#spiderman 2099 smut
Text
so real
part three of congratulations series masterlist
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)
synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief
author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3
word count: 6.3k
Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures. Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!
He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.
"Miguel."
"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.
His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.
"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.
Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.
He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.
He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.
Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.
"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.
"Because I needed you."
"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."
"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."
"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.
"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"
"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."
Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."
"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.
"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."
You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.
"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."
Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.
Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.
This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.
He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.
Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.
Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.
Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.
Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.
"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.
After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.
"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.
He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.
Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.
He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.
Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.
Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.
"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,
"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."
Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.
"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.
Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.
And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.
Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.
"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.
He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.
The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.
The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.
"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.
The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.
The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.
He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.
“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”
You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.
“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”
Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.
He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'
He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.
Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.
What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.
After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.
Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.
Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.
All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.
Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.
Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.
Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.
"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.
Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.
He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.
"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.
THUMP
He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.
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#moon-rivr#Spotify#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara au#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara fanfic#miguel o’hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 atsv#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara fic#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara angst#miguel o’hara spiderverse#miguel o’hara self insert#miguel o’hara spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel spider man 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#angst
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📂 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬:
♠︎: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
♦︎: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
♣︎: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭
↳📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
↳📂 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬...
Marrying a scientist superhero has its unique perks <3 these are in chronological order
MOODBOARD!!!
Headcannons ♠︎♦︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your relationship in a nutshell
For Biology ♠︎♦︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.
Lunch Break ♠︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You catch Miguel doing something he shouldn’t while dropping off his lunch. Now you both have to face the consequences.
Stimulant ♠︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It has always been a routine for you to come into Miguel’s lab every once in a while, but this time you feel a strong sense of arousal out of nowhere.
In sickness and in health ♣︎♠︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re tired. He’s tired. There’s only so much stress you can withstand before you reach your tipping point. Luckily your husband is here to keep you grounded
Some more Biology ♦︎♠︎
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After you gave birth to your first daughter, Miguel spends the night admiring the changes that motherhood has done to your body.
#★— ayrus writes#❤︎ scientist husband ❤︎#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut
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Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader
TW: Minors DNI, what plot??? smut(handjob, praise, cum eating, Miguel is kind of a sub in this one), mention of oral sex f receiving at end) words: a little over 700
A/N: someone take my phone 😫 just wanna make him feel loved while I- [REDACTED] anyway....I can't think of a title for this either 💀 NSFW under the cut
-----
Jerking off Miguel while you shower him in praise. You'll be sitting in his lap so you're above him like the goddess you are, running your fingers through his hair with one hand while you cup his pretty face with the other, letting him knead and massage your thumb with his warm tongue while he's moaning and groaning when he feels your aching pussy grind against his cock.
"So pretty, baby...." You coo above him, letting your tits bounce in his face.
"Mmm...." His eyes widen when he feels one of your hands grip his hard cock through his boxers.
"Ah-Ah....baby..." He pleads, releasing your thumb and letting his head fall back, those beautiful rubies staring up at you.
"Aww, my baby likes this?" You purr sweetly, giving him a little squeeze and a rub with your hand.
"Mmmhhhnnn....cariño, porfa..." He babbles, eyebrows knitting together.
"Shh, Shh...." you tease, slipping your thumb back into his mouth as you caress his cock with the other, adding a little roll of your hips.
Miguel's eyelids flutter and he lets out a huge groan.
"Mmmmm.... that's it. My boy...my pretty baby..." You tilt your head, eyelids half-lidded. "So handsome...."
Miguel's lips twitch into a smile as he sucks your thumb again, cheeks turning a blooming red.
"Mmm...you're so good baby. How'd I get so lucky with you, hmm? My beautiful, beautiful boy...."
"Oh cariño please...." He pants, doing his best not to cum. "Please..."
"Please what, baby?" You breathe out, pouting your lips. "Hmm...what do you want from me, sweetheart?"
"I wanna cum...please let me cum..."
You smile and lean in, giving him a deep kiss, grinning slyly when you feel him moan at your tongue in his mouth. "Go on, baby...cum for me..."
"Ohhh cariño...ahh....shit..." He grabs you and presses little kisses onto the swells of your breasts then he lays his cheek against them, resting and holding you while he enjoys you rubbing his cock which you've now fully freed from his boxers.
Your foreheads meet, he's whimpering, quietly panting, holding onto every sweet word about him that tumbles from your lips, getting drunk off the sound of your voice.
"You're so sooo sexy when you're underneath me like this.." You emphasize each word by making each stroke of his cock drag a little slower with your soft palm.
"Mmmm!" He groans. "You...are... unbelievable...."
"I'm making my baby feel good?" You ask sweetly.
"So good..." He pants a little harder. "Keep talking like that....please, baby. N-need more..."
"Aw...." You gently tug his hair back, making him look up at you while you continue rapidly stroking his cock with your other. "My handsome boy needs to be praised?"
He nods desperately, damn near in tears from all the pleasure you're delivering from just your hand, the sight of his gorgeous girl above him spoiling his cock so beautifully. "Please, mi amor....?"
"Oh baby..." You coo. "You're so good..."
You start panting a little as you move your hand faster, his precum starting to seep from the tip.
"You're absolutely perfect...." You kiss his neck, moaning directly into his ear.
"Such a beautiful face, mmmm....a beautiful mind. Mmmmm....my sweet baby works so hard *kiss* and he's, so, so smart..."
You're driving him wild as you tilt your head, tracing his face softly with your finger as he sighs.
"....mmmm those gorgeous red eyes....those full, perfect lips..."
You kiss him. "Taste so sweet..."
"Fuck I'm gonna....oh cariño..." He groans into your mouth. "I love you..."
"Mmmm...I love you baby....you don't know how much I do....mmm..." You close your eyes as you lock in, trying to put off the ache in your hand so you can make your sweet boyfriend cum.
He shakes violently and your eyelids flutter as you watch his thick cum spurt all over your hand and fist, using it as lube to give him a couple more strokes as a little extra.
He breathes heavily, his mouth falling open and cock twitching again when he sees you slowlyyy bring your hand to your face, licking up his cum and dragging down your bottom lip, rolling your hips with a pretty smile on your face.
"God I love you..." He groans.
-------
He spent like two hours eating you out and pulling orgasms out of you after that -
@hislastbimbogff 🖤🫶🏽
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 smut
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sneaking in a quickie with dad’s best friend!miguel while your dad is sleeping in the room next door.
your skirt was hitched up to the base of your hips, flipped over around your torso with your tights ripped apart in the center. guess he got too excited to take them off carefully? “shh, shh.. need you to be quiet f’me, okay?” his hand having to be clamped over your mouth to contain your loud whimpers as his cock slowly sunk into you, stretching out your walls beyond your limits. “mhmm, fuck,” you quietly mumbled into his hand, taking him inch-by-inch. he was much bigger than anyone you’d ever had, it was a new feeling for you.
“don’t want your dad wakin’ up, now do we? gonna walk in, see you all bent over for his friend..” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, chiseled chest pressing right up to your back. “you feel that, baby? all full ‘nd swollen f’me.” one hand was wrapped around your throat while the other found its way to the bottom of your stomach, putting pressure to the place of where his cock bulged through. “mm, all mine.”
#dbf!miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099#spiderman x reader#spiderman smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut
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pervy roommate!miguel who mumbles to himself after you ask for help to cum after your little pink vibrator died and wouldn't be recharged for an hour. the only problem? you told him you've never fingered yourself because you didn't think you're fingers would fit.
so now he's finally got two of his thick digits inside you, listening to how you try to muffle your whines and moans as your pussy gushes around his fingers. the feeling of them slowly rubbing against your walls made your hips twitch, but what really got you was the absolute filth that left his mouth.
"s'fuckin' tight, so small...jesus."
"pretty little cunt 's creaming all over my hand, baby girl, holy shit."
"god, mami, i wanna taste you so bad, es injusto."
"c'mon, lemme speed it up, you're gettin' wetter for me. shh, shh, i knowww, it's too much and too big, but it's okay. miggy's gonna make it feel real good, baby."
"so dirty, asking your roommate this late at night to make you cum. if it was someone else, would you ask? no? it's 'cause it's me isn't it, bebé? mmn, it's cause you wanted my big fingers to stretch this little cunt, didn't you?"
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara hcs#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x you#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara hcs#miguel x you#miguel spiderman#miguel ohara#🕷️ ── temptblabs.
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Tentateur
Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!fem Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT at the end, bit of angst, fluff, adult situations. Cheating, divorce.
Requested here
Summary: Miguel can't stand watching you being neglected by your husband.
------
If there was something Miguel hated, was life being too generous upon those that didn't deserve it, not even the slightest. Meaning, a dickhead for a coworker and sadly, your husband.
How could such a guy like him ended up with a sweetheart like you was beyond him, The man was apathetic, little to no charm, rude and an absolute bastard.
"She's uh, my wife." He had said flatly. Your name felt like sandpaper on his tongue as it rolled out of it while introducing you to the rest at a small party at Alchemax.
Miguel had noticed the little stab of hurt crossing your angelic face. He wanted to punch him straight in the face, even some of the other couples had noticed the small tension. But you just stood there, trying to give your best smile. The golden band around your finger and the loving stare your eyes casted on your husband was a clear 'Don't even try it' for him.
But for once, Miguel didn't care.
----
He didn't exactly know how the crush on you had started. At first he thought that was just him feeling lonely and that his eyes wandered too much. But when you visited, lunch bag in hand, looking for your husband only to give him a bedazzling smile upon seeing him, and he receiving you with a tight-lipped smile, made his heart to break a little more.
"Hey" You were about to kiss him but he just backed away.
"I'm working."
"Alright, alright. See you later?"
He just gave a quick nod and put the lunchbox on his desk. There wasn't love in his goodbye kiss, Miguel noted. Once you were out, he rummaged through its contents while rolling his eyes.
He looked around and spotted Miguel with a mug on his hand.
"Hey, pal." He called and offered him.
"Want some?" Miguel seized him from head to toes but just nodded. It felt the only way that he could have a bit of you at the moment.
"Take whatever you like. Wife always goes overboard with food." Miguel took the small dessert container. It tasted divine. It only matched your own sweetness.
Lucky Bastard.
Oh he was. His eyebrows pressed together as he kept giving away all the food you had so dotingly prepared him.
----
"Can we talk about this later? You can't just keep visiting me every time you feel so"
"But you keep forgetting lunch at home, can't leave you like-"
"It's fine really, we have vending machines here." Your husband grumbled, but you couldn't help but hold the lunchbox tightly against your arms.
"I see. Sorry." You gave him a small smile, "See you later?"
"Im busy today. Might get a couple hours late. Don't wait for me."
You just nodded as Miguel jaw tensed.
How dared he?
You left.
-----
You had bumped into him at the supermarket on a weekend. Your cart was full of food, food that would end up in his hands and the rest of the team but never in your husband's mouth.
"Miguel, right?"
He nodded as he pulled some items for himself in his basket.
"Thanks for helping me." you smiled, his heart thumped harder.
"Where is..." He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.
"My husband? Oh, he said he had an extra shift today. Working in Alchemax surely is hard, I mean, I try to make it less... bad for him."
Miguel's mind was sneering, not at you but at the fake pretense of a hard working man the son of a bitch had put up with you. He knew the truth, he knew your husband only went there, did things wrong and half assed, and lately he had been flirting shamelessly with a lab technician from the upper floor.
His hatred for the man only grew, just as his admiration for you. What truly made you marry someone like him? That's the biggest question he had so far.
"I'm kind of nervous, today's our anniversary. I wanna surprise him with something" Your cheeks tinted red.
God you were killing him. He wanted to grab you gently by your shoulders, and say 'I can be better' cause of course he could, he was. You'd never have to settle for less with him.
'I appreciate you' cause he did, unlike the fool you had married. 'You'd never have to beg me' because in truth, he was already at your feet.
But you weren't his. Not yet.
-----
Sighing, Miguel put the lab test equipment away, then headed for the main office to get a couple more samples of a liquid he tried, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.
Legs wrapped around a man's waist, as his pants were down at his ankles. The woman shrieked once she noticed Miguel standing there with a frown and disgusted face. Miguel’s anger froze when the man next to her turned to be none but your husband.
The man recoiled to himself upon Miguel glaring holes his way.
----
His shoulder was poked by none other that the cheating pig.
"Uh, hey. Can we.... Can you, I mean-"
He stumbled on his words, Miguel towered over him, his eyes belittling him. He was bold.
"You saw nothing, yeah?"
And oh so phony. Disgusting.
Miguel just went back to his work.
It was the last straw.
-------
To his surprise you were sitting on a café, puffy and tear crusted eyes staring into nothingness, a phone on your hands. You knew.
He didn't know whether to approach you, or just leave you be. As much as he wanted you, he knew that coming at you in your most vulnerable state would not only make a bad impression oh him, but he didn't want to act like a vulture, looming over your broken heart for him to take.
He approached carefully.
"Hey"
"Miguel..."
"Are you okay?"
Your eyes avoided him.
"May I sit?"
You nodded with a hiccup and he offered you his handkerchief, fresh hot tears spilled in the soft fabric. His chest constricting at the sight.
"He cheated on me."
Much to your dismay, he knew. Of course, he wanted to tell you, but knowing how careless your husband acted, it was a matter of time for you to discover the cheating.
"I'm really sorry to hear that."
