. And that’s all you would be.
The thing was, you didn’t know if you loved Peter. You knew what it was like to love a family member, what it was like to love a friend, but everyone said that when you love love someone, it’s different. How do you know you love someone if you have no conception of it? You could just as easily say you didn’t love Peter just as you could say you did love him. What’s the point of ruining a friendship over something you don’t even know to be true?
And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried. Phillip Garner, 6th grade, pretended to propose to you in the parking lot of your middle school, turned straight to your friend and asked if she was jealous enough to date him now. Ricky Mueller, the boy you’d had a crush periodically for five years straight, told you to your face that he thought your best friend was hotter than you. Liam Wagner, took you on your first real date, held your hand and made you smile, motioned to the backseat of his car with a suggestive smile, left you alone in the parking lot when you refused. The list goes on.
At some point, you realized that the common factor was that there always seemed to be someone better than you. And that was fine. Who cared if a couple guys didn’t think you were worth it? But how could you confidently look at yourself, see all the flaws they were quick to point out, and think that Peter could love you? The most mediocre boys you’d ever met couldn’t see you that way, it was only a logical conclusion that Peter couldn’t either.
And maybe people would say that you were closing yourself off to opportunities or that you shouldn’t put all your value into what a couple guys thought of you, but when you couldn’t recall one positive romantic experience, it was easier to shut it down when you still could. So while everything about Peter seemed to fill you with an inflated feeling you couldn’t place, you ignored it. You don’t feel those things about your friend.
“You look like you died.” Peter’s comment had you nudging him playfully, rolling your eyes.
“Maybe if you didn’t keep forcing me to binge Star Wars with you, I would have enough time to finish all my homework and go to sleep before two in the morning,” you shot back, fully expecting him to respond with some witty reply, but it never happened.
Peter looked down thoughtfully, as though considering your words, which were serious to an extent, but you would never fault him for it. He twisted the straw of his coffee cup a couple times before looking back up at you.
“Here,” the cup was placed in your hand and you gave him a quizzical look.
“Did you not want it anymore?”
Peter let out a soft laugh at your words, though you had no idea why. “If that’s what makes you drink it, then sure.”
You weren’t sure if love was supposed to be painful, but considering everyone had only good things to say about it, you didn’t think it was. Which was just another reason why you didn’t love Peter. Because it felt like a crushing weight on your chest to watch him throw his head back with laughter or smile so bright you swear it could light up any room. You pushed aside the fact you only seemed to feel that pain when his laugh or smile wasn’t directed at you.
You knew that part of you was scared that one day Peter would find someone. It was a thought you had a lot actually. It wasn’t like you and Peter could just stay the way you were forever. Your relationship was close, closer than quite a few of your friends thought it should be for just ‘pals’ and you couldn’t really argue with them. The day Peter got a girlfriend, you knew your friendship would change because part of you knew that your friendship wasn’t normal. But Peter only thought of you as a friend. So it should be easy, right?
“What happened? Did you miss your bus?” You couldn’t remember the last time Peter hadn’t been first on the Academic Decathlon bus on competition day and now he wasn’t even on the bus, he was standing on your front porch.
“No, I just missed my wife.” His words had your eyebrows almost raised to your hairline as that was, quite possibly, the last thing you were anticipating to hear.
“What the fuck?” You could stop yourself, the words rolling off your tongue before you could think.
Your reaction drew a loud laugh from him, the sound making you almost shiver. “C’mon Y/N, have you never seen The Office? You quoted Pam word for word.”
“Oh,” again you spoke before you thought and the word sounded dejected on your lips. Backtracking quickly, you stepped aside to let him in.
If Peter had noticed your quick change in attitude, he didn’t say anything, making himself at home on your couch like he always seemed to. You still had no idea what he was doing there, but, knowing him, it meant that the competition had probably been canceled and he had come to hangout with you instead.
“You playing hooky, Parker?” You teased, falling back into the normal patterns of your friendship and you made yourself comfortable on the cushion next to him.
“A couple students from the other team got the flu, so they decided to reschedule,” he shrugged. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, a common defense mechanism, it gave you a couple seconds to catch yourself when you noticed you were staring too long. “No, I haven’t seen The Office. Does this mean you’re gonna stop being my friend?”
Especially more recently, it felt like anytime you had made some sort of self-deprecating joke, Peter would ignore the playful air around you and say something meaningful. And you weren’t quite sure why.
“I’m never gonna stop being your friend.”
You shifted awkwardly, letting out a cough and trying to ignore the fact that Peter was looking at you. Grabbing the remote, you turned on the T.V. quickly.
“So,” you turned to him with a smile plastered onto your face. “Should we watch it then?”
The seriousness in Peter’s eyes seemed to disappear and he smiled at your suggestion, taking the remote from you and pulling up the first season of the show he was determined to make you love. You hadn’t meant to, but as the opening scene played on the screen, you found yourself scooting closer and closer to Peter. But only because he had the blanket.
“That’s Pam and Jim,” he spoke softly in your ear as the camera panned to the two characters. “He’s in love with her, but she has no idea. She thinks he only thinks of her as a friend.”
You knew you were reading into things. You knew you were. But something about the way he said it made you wonder. He’s in love with her, but she has no idea. She thinks he only thinks of her as a friend.
It became a tradition between the two of you. Every Friday, one of you would go home with the other and watch as many episodes as you could sit through. Any time Peter had patrol, you would just wait until after, getting as far as you could in the show before he inevitably passed out.
You knew you would have enjoyed the show regardless, but watching Peter laugh at every joke or mouth along to the scenes he’d memorized made the whole experience that much better. You couldn’t even be mad at yourself for not watching it sooner. How could you be, when you got to experience the whole thing through Peter’s eyes.
However, the only negative was that, now, it was getting more difficult to say you didn’t love Peter. Your only measure of defense was that you didn’t really know what love was and, therefore, couldn’t really point it out when you saw it. And that made it easier to ignore your growing feelings because you could just tell yourself you had no idea what you were thinking. It made it easier for Peter to stay a friend.
But then you started watching this show, this bizarre, wacky show about a stupid nine-to-five job at a paper company. You watched this character talk about his love interest the same way you thought about Peter. It felt like his script was coming straight from your mind and that was the scariest thing. Jim was supposed to be in love with Pam. You weren’t supposed to be in love with Peter. So why did everything Jim say make so much sense?
“I don’t think I can watch an episode tonight,” Peter grumbled as he finally got to fall into bed. “I just wanna sleep.”
You nodded, though he couldn’t see you. That night’s patrol had not been kind to the boy. On top of the fact that he let a criminal get away, Tony Stark laid into him — via comms — about his reckless behavior. Which was somewhat warranted given how many hits Peter took while pursuing the armed criminal, you were almost positive they would leave bruises.
After putting up with an almost merciless beating and still losing, Peter was definitely not in the best of moods. You had offered to just go home when he came through his bedroom window, suggesting you could just schedule your Office night for another time, but the idea seemed to disgust him and you ended up staying with him anyway.
Realizing you had been standing in the middle of his room for too long, you moved to lie down next to him. You hated seeing Peter like this. And it wasn’t because you loved him, it was because he was your friend and you cared about your friends. His face had been buried in his pillow the moment he got in bed and you could already picture the grumpy look on his face. Drumming your fingers on his back, you tried to think of ways to cheer him up. So you did the only thing you could do.
“Do you want me to beat him up for ya?”
You felt his body still under your hand and, for a moment, you thought you messed up. But soon enough, he turned slightly, removing his face from the pillow and finally letting you look at him.
“No, I shouldn’t have to ask you to do stuff like that,” you could see he was trying to bite back a smile. “You should just do it.”
As soon as the words left his lips, he was smiling again and you felt your heartbeat pick up. It was easy to say you weren’t in love, it was easy to say anything. But it was much harder to believe it. So you could say you didn’t love Peter all you wanted, but moments like this, the both of you in his room as you finally made him smile because it was your favorite sight in the world, made you really question the truth behind those words.
“Do you think we’re like Pam and Jim?” Peter had closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see the way your smile faltered.
“Don’t kid yourself, you’re Dwight,” you teased him, though the words held little weight in your mind. “I could be, like, Angela or something.”
“Jokes on you,” he mumbled sleepily, turning over to get more comfortable. “They get together too.”
If you loved Peter the way Jim loved Pam, then you most certainly couldn’t tell him how you felt. In fact, you could kiss the writers for giving you a way out. Because Jim confesses to Pam and you watch them fall more and more in love, and suddenly you’re wondering why you don’t just confess to Peter and then this show, this beautiful, beautiful show, reminds you exactly why you can’t. Because yes Pam and Jim fall in love, but now you’ve reached season nine and you're slowly watching them fall out of it.
And then Peter queued up the next episode, Paper Airplane, and you’re sitting in silence because you’re right back where you started. Because they aren’t falling out of love, they’re working through it and, if anything, it’s just another reason that you should tell Peter how you feel.
You knew you loved Peter and you couldn’t hide it from yourself anymore. You could sit there and say that you didn’t know what love was or that it wasn’t even worth it to fall in love. But love was giving someone your coffee when they needed it more, or telling them some silly inside joke to make them smile, or showing up at their house unexpectedly because your first thought was wanting to spend time with them, or memorizing almost every quote from The Office because it was special to them. It was beautiful. It was a type of beauty you didn’t want to miss out on just because you were scared.
And maybe Peter didn’t love you the way you loved him. But maybe he did, because for as many examples of love you could list for yourself, you could list them for him too. That had to mean something, right? Peter was this stable force in your life that came in the form of a lanky boy with awkward giggles and cheesy jokes. Peter never made you feel like a second choice. You couldn’t name one pleasant romantic memory but you could name millions of memories with Peter that felt pleasantly romantic.
“I’m gonna have to cancel next Friday,” Peter’s voice next to you brought you out of your thoughts.
“That’s okay,” both of you pulled your attention from the television. “Are you patrolling or something?”
“No, um,” Peter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ned wanted to set me up with one of his friends, so we’re gonna go to the movies on Friday.”
As real as The Office seemed to be sometimes, you weren’t a character in a T.V show. Peter wasn’t going to magically fall in love with you, there wasn’t just going to be some grand gesture that wrapped up the season, that just didn’t happen in real life. You could love Peter all you wanted, but that wouldn’t change anything. It made things worse if anything, because now that you knew you loved him, you couldn’t justify staying friends with him. It wasn’t fair to you, or Peter, or whichever girl he ended up loving.
“Are you okay?”
The Friday of Peter’s date had come and passed and you were doing your best to pretend it never happened. You didn’t even know how it went, not really bothering to pull that information from your best friend and he didn’t seem very keen on sharing it either. Out of the two of you, you least expected you to be the one who was trying to fall back into the normal patterns of your friendship and Peter to be the one acting odd. But you were three episodes in and Peter still had yet to even laugh at a joke.
“I was just…” you paused the show for Peter’s benefit. “I’m in love with you.”
You didn’t even let yourself react, furrowing your brows slightly as you thought.
“I can’t remember Pam’s line,” you finally conceded.
“Y/N, I’m serious,” Peter sat up slightly, turning to you fully. “I’m in love with you, like I’m actually in love with you.”
Though you had always tried not to, you had been dreaming of this moment for so long. But you never expected to feel that chest crushing pain or feel your eyes water faster than they ever had before. You were more confused by your reaction then Peter was, looking between him and the television as your emotions seemed to be turning against you.
You didn’t know what love was, you didn’t. You’d based the whole idea of it off of some show. And now Peter was saying he loved you. And that went against everything you’d ever thought about yourself. Because Phillip Garner didn’t love you, and Ricky Mueller didn’t love you, and Liam Wagner didn’t love you, and Peter was so much better than all of them.
“Peter, you don’t—” You still had no idea why you were crying, making the panic fueling your senses heighten. “That’s not— You’re lying.”
“Y/N,” he tried to wipe your tears, but you pushed his hands away. “I’m not lying.”
“But that doesn’t—” You got up from the couch, running a shaky hand through your hair. “What about your date?”
“I don’t know,” Peter looked down, the conversation going in a way neither of you expected. “My friends just wanted me to get over you and I guess maybe I thought I had to, but I don’t want to get over you. The best part of my week is when we watch The Office together. The best part of my life was meeting you. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I didn't know I loved you.”
“How do you know, Peter?” It felt like every part of your body was at war with itself. You wanted to believe Peter, that was all you wanted, but you couldn’t. “How do you know you love me?”
Peter got up from the couch, grabbing your hands and looking at you with so much sincerity you almost waivered. “How could I not love you? Y/N, you’re my favorite person in the whole world and I don’t need to be 50 or— Or 30 or whatever to know that. I see you and everything and it’s beautiful. I see you in people and places, I see you in that ice cream shop you swear you got food poisoning at, but we both know you might just have a lactose sensitivity. I see you at my Decathlon competitions, cheering me on in the stands and sacrificing so many things because you know that seeing you there makes me happy. I can’t thank you enough for how you let me see the world. And there could be millions of Karens, or Cathys, or, hell, even Pams, and it would still be you. It’s always gonna be you.”
There was no way you could tell Peter he was lying. He wasn’t. And you knew he wasn’t because he was looking at you the same way you looked at him. He’d always looked at you the way you looked at him.