Shaking your head, you sniffed
"He has been doing this for months. Should've... saw this coming. I mean... I found so many pictures of a woman and... God"
He was pretty sure that he would punch the man next time he'd see him.
"He never came home to our anniversary, but even way before that. He just... I wasn't enough."
He frowned and took your hand softly.
"Stop. Cheating is a personal choice, guapa. You can't blame yourself for other's choices. He decided to do so, to trash away his marriage. It has nothing to do with you."
"Maybe if... I was-"
"No. You're... you're perfect. Puta madre, you're more than perfect. He's a lucky bastard just to have you. And... If I was him-"
He stopped his words and pursed his lips. You didn't need this. He'd have to be patient. You stared at him gently.
"I'll file for a divorce. He's barely coming home anyways and... that pretty much says on it's own that is over."
Miguel just nodded.
"Might celebrate it." You chuckled after wiping your tears.
"Can I ask you something?"
Again, you nodded.
"I know it's none of my business but, I'm just genuinely curious as to why you'd marry him?"
"Impulsiveness, I guess." you shrugged, your hand resting some inches away from his.
"He just proposed one day out of the blue, we had been dating for six months. Don't... don't look at me like that. I know it was stupid." you groaned.
"It's alright. You thought it was love." His hand inched closer, you nodded.
"We had our problems. A lot, actually. But... instead of speaking things like a fucking adult, he went on cheating."
"Mira, guapa... yo" He trailed off unsure of resisting any longer, his resolution to wait vanishing, "I know that this is a really bad time for you and-"
"Please... don't. Miguel I-"
"Just listen, ok? Please?" His hand finally took yours gently.
"I know this is the least of things you need right now, but... You have no idea how... how perfect you are. I always saw you visiting him, being loving, and he just threw all that away. He lost you. You're way too much for him."
Your body tensed upon sensing where this was going. Of course you weren't ignorant, you'd notice the glances he would give your way, the yearning in his eyes every time you kissed or acted like lovesick fool with your glacial husband.
" Let me show you, how would I treat you, if you were mine."
"Miguel, I don't want to-."
"Let me take you to dinner. If you don't like anything and I mean it, anything, I'll stop and leave you be. Just a dinner. Hell, you could ramble about him for hours and I'd just be happy for you to be there."
You sighed, it was a rather simple choice to say yes or no. There was nothing that actually tied you to your ex husband now. Just a very skewed moral code.
" Just a dinner. "
His heart fluttered and he nodded
"Just a dinner and I'll drop you home."
----
Miguel helped you out of his car, eyes drinking in your form. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel jealous of the dress you were wearing, snugging all your curves in the right spots, just a tiny thing to make your own beauty to stand out even more. Gorgeous, flawless, divine and perfect.
You gasped at the location
"Are you sure this is the place? It's quite expensive."
Your concern was endearing, he offered you his arm and guided you inside.
"You're worth it, princesa."
The place seemed like being inspired from an old movie, elegant, classic and of course fancy. Never in your life your ex husband would actually treat you to places like these. His card would explode, he said once. Other places were good, but this was in a whole new level of luxury.
Miguel held the chair for you, and you sat, he followed.
"This place is gorgeous." He chuckled and took your hand to kiss your soft knuckles.
"Just like you."
----
Time flew, the night had been to your surprise one of the best things that you have experienced. You had tasted things that didn't know existed, Miguel had fed you the dessert, pampering you to no end. The wine was delicious.
As night advanced, his little touches had turned more and more risqué, his fingers would take a taste of your exposed thigh skin, your hands would brush his, fiery and small caresses that sparked a silent yet mutual fire.
Once home you couldn't get your hands out of eachother. He had to be careful to not rip your dress to bits, he needed you. The wet kisses in your neck and his wandering hands all over your heated body the proof of it. When was the last time that someone touched you like this?
Not even him, the man that oathed to love you and be with you through thick and thin. A gentle rub on your clit by expert fingers made you forget about him. Lock his memory in a vault and you'd throw the key somewhere. Your hips would buck against his hand, rolling on waves after waves of pleasure.
"He didn't touch you?" You shook your head as your mouth gaped open.
"When was-"
"Shut up." you moaned breathlessly. An I don't know nor care.
Your body responded so well too him, be the need you tried to sate with your own hands, or the loneliness that had made you so desperate that had you squirming and soaked and he was only using his hands so far. With Miguel, things felt differently. He did things differently. And different was good. So so good.
His hunger for you shown and conveyed in every caress and touch he gave you. He was gentle enough for his desire to permeate your skin. You didn't feel alone. You felt needed. Loved even. There was no turning back once you discarded all the clothes on both ends.
----
Opposite to what you believed, your heart wasn't flooding with guilt. No.
There were no longer what ifs and what not constantly echoing in your brain. There was no longer that constricting sensation in your chest you always had. No more uncertainty. You were free.
Last night Miguel, whose arms cradled your form to be snuggled in his chest and his thigh hooked on your hip, hoarding you. As if fearful you'd go away, had made you experience a whole new concept of pleasure. Your body soared in bliss, you were glowing, He had given you climax after climax, making every single one of them more shattering and intense than the other.
That's all you wanted really. Feel at ease and blissful. Miguel had given you that and more. More than you actually ever though deserving. It was just a matter of time that you'd finally take him whole.
You wanted him. His kindness, his care, his love, his grumpyness during mornings, the way he cursed in spanish whenever he'd stub his toe in the nightstand. You wanted it all.
Of course you had filed for a divorce as soon as you could, your husband was more than happy to comply. He hadn't been home for a while, Miguel even told you that he had quitted. It was as if the universe was removing him from your life ever since you started with Miguel a couple months ago.
But none of that mattered. Not when he had plopped you down to bed, hands holding a firm grip in your sweaty and smooth skin, hips straddling yours and plowing into you from behind, prone bone position. His hips buried himself deep, hitting that spot over and over. He wasn't gentle, but that's just exactly how you liked it.
Before you could actually reach the stars he flipped you over, your thighs resting ontop of his. He sheathed once more inside. Your phone buzzed.
You growled in annoyance, Miguel sighed. A number you knew all too well. Finally you'd get the news you so needed to hear.
"Y-Yeah?" Miguel smirked as he held your thighs together and pushed in further, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. The little baby bump in your abdomen barely noticeable.
"Shit's done. Papers are signed."
There was a bit of rustling and the clinking of glass. By his tone, you knew he was getting drunk, celebrating. Miguel took the phone and put it on speaker.
"Ya know? I'm glad I did. Couldn't stand you, nagging all the time. But I'm a free man now, baby." His gulping, something you secretly hated, could be heard on the other line.
Miguel frowned and spreaded your legs once more.
"You there?" Your ex chuckled, "It's okay if you're crying, won't judge"
So so annoying.
A smirk appeared on your face as Miguel focused the camera on your body. He then turned the video call on. The man's face instantly fell upon watching you bouncing on a cock that surely put his to shame. Spine arching, breast jiggling and mouth spewing the lewdest of moans and needy whimpers he hsd ever heard from you. One tan hand secured you in place, preventing you from squirming too much.
"Sorry, pal." He grunted as he started to ram his hips in abandonment, making your toes curl. Your face and body said it all. The video image shaking at his thrust
"Just like that, bonita?" You choked a sob as he went balls in deep, nodding and begging him for him to not stop.
"She's busy." He hung up the call before the man could say anything and tossed your phone somewhere in the bed.
You felt so good, perfect for him, And now you were all his.
------
tag list: @primroselovessupernatural
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman 2099 smut#t writes✨
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starved | [miguel o'hara x reader]
❛ pairing | new papi!miguel x new mami!reader
❛ type | oneshot: explicit content
❛ summary | peter says he's sex-starved. he isn't. he's just... adjusting to less time with his wife.
❛ tags | breastfeeding miguel, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, touch starved, pissy miguel, spanish is not translated, mention of violence, some cursing, f!reader.
❛ sy’s notes | written as per poll request! thank you everyone who voted.
Miguel likes to work.
Or, he thinks he likes to work.
The fate of the multiverse and all that boring ass bullshit. Peter has heard it all, twice, thrice over. What he knows is what he sees. What he sees is an overworked man running through anomaly files, sending out orders, and not spending time where it really mattered.
“Is that who I think it is?” Peter’s annoying ass house slippers flapped over the ground by Miguel’s feet. Peter’s hands rubbed together, sparking little bursts of heat between his palms. “It is! Mireya!”
Mireya, the newest addition to his small family. She was nestled comfortably in the crook of one of Miguel’s muscular arms as if it were the safest place in the entire world, suckling on what was left of a bottle of breastmilk. Miguel turned to place the empty bottle down on his desk. Peter followed, peeping over Miguel’s arm at her. Despite Miguel’s reservations, her bright brown eyes bored Peter with interest. She cooed at him. “Can I hold her? Let me hold her, it’ll be great! Aw look, she has curls.”
“My daughter isn’t your doll.”
“Look how pretty, she’s just like her mami. All sunshine and dimples and--,” Peter reached forward, easing his scrawny hands under her plush little arms and picking her up. Miguel’s hands fell onto his hips, shifting weight from one foot to the other, glancing down at his feet expectantly. “You know, for a new dad, you’re grumpier than usual.”
“Peter.”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he bobbed back and forth, spinning in a circle. She giggled the kind of laugh that was all sugar, making Peter grin even harder. “I mean, wasn’t Mireya your idea? Are you-- y’know?”
“Y’know?”
“Sex starved,” Peter whispered like it was a great, terrible secret. As if in this vast space of silence, someone might catch his words and convict him because of them. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes slid against one another, held for a second, then spread open in an annoyed flick. He fluttered his gloved fingers at Peter to hand Mireya over.
“I’m just saying if you need a night alo--”
“I don’t. I’m not sex-starved.”
He waved him off. His eyes fell on his daughter, boring back up at him with those beautiful eyes he had waited so long to see. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, lulling her back into her late-night slumber, cradled against his chest.
Sex starved, he said. What a shocking joke.
His room was no place for a child. It was perpetually dark, dimmed for his sensitive eyes. So, at the end of the day, Miguel had your room to return to. A real home, one with more than a ratty run-down chair and a lifetime of regrets. A home that he couldn't make alone. Miguel pressed past the bedroom door where he found you overcome by sleep. Just like Mireya in his arms.
He turned his gaze down to Mireya once more, her soft and squishy body a vision of peace. Tiny fists balled up over her belly as she slept in her soft velvet onesie. The whole world in his hands: the start of a happy little family. Only right now, it didn’t feel so happy. Those were the cycles, the push and pull of life.
Tonight would prove to be another silent night with his thoughts. His chest swelled with a rush of air, bunching up his shoulders as he moved to the adjoining room to set Mireya into her warm crib. Torn from his warmth, her palms stretched out, ready to wail. Miguel placed his hand along the wooden rail, his stomach flopping into throbbing anxiety in his stomach. She could wake you up.
"Shh," he set his finger in her tiny palm. Mireya’s small hands rested listlessly around her head. The wail never came.
“Mi vida,” your sleepy voice fell over his ears, a gentle caress. He longed to hear it from your lips again. “Is she already asleep?”
“Sí--” he glanced over his shoulder, catching just a sight of one of his favourite little slips. Dusty rose with delicate lace details. He studied the edge of the gown, flowing over your thick thighs as you walked. Shock.
“You look beautiful." You looked down at your soft belly, a mincing smile pulling at your lips. He knew you were nervous, the way your hands obscured your plush belly. Mesmerized, his finger fell away from Mireya's soft grip. Peter's words echoed in his mind, a deep annoyance. It made his skin crawl, this growing annoyance in the acknowledgment that he had no sex in weeks, months. He took a step forward.
“I hope she doesn’t sleep through the night. My breasts are full,” Your fingers skimmed the taut skin. The glint of your wedding band invited him forward as if… you should be his tonight. You were his wife-- and though he didn't expect you to give him relief, he missed you. Miguel dipped his head, stroking the sore muscles of his neck.
Are you, y'know, sex-starved?
“When does she ever..." he couldn't help from saying. He grazed his fingertips over the swollen skin of your breasts, glancing from the skin to your deep, shy eyes. His breath thinned, realizing that you were disengaging, too scared to look him in the eye.
“She does, Miggy,” you breathed. His jaw worked, annoyed. “Lately. You’d know if you came home at night.”
If it was lately, he had no knowledge of it. Every lab screen he pulled up, every status report from Lyla, and every silent night in the lab, obsessing over how his little girl was doing-- he missed it. He should be coming in more often, crossing the threshold of work to family life. His hand cupped the underside of your breast. You winced, embarrassment working on your face. You pushed his hand away, likely feeling exposed by his touch on your tender skin.
“Does it hurt?” He leaned down, mingling his smoky, musky scent with your delicate one. He leaned in to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss along your neck, the warm pulse of your skin against his plump lips.
“Miggy, you’ll wake her up.”
Your fingers laced in his before you pulled him out of the room with a click of the door. He settled his hand on the middle of the door, sliding his hand up your waist, the soft fabric crinkling over the movement. He glimpsed a look at your soft panties cupping your round ass. “Miggy, I… I can’t. I’m tired.”
Of course, you were tired-- He underestimated how much work you took on in her care. He willed the wisps of his desire to snuff out. The distant flicker of hope followed promptly after. Maybe, one day, you would want him again. It wasn't today.
“Ya veo,” he suppressed his frustrated growl, wrinkling his forehead. “Another time.”