“Not ‘enough’ for me?” His voice caused you to look up at him. “You are everything.”
You let out a watery giggle, wiping your eyes. You could really see what Pam saw in him now, Jim really did have a way with words.
You didn’t know about love. But you knew that love wouldn’t fix everything. Just because Peter loved you didn’t mean that you couldn’t love yourself. You had spent so long thinking you weren’t enough for people, when it didn’t matter if you weren’t. You should have been enough for yourself. And while it was hard to change that mindset and you had to fix it yourself, Peter sure made it a lot easier. Love was not a solution to all of your problems, love was the reason you kept fighting through them. And considering that reason had always been Peter, you should have known you loved him a lot sooner.
“Hey,” his voice was soft as he opened the door for you.
It was your last Office night, you only had two episodes left, though you had no doubt you’d find another one. Just maybe not one as meaningful.
This time, you didn’t suppress your bashful look to the ground. “Hey.”
Peter’s hand was cupping your cheek, slowly coaxing you to look at him and, though you could look into his eyes for the rest of your life, you didn’t have much time to. In that moment, you were almost thankful that every guy you’d liked had been kind of a jerk, because if they had held you back from Peter and the way he was kissing you right now, life definitely wouldn’t have been as beautiful as it was now.
“Wow. We should have started dating, like, a long time ago,” he whispered, pulling away slightly, a cheesy grin on his face.
You bit your lip with a smile, the feeling of complete, utter, indescribable happiness filling your chest once more. “Stop quoting The Office, you dork.”
#peter parker imagine#peter parker imagines#peter parker x reader#peter parker one shot#peter parker one shots#peter parker fluff#spider man imagine#spider man imagines#spider man x reader#spider man one shot#spider man one shots#spider man fluff#marvel imagines#avengers imagines#x reader#buggy's got a pen
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ahhh, does anybody wanna put sumn tasm/smhc x reader ( or quite literally ANYTHING PLEASE ) requests in my inbox? feel like writing 🤭
if u do, plz specify gender!reader and the character 😸
#imagines#andrew garfield#spider man#tasm 2#spider man tasm#spider man one shot#tom holland spiderman#marvel spiderman#marvel#spider man hc#no way home#spider man nwh#nwh#spider man x you#spider man x y/n#spider man x reader#marvel x reader
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning.
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased.
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck.
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress.
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions.
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him.
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear.
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go.
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips.
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it.
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts.
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#miguel o hara#atsv miguel#miguel smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o’hara smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#spider verse#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#across the spiderverse#oscar issac characters#oscar isaac
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words
fic masterlist pt one next part
i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.
Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.
He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.
You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.
He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.
So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.
You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."
Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.
When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.
Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.
"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.
"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.
He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."
You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"
Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"
Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."
Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."
Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.
You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.
You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.
Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)
You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"
He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.
He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)
"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.
"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”
You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"
"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.
"To prove I'm helpful."
"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"
"Of course."
"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.
"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"
He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."
"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.
You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.
;;
You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.
Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.
'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.
You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.
"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.
Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."
You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."
Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."
You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.
"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.
"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.
Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.
You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"
"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"
You nod.
"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."
You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."
He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."
You eye him. "Like what?"
"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."
You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.
i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…
also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment
#the miguel effect#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara across the spider-verse#miguel o'hara#across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv#atsv#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara one shot#Spider-Man-2099#spiderman 2099#marvel#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader
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Ride me? || Miguel O'hara
Pairing: Miguel O'hara (Spider-Man 2099) x F!reader
Tags: Overstimulation, rough sex, choking, squirting, vaginal fingering, big dick Miguel, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), fang kink if you squint.
Words: 1.8k
Summary: Just when you thought he's exhausted enough from chasing Miles Morales and had given you the chance to actually ride him, Miguel has other plans.
This man evokes something so feral in me that I forgot I was suffering through the worst writer's block. He got me giggling and twirling my hair yesterday at the cinema wtf. I used my very limited Mexican Spanish knowledge from watching streamers flirting in a block game for this.
cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || guapito - handsome
Miguel isn't the type to let someone control the pace, even if he did, his hands grounded on your waist would soon guide your hips into a rhythm he prefers, hard and fast.
You've been hearing the ruckus down the spider webs, something about another version rebelling against the usual stories of every Spider-Man in the multiverse to save his dad. Knowing that your husband sits at the top as their leader, you expected him to disappear for a long period of time.
Not that you mind of course, he's had plenty of times he charges in to handle an anomaly himself.
You do have to give some kudos to the kid for trying to change reality though. After Miguel's story, nobody in the headquarters, even you, dared to defy the fates laid upon every Spider-Man.
It's been three days since he left and honestly, you didn't expect him to arrive yet. A person deterring from the fates of every Spider-Man would be hard to handle, you couldn't even imagine how difficult it'd be.
So when the doors to your apartment flew open and came to him, practically drooping from exhaustion, you were surprised.
He came earlier than expected.
"How'd the chase go?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Come here."
Drying your hands off on the towel hanging from the wall counter, you made your way to the man laid spread and heaving on the couch. His head tipped back with his usually neatly gelled hair now haggard and messy, he looked up when he sensed your presence and immediately pulled you onto his lap.
You laughed. "Don't fall asleep here, I don't want to carry your heavy ass."
His lips tugged into a weak smile, his pointy canines briefly appearing.
"Spider-Man is supposed to help the weak, are you really ignoring a civilian in need?"
You didn't get what he meant until he pulled your hips closer, dragging your core over the tent on his pants.
You hit his arm. "Go to sleep, you must've been really tired after chasing that kid around."
"Then ride me."
You paused before narrowing your eyes at him. He's baiting you with the very thing you've wanted to do since the beginning. But the dark cloud of lust in his eyes somehow convinced you of his genuineness.
His talons dug onto your flesh, hard enough to take control of your hips to grind on top of his dick sensually while keeping eye contact with yours. You couldn't ignore the pleasure and jolts of heat electrifying and burning your nerve endings alight at every drag of your heat over his.
"I want to feel you baby, I miss you so much."
Miguel pushes you down on his hardness and you moan, the feeling of his girth finding home between your legs shot electric pleasure down your spine.
"You are a convincing man."
"And you love it."
You lunged for a kiss and instantly, one of his hands threaded itself onto the back of your head, locking you in place as your lips danced against each other in a fierce battle. The raw hunger after being starved for a week now surfacing and consuming you both, mind and body.
His other hand guided your hips up and down his clothed dick, his deep groans and growl lit fireworks in you, igniting your determination to coax more of them out of his lips.
"Get rid of the pants or I'll rip it off of you."
"Rip it then."
He didn't need to hear you twice.
In one quick motion, he tore your sweatpants into two before doing the same thing to your panties and throwing them somewhere in the room. He groaned as his head fell onto the crook of your neck, hands crawling up to cup your breasts before your top and bra suffered the same fate as your other clothing.
"The pants, only the pants! I loved that bra!"
"I'll buy you something better, from another universe even." He responded, almost breathless as your scent invaded every speck of his senses. Miguel groaned. "Fuck, I miss this scent of yours baby."
"I don't care, get rid of the suit."
His attire dissolved into thin air and retracted back to god-knows-where, revealing his ruffled shirt and grey sweatpants that did nothing but proclaim his clear desire for you.
"Let me prep you real good, huh?"
Retracting his talons, two of his fingers delved into your heat, immediately drenching itself with your arousal and he groaned.
"So wet for me, mi amor."
"Only for you, guapito."
Two of his digits rolled your clit sensually and with the dexterity of an experienced man, urging more of your arousal to coat his fingers further. Once he was satisfied with the amount of fluid now dripping into his pants, he wandered lower and lower until he plunged his index in, curling it up so deliciously you moaned and grinded your hips onto the slow plunge of his hand.
His eyes watched your heat like a ravenous man holding back, the feral look on his face only pulled you closer to the edge.
And it's only a finger in.
"So tight, mi vida. You treat me so well."
He added two fingers in and you screamed, his pace now rapidly gaining speed. Your eyes rolled back as your hips thrashed and clumsily followed his thrusts, there was nothing else that mattered more than coming for your darling in that moment.
Miguel groaned, watching your face twist into the most sinful display of pleasure he has ever seen. The pride and smugness from knowing it was all because of him made him smile.
Only he could see you in such a state and no one else.
You clenched around his digits, tempting him to finally take the dive. Although his fingers coaxed pleasure out of you with no problem, you missed the feeling of his dick carving your insides, stretching you thin and reminding your cunt who it belongs to.
But Miguel ignored the bait and instead hastened up while curling up to push on your g-spot. You almost blacked out from the euphoria he feeds you, a coil in your stomach tightened and you moaned.
"I'm cl-close… Fuck!"
"Give it to me baby, I want it all."
It didn't last long until the coil exploded and your arousal squirts out of your cunt to drench Miguel's shirt, whose gaze turned a shade darker at the scene when you peered down to meet his gaze.
A tense atmosphere rose from his mere gaze and goosebumps prickled your skin. Your heartbeat jumped through the roofs as you stared back at his dark eyes, he triggered your spidey sense.
And for some sick reason, it only ignited the simmering arousal in the pits of your abdomen.
"Fuck the ride, you're not getting up until I say so, cariño."
You barely sensed him flipping you both, with you now seated and spread on the sofa while he stood in front of you, hastily removing his remaining clothing as if it angered him.
It didn't take long until his hand cautiously wrapped around your neck and his other, pinning your hips as he plunged himself deep into your cunt. You screamed as he pushed more of him, inch by inch. He stretched you out to the point of no return, the burn of his cock carving you open once more made you light-headed.
And he loves nothing more but seeing the cock-drunk look on your face.
Miguel grinned, his fangs protruding so attractively. "God, I love how fucked you look for me, cariño. Give me more."
He pulls and plunged himself back in, shooting hot white pleasure in your body. Miguel didn't wait long before his usual hard and rough pace started. The hand around your throat tightened and your mind turned woozy from the lack of oxygen, his thrust taking your breath away only evoking the feeling of nirvana within you.
He drove in you hard and quick enough you can distantly hear the couch legs wincing as it gets pushed back with every plunge of his dick.
"Fuck…!"
"That's right darling, I'm fucking my sweet cariño open and wide for me."
The electric shocks the head of his cock briefly grazing the head of your uterus sent your legs flailing on his sides. Growing bothered by them, he halts to rest them on his wide shoulders and wraps his arm around your thigh before entering somehow deeper into you.
Your hands found his meaty thigh and dug itself onto it and it encouraged him to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge and you swore you could see the pearly gates of the heavens.
"I'm co-coming…! Miguel!"
"Give it to me baby, you know how much I love seeing you convulse so helplessly around me."
The hand on your throat left to find purchase on your clit, rubbing you as fast his cock plunges into you.
With a scream, you came.
Your legs trembled violently on his shoulder as more of your arousal spurts out of your heat, white hot pleasure burned and stirred every nerve ending awake as your eyes rolled back.
But this doesn't seem to be enough for Miguel who only took a break to see your thighs convulse before continuing his thrusts.
You hit his thighs as he kickstarted another orgasm now bubbling in the pit of your stomach but he paid no heed.
Not that you minded of course, if anything, it only pleases the sick bastard in your head, wishing to be used and fucked so well by your husband like it's your sole purpose.
"I'm so close, baby. Can you give me another one? Surely you can, right?"
His fingers rubbed your clit to the point of pain yet it somehow enhanced the pleasure growing larger in your chest and you screamed. Miguel bent down to rest his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, in the clouded state you were in, you could make out the sharp points of his canines pushing down your skin.
The threat of his bite shot jolts down to your heavily beaten cunt, once again tightening its coil. The frequent groans and low growls escaping his lips alone told you he's near to climax.
And with that, he's dragging you down with him.
"Please please please, give it to me…!"
"Yes, cariño. Anything, Anything for you."
With a couple of thrust, scorching hot explodes inside of you and Miguel slows down, almost into a halt as he rides down his high. The face of pure unadulterated ecstasy painting his face, along with his fingers, you came with another shout.
When he's calmer, he lets his sweaty body fall into your arms before reaching around to do the same.
As your breathing returns to normal and the fog in your head clears, Miguel places a gentle kiss on your temple and cheeks.
"I love you so much, cariño."
"I love you more, guapito."
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#spider-man: into the spiderverse fics#spider man: across the spider verse fics#spider-man fics#spider-man smut#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#miguel o'hara one shot
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<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3
[NSFW]
With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.
Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.
But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.
It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first… to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.
Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.
In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.
You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.
Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).
You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.
You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.
You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.
His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals…
It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…
He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.
You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.
You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.
You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.
Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.
You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.
You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.
His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.
This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.
Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.
You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.
You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.
“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita… Mmfuck.”
He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.
Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me…do that again...” he pleads.
“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.
“Oh-oh fuck… si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.
You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit…. I’m close, mama, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.
You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“
“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”
You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.
He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.
You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.
“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved…”
Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.
“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.
“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.
“You sureee? You really don't have to-”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.
Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.
Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.
“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”
“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.
If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”
His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”
Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.
One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.
“Prettiest pussy ever…. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.
You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.
"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.
"But Miguel-"
He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.
Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.
Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.
"B-baby, baby… I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.
“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this… ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada más…” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.
Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"
"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.
Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.
You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.
He gently stops you, and you lay back down.