It wasn't the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.
The anomaly whirled along a cobblestone street, exploding in a cloud of dust and stone. Its many black dipped hands flickered, dulling into little more than a negligible tremor of their limbs. Everyone else noticed the complacency that came with loss of consciousness. Miguel did not.
Miguel sauntered forward, dragged it by its muddy boots out from the crumbly remnants of the wall, and whirled it into another. It wasn't moving. It was done, tired, exhausted. He didn't care, his large hand encompassing its tendril hair and smashing it over the dusty floor. A violent crack, crack, crack of its head scratched his inert need to destroy something, anything, anyone. It fell from his hands with a slump. Miguel spat a bit of blood to the side, his cheek chewed raw under the tension of the moment.
“You need to take Peter up on that offer.”
Miguel stretched his neck one way. Then the other.
“We’ve been over this,” Miguel grumbled, hiking the pummeled body over his shoulder. It gushed blood, streaming into a diluted pink with the downpour of rain. A simple contusion, Miguel said. It was just a contusion. And a concussion. Maybe a gash or two. It would heal if the thing woke up. “I don’t need help.”
“You thrashed it, whatever it was,” Jess said pointedly. Miguel’s finger ran across his watch. The air was stale without an acknowledgment of Miguel’s churning temper, growing into a churning tempest by the passing minute. He stared long and hard through his mask. She drew out the silence as she waited for his response.
“It’s a contusion.”
The portal whirled to life before them in a slurry of vivid color, an unforgiving abyss. Jess slumped her bike with weight on one thigh, hand on her belly. The longer Miguel stared at her, so full and pregnant, the more he was reminded of you. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use-- he saw visages of you everywhere he looked.
“Doesn’t look like any head contusion I’ve seen,” Gwen slid into the portal. His lip curled, annoyed by the obvious objection to what he was saying. If they would let it go-- he could go on about his life, wait for this obsession with his sex life to abate. Wait for you to come back to him.
“You can’t keep taking out your—“
“I am not sex-starved!”
“Convincing.” Jess sped into the portal.
Miguel soothed the stress out of his forehead, opening and closing his palm, a current of energy coursing through his palms. They picked— and they picked— and they picked at him. At some point, he was bound to explode. He only hoped you wouldn't be in his way when it happened. He whipped the anomaly through the portal and followed after.
On the other side of the portal, there was Peter— again. Cooing with his hands on his daughter— again. His dark mask faded away, his suit wicking water off his frame. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located you beside Jess and Gwen. You nudged its crumpled body with your shoe. He didn’t often feel ashamed of his actions. Usually, they were necessary. Something was wrong, your face pinched and curled in disgust. He felt the string of your disapproval pulling through his arms, a slight, incriminating tremor flickering through his finger. He willed it away.
“What did you do to this poor thing?” you turned to Jess, a click-click-click off your tongue. He’d hardly call it poor. “It’s overkill.”
“Girl, ask your husband,” Jess folded her arms, reclining on her bike.
“Mi Miggy?” you went to him. You leaned over, pecking his cheek with a terribly insulting kiss, tickling his jawline. He swallowed. Blinked. Then frowned and brushed off your fingers, finding the care misplaced. You could care for an anomaly but didn't care to ask him how he felt. What he needed. Your voice wilted that sunshine quality, dropping almost to a whisper. “¿Qué te pasa, Miggy?”
“Nothing.”
“Miguel--"
“I said nothing!” He knelt down, grasping its ankle and dragging it down the long, drab hall that stored a variety of anomalies. A line of blood soaked the floor, swerving after his rumbling steps. You took a step forward, snatching his wrist between your fingers. He whirled around, a tremble on his lips firmed out into an unforgiving glare. You let up the pressure on his wrist, allowing him to spin his hand free. “Déjame en paz! There is nothing shocking wrong!”
Mireya cried. So did you.
The admittance that Peter was right wasn’t one that Miguel was about to make openly.
Although he showed up that night, as you informally requested, the night proceeded awkwardly. There was no talk over dinner, not as he watched you feed his little girl, swaying by the window of the enormous city below. As you gazed into the sea of twinkling lights, Miguel came up behind you. His palms encompassed your slight shoulders, moist against your exposed shoulders. His naked chest grazed your back.
"Are you going to apologize?"
Why should he have to? If anyone listened to what he was saying-- he wouldn't be in this mess. Still, Miguel steeled his face. He placed a mincing kiss on the top of your head. His voice thinned out, barely a feather on his lips.
"I snapped."
"You did a lot more than that. You scared her."
You let him sit with his regret until you fell asleep. He debated returning to the lab or his room to try again tomorrow. But he knew his wife. You were attentive to everything that he did. You might take it as a sign of his disinterest. After minutes turned to hours, he breached the door and slid into your bed when he was sure you were asleep.
When his eyes coursed over your figure, he realized all he missed. It was too long since he felt the warmth of a real kiss. Not the brief pecks on his lips as he rushed out the door to help Jess or Gwen or any other number of spiders demanding his attention. He missed the warmth in your eyes, the way they turn into crescents with a happy smile or jaunty laugh. He longed for that sensation of your fingers combing through his hair, taking your time and curling his fluffy hair behind his ear, eyes trained on his alone in a sea of spiders. That… sensation of being the only one that you wanted.
Mireya was that for you now. He longed for it every time he came into the room, seeing you sway with his child in your arms, cradled against your breast, feeding her into a restful sleep. What he thought was a mere seed of jealousy turned out to be a terrible beast, tendrils of resentment that you can’t see what he needs. He needs you. And it isn’t his beautiful Mireya’s fault, no. It’s his.
Instead, he lay there with his palm wretched around his cock, soaked in the artificial lubricant, throbbing into his hand. He remembered his words that night. A begrudging -- Mami, give me a baby-- and how well you took him. Your body seemed to know what he wanted, swelling with his child after a few weeks. He buckled into his palm, cranking around the base and swirling up to his leaking tip, bubbling with his need. He circled his finger over the head, swiping the fluid away.
“What are you thinking about?”
Miguel paused, sweat crept down his thick throat over his broad chest. He shuddered under the weight of your silken words. His hand coiled around his cock in one more jerk, somehow accepting that he had been caught.
“Are you thinking about me? Or is there someone else?”
"Someone else?" he breathed. His lips dropped into a frown, agitation simmering to a boil. It cooled when you looked at him-- but really looked at him. The bed shifted under your weight, ruffling pillows aside. You hoisted your legs over his body, pushing his cock against your soft vulva and his stomach, breasts pushing into his face. So close that Miguel inhaled the uniquely sweet smell of your milk obscured by thin lace.
“Why would I have anyone else?” he asked, his chest distantly aching. His gaze tracked from one breast to the other. He stole a glimpse at your face, stricken with shyness. The slight pout of your lips, eyes refusing contact. “Do you even want me?”
Undoubtedly yes.
“You don’t come to see me. You don't fuck me. You don't even--"
"You're always tired."
"But you could wake me.”
“Could I? To deny me again?” It hadn’t meant to come out so passive-aggressive, but with the natural inflections in his voice, he knew you could read him like a book.
“Oh, papi," not that soft voice. He might hope again. "I always want you.“
Hmpf. Debatable.
“Even when you’re jerking off in my bed. Or couch.” You slid your pink tongue along your lower lip, guiding your body against his. The wet draw of your juices over his dick drew his sharp scarlet eyes to the sight, knocking your stiff clit with his dick. For a moment, his words failed. He should have known you would watch him.
“Is that why you're so... angry? Because of me?" He made a small noise, barely a huff. You drew his hands to your full breasts, obscured by a thin layer of fabric. This time, he smothered a groan in his chest. How pathetic, he thought, to be moaning from something as simple as your firm breasts back in his hands. What was he-- twelve? "Have I been neglecting you, Miguel O’Hara?”
“Yes-- you've neglected me,” he murmured, dragging the lace underneath each breast, knocked together by the straps of the fabric. He melded your breasts again between his hands, massaging the sore skin. His thumps flickered over your nipples, stiffening them into peaks. With a small pinch to your breasts, milk dribbled over his fingertips.
"I won't do it again," he wondered if you missed his touch by the full, grateful hum of your lips, your palms disappearing into his dark hair. You coursed along his dick again, eliciting another piteous noise of longing from his throat. "I promise."
“Hm," was the only agreement. "What a mess,” he teased, not bothering to look at you. It had the desired effect, your shoulders shyly bunching up, the cute pout of your lips, warmth in your cheeks, quivering eyes. He loved it when you looked so fucking shy, so vulnerable, and all for him. "You're leaking all over my hand."
“I’m-- sorry,” you flushed, “It… happens.”
“Mhm, you're full,” Miguel flicked his pink tongue along your stiff, fat nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a suckle. Sweet milk soothed his tongue. He hungrily drank it up, shifting his other hand back to angle his cock at the entrance of your core. A hand left his thick locks and jerked to his broad shoulder, stabilizing your hips down to sink onto him. Blood welled to the surface with your claws scratching piteously along his sunkissed skin. With a bit of resistance, he slid perfectly into your body, just like he always did. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips against your breast. It was somehow different-- the tug and stretch of his cock-- as he fucked the mother of his child. Maybe it was all in his head. “Shock, you’re gorgeous on my dick.”
“Miggy--”
He shifted to the other breast, his hands nearly stapled on your hips, encouraging you to do the work. Your warm milk slid into his mouth, down his starved throat. The pleasure of knowing he was draining you of your milk was tempered with the ever-present fact that soon, you’d have his spunk in your belly again. Your hips flushed, drawing around in quick circles, flushed with his pelvis. Small waves of pleasure grew in your belly. Your stiff clit glided against his skin, again, and again with the undulations of his hips. You felt pinned between his mouth and dick, restricted in movement, but all his, devoured by his need.
“Come here, mi hermosura,” Miguel released your breast from those lush lips, sliding his tongue along his lips to catch the remnants of your sweet milk. He slid down along the pillows, flushing your chest to his, and propped his legs slightly for a better angle. His muscular arms wound around your back, cock pumping into you with renewed vigor. He knocked against your cervix in this position, holding you fast and tight in his arms. You nestled against his sweaty chest, accepting his thrusts so well.
“Miggy-- I’m not-- on anything.”
“You're breastfeeding, close enough,” he mused in your ear as though it were a joke.
You might have argued with him if you weren’t so blinded by that fantastic juddering of his hips. As it were, pleasure rocked all thoughts of birth control out of your mind. Miggy, an ever-present lover, groaned as he held out through your orgasm milking and soaking his swollen dick in your cum. Not a moment later, Miguel forced a long stroke of his dick inside your cunt, reaching his climax buried deep in your tremoring walls. You squeezed him tight, milking him dry of his orgasm until it all faded into fuzzy pleasure. You sighed as his arms loosened, warm and full of Miguel after so long. His soft dick slipped free, cum oozing onto his thighs, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess.
He set a kiss on the top of your head, then your forehead, and eventually snatched your lips in a warm kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue and flushed. Your head dropped down on his chest, listening for the gentle whining of your daughter. It was silent but for the intermingling of your heaving breaths.
After all the issues: the disappointment, the fighting with Peter and Jess, Miguel couldn’t help but chuckle. All it took was jerking off in your bed. He should have known-- you never did like to be left out on his fun. You were always a jealous lover, even at the threat of his own hand.
“Hm? Why are you laughing?”
“Peter said I was sex-starved."
“Well," you glistened a smile, kissing along his jaw. He huffed. "He wasn't wrong."
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BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. miguel o'hara
description. if you're not his to have, why do you look like the one he has loved? why do you spread your legs and whine and moan for him?
includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, DUBCON & CNC ELEMENTS (it's complicated fr), SMUT 18+, slightly angsty but mostly filfthy smut, fem!reader, massive size kink, dacryphilia, p n v, oral (fem receiving), animalistic miguel (fangs and claws included), possessive miguel, reader is a variant of miguel's late wife, reader's miguel is dead, slight dumbification, power play, cervix kissing, brief mention of paralyzing reader unwillingly, told from miguel's pov (still 2nd person), creampies, like 3 spanish pet names (author does not speak spanish)
wc: 5.5k+
fanart creds to @shuploc
→ kinktober masterlist
He stalks his prey from the window.
The house looks the same. There’s not much dust anywhere, there’s still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He can’t tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that there’s still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too.
He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him.
You look the same.
A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but you’re still you.
Even though he knows you’re not the woman he married.
And he’s not the Miguel you married.
But you’re still his wife.
He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices you’re wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe he’s in a different universe. He’s finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be here.
But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him.
It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to.
And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguel’s lips are on yours.
He meant to lead more up to it. He didn’t even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldn’t take it anymore.
You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows you’re as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you.
You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. It’s shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw.
And it’s with this –– and your hands going to his shoulders –– that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you.
The thought makes him animalistic.
He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he can’t take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek.
You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks you’re going to push him away. He prepares himself.
But you don’t.
You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you don’t move in time like you should.
But Miguel’s forgiving.
He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if it’s his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit.
The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls.
Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and it’s with this movement that you pull back.
He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack.
“Miguel …” you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that you’re not his wife.
He’s instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. “I’m sorry. Am I too much?”
Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect you’ve always had on him.
“No. You’re never too much for me. I’ll always want you. Always.”
And that’s the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesn’t know if that’s what you mean.
But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows.
His body engulfs yours.
You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguel’s legs.
He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him.
Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different.
“Miguel, I don’t think we should do this. You’re not my husband, you—“
“I’m not?” He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. It’s just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. “Am I not your husband?”
Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders.
“N … No. You’re not my Miguel. You’re not the father of my child.”
Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didn’t need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, it’s with his sharp canines. It’s not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting.
You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and you’re quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down.
“Don’t apologize, cariño. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.”
His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguel’s shoulders.
“Mig, this isn’t right, this isn’t—“ but he’s cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses.
His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever.
He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.” Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot.
It’s all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him.
And Miguel has always been determined. He’ll do anything to reach his goal.
His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between.
Your mouth falls open.
Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing.
“You still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?” He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If he’s reading you right, he’s noticing it all. There’s shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them.
He can’t help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. “I wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.”
He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and you’re so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are.
He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But it’s beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but it’s there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you weren’t protected. You’d gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldn’t have happened.
So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, it’s soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.
He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you.
Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way he’s attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand.
It’s thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguel’s eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt.
Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft “wow” and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. It’s amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more.
Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them.
He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he can’t help it. He’s entertained, thinking of how you’re finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it.
He doesn’t know if you’re aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them.
Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles.
“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.”
You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it.
You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch.
He takes it as his go ahead.
He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him.
Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. There’s no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how you’d always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldn’t be home, and when he’d comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom.
Miguel doesn’t realize it, but he’s gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs.
The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you won’t close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. He’s holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesn’t snarl.
“Baby, just close your legs a little, let me–” but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two.
A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguel’s not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart.
He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if he’s just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt.
Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you.
Miguel barely realizes that it’s happening, but suddenly he’s leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you.
You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously.
Miguel’s sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth would’ve been a whimper if he hadn’t decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit.
It’s slow, a little torturous on his end, but it’s worth it with the reaction you give him.
Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time.
How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel.
He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale.
What follows is Miguel O’hara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguel’s saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area.
This isn’t his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he can’t get enough. He’s like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someone’s waiting to take it away from him.
Briefly, he’s reminded that someone could take this all away. He can’t stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldn’t be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing he’s displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires.
Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguel’s right back in it.
He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending.
A little gasp comes from you. “Fuck,” you whisper, and Miguel wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing.
It’s a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave.
“Not used to this, are you? Your little fingers haven’t been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.”
Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more.
You don’t say anything, but Miguel’s fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, they’re massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasn’t forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure.
It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils.
He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there.
“That’s it. There it is. ‘S all the same.”
He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite.
“Mig, Miguel, please, I … I’m, it’s all…” You’re saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He can’t tell if you’re begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to.
Not with the way you’re so obviously close.
One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguel’s wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist.
“Don’t know how you’re gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. ‘M gonna split you open.” The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth.
Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re practically intelligible when you say, “‘M close.”
It’s like Miguel’s been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight.
He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers.
He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and he’s encouraging you.
Not even a few moments later Miguel’s fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that you’re clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time you’ll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy.
You’re barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before you’re looking over at him.
He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider.
But when his sweats are on the floor, and he’s stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs.
He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you.
“Would you like to do the honors?” A phrase he’s uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response.
Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that it’s really been a while since you’ve had your Miguel.
When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway.
Miguel nods. “Come on, don’t be shy.”
Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic.
“There you go.” His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him.
The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath.
He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and there’s nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes.
So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip.
Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguel’s cock, feeling him up, working him slowly.
It feels nice. But it’s not nearly enough.
Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants.
Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free.
Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him.
He can already predict what you’re going to say before you go.
“Miguel. It’s not gonna fit.”
The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail.
His head shakes. “It’ll fit, amor. I’ll make sure it fits.”
He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you.
But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful.
You’re clenched tight, it’s showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasn’t been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and he’s sure that he’s out of practice, but it works.
Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target.
There’s an unspoken agreement for him to proceed.
So he does.
You’re tight. Miguel knew you would be, but it’s still slightly unexpected. He can’t help but hiss as the head starts to breach. You’re tight.
“Baby. Let me in. Breathe.”
You try to do so, but it’s like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push.
It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, it’s only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change.
He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more.
He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in.
They’re intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks it’s working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles.
It’s impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him.
Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all.
So he does. He takes what he wants.
He takes what he deserves.
His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguel’s hands.
He doesn’t let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts.
He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. It’s something the you that belongs to him would’ve done, and there’s a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now.
Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. It’s unfiltered, an accident, but it’s real and raw.
His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. He’s hurt you. He’s done the thing he swore he never would.
You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesn’t see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him.
You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion.
Yet there’s nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguel’s eyes.
He’s sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference.
He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however he’d like.
But you’ve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need.
Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a “hng”, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response.
“Acting like you’ve never been fucked like this before.” His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.
“Maybe you haven’t. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know that’s not your purpose. You’re wasting your potential, honey. This is what you’re made for.” He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply.
“Made to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?” You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper.
He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. “Such a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until it’s second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussy’s too tight. Hasn’t had a big cock to fill it in a while. But that’s alright, we can train her. She’ll be as good as new in no time, yeah?”
It seems he’s fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, you’re a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesn’t bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle.
Miguel’s ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him.
In his mind, there’s no greater honor.
Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body.
He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders.
He’s bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows what’s best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another.
He knows you need another.
So he continues.
He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion.
Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts.
“None of that, baby. Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this way.” It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together.
Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. “I said: Look at me.”
You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling.
“There you go. That’s it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now give me another. Just one more, my love.”
He’s so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. There’s possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguel’s cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time.
Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder.
“C’mon, baby. When you’re ready, just let go for me.”
He’s close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.
His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo.
“There we go. There we––” His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and he’s shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesn’t think about how he’ll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling.
The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. It’s not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing.
You’re silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state.
You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.
You’re already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring.
“I’m glad you came back to me,” you say, voice earnest and honest.
Miguel pulls you into his chest.
#🕸️ 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐑#migueltobr!#miguel o'hara x reader#miguelsworld!#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099
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Pairing: Nerd!Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Reader Under the Influence of an Aphrodisiac, Somnophilia, Blowjob, Slight Nipple Play, Slight Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Mean!Miguel, Slightly Perverted!Miguel
A/N: Requested!
Summary: There is only one man you can turn to in your time of need
Word Count: 3.2K (Barely Edited)
Fuck!
You almost miss your landing, having to hold extra tight to the fire escape railing to not fall. Your breath is ragged, and you never realized how hard it was to breath through your mask until now. You stumble as you step off of the railing and onto the landing, taking a lungful of air as you reach behind your head and rip off your mask. Your steps are clumsy as you walk towards the window, your body burning up as you grasp the window ledge and push it up with a grunt. God, I told that idiot to start locking his windows, you think as you slide through.
It’s completely dark inside, the only bit of moonlight being blocked by your figure. But even then, you can see the outline of posters and figurines on the wall. You can even see the outline of his body laying in his bed. You let out a heavy sigh, making your way over to him. His bed creaks as you kneel on top of it, the soft mattress sinking under your weight. Miguel’s sheet is half-way off his body, probably kicked off during the night-time heat. His chest falls steadily, his whole front being exposed to you as he sleeps on his back. He mumbles something, sleepy whispers leaving his barely parted mouth as his hand comes up to scratch at his naked chest. You can feel your skin heat up at the sight of the exposed skin, seeing the way coarse hair spans over tan muscles. You feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.
You don’t really think before your palms land flat onto his skin. It’s slightly cool under your hands, but it does nothing to kill the heated flush over your own skin. It only makes it worse. A tortured sound leaves your lips as you rake your hands down his body, ghosting over the skin of his chest and stomach until they stop at his thighs. Why are his boxers so tight around his thighs? You take a shaky breath in, shifting your weight as your hands travel up slightly until they’re right over the outline of his soft dick. Your hands shake as you massage him over the thin fabric of his underwear; have they always shook like that?
You can feel him hardening under your hands, and your head snaps up when he lets out a soft moan. He’s still asleep, that steady rhythm still moving his chest. But his brows are furrowed, lips parted slightly. It makes something in your stomach twist in fear and excitement at the idea of being caught. You let out another breath as you drop your attention to his semi, your hand gently guiding his cock out through the hole of his boxers. Even though he’s not fully hard yet, you can see the beginning bulge of a vein running up the underside of his cock. The length of him just barely being supported by the hold you have on him.
Your mouth feels dry at the sight. He’s big, and he isn’t even fully hard yet. You try to chase the dryness in your throat away with a swallow, but it only makes more saliva pool on your tongue. You sneak a peek up again, finding him in the same pose from a minute ago. You keep your eyes on him as you slowly lean down, only looking down for a second as you guide your mouth over him. Your bottom lip brushes over his tip, but you turn your head to the side as you lean further down. Your tongue darts up, licking the length just above your hand as you make your way back up to his tip. Miguel’s breath hitches, your eyes looking towards him. His head is thrown to the side, but he doesn’t seem to be waking up.
Good.
You hum against him, tongue flicking at his slit. Your hand moves up and down him slowly, feeling him get harder in your hold before you wrap your fingers around his tip. You suck lightly, eyes fluttering when the first salty beads of precum melt on your tongue. You can feel a dull throb beginning at your core, your body craving Miguel’s addicting taste. Your body needs it. A small moan falls from your lips as you take him deeper, your hands falling away to sit on his thighs as you slowly move your head up and down his length. The heavy warmth in your mouth is comforting, and the pleasure of having him in your mouth travels straight to your cunt. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you focus on moving your head, gagging slightly when you force him a little too far down your throat. But you’re caught off guard when a heavy hand falls on your head, forcing Miguel’s cock down your throat entirely.
You squeal, quickly turning into a gag as your nose meets the coarse hair at the base of his cock. The hand keeps you there and you snap your eyes open. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes stare down at you, sharp crimson glinting. His other hand is stretched out to his side, coming into view in a second, the frames of his glasses pinched between his fingers before he slips them on. You moan around him, trying to communicate the uncomfortable pressure pressing on the back of your throat, but it only makes Miguel hiss out in pleasure. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling your head up before pushing it back down to the base.
“Fucking knew it,” he breaths harshly, repeating the movement until he’s controlling how fast you suck his dick. “Thought I wouldn’t find out it was you, huh?”
You whine around his cock, mind too hazy on the smell of his skin and the feel of his dick in your mouth to process what he’s talking about. Miguel’s head rolls, his hips beginning to thrust into your mouth as he keeps your head still. You can feel tears pricking at your lower lash line, wet gags escaping your throat with each of his thrusts. Your hands bunch up the fabric of his boxers, eyes staring up at him. You can feel yourself dripping, praying it doesn’t seep through your suit. Miguel thrusts into your mouth a few more times before he pulls you off of his cock, allowing you to take a large breath in and sputter. Spit wets the entirety of your chin and lips, and you gasp as warm liquid splatters on your cheek. Your eyes close instinctively, your ears picking up Miguel’s low groan and labored breathing. Your eyes slowly open, closing quickly when his cock slaps against your cheek.
It twitches against your face, softening only slightly. When you open your eyes fully, Miguel is sitting up. He’s looking down at you, eyes taking in your face and the all too familiar hero costume sticking to your body. He has a knowing look in his eyes, and you yelp when he grabs you. Your positions are switched quickly, your body bouncing once it hits the bed. Springs squeaking under your weight. You can feel Miguel’s body pressing against your back, his hand snaking to your front and pressing up on your abdomen until your ass is forced against him. You whine as you feel his cock pressing against your ass, and you turn your head over your shoulder to look back at him. His glasses have slid down the bridge of his nose, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he studies your body. Or rather, your suit.
‘So, how does the suit work?” he asks, hands running down your sides. You shiver at the contact, pressing yourself further against him. “How do you put it on? A hidden zipper, maybe?”
You gasp as his hand suddenly and roughly cups your clothed cunt, the heel of his hand pressing against you. You’re so warm there. “Or is it something you have to slip on? Gotta get naked before you can put it on, right? It certainly doesn’t feel like you have any panties on.”
You're at a loss of words, shaking your head and trying to grind against his hand. You didn’t know how desperately you need that pressure against your sex until he put it there. Miguel chuckles, cooing at you. His body presses against your back as he leans forward, warm breath hitting your ear. “I saw you on the news earlier, got sprayed with something, didn’t you? You smell so good.”
Another whine passes your lips when he takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair. You smell sweet, delicious, like sex and candy. His free hand slips up to your chin, forcing your head up. You grind into his hand desperately as his warm tongue licks up your throat. The saliva is sticky on your skin, but you just wished he could lick you everywhere. Maybe it would help your body cool down. Miguel chuckles against your skin again, pulling away.
“God, so needy.” He laughs, pulling his hands away from you completely and loving the way you pathetically fall limp onto his bed. “Don’t tell me it was an aphrodisiac or something.”
You huff against his pillow, trying to back your body more into him. It makes him laugh louder, meaner. His hand comes to wrap around the base of his cock, slapping it against your ass. “Is this what you need? You need a nice, big cock to make it all better? Pathetic.”
Despite his words, he’s smiling. He’s wanted this for so long. It’s only a plus that you, his best friend that he’s been tugging his dick to, is also one of the hottest superheroes in Nueva York. It’s like a fucking wet dream. But here you are, in his room with a desperate need for your pussy to be stuffed to the brim. How could it get any better than this?