“I am… but not for food.”
Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3
Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!
This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3
Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3
Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!
P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs 🤭 MWAH!
- Cupcake xoxo
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
#Would let him do this to me all day idc#I'd drop everything to be able to have this#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara smut#across the spiderverse#atsv#dadbod!miguel#spider man 2099#miguel o’hara#miguel fanfic#miguel x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o'hara blurb#miguel o'hara one shot#miguel atsv#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara fanart#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara#valentines day
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Stay Away From Him
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.
A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!
Part 2
“Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, Peter!”
“Hey, Y/N”
“Oh hey, Peters.”
“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.
“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”
This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.
Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.
“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.
“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.
“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.”
“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in.
Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.
“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”
“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.
You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.
“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.
He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.
“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.
“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.
“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.
“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.
“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.
Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.
“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie.
“What? You keeping her hostage now?”
All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving.
“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie.
“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.
“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.”
“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.
“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”
“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.
“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”
“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”
“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders.
Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises.
“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.”
“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”
Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out.
“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”
“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.”
Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”
“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.
“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else.
You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off.
“Come up here and help me look at this.”
Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.
“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”
You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.
“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances.
“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”
“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”
“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras?
The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.
About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”
Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”
“You two have gotten close?”
Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”
A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”
“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.”
Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues.
“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.
“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now.
“I said ‘you should stay’-”
“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”
“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones.
“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”
“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.
“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.
“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”
“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!”
“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.
“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.”
All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.
“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.
“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.
Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber.
After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings.
Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening.
“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”
Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.
“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”
Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.”
And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home.
#fanfiction#fanfic#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman fanfic#spiderman#spider man#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara one shot#hobie#hobie brown#spider punk#spiderman x reader#spider man 2099
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if your request r still open— what about Hobie and his crazy in love gf— her being so obsessed and in love with her boyfriend and coming to his house and lifting her shirt and hobie thinking she’s just needy and horny but she’s showing him how she got his name tatted on her, maybe a tramp stamp or something
𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk
🎸、 . *. ⋆ spanking, mentions of tattoos (reader), poor attempt at British slang. lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 453
The doorknob squeaks when your hands touched it, almost as if it feared your presence in Hobie's house. Yes, you did come uninvited; but Hobie said he'd welcome you in whenever you wanted right? Obviously, who would turn down such an offer?
Hobie was in the living room, strumming his guitar with his spiky headphones. The floors creak when Hobie's kicks landed on them, he was generous enough to let you wear them whenever you wanted.
You were wearing his sweater, shoes, and the ring he made for you. He was oblivious enough to not notice you, but the smirk that grew on his face only proved you wrong.
'''Ya can't go a day without me, huh?'' Hobie told you, still tuning his guitar with his feet kicked on the sofa. ''Mm, I really can't Hobie.'' You tell him, your hands behind your back. If it wasn't evident enough (It really wasn't.) you came to show Hobie your new 'tat that you got done today.
But it seemed like Hobie had something else in mind.
''Sit'' Hobie separated his arms and invited you into his lap. ''Hobie... Not right now, silly.'' Your words made Hobie's brow turn upwards, you usually come at this time specifically and come at his house to have some sex.
''Why not, darl?'' The nickname made you shiver, his deep and raspy voice only enticing you further. But you were too excited to show Hobie your new tattoo that you got done specifically for him.
You didn't say anything when you took off Hobie's sweater, showing off your low-rise jeans that almost expose your ass and thong. You only wore a bra, so the tattoo wouldn't get covered.
There it was. It wrote; 'Hobie' right on the slope of your ass. Hobie was stunned, to say the least. He almost felt drool dripping out of his mouth, even. He pulled you in his lap almost instantly when he laid eyes on the ink tainted on your body.
''Fuck, princess. You couldn't have gotten any hotter.'' Hobie kissed your back, trailing downwards to the tattoo. His hand slaps your left cheek, firm and slender hands landing on your ass. You let out a small whimper, it only made your panties a lot more soaked than it was.
''Hobie...'' ''Want me to bend you over and fuck you from the back, hm? 'Wanna see my name bounce on your ass.'' His hands toyed with the flesh of your butt, his nails trailing on his name.
You moan in response, grinding on Hobie's thigh.
might write a part two to this with full smut ! ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy
#ㅤ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི ⟢ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃﹒ㅤ#@fusaes#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spider verse spoilers#hobie brown one shot#hobie brown smut#hobie#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x reader smut#hobie brown x f!reader#smut#hobie brown fanfiction#across the spider verse smut#hobie x reader#hobie x reader smut#spider punk smut#spider punk x reader#spider punk x reader smut#hobie brown x you#spiderpunk smut#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk x reader smut#hobie brown fic#x fem!reader#x female!reader#no y/n#x f!reader#spider man atsv smut
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Ok it's headcanon time what do you think Peter's reaction would be when him and his friend who've been bffs for years and are very comfortable with physical touch suddenly starts to pull away from him cause she saw him flirting with another girl at thier college mixer and so she starts to pull away from his physical touches cause she feel like she should finally be able to move on from him and start her college life without pining after him all the time and slowly peter starts noticing that she always give him affection when he needs it on his tough days but refuses his touch even when he remotely comes near her
🌌
just so you know
tasm!peter x fem!reader
a/n: sorry this took ages, i forgot how to write (there was a more perfect gif but tumblr hates me)
*
“what’s going on?”
you look up again, meeting uncertain eyes with a fake sense of amusement. you know what you’re doing, and so does peter.
“what?” you tease, running your hand over plastic price tags and years of dust, staring down at ceramic mugs and tiny scentless candles.
peter puts his hand on your back, walking with you, and as a subtle and graceful friend, you quickly move away from him, pretending to kneel down and look at a set of plates.
“that. this—this thing that your doing.” peter points to you like it’s a physical entity. some thing you’re holding just to hurt him. a handful of tricks.
“looking at cat mugs?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“avoiding me. pretending like you haven’t been evading every question i’ve asked.”
you frown, but don’t look up. you finger a curved handle, swallow and let the lies slip from your mouth without any effort. if you’ve been distant from peter recently, it’s nothing but an accident. a practiced maneuver. “i’m not avoiding you.”
“you haven’t looked at me all day.”
“i’m looking at you right now, peter.” and so you do.
peter smiles, laughs a bit, his chest rising and falling, but it’s frustrated. he runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head. and then he bends down and wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you up before you get the chance to stop him.
and you would stop him, you know, if he hadn’t already pointed out that you’ve been doing it all day. for at least the past week.
his touch burns, like a singe on your already red wounds. and even though he’s smiling at you, being as gentle as peter always is, you can see your tension, can feel your own hesitation in his skin.
“did i hurt you, or something?” he asks, biting the inside of his cheek. “i know we—well, we’re not um, that hesitant with being close, touching and stuff, but if i did something accidentally—“
“you haven’t hurt me, peter.”
“okay… then what’s going on? do you need to discuss boundaries with me?”
“what?” you laugh.
“i’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” peter says, softly, like you’re some breakable thing. “i just want to make sure that you—that we’re okay.”
“of course we’re okay, peter.”
and then, that’s not quite true.
when you look into peters eyes, it’s not an auburn storm that you see. it’s not even yourself being reflected in his irises.
it’s flashing lights and music that made your head pound. there’s sticky floors and too many people—so much air, and too much breathing in such a small room. you see people laughing and singing, hands and bodies intertwined like it would hurt to be apart.
and it’s all sort of beautiful and disturbing, all sort of a lot—but then, there’s familiar hands, running up an unfamiliar body. peter had asked you to dance, but you knew it was only so he could laugh because he knew that you couldn’t.
when you look into peters eyes you see her. and there’s such a strong fire ignited in your chest, such a vehement jealousy that you have to look away.
you have to physically pull yourself away from him just so you don’t feel like that. just so you can tell yourself that it’s not fair.
“we’re fine,” you repeat, softly, and you look away from him. turn away, so you can block yourself away from his all too knowing stare.
you don’t pull away from his hands, but god do you want to. you want to take a break from him, a break from all of this until you can promise yourself that you just don’t care.
that you don’t crave his side stepping and hand holding and resting your head on his shoulder or leaning against his chest. that isn’t fair.
you clear your throat; you can’t lie to him, and it’s not like peter is going to let you. “it’s just…” you start, stepping towards him and then away. “i don’t know if lindsay would be comfortable with it.”
peters face flinched, he tilts his head at you. “lindsay?”
“i don’t want to get in the way of anything…”
“get in the way of what?”
you meet his eyes and laugh. “c’mon, peter. you’re not as discreet as you think you are. there was that night at the club and then the “study” dates you’ve been going on.”
“that wasn’t anything—“ peter is quick to get out, but you shove his shoulder, pretending your laughter isn’t painful.
“save it, loverboy. if you want to hold someone’s hand,” you tease, “it should be your girlfriends. i was surprised you even asked me to come gift hunting today.”
peter swallows. “she’s not my girlfriend.”
you nod, turning away from him. “yeah, okay.”
“i’m serious. we’ve been working on a project for bio-chem, that’s all.”
“i’m not blind, peter.”
he walks when you do, leaning his head down until he can see your face. “don’t you think i’d tell you if started dating someone and it was serious?”
“um, no, not really. we don’t ever talk about that stuff.”
“yeah, because you get weird whenever i bring it up.”
“i don’t get weird—“ you say, turning to glare at him. he’s closer than you expected though so whatever you were about to say falls into the air. it blows away with the feel of peters breath on your cheek.
“i would tell you,” he says, “if i had a girlfriend.”
you lean away from him, taking a deep breath in. “okay, peter. but the point still stands. you shouldn’t be holding hands with me while you’ve got a girl who’s waiting for you to get your head out of your ass. or stop lying. whatever.”
“i don’t want to hold her hand.”
peters voice is soft, and his hand is gentle as it lands on your waist. he pulls you to him, like he’s sure that you’re going to run away.
“well now i know why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
peter chuckles, staring down at you with burning eyes. and this time, when you look at him, you see only a secret catching fire. “i don’t have a girlfriend because i want to hold your hand,” he whispers, a finger brushing up against your jaw.
“o-oh.”
you stare at him, unsure what else to say.
what other announcements need to be made, what other proclamations you should probably get in writing.
peter smiles again, wider. he lets go of you and turns so his shoulder is to you. and then he grabs your hand.
“just so you know,” he says, smirk far too much.
just so you know.
*
#i’m such a tease#tasm peter x reader#andrew!spiderman#the amazing spider-man#peter parker#peter parker x reader#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#spider-man#the amazing spider man#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter imagine#tasm spiderman#tasm#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter smut#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!peter parker#andrew garfield#peter parker x y/n#ask
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Omg for miguel requests!! Can i request one where spider-reader is very bold and always flirting with miguel and one time he flirts back and she gets super flustered and doesnt know how to respond😭
Thank you so much!! I love your writing youre so talented
AN | No, but this concept was aces! I hope you enjoy 🥰
Warnings | [Suggestive] Language
Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You could hear his angry footsteps before anything else and you braced yourself for his fury. Instead you busied yourself with looking at your suit to make sure everything was intact…or at least pretending to do so.
"What the fuck were you thinking!?" ahh yes, there it was. He was definitely angry, but you tried to keep it cool. You weren't about to admit that he made you nervous, even if the nerves were slight. You looked up from your sleeve and blinked innocently at him, "don't do that!"
"Do what?" You kept your voice sweet and soft, "what are you talking about, Miguel?"
"You - I - you are so infuriating!" he waved his finger in front of your face and you simply shrugged, "you never listen to me! I don't know why I even let you stay on the team!"
"Oh Miguelito," you gently reached up and brushed his hand out of your face. You were well aware of what he was talking about - you'd directly gone against his orders. But, to be fair, things had turned out just fine despite choosing your own method. It wasn't like you'd fucked up some cannon event, "everything's fine and no one got hurt!"
"But you don't listen," he sighed heavily, "that's the problem. And one day, it's going to get someone hurt. I'm not going to let you do that to anyone…or yourself."
"You're so cute," a dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you touched his face, brushing your knuckles across his cheek. He lightly slapped your hand away, "but you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep worrying."
"I'm being serious!"
"So am I," you raised your eyebrows and sighed at him, "I won't do anything bad and I'd never put anyone else in danger. You know that."
"One more fuck up from you and you're done," his voice was low and dangerous and you pulled back slightly, "I mean it. Just because you think you're so cute and charming doesn't mean I can't see right through you."
"Miguel," you looked at him with wide eyes, "I don't think I'm cute - I know I'm cute. But not as cute as you, handsome. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go and make a few suit adjustments."
"This isn't over!" His cheeks darkened as he watched you walk away.
"I'd be disappointed if it was," you gave him a small salute, "see ya, Miguelito!"
He let out a sigh of exasperation as you walked away. It was definitely a challenge not to stare at your ass but he was just a man after all. So he definitely stared at your ass.
"Stop staring," Peter popped up behind him, causing Miguel to flinch, "just tell her you're in love!"
"I'm not…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not in love with her and I'm not doing this with you right. Get back to work, Parker."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It had been a few days since what you had decided to dub the incident had occurred. You'd more or less ignored Miguel, deciding to let him cool down on his own terms. You missed getting to give him a hard time and missed getting to tease him as you loved.