“I- Miggy, please,” you breathe out, a flush covering your cheeks at his dirty words. Miguel coos, his hands returning to rub up and down your sides.
“It’s okay, baby. I promise I’ll help it feel better. I’ll make it feel so good.”
You gasp when you feel his hands at the nape of your neck, a loud tear filling the room as he rips your suit down your back. “Hope you got extra at home, cariño.”
It takes a few rough tears to completely expose your backside, Miguel pushing the torn edges away as you pull your arms and legs out of them. He groans at the sight of you: your naked body laying in front of him as the tattered remains of your suit lay around you. Your skin is so warm under his touch, like you’re running a fever. And you’re so responsive, mewling and shivering as he rubs your sides slowly. You look so small under him, so perfect. Your back arches when his hands snake to your front, grasping your breasts. You gasp loudly, your hands pressing your body up from the bed, standing on all fours.
Miguel leans to lay on top of you, pinching and flicking at your horribly hard and sensitive nipples. His teeth are sharp against the lobe of your ear, soothing the sting with kitten licks. You whine when one of his hands leaves your breasts, feeling Miguel twist his head to the side slightly.
“Down, girl,” he commands, a smile evident in his tone as his hand presses on the center of your upper back and your body buckles. You let out a puff of air as your chest hits the mattress again, your hands sliding out from under you. “Good girl, that’s a good spider.”
You huff at the teasing, glaring at him from over your shoulder. He chuckles at your expression, ignoring you as his hand slips away from your chest and ventures further down your body. You stiffen as his fingers stop just above your clit, your thighs aching to close. With a slight stretch, Miguel’s middle finger skims your bud, your hips bucking. Miguel hums in contemplation, his hand moving away despite your whine of frustration. His hands come up to rub your ass, one of his hands moving further down until his fingers are playing with the sloppy mess of your cunt. You sigh in relief, your back arching further.
“God, you’re so wet. Is this all for me, baby?” He coos, watching the way his fingers get completely drenched from a few swipes at your folds. His curiosity gets the better of him, plunging two thick fingers through your throbbing hole. You groan, and Miguel slaps your ass to shut you up.
A wet squelch echos the room when he curls his fingers. As he slowly drags his fingers out, your walls clench in a futile attempt to keep them inside of you, a sad pop coming from your hole when his fingers pull out completely. Miguel holds his fingers up, studying the slight glint of arousal against the moonlight. It drips down his fingers, and Miguel licks the trail up to prevent a further mess. He moans at the taste, sweet and heady. He sucks the rest into his mouth, tongue working around his fingers until they come up clean. He uses the same fingers to smear saliva over the head of his cock, hand dragging it down as he tugs at himself. He shifts behind you, aligning himself until the head of his cock presses against your tiny hole.
“Gonna make it all better now,” Miguel whispers into the air before he thrusts his hips forward. His low groan is drowned by your loud screech, your walls stretching rapidly to accommodate the sudden intrusion. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you bite down on the pillow, the tip of his cock pressing right against your cervix.
Miguel curses when your walls pulsate, molding to his cock. His teeth grit as he looks down, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he watches the way your hole moves as he pulls out slowly. Your hole completely melts around his tip, stretching wide as he suddenly fills you to the brim again. Miguel pushes his glasses up again as he smiles, repeating the movement. You moan loudly despite the pillow in your mouth, your hands grabbing at the sheets to stabilize yourself. Miguel’s hands grab at your ass again, kneading it in his hands as he begins thrusting in a steady rhythm. You melt into the bed, eyes fluttering with each snap of his hips.
A sweat builds on Miguel’s face as he moves his hips, mouth open in a moan each time your walls clench around him in thanks. His glasses slide down his face again, refusing to stay in place no matter how many times he pushes them up. He tires of it quickly, cursing as he rips them off his face and throws them somewhere near your head. His hands leave your ass, coming up to your hands. His palms are against the tops of your hands, his fingers connecting between yours despite the tight hold you have on the sheets. His chest pressed against your back, his forehead pressed against the side of your head as his thrusts speed up. You choke on a moan, your body jolting upward with the force.
“That’s it, taking it like a good, needy slut,” Miguel praises, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, a stark contrast to the way he punishes your dripping cunt. Your walls tighten embarrassingly at his words, making him laugh breathlessly.
The room is deafening with the sound of his pelvis hitting against your ass, his balls slapping at your clit when he goes flush against you. It all mixes together to form the wet squeals from your cunt, your mind going dizzy from it all. Miguel’s hand pulls away from yours, coming up to your throat to force your face away from the pillow. A wet circle surrounded by teeth marks stains his pillow, more abstract lines showing where his cum has rubbed off of your face. He turns your face towards him, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip before pulling you into a heated kiss. His tongue licks at your teeth, tangling with your tongue. Your face presses more into him with each of his thrusts, and you moan pathetically in his mouth as the rubber band inside of you snaps.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you gush around his cock, body breaking in an almost uncomfortable arch as your body twitches. Miguel groans into your mouth as your walls grow tighter and tighter around him, his thrusts getting desperate as he tries to thrust in and out of them. He rips his mouth away from yours as you go to collapse on the bed, your muscles jumping from your orgasm. Miguel’s hand travels to your clit, rubbing in fast circles that overstimulate you. You gasp and cry, your walls confused as they pulsate quickly and trigger another orgasm in seconds. Your hands shake as they let go of the pillow, traveling down to hit and tug at Miguel’s arm.
“T-t’much. Miggy, t’much,” you sob, your muscles prickling.
Miguel hisses at you, removing his arm to hold your waist as he bounces you back on his cock rapidly before he stills. His groan is animalistic as his cock twitches inside of you, painting you in white seed. You moan like an animal in heat as the warmth fills you, your entire body collapsing on the bed in an exhausted pile. You only whine slightly when Miguel gives you a few slow pumps of his cock to ride out his orgasm, forcing his cum deeper inside of you before pulling out. You sigh as you close your eyes, that overbearing warmth that was once consuming your body finally dying away. Miguel lets out ragged breaths over you, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face before squinting his eyes and looking for the outline of the glasses he threw. When he finds them, he slides an arm down his face to get rid of pesky sweat before putting them on, his eyes falling down to your abused cunt just in time to see a bead of cum slip from your hole.
He lets out a heated sigh, turning his head to look for the shirt he discarded on the floor before he went to bed. He reaches for it, balling it in his hands before swiping it against your cum soaked folds. You mewl at the coarse fabric rubbing against your sensitive pussy, but Miguel is too tired to care as he cleans his mess and throws the shirt to the floor again. The front of his boxers has a slight wet ring around his cock, but he makes no move to take them off as he stuffs his softening cock back into its confines. His hand rubs up your back before he moves to lay down besides you, pulling tattered parts of your suit out from under him and onto the floor. Exhaustion fans his body as he turns to his side and pulls your limp body into his chest.
“Need to talk about this Spider-Woman shit in the morning,” he mumbles into your hair as he closes his eyes. You only hum, shifting into his warmth.
Yeah, definitely.
Nasty! Dirty!
#cherry's requests🍒#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#spiderman 2099#miguel o hara#miguel atsv#miguel x you#miguel ohara#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel 2099#miguel ohara x reader smut#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spiderman 2099 smut
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𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔞
(the fan art is from @RamiroAart on X!)
+18 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader
summary: after taking your car to get an oil change with your debit card not working, you offer a solution to the mechanic.
content warning: this is a bit taboo, so I'm putting a SMALL WARNING HERE. Proceed with PRECAUTION. miguel wears a virgencita necklack, pussy slapping, cunnilingus (f! recieving), overstimulation, fingering, semi-public (he fucks you in a garage, but it's closed), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it, people). If I miss any, let me know.
word count: +1.4k words
author’s notes: there have been so many changes to this, it's not even funny 😳
Oil changes. They will be the epitome for you. The visits to the mechanics near your house were always dreaded, especially since they reminded you of doctor visits. But instead of paying a small co-pay of ten or twenty dollars, your car costs more than life itself regarding its separate parts.
But paying for it? Your poor little debit card couldn't get a good read of the PIN reader. So what do you do? Give the mechanic an offer he can't skip.
“Compórtate bien, muñeca o te voy a castigar.”
The once-open entryway of the mechanic’s shop is now closed. But your legs? They were wide open to a munch. The man who changed your oil is now going down on you like a hungry dog. “Your pussy is so pretty…” He mumbles. You felt yourself squirm on the hood of your car, feeling his fingers hover at your entrance, with the tips of his fingers gathering the clear discharge.
Moving his fingers away, he laid his tongue flat against your entrance, moving from the bottom to the top, letting his tongue linger on your puffy clit. While sucking on your clit, the sensation of something cool lightly tap at your core, causing you to squirm. “Let's move her out of the way…” Miguel pulls away before you see the thing that dangled at your entrance. With swift hands, he maneuvered the virgencita charm away and to the nape of his neck. “We don't want her to see this.”
“What?” You whined, soon propping yourself on the hood and looking at Miguel going down on you once again, eat you out like you were the last meal of his life. With one hand, you buried your hand into his hair and let out a loud groan. He pauses momentarily, feeling your gaze. He pulls away, looks up at you from where he is, and chuckles. “Que asquerosa,” He darkly chuckles. With a heavy hand, he slaps at your puffy bundle of nerves, earning a yelp from you. “You wanna see me fuck you? You want to see?” He placed his fingers against the irritated skin, massaging the irritation slowly.
A tiny groan escaped before you covered your mouth quickly. “Let’s prep you, okay?”
One finger suddenly became two, feeling yourself getting ready for your sweet release. “Please…” You whined, grinding yourself on his fingers.
“Hmm, should I add a third finger?” He chuckles before a sharp, stretching pain greets you as his three fingers bottom out and slowly pump you. A scream fills the space before Miguel covers your mouth with his free hand. “Shh, shh. I know, muñeca.” He whispers, keeping up the slow pace. “I have to prep you for me, okay?” He moves his hand away from your mouth and places it on your hip, getting a good grip on you, not allowing you to squirm on the hood of your car.
The same build-up on your lower stomach came back to you, making you moan out loud for anyone to hear. “Please, please.” You plead, guiding your hips up and down on his fingers, relieving yourself. “Why are you begging? You're doing the work yourself.” He chuckled at the sight before him, seeing you watch yourself pleasing yourself and building up more arousal on his fingers. “Enough cariño. My turn.”
/
“You know what you do to me.” He whispers, getting you comfortable. Being bent over a table with your pussy out in the open while being face-down felt humiliating, but you felt giddy. The sound of a belt clinking behind you and a zipper going down heightened your senses and made your mouth water. One of Miguel’s hands gripped your hip, with the other hand nowhere on your body. You looked over your shoulder but got something else in return. With a heavy hand, a loud spank at your pussy fills the space. You turned back to look at the table below you and kept in your moan instead, biting down on your lips.
“C’mon, let me hear those pretty little noises you make…” A harsh, hot pain hits again, almost as if you were a strong stallion needing to be tamed down. The more the hits became close to your entrance, the louder your wanton cries became.
“You like getting spanked here…” His fingers gently rub at the red marks, giving you a moment to breathe. “Now, be a good girl and open up.” The feeling of his fingers spreading your entrance is enough to make you shudder and wait for what you've been wanting ever since you entered this mechanic's shop. A nudge against your entrance before a lowly aching pain overwhelmed you.
Propping yourself up against the table, you exhaled but soon bucked your hips toward his length and slowly sliding his length without holding back.
“There you go. Take your time, muñeca…”
You stopped yourself, not even letting his length halfway in. “Is it in?” You breathed.
A laugh escapes the mechanic, playfully patting your rear. “More or less.” He breathes, feeling your walls flutter at his length. “You’re not going to fit…” You whined, feeling him push his length inside you and his girth stretch you, painful but pleasurable.
“I’ll make it fit…” He shushed you, patting his hand on your hip. He slides into you, groaning in relief, seeing his length disappear into you.
Your mouth is agape, feeling you buck your hips back, wanting more. “C’mon—” Miguel’s words fade as a knock on the garage door greets the two of you, with Miguel being nearly balls-deep in your cooch.
“Keep silent, muñeca.” He whispers, slowly thrusting into you before the tempo increases. The knock came back, but Miguel ignored it, making your pleasure a priority. You let out a quiet whine, only for Miguel to reach over to cover your mouth immediately. “Keep it quiet, do you understand?” You nod eagerly, moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eventually, the person leaves, allowing the two of you a sense of comfort.
Beads of sweat landed on your bare back as your breathing became more labored, and you felt the same sensation on your lower stomach returned to you. “Fuck, you're tight…” He lets out a breathy whisper, nearly fucking you onto his work table. The force of his hips against you is nearly enough to knock over some of his tools, letting them shake and knock over onto the wooden desk.
“Tómalo… ay carajo…” He groans as you bounce back, creating a loud, wet sound throughout the shop. Looking down, Miguel could see at the base of his cock, forming a white ring, a combination of his cum and your clear discharge. “C’mon, come. You can do it, cariño.” His sweet praises are brushed aside as your moans evolve into screams of pleasure.
“C’mon, make me proud.”
The girth and the way his length rubs against your clit soon because too much for you, allowing you to finish. A sudden splash zone onto Miguel was the thing he least expected, feeling your juices coax his length and creating a puddle underneath the two of you. “Good girl…” He breathes before he continues to thrust into you, wanting to chase his release.
“I’m almost done. Give me a second…” The motions became more harsh and rapid, earning a scream of pleasure and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Another release from you soaked the two of you, mostly on Miguel’s upper thigh, and lower stomach a bit. “She still got it.” He chuckles before he bucked his hips against yours harshly. “Want me to fuck a baby into you?” He croons, moving harsher and faster.
You nod, too cock-drunk to give him words. “Use your words.” He gave you a harsh spank on your rear, causing you to open your mouth. “Fuck yes! Oh God, fuck yes!” You scream out, soon kegeling his cock. “Fuck! You got me fucked up…” Miguel groans into your ear, keeping the same place. The sensation of his load crashing into your orgasm creates a mess between the two of you.
After a moment, the sensation of him pulling out made you whine, and you soon felt his load slowly seep out of your flutter hole. You whimper and soon get greeted by a gentle kiss from him. His fingers gently gather his seeping cum and shove it back into you. “Keep it all in. I don't want to leave a mess.”
Ironic to say that now.
#miguel o'hara#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader smut#miguel ohara smut#spiderman 2099 smut#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#across the spiderverse#miguel fanfic#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel x you#miguel x y/n
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miguel o’hara bites down on your shoulder while fucking you to quiet his whimpers
his little fangs digging into your neck, marking you
all the bites and hickeys all on your neck and shoulder
I LOVE HIM SM 😭
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 smut#atsv
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So Good
Kinktober Day 17: Praise Kink
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, fingering (r!recieving), praise kink of course, Miguel has a filthy fucking mouth, shy!reader, miguel going feral because of course he does (w/c: 1.2K)
A/N: Back on my Miguel bullshit for my Kinktober catch-up of course. I cannot help it when he is so big and broad and sexy okay??? Anyway enjoy him goin' feral for his girl for 1k words hehehe (For the month, I have been following this list from flightlessangelwings!)
He first noticed it after a mission, and cursed himself for never seeing it before.
It had been innocent, tugging you close to his side as you both walked through the portal back to HQ, whispering a “you did good out there,” into your ear. Innocent enough.
But you had practically squeaked, your eyes looking anywhere but him, nearly pulling out of his grasp. Miguel saw how your thighs clenched together at the compliment, and it takes everything in him not to take you in the hallway right then, bury his face between them.
He doesn’t. He opts for filing it away in his mind, saving the information for later, somehow knowing that it would be important.
You both hadn’t been together for very long then, still in the trial stage of this new beautiful thing between you both. He was still hesitant to kiss you then, you had still been hesitating to go to his apartment with him.
But Miguel watches, waits, and of course, gathers more information. Starts complimenting you more on missions, in the office. Tells you what good work you’ve done, how you look so pretty in the new dress he bought you. It makes you fluster nearly immediately, your gaze pinned to the floor as you smile shyly, and fuck, those gorgeous, gorgeous thighs clench together every time. Taunting him.
Finally, after months of watching, waiting, he gives in.
He’s got you spread out beneath him, practically sobbing as he fucks you deep on his thick fingers. You loosen up so easily for him, desperate for it, your slick fucking dripping around his hand. Finally, after so long waiting to tell you exactly what goes on in his mind when he has you like this, he lets himself speak aloud.
“So good, hermosa, taking me so well,” he murmurs, and watches as your eyes fly open, a strangled moan flying from your lips. He can’t help the smile that plays at his lips. “You like that baby? Like hearing how good you are, how perfect you sound when I’m playing with this gorgeous pussy?” He can fucking feel the way your cunt clenches around his fingers with his words.
“Fuck, oh my God, Miguel-” you gasp, but you can’t seem to help yourself as you grind your hips towards Miguel’s hand. He adds another finger, stretching you wide to take his cock. “You- you can’t just-”
Miguel growls, leaning forward to nip at your jaw with fanged teeth. “Oh baby, of course I can. I can tell you how fucking good this pussy feels around my fingers, how it’s going to feel even better around my cock. This little cunt gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?” You whine wordlessly, and Miguel grinds the calloused pads of his fingers into that sweet spot that makes you fucking scream for him. “Answer me,” he snarls.
“Yes! Yes, ‘m so fucking wet, need you to fuck me so bad, Miguel,” you cry, humping your hips desperately into his hand, chasing your orgasm.
“Come on, sweetheart, soak my fucking hand,” he says, deep and dark, his eyes trained on the way your entrance leaks around his fingers. He reaches a thumb up to rub hard circles into your clit, and chuckles darkly when you let out a shaky moan with your orgasm, clenching around his thick fingers and somehow getting even wetter.
“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he mumbles, and your eyelids flutter shut, trying to breathe through the aftershocks.
Miguel pulls his hand out of your gaping entrance, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking your slick off his fingers. “Tastes so good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine softly under your breath, completely at a loss for words.
Leaning down, he licks into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself as he notches the thick, leaking head of his cock to your entrance, pushing in, in, in.
Like every time you take him, it’s so much, and you gasp into his mouth as his cock reaches so deep inside, spreading you wide enough that you fear you’ll break.
“I know, amorcita, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” he whispers against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. "You’re taking it so well for me though, baby, so fucking good for me.”
He can’t help the groan that wrenches its way out of his throat when you clench around him like a vice, moaning high in the back of your throat. His hips move of their own accord, pulling slowly out of you before he shoves himself back in, and it feels like he reaches even deeper.
“God, Miguel-” you moan, “it feels so good, you feel so big.” And Miguel’s vision blurs at the edges, his eyes tingeing red at your words.
He loses himself to it, the way your cunt squeezes him every time he pushes inside, hot and tight and fucking maddening. You claw at his shoulders every time he presses deep, grinding the tip of his cock into your cunt while overwhelming pleasure sparks up your spine.
He wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, tugging you up into a nearly impossible arch as he fucks into you like a goddamn animal, your head pressed back into the pillows. “So fucking perfect,” he snarls, and God, he’s not even talking to you anymore. His eyes are unfocused, wild, unable to focus on your face or the sight of your swollen pussy as you take him over and over and over. But he doesn’t stop talking.
“Fucking perfect, beautiful girl, taking my cock so goddamn well. My fucking girl, so good to me with her perfect pussy, feels so good, Dios, necesito este cuerpo constantemente, mi nena, mierda-”
Your head swims, blood pounding in your ears as he takes and takes and takes. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, choked moans forcing their way from your lungs.
Your orgasm rips through you without warning, without buildup, your body just locking up and electrified like a livewire as you soak his cock, his thighs.
“Good girl,” he rasps. “That’s my good fucking girl.”
“Shit- Miguel-” you keen, but he only shushes you, nearly hissing through his fangs, as he pushes as deep as he can into your body, pumping you full as his cock pulses inside of you. It’s fucking everything, pure bliss, and you both tremble through it together. He lowers your hips slowly back down to the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside while you quake through the aftershocks.
Time passes, but you can’t tell how fast it does. Only that you try to match your breathing together, Miguel wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers, but you’re too fucked out to respond.
He pulls out slowly, rolling you to your side, and plastering himself to your back. You can hear the way he breathes you in, and you settle into his warm body.
“Got a thing for compliments, baby?” he murmurs into your hair.
“You ass, I was trying to be subtle about that,” you admonish, but you can’t help the way you smile.
“Can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. You tilt your head to the side, and Miguel leans to meet you in a kiss.
“I’ve still got my secrets, O’Hara,” you mutter against his lips, and Miguel grins.
“If you say so, baby.”
#oh miguel with your tortured soul and big dick#let me fix you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 smut#across the spiderverse fic#across the spiderverse smut
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The Prey and the Predator
a/n: first time writing smut, so I am new here! I'll try my best 🪱
Wrd Cnt: I dunno ^-^
Warnings: breeding kink, aftercare, oral, spanking, choking, little bdsm, dom!Miguel, sub!reader, fang kink, size kink, stomach bulge, blood-play, hair pulling, suffocation?, p with plot? prob more. MDNI !
Summary: Miguel has been trying to catch you after you have been messing up with the timeline. You're an obnoxious villain most say. You have quite a hunch on Miguel and you love playing around with him, he caught your eye so attentively and you love seeing him angry. Miguel has had enough with this stubbornness of yours and wants to catch you once and for all to stop messing up his plans.
enjoy <3
This was the 5th time today you've messed with him. Miguel was seriously starting to get fed up with your games. He tried to catch you multiple times but you have an invisibility power. You love treating him like a dog on a leash, always coming towards you. You have messed with many other people before but it hasn't been as much as fun as this, you love seeing him angry. Sometimes you stalk him to see what his plans are. You are always near him, just invisible. Since he lacks Spidey sense it makes things much more easier. But he's very attentive with sound because he has enhanced senses.
"I'm so fucking done with her fucking games and bullshit. She's so fucking annoying. Ya es la quinta vez que ha hecho esto." Miguel said while heavily sighing with irritation. "Si lo vuelve acer.. la voy acer que se arrepienta."
You giggled as you kept rewinding the face that Miguel would do whenever he was pissed. You find him quite interesting that you want to prey on him more and see how far his tolerance limit can go. You quit trying to deny your attraction to him cause god his physique drives you insane. Your body is desperately wanting for his grasp on your throat.
As the next day passes, you decide to continue your daily annoyance in messing up his plans to remove every anomaly in the wrong universe. You follow him around about everywhere when you have nothing better to do. You cause him ton of stress by causing ruckus in many different universes. Thing is, he's starting to catch onto your patterns. Which will soon lead him to finally grab a hold on you.
You fortunately make a 'small' ruckus by causing another anomaly to escape from the HQ. Miguel and other spiders are working on a mission to catch this villain while you stand back watching it like a movie. He already knows it was you because your patterns are always consistent. You rest so carelessly, not worrying about a single thing. Your eyes intoxicatingly staring deep into Miguel. You're basically craving him to the point you touch yourself at the thought of him.
It's midnight by now and you're crouching down on the floor in a abandoned broken down building in a random universe. You just couldn't get the thought of him wandering his hands around your body. Touching every crevice of it. You couldn't hold back anymore and touched your core. Rubbing it with your palms slowly but with a rhythmic pace, you start heavily panting out of frustration as it's not enough for your satisfaction of immense pleasure you desire.
You desperately want more so you remove your pants and pull your red undergarments to the side. Using your slick wetness as lube to rub your clit in slow circles. You roll your head back and you whimper lightly.
You stick your fingers inside your cunt, feeling some relief of pleasure but not enough. You start chasing your high as your mind starts to drift to Miguel pounding you so unrelentingly with no mercy. You start moaning his name as a prayer between gasps. Your stomach starts to feel a tight snap and ecstacy washes over your body. You pant stiffly and rub off your cum on your suit.
"God, I seriously cannot believe I'm doing this...this is so fucking embarrassing for me." You say with an expression of disappointment.
You go a couple of days without messing with Miguel because you just can't seem to control yourself whenever he's near you, even when he doesn't know you're there. So you decide to pay him a visit at the HQ and see what thing you should do today. You're unusually nervous this time, wondering if you'll mess anything up. You feel so incredibly queasy around him now.
As you find a portal, you sneak your way in with your invisibility power. You see Miguel watching and scrolling thru some screens and you just can't stop glaring at him sitting on his desk. You had a sudden urge to just climb on top of him and straddle him with your hips. You started having lewd thoughts and you started having a pool of arousal grow the more you stood there.
Little did you know, Miguel could sniff your wetness. He knew it was you because he remembers your scent. As he scrolls through the perspective cams, he finally shuts them down. He pretends he's not aware you're in the same room with him, in his office. Alone together.
"Didn't figure I'd finally catch you." Miguel said with a sly smirk. "You are such a fucking intolerance that I can't stand, I mean you mess with my missions half of the time..god you're such an annoyance! You know that right?" He said while walking closer towards you.
Until out of nowhere, he immediately uses his red lasso and webs to pin you onto a wall. You audibly gasp because you find this completely unexpected. You quickly start thinking what caused him to find what place you were at. How did he know you were there? This was unusual because other times you were around him, he didn't do anything. But your arousal just began to grow even wetter.
"H-how did you know I was here?!?" You said with worry. "I promise I was just playing around, I didn't mean anything horrible. I p-promise, please don't hurt me!" You beg. You try getting out of his grasp but your hands are winded behind your back. You hate to admit it but you're getting even more turned on by this.
"Ay cariño... podía oler tu excitación..Hueles tan bien..como dulce..por fin te tengo en la palma de mis manos amor.." He says while chuckling lowly.
You were struggling to get out his web, your eyes still on his, watching him creep closer to you second by second. Your heart starts racing so fast when he's above you. Miguel is so much more taller than you. You only understood a bit of Spanish but god did you adore his accent.
"Stay still f'me, mi vida. Vuevles aver me? Ya sé que te encantó haciendo estos juegos, muñeca. Queda quieta..stay still.." Miguel says with a tone of lustfulness.
"Please Miguel, I really meant no harm..please let me go. " You keep babbling incoherent words because the only thing you can focus on is his collarbone, his amazing physique. His biceps flex with every move, god how badly you want him to choke you with his hands. His prominent veins also catch your eyes. You observe every aspect of him especially what's between his thighs.
You hold back a stifled moan just from staring at him. Your mind starts racing with so many ways this could possibly go.
"You shouldn't have messed with me, amor. You should always keep in mind how your actions always come with consequences, right cariño? Y'know.. you really caused me a lot of stress these past few days. It's not so easy catching a dangerous anomaly almost everyday, muneca." He said while his muscles begin to tense. He absolutely loved the way he caged over your small body. He could just eat you right then and there.