The thing was, you didn’t hate Miguel. It was…quite the contrary in fact. Over the last year that you’d been working for the man, or on his silly little team as you liked to tease him, you’d found yourself getting more and more attached to him. You really liked him and you weren’t shy about letting him know. You thought you were being obvious, but apparently you weren’t obvious at all because he didn’t seem to get it. Or, if he did, he really wasn’t interested and chose not to acknowledge your moves. It was Miguel though, and you were sure he would have just told you…but then again, would he have? Maybe he was just a simple-”
“What’s wrong, princess?” you started at the sound of his low, gruff voice. You hadn’t heard him sneak up and his sudden appearance almost scared you off your chair. Clutching at your heart, you looked over to see Miguel leaning against the edge of your desk, a lazy smile on his face. You were stunned by both his appearance and his casual display of affection, and could only manage to open and close your mouth a few times, “cat got your tongue?”
“Miguel?” you looked at him with wide eyes, “w-what are you doing…here?”
“Just wanted to come and see my favorite girl,” okay, there was definitely something going on. You highly doubted you were his favorite girl (that was probably Jessica or Mayday), let alone his favorite anything, “I have something for you.”
“For me?” your mouth ran dry as he nodded. Was he flirting with you? Surely he couldn’t be, “what would that be?”
“Here,” he reached behind his back and pulled out what looked like your suit…only this was slightly different. He placed it on the desk in front of you before moving to stand behind you. His larger frame easily dwarfed yours, and that was something you tried to push out of your mind. You looked over the suit, trailing your fingers over the soft fabric, “I made some adjustments to it. I think you’ll find it easier to access web fluid and its got better repair tech. Something new Parker was working on.”
You let out a small breath of amazement; this was an incredibly kind gesture from anyone, spider-people did happen to be generous for the most part, but this was next level. You re-familiarized yourself with the pink, blue, and purple fabric. A smile crossed your features as you turned your head to look at him. You found him watching you intently, “thank you, Miguel. This is…amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” his voice was near your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, “maybe it’ll help you to listen next time, hmm?”
“Miguel,” you turned in your seat and found yourself face to face with him, noses almost brushing. Whatever you were about to say quickly left your mind as you looked into his pretty brown eyes. A sharp inhale escaped your lips and you noticed the smile on his face grow larger, “I, ugh…I…”
“Hmm?’ it was a small sound of the back of his throat as he regarded you. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “what’s up?”
“I umm,” you stammered nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on yours, “I gotta go. I-I think Peter needed me for something.”
“He’s out on assignment right now.”
“Mayday then,” you volunteered slinking out from under his arm and grabbing the new suit, You felt your entire face warmed up as he started to chuckle, “Mayday needs me-”
“She’s a baby!”
“And I love her,” you squeaked, “so I gotta help her!”
You took off before he could say anything else or fluster you even more. Something had gotten into Miguel O’Hara and you weren’t sure you could handle it. You weren’t sure you’d survive the man you’d longed after for so long returning those very same feelings.
Well. This was going to get interesting.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You came to the decision, made after much contemplation and tossing and turning at night, that you were going to ignore Miguel. Not ignore completely but ignore his advances. If he did happen to flirt with you again, you weren't going to say or do anything. Not that you expected them…but, you know, just in case it happened.
When you got to the headquarters the next day, you kept to yourself, taking your coffee and making your way to your little assigned corner and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe if no one saw you, you could get away with being practically invisible.
But the universe wouldn't have it, of course it wouldn't.
"Hello there," his voice was sticky sweet like toffee and that didn't land well with you. Rather it did land well in the sense that it shouldn't have made you feel the rush you were currently experiencing, "you look pretty today."
"I, ugh," you looked down at your outfit and shrugged helplessly. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals; nothing that you would consider exceptional, "umm…thanks?"
"What's wrong?" He knew exactly what was wrong, the bastard. He could probably hear the erratic and wild beating of your heart, "you seem…nervous."
"N-no," you shook your eyes but your wide eyes and pretty pout were anything but convincing, "just…tired?"
"Are you sure about that?"
"No," you answered. You could have beaten around the bush all you wanted, but you knew that he wasn't going to give up. That wasn't Miguel at all. The best option - the only really - was to just come out and tell him the truth. Once it was all out, the chips would fall where they may, "why are you suddenly flirting with me? W-wait, are you flirting with me?”
“I am,” he admitted this so easily that it caught you off guard. You knew he wasn’t one to lie per se, but you didn’t expect him to just outright admit it. Confusion colored your features as you tried to get your mind to function again, “I am…flirting with you.”
“Oh,” you nodded and turned back to your computer screen before it all set in, “oh?”
“Oh,” he teased, reaching forward to brush some of your rogue locks of hair behind your ear.
“Why?” you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gently pulling his hand away, “is it because I’ve been flirting with you?”
“It’s one of the reasons…among others,” alright. Now you were curious, even more than before, as to where this was going, “is that a problem for you?”
Nope. No. Nah. Not. At. All.
“Ummm…” you felt ditzy and dazy as you looked over at the handsome man. He really had you thrown for a loop, “I just…if I made you feel uncomfortable with it, I’m sorry. I never meant it to be mean or anything. I just…meant it.”
“Meant it?” he parroted as you swallowed thickly, “you meant it all those times you were flirting with me?”
“Y-yes,” your confession was soft and gentle as Miguel practically preened under your words. He wasn’t sure what answer he had been expecting, but somehow it wasn’t this one. He hadn’t flattered him with the idea that you would seriously like him, “I did - I do, Miguel.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly as you blinked at him with wide eyes, “do you want to know something?”
“Y-yes? Yes,” you nodded, tummy fluttering with butterflies and heart pitter-patter rapidly.
“When I’ve been flirting with you,” he leaned down so he was almost face level with you, “I’ve meant it too, princess.”
“No way,” disbelief flooded your veins as the first conclusion you came to was that he was lying. Perhaps this was all to get back for going against his direct orders during your last mission. That must have been the reason, right? You leaned away from him and almost slid off your chair as you rolled back to create a bit of distance between your bodies, “y-you’re lying. You have to be…”
“I’m not lying to you,” this time he was in disbelief. He’d never once lied to you…why would he start now?
“You have to be,” you sounded so pathetic as you grabbed your stuff and almost ran away, “you can’t like me like that!”
“Why not?!”
“I dunno, you just can’t!” you almost ran into Peter as you tried to get away, “sorry!”
Peter was dumbfounded as he looked between your quickly disappearing figure and Miguel, “what happened now?”
“I wish I knew,” Miguel exhaled heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “fuck.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You kept your distance from HQ for a couple of days after your embarrassing outburst. You had replayed that very moment over and over in your head, trying to see it from all different angles.
The only conclusion you kept coming to was that he was telling the truth. And that reality was hard to come to terms with at first…but then it was blissfully exciting. Miguel liked you! But then it was more like Miguel liked you…holy shit.
But then you decided that more than anything, you needed to know the truth.
You practically ran over to his office, causing the curious glances of other spider-people to follow you. You could hear their hushed murmurs, but didn’t stop to address them. News traveled fast around this place and you had no doubt that as soon as whatever happened between the two of you, the news would spread like wildfire.
“Miguel!” you didn’t even bother to knock and announce your presence, bursting into his office without ceremony. He turned around to face you, a few different expressions crossing his features before settling on surprise, “I…”
“Yes?” suddenly every single coherent thought escaped your mind as you stared at him. He cocked his head to the side and looked at you expectantly.
“Did you mean it?” you whispered, taking a step closer to him, “the other day when you said you flirted with me because you meant it. Did you mean it?”
“Yes,” he promised, closing the gap even more, “of course I did. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Me neither,” you insisted, catching yourself, “lie to you, I mean. So…”
“So we’re on the same page now?”
“I think so,” you smiled hesitantly at him, and the two of you locked eyes for a few moments.
Before you could stop yourself, you closed the little bit of distance remaining between your bodies before practically jumping into his arms. Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, he effortlessly caught you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You beamed at him, melting as you watched him practically glow at you.
“I want to kiss you,” you touched his face, and he practically leaned into your touch, “may I?”
“You may-” you prevented him from saying anything else as you crashed your lips onto his, kissing him with a fierce determination and eagerness.
Neither of you dared to pull back until you were both breathless, looking at each other through hazy eyes and soft smiles. He gently set you back on the ground and you stared up at him.
“Do you want some more honesty?” he asked gently, stealing a few more kisses, which you eagerly gave him.
“Of course.”
“I plan on doing that a lot more,” and yeah…that made you practically jump his bones then and there, “if you’re down for it.”
“Yes,” that came without hesitation, “I definitely am.”
“Better close the door then,” you did as you asked, looking at him with round, eager eyes, “you know how nosey they can be.”
“The nosiest…”
“Now, c’mere,” he held his hand out to you, “and let me prove I wasn’t lying to you.”
“Yes, please.”
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara one shot#oscar isaac#spiderman 2099#atsv#spider-man
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♫ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡… TASM!Peter Parker with the bingo prompt ‘himbo’?
alright, so the thing is I feel like peter is really book smart but he is so oblivious otherwise, like if someone flirts with him it goes completely over his head. so reader has been his best friend for years and recently has been trying to drop hints that she likes him, and eventually she gets fed up of him being so oblivious that she just kisses him and he gets all whiney and then they do the devils tango (i am so sorry i’m really awkward when requesting 😭) but could there also be a size and praise kink, as well as an oral fixation? (if you don’t feel comfy pls delete this!!)
i hope u have a good day/night 💕
—𓆩[my beautiful idiot]𓆪—
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
nvm anon honey i couldn't sleep without posting this, i hope you enjoy it!!!
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Best Friend! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.7K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter have been best friends for what seemed like eternity, and has been in love with you for what seemed like forever, but he’s not going to give up — no matter how much it seems like you don’t like him back. The kid you babysit though that is way too old to be babysat disagrees though, and tries to show him how much you were in love with him too.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - crossover time|| heavily inspired by this interview/edit with Will Poulter (love him so much) || cursing & foul language || mentions of violence || Peter gets hurt || whiny Peter is best Peter || smut warnings include oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, praise, size kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, possessiveness, marking kink, biting, hickies, possibly more?
Miles was a helpless bystander between the two of you. It never worked out, not whenever Peter was too stupidly in love with you he never saw the hints that you dropped.
“Peter, I’m telling you, she’s in love with you!” Miles wanted to strangle the other Spider-Man, very very violently.
“I don’t… I don’t think she is,” Peter mumbles, a pout on his lips as he swirled pasta around his fork, one that you often made because it was his favorite. Was that not hint enough? You knew his favorite fucking pasta! “I don’t think I’m her type.”
“Who’s type?” You walked into the living room, plate in hand full of the cream based pasta you made on the side.
“Yours! Your type!” Miles grins. “Your type.”
“My type?” You hummed, thinking as you tap your chin. “My type… would be smart. Handsome, funny. Nerdy,” you look over at Peter who was still pouting. “Loves pasta.”
Miles slurps up some of the noodles, nodding. “I wonder who that could be!”
“Yeah, I wonder,” Peter mumbles, face falling as he scooped pasta into his mouth. “I wonder.”
“Really? In this room?!” Miles yells, moving his hands to gesture around the apartment. “I wonder?!”
Peter looked around, eyes narrowing. “You like Miles?”
How the fuck could he be so stupid?
“That’s it! I’m done!” Miles stood, looking at you. “He’s hopeless! Completely and utterly hopeless!”
You sigh, standing up too. “I could’ve told you that.”
You go around the couch, taking Peter’s finished plate of food as his face scrunches. “Who’s hopeless?”
“Oh baby,” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He didn’t think much of it, you did kiss him on the cheek often. “You are. You’re such a himbo.”
“A what? What’s a himbo?”
“It’s like… a beautiful idiot,” you press another kiss to his cheek, pulling back his chestnut hair from his face. “You’re my beautiful idiot.”
He pours as you walk away, Miles shouting out a goodbye as you finish your food and start cleaning up the dishes.
He didn’t want to be your ‘beautiful idiot’ — he wanted to be yours, overall and absolutely, he wanted to tick every box you ever wanted, he wanted to be yours. If he could, he’d want you to mark him as yours for forever and eternity, he just wanted you. He wanted a mark on him that said you owned him, just like you owned his heart for what seemed like forever.
“Peter? Don’t you have to go on patrol?” You yell out, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m going!” He goes into your room because he basically lived with you at this point, grabbing his suit and getting dressed with the door open.
“Peter?” You’re standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he stumbled into his suit, trying his best not to fall on his face. “Miles’ parents invited us over for dinner. I told them yes, you promise not to be late?”
“Yeah, I promise,” he grunted breathlessly as he quickly finished putting on his suit, looking around. “Where’s my mask?”
“Peter,” you say again, more stern this time as you walk over, bending down to pick up something from the ground. He froze when you stood in front of him, fixing his suit before handing him the mask. “Promise me you won’t be late.”
He smiled down at you, wide and his honey brown eyes shining. “I promise. Do I dress nice or casual?”
“Nicer than casual,” you say with a sigh, your hands rubbing against his chest to flatten out the suit, thinking about the fact he wore nothing underneath it. “I’m going to go over there early to help Rio cook, but I need you there by seven. Did you hear that? By seven. Dinner starts at seven-thirty, but I need you there by seven.”
He smiled, leaning down teasingly. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, I’ll be there by seven.”
You sigh, a smile on your face as you pat his chest. “Be safe, and take care of Miles if he tags along, okay?”
“I will.”
You both stay there for a few seconds, his eyes staring at your lips as you worriedly push your hands through his hair. You did it often, so much so that it became something you didn’t have to think about doing, or it was something you did when you were nervous.
What you both did were couple things, why weren’t you together? It was because Peter was too much of a beautiful idiot to know otherwise.
“Promise me you’ll be safe, and protect Miles if he goes. Don’t eat on your patrol, Rio is making the best food ever. And you have to be there by seven.”
“I promise,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at seven.”
“By seven!” You yell as he jumps out the window, sighing with a smile. “I swear, if you weren’t hot I would’ve stopped trying by now.”
It was seven-ten. Seven-fucking-ten. You helped Rio make arroz con gandules while she took care of the main course - chicken con sofrito - and she had also tasked you in making a grilled salsa. You were smashing it inside of the molcajete, the grinding and the scratching making Miles and his father wince.
“Y/N, honey do you want me to uhm… take over… that?” Jefferson asks as he comes closer to you.
“Nope,” you say as Rio dipped her fingers into the salsa and coughing. “Oh no, is it bad?”
“N-No,” she cleared her throat, coughing. “Just spicy, very spicy. Are you mad, honey?”
“You have no fucking clue,” you basically growled as Miles and Jefferson slowly stepped back.
“You have any clue where this kid is?” Jefferson whispers to Miles, looking over. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that salsa.”
“I-I’ll find him,” Miles says, nodding. “Just… distract them.”
First, he checked your apartment. He looked around, searching for anything that would show Peter was home, and when he found nothing — it was to the streets he went. He changed quickly, already swinging out the window to find the beautiful idiot. It didn’t take him long, quickly going to their favorite spot and finding him lounging, snoring extremely loudly.
“Peter! Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” Miles slapped Peter through the mask, gasping when he saw the gashes and lacerations all over his body. “Holy shit, Peter!”
He snapped up, gasping as he looked around. “What time is it?”
“Like seven-thirty already dude!” He quickly looks around. “What happened?!”
“I was helping a bank robbery, got dammit, Y/N is going to kill me!” He tries to stand, groaning loudly as he holds his side.
“Stop moving! Stop! Y/N taught me how to stitch people up, just lay down!” Miles ordered the older Spider-Man, forcing him to lay back as he grabbed the medical supplies.
“There’s no point, they’ll heal soon enough, I need to get home. Y/N is going to kill me!” He quickly stood, the gashes already getting smaller and less deep. “Let’s go!”
Miles groans. “Am I the babysitter or you?!”
He swung after him, Peter quickly swinging into your room and looking through the dresser that held his clothes. “Oh, come on! Y/N moved my clothes around.”
“Y/N does your laundry?” Miles asks, groaning. “Do you not how in love with you she is?!”
“We switch on laundry duty! It was her weekend so I cooked,” he grabbed a button down, groaning. “Thank fuck she washed my favorite.”
He grabs some new underwear from the drawer, smiles face palming as he rushes to the restroom to get changed. “You're going to bleed through that!”
“No I’m not!” He yelled back, walking out in his new clothes. “I covered the stuff with gauzes.”
“Okay, go upstairs, I’m going to swing up to my room and change, alright?”
He nodded. “Right.”
They both went to Miles’ apartment in different ways, Peter knocking on the door and when it swung open, he smiled at you. You gasped when you saw his gashed face, quickly reaching up. “What happened?!”
“Bank robbery, I passed out on top of a building. So sorry I’m late.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. “Dinner going well?”
“I-I made a salsa, are you okay?” Your hands quickly cup his face, twisting and turning as you sigh. “Rio’s going to freak! God fuck, Peter!”
He laughed. “You have no reason to worry, honey. I’ll just say I… ran into a tree.”
“A tree?!”
“Look at that! Peter’s here!” Miles yelled, running forward. “Let’s eat!”
When everyone sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was a little off. “I uhm… how is work, Y/N?”
You clear your throat, nodding at Rio’s question. “It’s going really well! I’m really happy there.”
“Peter, you moved in with Y/N already?” Jefferson asked, scooping food into his mouth. “It’s about time.”
“What do you mean?” Peter paused his actions of stuffing his face, tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“Well… you both are dating, right?” Rio asked, looking over at Miles. “Mijo always told us you were…”
“No, we’re not,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “But Peter does basically live with me! He does my laundry, cooks, you know, normal stuff.”
“Normal… couple stuff,” Rio filled in. “You pay rent too?”
“I-I tried, but Y/N didn’t let me,” Peter says softly, shrugging. “She said that she didn’t need my help with it.”
It goes quiet for a minute before Miles laughs awkwardly. “Hey, guys! I passed my biology test!”
You smiled when Miles saved you both from the awkward moment, cheering as everyone continued to talk about how they knew Miles was going to pass. Peter wasn’t that into the conversation, he was extremely preoccupied.
You both did do a lot of couple stuff.
For fucks sake, you both even slept with each other. Why weren’t you both dating, why?
When dinner was done and a few drinks were put in after Rio forced Miles to go to bed, you both went back up to your shared apartment. You giggled as you opened the door, smiling back at him. “Do you want to watch a movie or go straight to sleep, what do you want to do?”
“Can I talk to you, Y/N?” He slowly takes your hand, pulling you toward your room.
You giggled, shrugging. “Well, straight to sleep it is then.”
He sat on the bed, parting his legs and pulling you between them making you giggle. “Everything okay?” You whisper, pushing his hair back as you leaned down to press your forehead to his. “I know something’s not. What’s up?”
“Why did you say we’re not dating?” He pouts up at you, a giggle falling from your lips. “Hey, it’s not funny! We… we do things that couples do, why aren’t we a couple? I know… I know you might not-”
“For fucks sake Peter, shut up.”
He gasped as you pulled his face up, your lips pressing to his as your nails softly press into his skin, soft but firm all at once. He groaned loudly, his hands pulling you closer before you pulled away, a whine falling from his lips. “What’re you doing?”
His words were almost slurred together even though the alcohol he drank had little to no effect on him. It makes you laugh as he leaned up, pressing more kisses to your lips before he pulled your body solidly against his own, fixing your position so that you sat on his lap and your hands were around his neck. “What baby, you don’t want me to stop kissing you?”
He hummed, shaking his head. “No, you can’t… ‘s unfair.”
You started to laugh even harder as he basically whined, trying to pull you down for more kisses. You hummed as he started to lay back, hands pushing through his hair. “I need you… I need you, Y/N.”
You rose a brow, rolling your hips into his. “Need? Need’s a big word, baby,” you respond, smiling down at him as he groaned into your neck. He shifts you both so that you were laying on your back, leaning down to keep kissing your lips.
He was addicted, now that he had one taste, he never wanted to stop. His tongue pushed into your mouth, desperately swirling his own around yours as you groaned into his mouth, the minute he pulled away was when you swallowed the mixed saliva gathered at the back of your throat. You hummed as he leaned down, his lips pressing to your for a quick kiss, going over and over again with small breaks in between.
“Peter,” you giggled, his mere hum the only proof he was listening. “Are you just going to kiss me or are you going to get a little adventurous?”
He pauses, tilting his head. “Adventurous?”
You laughed. “Fuck, my beautiful idiot,” you pulled him down for another kiss, your teeth grazing his deliciously making him groan before you pulled away. “You can put that mouth to better use somewhere else.”
He paused, his mind taking a minute to process. “Oh. Oh, yeah!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly pressed one last kiss to your lips before letting his lips slowly, slowly trail down your body while slipping off your clothes, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire on your now bare body. He paused as he stared down at you, his eyes dark and pupils blown as he inhaled.
“So fucking beautiful.”
His words make you groan, hands pushing your thighs apart as his head slowly pushes between them, his mouth already hot on your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue already exploring your wetness and his fingers pushing into your slit, smearing all of it up and down before settling it on your clit.
He wasted no time, groaning as your hands thread through his hair, holding onto his brown curls like the were handles and your thighs settling on his shoulders. He paused though, pulling away making you whine softly, head tilted again. “This is okay, right? I should’ve asked.”
Fuck, why was he so fucking adorable? “Yes honey, this is okay. More than okay.”
He smiled widely, biting his lip. “Good, because your cunt tastes even better than your mouth.”
You gasped as he pushed his face between your legs again, his lips latching on your clit as he pushed a finger inside of you. Your back arches, eyes widening before they roll back into your head, his finger pushing and pumping trying to find the right rhythm, teasing you. He gasps as you tug on his hair, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he groans against your clit, the vibrations making you shiver.
“F-Fuck, Peter.”
He hummed, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his finger, curling it inside of you to feel your body writhe underneath his touch. His eyes roll back as a shiver runs down his back, groaning into your clit that he never let his mouth off of for too long, only shifting his head to get into a new angle. You tasted so fucking good, your swollen clit evidence of his torment, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t describe, he could feel you, all of you.
He could feel every clench of your walls, every shiver that ran up your back. He could hear every stutter of your breath, the skip of your heartbeat, every soft whimper you tried to hide as that one finger continues to find every pleasure spot that not even you knew existed. He could taste you with every lick, every suck of his mouth, his teeth even grazing your sensitive skin if he got too focused.
He finally pulls away from your clit, a thick string of saliva attaching your swollen bud of muscles to his lips, your hips bucking as he stares at your greedy cunt trying to suck his fingers back in every time he pulls out. He groans loudly as the shiver running down his back gets stronger, and the twisting of your stomach turns tight, your thighs shaking as your hips rut into his fingers until his mouth joins the actions of sucking on your entrance as another finger attempts to push into your pussy.
You gasped as your hips bucked without warning, your spongy walls enveloping both of his digits, and your mind blurring from how hard the orgasm hits you. Peter doesn’t even stop though, groans falling from his lips as he pulls out his fingers making you whine, your attempts to ride your hips into them failing. His tongue pushes into you though, a gasp leaving your lips as you automatically tighten your thighs around his head, not that he was complaining.
He could be like this for hours, his tongue pushing into you as his thumb rubbed circles into your overly-sensitive and swollen clit, hard but focused and his fingers pushed back into you. His tongue never stopped moving though, flicking and lapping, his mouth sucking and popping sensually against your pussy, groans that sent vibrations from your pussy straight to the growing knot in your stomach making you whine.
You had just cum, but it wasn’t like he had probably even cared about what it would do to your body, how sensitive it would make your body to every movement he made. His mouth sucked on the opening of your cunt, opening his mouth wide to push his tongue into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your fingers tug on his hair, whimpering as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer with his other hand, his tongue thrusting into you as far as he could, an ache forming in his jaw as he tried to get his mouth anywhere and everywhere on your body.
He could feel the sparking along his spine again, your stomach clenching all over again as his fingers rubbed against that sensitive spot inside of you. His fingers twist, curling inside of you as he tries to push another finger into you, the stretch making you scream out as a shiver runs down his spine, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he swallows everything leaking out of your cunt.
He wanted more. He wanted to taste everything coming from your cunt, everything you had, just everything. He didn’t want to stop, his third digit pushing into you and the squelching filled his ears, his breathing heavy and panting into your cunt. His thumb continues its torment on your clit, rubbing and the shocks running through your body as your thighs shake and fingers shakily scratch against his scalp.
Your body was coated in sweat, stomach tight as his fingers edged you onto the climax of another orgasm, they always came quick after the first. Your body was sensitive all from him, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air of your room, bottom lip bitten raw from trying to hold back your moans before he squeezed at your clit - the only thing he needed to do to get you to start moaning out for him.
He loved the sounds you made, getting drunk off of your moans and whines combined with the taste of your arousal and your cunt making his dick hard and his senses overflow. He pushed his three fingers into you as deep as he could, all the way to his knuckles to watch your cunt convulse and feel those same sparks on his spine.
“Peter! Peter wait, Peter- fuck!”
Your third orgasm brought you to tears, vision going black as you squeezed your thighs together, hands gripping his chestnut curls as you tried to steady your breathing. He hummed into your cunt, softly patting your clit making you yelp in surprise, parting your legs to watch as he slowly pulled away. “Are you alright?”
You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. “Y-You… you just ate me out and made me cum three times and you’re asking if I’m alright?”
His brows furrowed as he leaned up, wiping his mouth before licking the back of his hand where all your juices went and kissing under your eyes. He was careful not to get too close to your actual eyes, just in case, only kissing where tears fell. “You’re crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck after he slowly pulled off his shirt and tugged his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. “I’m crying out of pleasure. You make me feel so good, Peter.”
He smiled widely down at you, leaning lower to press another kiss to your lips. “Well, I want to make you feel better. Especially with how good you’re making me feel, princess, you make me feel so good. Make me so happy.”
“W-Wait!” Your voice was loud, surprising him as he stared up at you in confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I… I want to ride you. Please?”
He pauses, but nods with a smile. “Alright. But you can’t be gentle. Don’t be gentle. I want it all.”
You nodded, laughing loudly as he twisted you both over, helping you steady yourself over his aching cock. It was long, thick and veiny, tip red and leaking precum in desperation as he whined, bucking his hips. You giggled, slowly wrapping your hand around his before he nodded and watched as you slowly sunk down.