"Mejor un sabor de tu coño me hace sentir mejor, bebé." His tone dripping with amusement.
"M-miguel.. I don't think you're thinking straight. Okay! I'm sorry about what I've done, I won't do it ever again!"
"Oh I promise you won't do it ever again. I should teach you a lesson. Will you be a good girl for me?"
You try your best to not give into your deep pleasures, so you continue to put up your arrogant side. "Miguel, you wouldn't dare to touch me because you don't know what horrible things I would do this place! I will ruin you!" You yell with fake confidence.
Miguel chuckles darkly. "Not if I ruin you first cariño. Look how cute you look squirming. I think I would love to keep you around as a stress relief toy, què no? I think you and I would both enjoy that." Miguel finally stands infront of you and crouches to your height.
"mmm, smell so good.. let me fill you up, amor. I could smell you miles away..you're so wet for me. You know you want this."
You try denying it as much as you could, you couldn't believe what Miguel was even uttering. Your brain starts fogging up and you finally give up.
"I-i do Miguel. I crave you. I can't hold myself anymore whenever I see you, I want your cock inside me please Miguel." You beg.
"Such a needy little slut aren't you? You want this cock so bad..don't you?" You nod slowly, biting your lower lip. Miguel finally released you from his webs and you immediately flop to the ground on your hands and knees. You look at him through your lashes.
"You look so pretty on your knees for me, cariño. I should do something with that pretty mouth of yours, que no? " He said with a sneer spreading across his face.
"Please Miguel do anything to me.." You say with a whimper in your voice. You're starting to get impatient and your cunt is now soaking wet, longing for something long and girthy inside of you. Your lips hang open. You stare at his crotch and approach your hands to his bulge. God, he was huge.
He slaps your hands away from approaching him. "Who said you could do that, amor? I'm the one who controls around here. You'll do anything I'll say like a good girl right?" Miguel said while huffing, your position on your knees has him holding every restraint he has left in him. "Si Miguel." You say.
He presses his index finger on your chin, lifting it up to face him. "Remember no teasing cariño, only I do that. Do that and you'll get a punishment." Miguel removed his suit and his physique was even more amazingly sculpted. His boxers were then brought to his knees and his cock sprung free. The brown tip leaking with pre-cum. It's begging to be sucked.
You part your lips open and hold onto his length, both of your hands don't even cover him. You lick his pre-cum from the tip like a kitten. You do circles with your tongue on his tip, making him more sensitive.
Miguel's mind starts fogging up with what many things he wants to do to that pretty little pussy of yours and make you his slut.
You then try taking his length in your warm, silky mouth, his cock twitching, begging for more warmth. As you take half of him in your throat, you bob your head up and down in a rhythmic pace. You stroke the rest of him that doesn't fit inside your mouth. You start moaning and panting when you take him, you try going even deeper. Your throat starts choking.
You then look up at Miguel. He has the most lustful expression you've ever seen. His eyebrows are furrowed together, he's biting his lips. Staring deep into your soul with his crimson eyes.
"Ay muñeca, me haces.. fuck.. sentir mejor.." He said while looking down at your small figure taking his length slowly. Miguel was tired with teasing and was barely holding by a thread from throat fucking your throat.
You release your lips around him to breathe. A string of pre-cum from your lips and his cock made him finally lose it. Miguel couldn't hold himself back anymore. All of his morals go out the window as he violently bucks his hips against your throat. Mounts of tears start to stream down your face as his cock runs so deep and warm down your throat. It hurts as first but it then drives you insane.
The sound of sucking and popping echoes through the room. He's so close, you can feel it. You look up at him, battering your wet lashes at him. Taking him like a good girl, you thought.
His head rolls back and his jaw tightens as he's reaching his limit. Your throat wrapping around his cock made him twitch uncontrollably. Your soft tongue swirling around him also aroused him. Miguel was holding onto the wall to stay still because your throat feels so amazing. He starts wondering how euphoric your pussy must feel.
He then loudly groans and curses in Spanish under his breath as he thrusts one more time down your throat to spread his seed. His cum tastes salty then sweet. It's a treat for you. You drink all of his cum, swirling your tongue around his cock, making sure you take every last droplet.
"Mierda..eres magnífica, ma." He says while heavily panting. "Your throat fits my cock perfectly." Miguel looks at you up and down hungrily. He then grabs your arm and places you on top of his desk. He throws everything on the floor. You're his only focus now.
You're cunt is throbbing for something, it feels so empty. You haven't been able to satisfy yourself so you run your hands to rub your clothed clit but Miguel slaps your ass before you do.
"Only I can do that, mi vida. You can't touch yourself without my permission. Ahora.. quítate la ropa." He said with heavy impatience. The idea aroused you.
You do so, you slowly tease him as you remove your suit. Going from top to bottom. Removing every clothing off your body. Miguel hungrily follows your curves. He eyes you so lustfully. You're now fully naked in front of him. He can't stop staring at your pussy. Miguel's gaze is almost unreadable.
Suddenly, he grabs your throat, almost choking you. You try talking but you just give up because you enjoy this too much to even talk back. "What did I say about teasing me cariño? I thought you were going to be a good slut for me.. y'know I don't wanna play games with you anymore."
You moan as his grip remains on your stronger and your body hitched as the cold air washes over you. Your nipples are perked up, begging for some attention. "Now let me touch you, princessa." Miguel kneels down and whispers "puta madre, eres una maravilla.." at your cunt. His warm breath makes you twitch. You can't hold back anymore and want some sort of touch. His fingers separate your lips to see your glistening cunt. His dark, crimson eyes bore into yours as he pushed two fingers up your pretty cunt.
"You're so wet... are you that needy for my cock, princessa?" He said while smirking devilsly. Your back immediately arched back when he licked your slick wetness. He licked and sucked softly on your clit. He swirls his tongue around your clit in circles, driving you insane. You desperately want more so you buck your hips against his face and grab onto his hair. Miguel slaps your pussy again. "What did I tell you, princessa, be a good slut for daddy." "No one else will ever suck your pretty pussy this good like me, ma, nobody." You let out a loud moan as he slides in his girthy, scarred fingers inside your plushy, soft walls.
" M-miguel.." a soft whimper fell from your lips as you pull his hair between your thighs. He can't wait to stuff his big cock inside your soft, warm pussy. He wants you to beg for him, ache for him, moan his name like a prayer continuously. He goes a steady pace, sliding his fingers in and out while licking your clit. You feel so amazing, you roll your head and your eyes to the back of your skull as you feel your dirty desires finally being fulfilled. Miguel bit the inside of your thighs with his fangs, marking you his and his only.
His cock twitched at the feeling of your soft, silky walls around his fingers, tightening around him. "Look at your cunt.. fuck cariño, tightening around me like a needy bitch. Hm? Tell me how bad you want my cock, ma. Beg for it."
"P-please Miguel, I want your fucking cock inside of my cunt, make me your slut. Fuck me already please." You say while you mewl and whine as his fingers starts sliding in faster than before, you feel something familiar in your lower abdomen. You feel something coming up and you finally snap. You moan loud throughout your orgasm, your legs start twitching uncontrollably as you tighten your thighs around Miguel's head. "M-miguel please stop!" You whine. You started to feel so overstimulated when Miguel sucks your clit, attentively watching your expressions. You try pushing him off but your strength doesn't budge. You start slightly tearing up as you feel you'll completely crumble to pieces and pass out. Miguel finally stops.
"Todavía quieres que juega con tu coño, ma? Sabes tan rica. Cómo dulce caramelo. Eres mia." He said gruffly. "Look at me, mama." You face your eyes at his, begging him to fuck you without mercy just with your eyes. His cock is twitching and he couldn't hold back no more. "Use your words, ma.. do you want my cock?" He grins. He teased you with his cock as he runs it up and down your slick cunt. "Yes Miguel, ple-", you were cut off as he immediately thrusted into your pussy without warning. You screamed out of immense pleasure. "F-FUCK." You've never felt this full before, he took up all the air in your lungs in a second as he started thrusting hard into your cervix. You were now uncontrollably mewing and whining his name non-stop.
"Such a pretty pussy just for me. All mine..look how your dirty pussy keeps sucking me in, princessa.. mierda.." You try rolling your hips at his dick to receive even more friction but he slaps your ass harshly. Over and over, making you scream. "Que te dije, amor." Miguel keeps staring when his cock enters your pussy deep after each thrust. Your hips feel like completely giving up, if it weren't for him holding onto your hips and waist, you would've fallen by now. Your eyes bore into Miguel's eyes and he does the same. He loved seeing how he made you feel, your facial expressions of gasping and panting.. begging for more, made his dick harden. The skin to skin contact drew you and him insane, he started becoming primal. Animalistic.
He loves how his cock feels balls deep inside your warm walls. Sliding easily in and out. Your eyes couldn't stop rolling back as your hips twitched against his. Miguel then started teasing your perked nipples, that finally received some attention. His mouth sucked on your tits, hungrily. He would softly bite it to get more of a reaction out of you. You were even more turned on as he would rest his neck on your shoulder. Kissing your neck, leaving you with hickeys everywhere. He brought out his fangs to taste you even more.
You yelped when his fangs sunk deep into you skin, you felt so intoxicated by the overwhelming pleasure when he start sucking your blood. Your body was starting to limp. He wouldn't let go of his fast space. He starts grabbing a strong hold of your throat and hair. He wanted you all over his body. He pulls your chest to his chest, reaching more amazing spots.
"M-miguel! Please.. I can't take anymore.. please stop, please Miguel it's too m-much f'me." You feel his bulge stick out of your stomach. You wondered how he even fits inside you. "No muñeca..I know you can take this like a good slut, your pussy wants this. Don't deny it." Miguel pants."M-miguel please!" You whine as it pleasure slowly becomes overwhelming for you. Without having another say, he immediately flips you on your chest on his desk, bringing your ass up and tying your hands behind your back so you wouldn't intefere. You found yourself almost collapsing just to the touch of his body weighing down in yours. "I can do anything I want to you, you're my slut. You're my slut! Say it!" Miguel says while panting as he managed to slam even deeper into your cunt at this angle. He grabs your throat, making you face him. "Dígalo, mi corazón. Say you're my pretty little dirty slut." "M-miguel, I'm your fucking..s-slut." You slur your words as you could barely hold words in your throat. Your moans would pronounce Miguel's name incoherently over and over.
The sounds of moaning and skin slapping against each other echoes throughout the room. "feels s'good fuck..mierda. Look what you do to me." You endlessly mewl and whine and moan loudly as he continues to slam his girthy cock, hitting your g-spot. Your back manages to arch even more. Allowing him to go deeper inside you than you ever imagined was even possible.
His hands travel to your clit, rubbing it so slowly. Your mouth is completely agape, gasping for air. He leaves soft kisses down your spine and you shiver as he marks you again with his fangs on your shoulders. His talons begin to tightly grip your hips. Leaving bruises on it for later. The low growls of his whiny voice caused you clench tighter around his cock, causing him to twitch. You were so close, you felt it and he did too.
"Going to fill this pretty pussy full of my cum, princess. Cum for me cariño, do it for me. Make me feel good. Want your pussy to tighten around me." With those words being said, your legs and pussy spasm uncontrollably around his rough, thick cock.
He continued thrusting a few more times inside you, overstimulating you beyond the edge. Both of your bodies emit groans, growls, gasps, and pleasurable moans. "F-fuck I'm so c-close, baby..god. Mierda, amo tu coño." He finally cums inside your pussy, the overwhelming pleasure makes you faint for a while. Miguel finally pulls out and groans as he sees his semen leak out your pussy. "I want you to be full of me.." He pushed two fingers up your cunt to make sure his cum would stay there. He pumps his cum back into your womb.
You now fall completely unconscious as the overwhelmed pleasure took over you. A couple hours later, you wake up next to Miguel. He was staring at you sleeping. You try getting up but Miguel placed you back down on the bed. "No baby, your body needs to rest. You're tired. If you want anything, just ask me muñeca." He said while smiling. You never saw this caring side of him, you loved it already. "Why were you staring at me sleeping, Miguel?" You said with a raspy voice. "You look angelic all the time, cariño. Even when moaning my name." He said while smirking. You feel your cheeks heating up as you vividly remember everything from last night. It was so intense that your body was so sore. For now, all that mattered is that Miguel is with you, taking care of you.
A/n: THAT WAS A LOT for my first time, hope u guys enjoy :3 translations below!
Translations: "cariño": sweetheart
"Muñeca": doll
"Mierda": fuck
"Princessa"- princess
"Amo tu coño": I love your pussy.
"Dígalo mi corazón": Say it, my love
"Que te dije amor": What did I tell you, love
"Todavía quieres que juega con tu coño, ma? Sabes tan rica. Cómo dulce caramelo. Eres mia" : You still want me to play with your pussy, ma? You taste so good. Like caramel candy. You're mine.
"Puta madre, eres una maravilla." -- Holy shit, you're so amazing.
"Ahora. Quítate la ropa." -- Now. Take off your clothes.
"Ya es la quinta vez que ha hecho esto." - It's already the 5th time she's done this.
"Si lo vuelve acer.. la voy acer que se arrepienta." - If ehe does it again... I'm make her regret.