You gasped, nodding as he slowly pushed into you, his head tilting back and his mouth falling open. Your eyes rolled back into your head, vision blurring as his girth stretched you out even more, every time you thought he bottomed out the more he kept pushing. You whined loudly, hands pushing against his chest as he groaned loudly, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.
His body was sheening with sweat, a smile blooming on his face as you dug your nails into his chest, scratching against his skin as you tried to compose himself. This is what he wanted when he wanted you to claim him, he wanted your nails to scratch on his body, your mouth to leave hickies and bite marks, he wanted to be yours.
He watched as you slowly started to bounce on his cock, his eyes staring at your bouncing tits before letting them wander down your body, staring at the bulge on your lower stomach. He hissed loudly as you got harder, fixing your position as your clit rubbed against his pelvis, eyes rolling back.
Your cunt felt just as good wrapped around his cock as it did wrapped around his tongue and fingers, every movement had it squelching and convulsing around his shaft, loud groans falling from his lips as his large hands settled on your hips, thumbs settling on that giant bulge on your stomach.
He watched your mouth fall open as you screamed out, fixing both of your positions to buck his hips up into you and watch your boys fall forward. He kept your body against his, flipping you both over to wrap his arm around your body and press his face into your neck, groaning loudly into your skin as your nails dragged against his back.
He thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to find his climax as your body bounced with this thrusts, loud moans leaving your lips with each thrust and his name falling from your lips over and over. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good. Your cunt is so fucking good baby, I love the way you feel around my dick,” he groans, gasping as your mouth pressed to his skin. “Fuck, fuck yes princess, I want to be covered in you. Want your hickies and your kisses, your scratches and your bites, I don’t care, I want to be covered in you.”
You obviously didn’t expect him to be so into marking, but of course, you weren’t going to say no. You sucked bright purple marks on his skin, digging your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams as the bed slammed into the wall, the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin echoing against the wall was enough chorus of your sex.
You could feel his dick driving into the deepest parts of you, stretching your cunt so that if you looked down you could see the bulge that just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed against your clit, whispers of praise falling from his tongue as those same sparks ran up his spine, his stupid little mind finally connecting the dots. “Are you about to cum? Are you about to cum baby?”
You nodded your head into his marked up neck, your tongue slowly licking against the bite mark on his neck as you whined into his neck. “Fuck, fuck Peter! Fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”
“Yes you can baby, you can,” he whispers, pulling away to hold your chin. “Look at me fucking you baby, don’t you want me to keep fucking you? I’ll make you feel better than you make me feel, I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll pump all my cum inside of you and you’ll be such a perfect girl for me and take all of it, right?”
Your eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open as you nodded mindlessly. “Yes! Yes, I will, I’ll take all of it!”
“Fuck, fuck Y/N, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to cum inside of you, fill you up and watch all of my cum make your stomach bulge,” his voice gets huskier, almost like a growl as his thrusts get rougher, messier. “Fucking hell!”
You screamed this time, watching as he completely pulled out of you just to slam back in, your mind blurring as he continued to pull out and slam back in. You could feel your thighs shaking, that knot in your stomach threatening to break. “Peter, Peter! I’m going to cum, I need to cum!”
“No!” He whined, shaking his head as he started to get faster, his hips rough as his hands held your sides, eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna cum, cum with me. Please honey, I want to feel you, I need it.”
A final scream falls from your lips as he bottoms out, eyes rolling back and body shaking as your fourth orgasm absolutely blurred your mind, endless babbles leaving your lips as he panted above you. He stared down at your stomach, the bulge that shouldn’t have been able to get bigger successfully larger. “Fuck honey, look at what I did to your pretty tummy.”
You did, your mind still slightly hazy, but your mouth fell open when you saw the bulge and a whine fell from your lips. “Y-You’re still hard.”
He smiled. “It’s from the spider bite.”
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mating szn
PART 2‼️ (part 1)
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: horny miguel, smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected p-i-v, breeding kink, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating, descriptions of oral sex (f!receiving), rough sex
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
Stumbling and yelping in sync with his heavy footsteps catching up fast, you reach the first floor.
Before you get to offer yourself a fraction of a second to decide your next move, the hallway carpet curls up under your feet, slipping behind as your arms instinctively shoot forward for you to catch yourself.
Bringing one knee to your chest, you're prepared to launch yourself forward like an olympic runner.
Too bad.
Miguel's broad hands grip your waist from behind, once again sending jolts of adrenaline throughout your entire system.
You scream in delight through playful giggles, calling out his name breathlessly and maliciously arching into his hold.
You're getting wetter by the second seeing just how horny he is.
He pushes you down, forcing you on both knees. The deep pants from the chase quickly turn into something else as you feel his weight on your back, feel him get on one knee behind you.
His grip on your waist tightens. He brings his crotch up to your ass, grinding his erection up and down your clothed slit.
His hips roll slowly, rubbing the thick shaft of his hard-on lazily and mindlessly, the motions shallow and enticing.
"Ah, come on, baby", He leans forward, nuzzling his face into your soft hair, basking in the slightly-sweet, flowery scent of your shampoo. With a messy kiss to your neck, he speaks, raspy with need,
"Can't help it." More wet, sloppy kisses to your neck, more thrusts of his rock hard cock against your drenched folds through the thin material of your panties and his boxers. "I need, I need - ugh" the words fail to form as his hot breath hits the back of your neck, followed by more kisses and bites.
He brings a hand to the meat of your right thigh, grabbing harshly. He then lets it slip up over the mound of your pussy, cupping you and pushing two fingers over your folds, still stopped by your panties. You shiver at the feeling of his huge, warm palm touching your core so pervertedly, so desperately.
He can feel the wet patch on the cotton fabric, proof of reciprocated desire.
His senses once again catch the unmistakable, ever so dearly intoxicating aroma of you, so ready for him. His eyes roll back with a silent inhale, his bare chest rising and falling on your back.
He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your plush thighs and lap at your essence, pussy-drunk and keen on overstimulating you; licking and sucking at your clit, circling around your damp folds with his tongue until you're pushing him away, begging for a break, swollen and exhausted.
He can almost imagine you, tangling your fingers in his hair, pushing and pulling, either smothering him into your velvety cunt, needy and on the edge, or trying to escape his grip. He'd only hold you down, burly arms curling around your legs, just so he could make you come again, to feel you pulsate, feel your juices coat his mouth.
But with the way his cock twitches, begging for friction and stimulation, he can't think straight.
He feels an overwhelming urge to shove himself inside you and fill you with his cum, to see his cock rearranging your guts through your belly, to empty his balls in your womb and watch his seed dribble out of you, and push it back in with his still hard cock, hold it there so that it takes.
His warm, eager hands travel down to your panties, and in their loose hold as he attempts to drag them down your thighs, you once again snake away, giggling with a sardonic grin that doesn't do well in covering up the desire evident on your features.
"¡Mierda!" He grunts, and you enter the bedroom, reaching the balcony door and turning around. You catch the sight of Miguel clawing at the door frame to take the turn and come in faster.
Before you can react and take your eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts, the defined shape of his dick protruding erotically against the material, he pounces, caging you against the wall, distancing your legs far apart with one knee.
His palms slip to your sides, not missing the savory opportunity to settle on the sides of your tits. He fondles their softness with the heels of his hands, pushing them together, pressing his whole body into yours.
You let out a barely audible moan as he corners you, almost squeezing you between his muscular frame and the wall behind you, and he almost loses all that's left of his sanity.
He kisses your temple, full of yearning. Although, he's instantly reminded that his scent has worn off of your feverish skin.
"Por favor,-" a deep groan vibrates in his chest against you, making you quiver.
"He estado cachondo todo el día," (I've been horny all day). He holds you tight against him, your tender breasts pressed flush against his pecs.
"No podía pensar en nada más que en ti" (I couldn't think of anything but you.)
You finally give in and offer a smidge of relief, sliding your hand down to grab his clothed hard cock. The second he feels you palm him tentatively, he reflexively starts rubbing himself on your hand like an animal in heat, groaning ruggedly.
"That's it." He rasps, fed up, and it's almost a threat.
He slowly walks over to the bed with you secure in his arms, but when his knees hit the frame, he doesn't drop you like he normally would. No. He's not giving you another chance to flee. A part of him loves the cat-and-mouse game he knows you enjoy so much, but the other part can already feel his fat, full balls turning blue.
Placing you down, hands still gripping your waist viciously, he gets on the bed, the mattress sinking down under his weight.
You feel your clit throb as he traps you with his thighs, taking your shirt off. His touch leaves goosebumps over your silky skin.
Under your hazy gaze fixed on his movements, he hovers above you, skipping the usual looks of adoration. Not that the sentiments were gone by any means, but he was far too needy to wait any longer.
The kiss he suffocates you with is fiery, full of all the pent up tension he had to endure.
As his mouth moves against yours eagerly and messily, you notice how it lacks his characteristic expert, methodical approach.
His lips were just as soft as ever, but devoured your every moan and breath with a fervor unfamiliar. His tongue slips past the liplock, dominating you in no time, and right when you start to adjust to the new strategy, catching up with his movements, he parts from you, breaking the kiss and sucking your soul out of you with it.
He continues his attack down your throat, biting and licking hurriedly, marking you as his.
Groaning freely, he reaches your breasts, taking them in his mouth, one after the other. His hands squeeze, roam and play with them, making you bite down on your lower lip and whine beneath him.
He suckles on the perked nipples, releasing them to catch his breath with another gravel moan. When he's done, your chest is coated in his spit; fresh, hickies already blooming over your tender tits.
The weight of his cock settles on your thigh, pressed snugly and oozing precum through a dark spot on his boxers.
Your own hands attach to his silky dark hair, caressing and brushing wild strands away from his forehead, clinging and pulling occasionally when he latches onto your breasts again after taking a few deep breaths.
Sliding lower, impatiently licking and biting over the line of your stomach, he finally gets to your panties.
He kisses the soft lips of your pussy through the fabric, the scent of your arousal driving him mad. He groans again, words slurred through the desperate, obscene licks, "Eres.." He extends his tongue, lapping up at the dampness, "..tan bonita." (You're so pretty)
Your heels are digging into his shoulder blades as you squirm and moan under his sultry touch. Through half lidded eyes, you see him bare his pearl white fangs, as if prepared to sink them into your sensitive skin.
You gasp, a little above a moan.
"Miguel! Don't - ah" You whimper as he grits his teeth around the elastic of your panties, tearing them in two with the help of one hand.
He grabs your thighs, kneeling between your legs.
Shoving his hand in his shorts, he takes his dick out, its mushroom head glistening mauve. He begins to stroke it more violently than you thought he would've taken pleasure in.
Mouth agape, pupils blown wide, he looks downright primal. Solely focused on claiming you, on stuffing you full of his potent seed, of draining his fat balls in your warm cunt until you're begging him to stop through ablaze overstimulation.
Cock in hand, incontestably massive encompassed by his proportionally large fingers, he slaps the hard, angered, heavy shaft on your tender folds, groaning at the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He rubs it over your lips, drenching it in your juices.
You notice his thighs flex, already insanely sensitive. When he eases the head in, he moans, rough and low in his throat, brows creased in pained pleasure. You whimper his name, legs quivering faintly on each side of his waist.
Using his weight to press your body down into the mattress, forcing you onto him, he slides his arms underneath your knees, throwing them over his shoulders and bending you in half.
A shiver bursts through you at the sensation. You clench around him, forcing a strangled groan out of his throat.
He braces himself down on his forearms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. Pushing in, the bulbous tip of his cock kisses your cervix as he bottoms out and gets straight to a tireless pace, not giving you the ritualistic second to adjust.
The bed creaks and squeaks with the way he's throwing himself into your cunt, pounding you into the soft cushions relentlessly.
His hips gyrate roughly against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you, dipping his meaty cock in your juices with an obscene, wet squelching, finishing each delicious swing with a quicker entry, more forceful and animalistic. His pubes brush harshly against your engorged, swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity through your core.
Skipping the tension, the build-up of speed, he drives straight to the euphoric rhythm of a release chase. His balls slap onto your ass, his pelvic bone nearly delivering bruising slams against your own.
“Ugh, oh Miguel-,” you gasp for more air, struggling to form a coherent sentence through delirium, your breaths and moans rhythmically timed by his rough thrusts.
You curl your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and shoulders. He looks down at you, watching your breasts bounce in his face, and starts rutting harder into you, every ridge and vein of his fat cock brushing against your sensitive spots perfectly.
Each time you call for him, it's a melody, a rapturous chant that has him on his knees, his mind in cobwebs, his heart aching; and for the time being, his cock throbbing as well.
"I'm - ah! Cumming!Ugh, M- Mig- uel- !" You moan sharply, your orgasm rapidly threatening to burst like fireworks.
He frowns, panting, shallow breaths hot over your face. You convulse under his massive body, arching your back, squeezing your tits flush against his feverish skin.
He feels your pussy flutter around his cock, milking him and sucking him in. He groans loudly in your ear, pace faltering ever so slightly. The headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the room wall, spurring your orgasm on with the reminder of the force of the man above you.
With one final thrust, his whole body tenses. He pushes forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, dumping his load in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips. You feel his dick pulsate inside you with each new spurt of cum, the remnants of your own climax making you clench around him reflexively.
He stills, relief washing over him. Meeting your gaze, he watches how you come back to your senses, the blinding lust replaced by love and admiration.
He grabs your waist and pulls you down with him, laying you on his chest, his softening cock still inside you.
You close your eyes, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Dinner long forgotten.
divider by @cafekitsune
a/n: did my best here. the tags deadass took longer than the writing
TAGS
@thel0velykey190 @allysunny @weirdothatwritess @animechick93 @6thhokageswife @spookydragonsong @aisyakirmann @playmatenextdoor @skulfan1 @sat10 @2joos2cry @2099hitmylineyline @aiyaaayei @holographicang3l @heartfairy @cyberbugg @freehentai @acrazybiotch374 @theywhowriteandknowthings @shinyberry69 @pluviophilis @barely-thriving23 @realalpacorn @thekidscallmebosss @hrlzy @m4dyy @cringeycookies @tendoswifi @greatheartattacks @reborn-rekall @darksidescorner @yehet-moi-ohorat @poeticmoonspirit @kth137
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#miguel o hara#atsv miguel#miguel smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o’hara smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#across the spiderverse#spider verse
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words
fic masterlist previous five pt six next part
mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.
You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”
“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.
“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”
“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”
“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”
“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”
“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”
You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”
Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”
“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.
“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”
“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.
“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.
“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”
“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”
“And it still is.”
“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”
“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.
“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.
But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”
“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”
You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.
“Many people use phones for different thin—“
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’
“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.
“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”
“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.
“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”
“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.
“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.
“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”
“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.
“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.
“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.
“Am I?” He again prays innocence.
“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”
“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.
“What?”
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.
“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.
“Find what strange?”
“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
“I’m not following.” You say slowly.
“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.
“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.
“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“
But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.
“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”
“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
“Quiero ir a la feria.”
“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.
“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.
You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.
“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.
Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.
Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…
“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”
“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.
He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”
“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”
You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6
#the miguel effect#miguel o’hara one shot#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara smut#atsv#spiderman atsv#across the spiderverse#across the spider verse#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman 2099#spiderman
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Take a seat || Miguel O'hara
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: Never in your wildest dream did you imagine having your husband ask you to sit on his face.
Tags: Face sitting, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, smut, NOT BETA READ.
Words: 1.2k
saw someone plead for this one lmao. They asked so nicely so I delivered, idk if this is how it usually goes tbh. This shit's so rushed but I guess I have to squeeze everything out before school starts again tomorrow aaaaaaaaaa
other than that, enjoy! Thank you all for your love on my fics aaaaaaaaaa im running out of header pics da;flkhwah
mi vida - my life || dios mio - my god || mi bella esposa - my beautiful wife || cariño - honey
“You want me to do what now?”
Miguel sighed exasperatedly as he facepalmed, embarrassed. “Don’t make me repeat mys—”
“No no no, I heard you loud and clear.” Which doesn’t mean you understand why all of a sudden. “But why?”
“Should I have any reason why I want you to sit on my face?”
In a gazillion universe, you’d never thought you’d hear those words come out of his lips. Sitting on his lap, you stared at the man incredulously to which he scowled at.
Usually, oral between you both are usually done with you underneath him as he pinned your thighs open and wide for him since he likes the control. To hear him ask you to sit on his face mid-foreplay shocked you.
You pinched your thigh, unconvinced by his sudden change of mind and Miguel sighed once more.
“Is it that hard to believe? Dios mio, if you don’t want to do it, just say it—”
“No no no, lay back down, I’m just processing.”
Excitement thrummed madly in your veins as you pushed the man back into the mattress. Excitement got you removing your underwear in a second before sitting back on his chest. It’s not fast enough apparently, when his strong arms hook under your legs and pull you directly on top of his lips.
Your breath got stuck into your throat. The mere feeling of his hot breath on your skin caused ripples of heat from your abdomen to your fingertips. You’ve always had orals before, it was something he’d never forget, yet there was something about sitting on top of his face that got you aroused more than ever.
“Go any slower and I would’ve thought you’d want to back out.”
“Not my fault. You’re so impatient.”
“A pretty girl sat on top of me, naked and wet, begging to be devoured. Do you think I’d ignore you, mi bella esposa?”
His dark voice, along with his fogged red eyes staring at you through his eyelash sent shivers down your spine, cheeks flushing beet red. You almost slapped the growing smirk off of his face at your flustered state.
“You’re so annoying.”
“And you smell absolutely delicious.”
His arms locked around your thighs and you immediately knew you were done.
His tongue felt like silk gliding through your folds before rolling your clit in figures of eight. You sighed, throwing your head back as pleasure slithered down your spine at his every exhale fanning your skin.
There was something about the stings his stubbles brings as it scratches your skin along with the stimulation of his tongue that drive you crazy.
You swear you’re not a masochist by any means, yet when it comes to Miguel, every joy, sadness, pain and pleasure felt like a reward from the high heavens that you couldn’t help but accept with gratitude.
Your hand found stability in his dark locks, pulling and tugging his head closer to your heat, causing him to groan, the vibration seeping into your bones.
His hands roamed your body as if desperate to find a treasure in the unknown, nails dragging the skin from your back and down to the globes of your ass. The sting they left in their wake stirs your nerves awake, the pain mixing in with pleasure. You sighed, falling to lean on the piles of pillows as you dragged your clit with the point of his tongue.
Miguel wandered lower, tongue rolling around the rim of your entrance, sending electric jolts down your legs. You shivered as the sensation of his fangs rubbing against your folds, always so close yet so far away.
You gasped when the appendage plunged into your entrance, his large nose pushing into your clit as he pulled you closer to his face.
“Fuck…!”
“You taste divine.” He groaned. “Give me more.”
Bringing his hand down hard onto your ass, you whined. The stinging pain it left had your body singing for more and you knew Miguel was aware of the effect it has on you with how hard you clench on his silky appendage.
“Move.”
“Huh?”
Another sharp slap echoed in the living room, harder than the one earlier and you cried, hips stuttering forward on his flattened tongue.
“Ride me, cariño. Like you’ve always wanted.”
And you swear you’ve never heard anything more romantic than that.
With a smidge of hesitance, fearing you’d suffocate him, you rolled yourself on his tongue, eyes locked onto his darkened ones that dripped with desire. Still unsatisfied, his hand lands another hit on your skin and you move more desperately against him.
You cry as he starts to pick up the pace of his tongue, putting pressure onto your bead and shaking his head aggressively underneath you. He swats you once more when your hips stutter from the stimulation before clawing your flesh and grounding you further into his mouth.
“Harder.”
“I’m trying—Ah!”
Sneaking a hand below, he immediately inserts two digits inside of you. He spared no time hastening the speed of his thrusts while licking enthusiastically onto your clit making your eyes roll back.
Chasing the pleasure his fingers and mouth offered you, your hips rolled uncontrollably against his face. The obscene squelch echoing in the room would have embarrassed you, yet you couldn’t find it in you to flush.
The tight knot in your abdomen tightens as heat explodes from your chest and reaches down the tips of your limbs. You couldn’t do anything but cry as you tether closer to nirvana.
“I-I’m close.”
“Come for me, mi vida. Give it to me. I want it all.”
With his grounding arm reaching up to rake through your back along with his fingers and tongue, the knot unfurls and you come with a cry.
Suddenly, he had both arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from fluttering away from his ministrations. You gasped and pushed at his head but he paid no heed to them, rolling and shaking his tongue onto your clit as if trying to coax another climax from you.
“Miguel…!”
His nails digging into your flesh was the only answer you received and maybe the tug on his lips at your trembling thighs as well. It didn’t take long before pain started to blur with pleasure and your hips rocked against his tongue despite the protest of your heat with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding on for dear life onto the headboard.
You didn’t have the mind to worry about his nose being blocked by your mon pubis, focused solely on your orgasm. With how he ground your hips onto his lips, you knew he didn’t mind.
And with a weak shout, you unravel, flesh and bones, on top of him. There’s a sound of something breaking in the haze, but paid no heed to it as you fall bonelessly onto the mattress. Miguel pulls away, gasping for air just as you turn to face the ceiling.
Your arousal drenching his face evoked something feral within you, the simmering desire in your stomach stirring awake once more. His eyes turned to the headboard and chuckled, reaching over to run his fingers over the dent with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I guess a Spider-Man will always be a Spider-Man.”
“Oh shut up.” You groaned, chucking a pillow on his face.
#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#spiderman smut#spider man fics#spider man smut#marvel fics#marvel smut
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Thinkin abt Dad Bod!Miguel…
Ft. Daddy, Praise, n Size kink!!! (Duh.)
[NSFW]
You leave the classroom after enduring the most stupid 3 hour 8am lecture that you needed for a stupid credit for the stupid degree that you cried and prayed for.
Your spirit is immediately lifted once you see your boyfie waiting outside of the building for you, the six-foot-nine man leaning against his car like a total poser. His burly arms are crossed, which makes his pecs bulge through his shirt even more. In your opinion, he fills out his button-up perfectly; the short sleeves barely able to contain his biceps, the hairs of his chest peeking out the first three open buttons… and his soft belly. Perfect for naps. You couldn’t see it from here, but you just knew his ass was lookin good in those jeans, too. You crash into his arms, kisses planted on your head. “Missed you today, mamita.” He mumbles into your hair. “Missed you more, baby. Now, please, take me home.”
You step in the house and face plant onto the couch. You could’ve fallen asleep right there, but you feel a breath on your ear, “Mamita, aye…”, you lift your head with a “hm?” toward the gentle voice, “Mama, ven a la cama… será mejor que’l sofá, beba… ven, ven…” you let out a small ‘Mph’ when you’re peeled off the couch. Miguel scoops you up bridle style, as if you were a feather, and takes you to the bedroom.
Once you sluggishly remove your clothes, down to your panties and tank top, you, again, face plant into what feels like heaven (your bed). Miguel goes to change so that he’s just wearing his boxers. He stops in front of the full-body mirror, looking at himself. His muscles are still there, but he isn’t too happy with what he sees, having gained some weight since being with you, but more importantly, he wonders if you think the same. Even a little bit.
You smile to yourself as you feel the stomach of your lover pressed against your back, wrapping you with his strong, hairy arms and entangling his thick legs with yours, cocooning you in a bundle of warmth. “Comfy, mamita?” He presses a tender kiss on your temple. You sleepily nod your head against the pillow, blissful in your position as little spoon. There’s a moment of peaceful silence as his calloused hand starts to affectionately rub your back under the tank top.
The thought still eats at him, though.
“Bebe…”
“hm?”
“Esta feliz conmigo?”
“What?” Your head snaps up toward him. There’s genuine concern in your voice.
“I love you, that’s no question, but if you want to have your college fun, you should be able to. I don't want you to miss out on experiences because of… me. ” You sit up now, looking at him with furrowed brows, “What’re you talking about?” He looks down at the bare skin of your thigh, a deep, discouraged sigh escaping his lips as his pointer finger caresses the skin there, “I just want you to be happy. More than anything.”
In one swift motion, you straddle him. “Missing what? Those dumb frat parties filled with little boys who wouldn’t know how to handle me? You’re so silly, baby.” You press a tongue-filled kiss on his lips, and a low growl erupts in his throat. “Ugh, I’d miss out on a million parties if it meant having all this.” You murmur against his lips before starting a trail of kisses down his torso, even with an occasional nibble, the warmth and hair of his skin meeting your lips the whole way down. You worshipped every inch of his thick body with your lips, all the way from his broad and hairy chest, his stretch marks, to his chubby midriff, down his mouth-watering happy trail, and finally to the hem of his boxers, where a bulge began to form.
You look up and give him a sultry look, “No college boy could ever compare to my fine ass hubby." His voice becomes strained, breath labored as you take your index finger and rub precise circles on his wet tip through his boxers, making him hiss. “fuck, mami… what did I do to deserve you? Eres una Bendicion, tu sabes?”, he caresses your cheek with his thumb, “Scored a fucking goddess… I’m so fuckin’ lucky. No sé cómo conseguí una mujer como tú..” he coos.
"And you’re so big n’ strong n’ handsome, Daddy. I love it.” Your voice combined with your touch made his dick twitch, his now angry tip slightly peeking out. You fail to fight back a small moan when you release his pretty cock from the confines of his boxers, it springing against his lower belly. Drool began to form in your mouth. You haven’t even tasted it and you were already cock drunk. “love this cock s’much…so perfect.” you mewl as you slowly begin pumping his cock. Miguel pathetically looks down at you; The prettiest girl in the world showing him the attention he doesn’t feel worthy of but oh so deserves. “Awe, You want daddy’s cock, don’t you, baby?” He tuts, his voice all sweet and pouty.
“Mhm,” you nod, a meek expression on your face.
“Let me show my man just how happy I am to be his.”
And any self-doubt that Miguel had about you being with him was poof! Gone.
*sighs* He sew cewt. Hope u liked it <3
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
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Come Back to Me
Stay Away From Him pt. 2
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Prompt: Miguel has been away on a mission for too long and he comes back different.
A/N: I LOVE YOU GUYS! I am so happy that you guys loved part 1 so much that I knew I had to write some more. 99.99% of everyone asked for fluff, but unfortunately for everyone, I excel in tension and dramatic ass scenes. This scenario literally came to me in my dreams so I had to write it. I'm tagging everyone that left me a message or mentioned they would like a part 2. I hope you guys like it and don't hate me if you don't!
For new readers, welcome! You do not need to read part 1 to understand this part. If you guys hate this part, I will write more and I'll write some fluff to make up for it lol
Part 1
Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, you roll your shoulders and stretch out your muscles. You were inside Miguel’s chamber at your desk where you work. It was quiet there, only a few people were working about but none were talking above hushed whispers. Looking over the top of your monitor to see who was around, you notice that a few people were already looking at you before their glances shot away when you made eye contact with them. You think it was strange but you have been catching weird glances from people for a few weeks now.
Looking over at the empty dais, your heart pangs a little when you are reminded that Miguel isn’t there. It’s been about a month since your incident with Miguel. And every day since then, things have been awkward. Miguel was sending you off to help other people and giving you work that would keep you away for days at a time. He barely said a few words to you and looked at you even less.
A week after the incident happened, a mission came up and Miguel went to handle it. That was 2 weeks ago. It’s been radio silent since then. Jessica assures you that Miguel is checking in with her and everything is fine. She says that she’s been in contact with him and helping him through his mission, but still, that didn’t reassure you. Miguel always went over every mission with you. You always assisted him through every trip. You were his eyes and ears then all of a sudden he doesn’t even want to tell you he’s leaving or where he was going?
You were tempted to ask him not to go but you held your tongue. Ever since Miguel left, you had a bad feeling in your gut but you ignored it. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to me. That’s fine! If he wants to get all moody and dramatic then fine. He can check in with Jessica then. Have her run around for him. Huffing out a breath again, you refocus on the task you were working on.
You were pulled out of your focus when you heard in the distance, “Everyone, we are going into a soft lockdown. I repeat, soft lockdown. Gwen and Hobie meet up in Room 5. Keep it quiet. Y/N is still in the dark. Let’s keep it that way.” It sounded like Jessica’s voice coming through someone’s personal intercom. Picking up your own device, you check if you had accidentally turned it off since it didn’t go through yours, but it’s on. This means that Jessica purposefully sent out the message to everyone else, except for you. Y/N is still in the dark?
Pretending to stretch and yawn, you sneak a glance around the room again. The few people that were left in the room were huddled together, a few were walking out of the room urgently. But what made a shiver run up your spine was that everyone was looking at you. Everyone is hiding something from you. That is clear now. You weren’t sure what they were hiding but something in your gut is telling you it was bad. And it’s something to do with Miguel.
Room 5. She said they were meeting in Room 5. Not really sure where that is or what’s in there but it has got to explain why everyone has been acting so strangely. Standing up from your desk, the conversations in the room immediately stop and it’s utterly silent. Trying to act as normal as possible, you slowly walk out of the room.
After what felt like hours with your heart beating out of your chest, you finally found “Room 5”. Slowly creeping into the room, you can see that it is empty except for a giant cage in the middle of the room. The room is dark and there seems to be only one light directly above the cage. Surrounding the cage were Jessica, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker, and inside the cage … was Miguel.
Except, it wasn’t Miguel. The Miguel in the cage was feral and animalistic. He was hunched over and crouched down low as if he was ready to attack. His arms are held out low to his side and his claws are extended. Though Miguel is already a naturally large guy, his tensed and flexed muscles seem to be bulging out more, giving him that beast-like appearance. His hair was a completely tangled mess, wild and unkempt. His breathing is frantic and unstable. Though he looks a mess, he is standing utterly still.
This isn’t Miguel. This isn’t your Miguel. Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong.
Sneaking into the room and sticking to the shadows, no one in the room senses that you’re there. Everyone except for Miguel. As you slip into the room, he turns his head and watches you from over his shoulder but doesn’t make any other movements. Seeing him now, you could see that his lips are pulled back so that his fangs are out and on display. His eyes are wild and bloodshot red, though when he sees you, his eyes focus on you as if you’re prey. He doesn’t move and doesn’t make any sounds at you so you remain hidden from everyone else.
Everyone is oblivious to your presence and their conversation continues. Gwen is arguing with Jessica and it looks as though Peter is trying to keep the peace, though he’s not doing a good job. Hobie is casually leaning against the wall nearby giving off a nonchalant appearance but the look on his face indicates that he is upset.
“You can’t do this, Jessica! It could kill him!”
“What choice do we have? The next time he escapes, who knows what could happen. If the antidote doesn’t kill him then the poison that’s already in him will!”
“We still have time to find another way. Maybe he just needs more time and it’ll wear off.”
“Gwen, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even talk! All he does is growl and attack anyone that gets too close. This is getting out of hand!”
“Why don’t we tell, Y/N? Y/N should know about this. And you know as well as anyone else, he has a soft spot for her. Maybe she can help!”
“He’s been back for two weeks and he hasn’t gotten better. If he was going to get better he would have shown signs of it by now. If Y/N knows and he doesn’t snap out of it, how do you think Y/N would take it?”
“Why don’t you ask me?” You finally had enough and decided to make yourself known. Everyone turns abruptly as you step forward further into the room to be seen under the light.
“Two weeks?” You whisper as you look each one of them in the eyes and feeling betrayed, “He’s been back for two weeks and no one told me? None of you told me.”
Inside the cage, Miguel turns his body completely to be fully facing you now. The entire time, his eyes never leave you. Finally having the time to look him over completely, what you saw broke your heart. He looked tired but also on high alert to attack. There were dark bags under his eyes and his face seems sunken in. His eyes seem to soften slightly as he looks back at you but his face is still grimacing. While you were too busy watching him, what you didn’t see was all the knowing looks that everyone else was passing to each other.
“Not only did you keep this from me, but now I learn that you want to kill him?!” Instead of feeling hurt, now your adrenaline is kicking in. You’re feeling angry and upset and … panicked. Your mind feels like it’s on a high and you’re acting without thinking.
“No, Y/N, we aren’t killing him. We managed to create an antidote but it only has a small chance of working … and a big chance of killing him. But it’s the only choice we got!” Jessica tries to reason with you.
“And you would take that chance?” How could they even consider this an option? I have to do something and do it quick.
“We don’t have another choice.” Peter jumps in now, speaking in a calm tone.
“Let’s think about it some more.” Gwen is speaking to Jessica now and their original argument from when you first entered the room resumes. The three go back to arguing with one another and Hobie still stays on the sidelines. Except this time, he’s not watching them. He’s watching you. He’s giving you an intense look as if he was trying to tell you a message.
Slowly but pointedly, he looks at the door of the cage. Following his line of sight, you look back at the cage. The cage is locked but the key is a fingerprint pad. Which means that anyone who has clearance can open it. And you have clearance. Being Miguel’s assistant, you are allowed clearance to nearly everything he is. Looking back at Hobie, he inclines his head slightly to the cage and gives you one firm nod of confirmation.
Throwing a quick glance at the arguing three to confirm that they are preoccupied, without giving it a second thought, you take off running for the cage. Before anyone could react, you slam your hand down onto the pad. Less than a second later, you are throwing the door to the cage open and slamming it shut behind you. “Are you out of your mind?!” You hear Gwen yell at you and the others are yelling too but you’re not listening.
Now you’re staring face-to-face with a feral Miguel. Miguel has crouched low at your sudden entrance and his claws and fangs are fully on display, though he doesn’t move close to you. He’s standing still and watching you for your move. The world seems to fade away and your sole focus is on him but you could feel the flurry going on outside of the cage. But you don’t look, you keep your attention strictly on his face.
Half expecting to be mauled to death the instant you got inside the cage, you are happily surprised that Miguel seems more cautious of you at the moment. Testing your luck, you hold out both hands in front of you and take a hesitant step forward. Again to your surprise, Miguel inches back. Testing it again, you take a full step this time, and again he backs away from you.
“Careful, now.” Hobie sounds close. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see that Hobie is walking closer to the cage. Miguel lets out a low growl and your eyes shoot back to him. But looking back at him, his stance is different. He looks like he’s ready to pounce. His expression has also turned more deadly and angry. But rather than looking at you like you expected, he’s staring over your shoulder. He’s watching Hobie.
You can hear Hobie’s steps getting closer and the closer he comes, the more agitated Miguel gets. Miguel is starting to walk closer to you now but his eyes are still fixed on Hobie. Seeing that Miguel is moving towards you, Hobie says. “Y/N, I think it’s time to go. Let’s not push our luck, yeah?” Hobie is speaking in a serious tone, he’s not asking.
Without warning, Hobie shoots out his web onto your back and pulls you back towards the door. Your body is jerked back but you don’t get far because suddenly Miguel is there. He jumps forward and wraps one arm around your body and his other arm shoots to your back and slashes the web off of you. The web breaks easily under his claws and he is pulling you back further into the cage. He stops in the middle of the cage where he abruptly lays you down on the floor.
Thinking that he’s attacking you, your hands shoot up to your face but when nothing hits you, you peek through your fingers and look up at him. Miguel is crouching on all fours atop of you as you’re laid out completely on your back. His knees are straddling your thighs and his hands are on either side of your head. He is hunched low as if he was protecting your body. His face is looking up, you assume it’s towards Hobie still.
“Hey.” You whisper. He only shoots you a quick look but his head jerks back up again. Finding the courage, you try again, “Hey.” Except this time, you gingerly bring your hand up and let your fingers touch his cheek. He jerks at the touch and turns his head to look down at you. That motion puts his face firmly in your hand and now you’re cupping his face.
“Hey there, big guy.” He’s leaning into your touch and his body falls even lower. Your other hand comes up and it rests on his chest and you could feel his heart beating as if he just ran a marathon. All he does is just stare at you. You were waiting for something to happen. Maybe he’ll snap out of it and become normal again. Maybe he will just snap your neck and be done with it. But no. He doesn’t move. Just looks at you.
“Y/N, can you get out?” Jessica asks from somewhere in the room.
“I’m not going anywhere. He’s fine. Keep working on an antidote that will actually help him. I’ll keep him calm.” No one responds back to you but you can hear footsteps receding and you know that you two are now alone in the room. A few beats go by in the silence before Miguel starts showing signs of relaxing.
His lower body lowers and is laying on top of you. Miguel falls down to his elbows and it brings his face even closer to yours. He nuzzles the top of your head and you could feel the tip of his nose run through your hair as he travels down your body. Your hand that was resting on his cheek travels down his neck and lands against his chest. Your close your eyes and will yourself to keep a clear head.
The tip of his nose runs down to your cheek and he stills for just one moment when his lips graze yours. “What happened to you? I’m scared. Come back to me.” You whisper against his lips. You suck in a breath when his tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip but he doesn’t respond. One of his hands comes up to cup one side of your neck, keeping you still. His hand tightens ever so slightly there, not hard but putting enough pressure to make your heart skip.
He continues his exploration of you with the tip of his nose. His nose drags along your jawline which makes you tint your head up in response to give him more access. Taking it as an invitation, Miguel continues and comes up to your ear, and gives you a little nibble there. You notice that your breathing has turned to panting. He continues to play with your ear by tracing with his lips. Goosebumps appear on your skin as your body grows warmer and warmer. Your head feels intoxicated and no thoughts filter into your head, only your senses are alive.
You let out a loud gasp when Miguel suddenly nuzzles into your exposed neck and you could feel him smiling against your skin. His hand around your neck tightens some more and it pulls you closer. He runs his lips softly over your skin, feathering light kisses wherever he pleases. To your surprise, you feel a nick of pain on your neck and you realize that he gave you a bite with his fangs. You feel his tongue come out again and lick up the bit of blood that escapes. A shiver of excitement travels down your body and you have to mentally shake yourself. This feels wrong but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop.
“Come back to me.” You whisper again almost like a prayer this time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s many hours later, well into the night, and Jessica and Hobie came back to check on you. They’re standing side by side outside of the cage staring at the spectacle that’s in front of them. Jessica with her arms crossed in front of her chest and Hobie with his hands on his hips. “Huh. Ain’t that something?” Hobie asks.
In the middle of the cage are you and Miguel, sleeping soundly. You are curled into his front and he is curled around you like his limbs are vines. An arm is under your head, keeping you off the hard concrete floor, the other arm curled around you and wrapping up your back. His lower body is curled up tight against you. His body acting like a shield. You two fit perfectly together. Your hair was a mess and even from across the room, they could tell that your clothes were all rumpled.
“You think those two ever going figure it out?” Jessica asks.
“We’ll they haven’t so far. They wouldn’t be able to see what’s right in front of them even if a bus hit ‘em.”
She lets out a scoff of amusement, “I know. Remember when Y/N snapped at him and he was mopey for a whole week? God that was hell."
"Yeah? You shoulda seen how this one was sighing around while he was 'away'." Hobie shoots back at her with a chuckle.
"Anywho, I didn’t think the poison would’ve been that strong though. I was hoping to have this done in less than a week.”
“Eh, I might have given him a little more than we planned.”
“Of course you did,” she lets out a sigh, “Guess that explains why it took him so long to calm down. It should be wearing off soon right?”
“Yeah, day or so.”
“Good. Let’s see them try to deny their feelings after this.”
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