#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#miguel x reader#smut#hehe oops#:33333#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#my pookie#Spotify
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riding dad’s best friend!miguel’s thigh right after you leave your parents’ dinner next door.
“you ready, baby? talk to me.” straddling his thick thigh all warm and tight while his hands are firmly gripping onto each side of your hips, ready to guide you through his praises and movements. “mhm.. i feel you.” he could tell you were already excited. you were practically dripping down from your inner thighs, your slick soaking up his jeans.
“tsk tsk, already whining and you haven’t moved a bit. you need it so bad? look so pathetic already, dumb girl.” all it took was a simple phrase to get you going. to get you whimpering under his touch. the rasp of his voice telling you how pretty and pathetic you looked sat on top of him. “go on. do it yourself.” his eyes watched you as your hips began to rock against him, sitting back and observing how you were using him to get yourself off.
what a poor thing. using your dad’s best friend to get yourself off. you couldn’t do it yourself so you resorted to the next best thing to your fingers; his body. it wasn’t any better than he made you do it yourself. no, he refused to touch you. he refused to give up his cock so easily for you. to listen to every single word he let slip out. “so fuckin’ needy.” every degrading one, every praise, everything had you on the tip of your toes. you were so close yet so far from your high, and he loved to witness you fall apart just like that.
#dbf!miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#atsv miguel#spiderman#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman smut#spiderman across the verse#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara
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miguel being absolutely pussy drunk off of you, unable to move himself from between your legs 🍓
"m-miggy," you weakly protest, your hands fisting his hair as you try to push his head away from your abused cunt. your thighs are trying to close around his head, desperately trying to fight the never-ending pleasure miguel seems set on giving you. "no more, n-no more!"
miguel looks absolutely wrecked between your legs. his hair is a mess from your hands constantly running through it, plus the few strands stuck to his sweaty forehead. those red eyes are glaring at you, but you can barely even see the red, his pupils blown wide. and the entire bottom of his face is covered in your sticky slick making his pretty face glisten as his mouth sucks, licks, and kisses all over the mess between your thighs.
"nononono, baby, cariño, corazón, princesa," he chided, removing his mouth from your messy slit to talk to you. "stop closing these legs, 'm not done." it was so easy for him to spread your legs again, his hands forcing them apart.
he groans when his eyes flick down to the mess, seeing how you were still leaking so much for him, how swollen and pretty your pussy looked. "mierda...so fucking cute," he growls, his thick tongue licking a stripe up your slit. another debauched groan leaves him, your taste addicting.
"m-miggy, i can't cum anymore," you sobbed, still trying to run away from his mouth. the sheets under you were sopping wet from how much slick was leaking out of you, paired with the amount of drool dripping from miguel's mouth.
"you can come again, you only came twice, baby," he murmured between kisses to your clit, licking his lips to taste you. "give me more. por favor, cariño? give me more, i wanna taste you, wanna feel this needy little cunt cream on my tongue."
#miguel ohara smut#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099 smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara hcs#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara hcs#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel x you#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#✮ ── temptworks.
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Dr. Michael Stone
Mad Scientist variant! Miguel O'Hara x Spider!f! Reader
art by @Spiderthingcoo on X
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Smut, Breeding Kink, Mild dub-con, Oral sex (F receiving), possessive behaviors, rough electroplay, Questionable morals, Dark Miguel, manhandling, yandere scientist (I guess?) P in V, isolation, edging, female anatomy, Nipple play, dumbification, Michael Stone is a walking redflag. No proofread, objectification, power play.
Summary: From all the variants of Miguel you could've encountered, you met him.
A|N: Inspired by @Spiderthingcoo and Halloween ✨
Pt. 2
Clink
The sound repetitive and echoing in your hazy mind, luring you out of the slumber you had been forced to. Eyes heavy with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.
A sharp inhale gave you enough courage to part your lids enough to reckon your surroundings. Blurry and wet eyesight slowly came into a focus and clear view of where you were. A lab.
How had you ended up here? Where was Miguel? Why wasn't Lyla making fun of your passing?
The explosion, of course.
A weakened groan escaped past dry and chapped lips, while your mind tried to recollect and organize the memories it created before going on a blackout.
The mission was simple, try and track the anomaly. Rhino. But the villian wasn't up for dialogue and had sent you flying against a wall, damaging your watch. Miguel had promised to fix it once you were back at HQ.
But the damage had been severe enough to not only electrocute you, but to cause an explosion within the already open portal. A boom powerful enough to throw you out of the current timeline and swallow you into another one, much to Miguel's distress. And then, nothing.
Pure black darkness.
Pristine white walls elegantly dressed with technology you had never seen before. The machine whirrings and hummings kept your eyes wandering from one extreme to another, trying to find anything that would be out of place. To your dismay, nothing indicated to be in such state.
Except for one thing.
Sitting in a simple chair, was a man clad in white, blending in with his environment. If it wasn't for his titanium rimmed glasses and their reflection, his tan skin and a very familiar looking face, he'd go undetected under your radar.
But your ever trusting spider senses alerted you of his presence. His red eyes bore into you, stalking, awaiting; preying. Impassiveness and stoicism plastered on his beautiful face.
A glacial chill ran down your spine.
"M-Miguel?" You rasped in the admist of your drowsiness
The man's eye glinted, dangerous and curious as he stood. His hair wavy and silky, graciously slicked back, His smirk deepened as he walked right before you, watching you with such marvel it made your breath hitch.
"Michael." The Boss' doppelganger corrected.
A stupor spreaded through your legs. Your arms had gone numb long ago. Another late realization as you looked at your limbs, expanded and trapped in the metal contraption, like a crucifix. Your legs remained separated, toes barely touching the floor and completely bare before him.
Panic rose as he placed a white gloved and immaculate hand on your cheek. Miguel was always speaking about the variants of the villains that he often forgot to mention about his own.
This one in particular was one to be extremely wary of. Dr. Michael Stone, acknowledged son of Tyler Stone, the CEO of Alchemax. A scientist obsessed with the spider DNA his team had recollected many years ago.
"Dr. Michael Stone, Mike for the friends."
He cupped your face and kissed you deeply. Tongue sweeping on your trembling mouth, taking a taste of you. He let you go with an appreciative hum. His thumbs pressed on your now glistening lips to pry them open, taking a glance on your teeth. Your breath fanned his face as he explored your mouth with his thumbs initially.
"Healthy breath and teeth, no fangs, sadly" the doctor mumbled to himself while catching your tongue in between his thumb and index finger, pulling it enough to examinate it's length.
You whimpered at the pain. Saliva escaping your mouth, which he collected quickly in a little glass vial. His fingers typed in the data in a holo-pad that materialized next to him.
His face was deranged, a soft blush crept on his sharp cheeks. He had stumbled upon a gold mine.
The drowsiness had left your body entirely, fear and nausea replacing it. Modesty or shame weren't in Michael's vocabulary. Nipples perked at the cool air that invaded the lab.
He brought a little table with several pieces of something he had been tinkering with.
"Your little contraption seems something too advanced for people in your world. Sadly the damage is too great to salvage something."
He displayed the now burnt pieces of the watch, pieces you supposed were the core of its functioning.
"For how long have you been a mutant?"
"Years." Voice meek, he nodded as he kept typing away, without looking much your direction, too deep in the screen and the data displaying on it.
"Is there any others like me?"
You gulped. Your brief silence had been enough answer for him.
"I see." His grin turned into a devious chuckle, "I suppose there is one of me that is like you, isn't it?"
Upon hearing no answer of you, he pressed a button, where a sudden electricity jolt coursed through your body. Earning him a pained yelp from you.
"I don't appreciate your silence, cariño. Now, when was the last time your period came?"
Your body lingered in unpleasant waves of the shocking aftermath. Soft breaths turned into short and shallow pants, anger rising again.
"I don't remember" You admitted curtly and uncomfortable by the direction the interrogation was taking course.
"Have you had children before?"
The question made you blink stupidly at him while sneered at your reaction and cleared his throat. Keeping at bay the ominous thoughts already forming in his wicked brain.
"N-No." You mumbled and his lips pursed in a wolfish grin it sent an ill feeling through your chest. Your brain's danger alarms flared, begging you to run away as fast as you could. But how such thing would be achieved when you were nearly T qposing, naked, before a man that had everything but good intentions with you.
"There's always a first." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. The hidden promise in his words had you struggling against your prison but it stopped as he sent another electric jolt through your body.
You groaned both painfully and annoyed in between raged pants.
"Let me go! " He could only cackle at your waning order.
"But why would I do such thing, cariño?" His fingers tracing the slope of your jaw, "Not when I have found the perfect vessel for my lineage to develop."
Heart thumped wildly on your chest, threatening to escape up your throat.
"P-Please, let me go."
Something dern recoiled in his eyes, pleading was futile, even though he loved the way you pronounced such words.
"Can't do. In fact, I think production should start right away."
He beamed and your heart sunk. Hopefully Miguel caught your signal before the gizmo was broken for good. Attention snapping on a pair of eyes that danced around your body. He licked his lips while loosening his tie. His glasses were removed.
Your chest heaved with anxiety, but he kneeled before you, pushing your outer folds away to reach the forbidden prize he was set in devouring, your clit. It twitched and contracted when his thumb stroked it softly. Michael didn't waste time and sunk himself between your thighs.
"N-No!" You panted while trying to squeeze his head away from your thighs, but his grip was steely. His tongue assaulted your cunt with such intensity it had you clenching your jaw and panting within seconds.
Strong and moist muscle dribbled down your pussy, teasing around your quivering hole. His plump lips captured your little nub of nerves in between them, to then apply pressure within strong sucking motions. Your hips bucked, nearly melting at the powerful sensations the scientist dragged you to.
The slick of your labia increased making his motions smoother, vicious and wet. You could feel him resting his head on your lower belly as his mouth ate you like a starved man. A lap here, a dribbling up and down there and it had your mouth gaping open.
"Fuck" You tried to lurch forward but the upper restrictions on your limbs could only allow much movement. Your head heavy with lust blown and fearful thoughts, making it loll side to side, shaking off the pleasure that crawled all the way up, trying to fog your judgment completely.
The goal however was accomplished when his tongue delved in your hole, fucking it with such expertise it had your breath slurred and blown from your lungs.
His moist muscle curled, coiled and slurped at your cunt. Twirling and gathering your juices in his mouth. As dangerous as he was, Michael seemed a connoisseur of the female anatomy. And he ate like a starved man, like his life and investigation depended on it.
Your head was thrown back, just like your eyes in their sockets. Breaths turned erratic when his hands squeezed the round of your breast. Maneuvering your perky nipples a little too rough. He pinched, pulled and slapped them, matching the merciless pace of his assailant lips.
Teeth ground together, jaw clenched and trapping in the moans he rightfully had earned. Your hands managed to fist in the admist of the numbness they had been subdued to.
His tongue ventured deeper with moist and gulping movements, the tip of his nose buried in your pubic mound, keeping you in place from squirming too much, chasing that relief that would bring you a bit of peace to your tortured cunt. Heat pooled in his mouth, pressure tightening, edging you to an endless and dangerous spiral of tempting corruption.
A strangled whine came off your throat as he stopped and looked up at you. Darkened pupils wide, absorbing the red iris upon the sight of you.
Perfect, beatific even.
You were the perfect vessel for him. Lips flushed in need, exhaling the stimulation out of your system. A rapturous expression on your face, like a virgin that had been worshipped, and he was the chosen one to corrupt such grimace. His tie was removed completely and tossed somewhere.
With a tap of the holo-pad, your restrains were loosened, and you fell on the floor with a thud. A little groan as your body made contact with the cold tiles, blood rushing back to your limbs, leaving a prickling sensation all the way down your hands, awakening them.
As much as you hated to admit that you had enjoyed it, the rational side of you took control again, urging you to an attempt of escape while you crawled on your fours. Your suit had been discarded on one of the trash bins.
A strong hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you towards him, wobbly and feeble legs trembled at the forced attempt of standing up, only for your torso to be slammed against a nearby metal table. Air knocking out of your lungs with a 'oomph'
"You are going nowhere."
Despite the overall nerd-ish look, he was strong. Strong and big enough to pin your arms effortlessly before you, to then place a pair of metallic hoops on your wrist that instantly adhered at the table. Magnetic handcuffs, of course.
Breast flattened against the metal, unruly strands of hair obscured your sight, his agitated breath fanning over the crook of your neck. Rear was positioned in the perfect pose to expose both your holes. Pussy glistening with a mix of his saliva and your own slick.
"Marvelous. We are about to create the Opus Magna of my investigation. Aren't you excited, bonita?"
Your ears perked ominously at the unbuckling and fumbling of his pants.
"You have no idea how long I've awaited for a chance like this." His flushed tip rubbed between your folds, coating himself before aligning to your drenched hole. He tittered while taking a vice like grip on your hips and with a sudden motion, he buried inch by inch inside your gummy and sticky walls.
"Miguel!" You cried as he sheathed to the hilt, stretching you a bit past your limits. Fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled back with force. Granting him a pathetic yelp from you.
"Michael." He growled into your ear, "I am no bound by weaknesses unlike that defective copy of mines. But don't you worry..."
His tone venomous, "I'll make you learn my name one way or another." He slid a hand around your neck and squeezed a whimper out of you, "You're here to stay after all."
Callous fingers slid back to your hips, groping and grounding himself before he pushed in. A strangled moan came before air was cut short again by his firm and deep thrusting, allowing you to adjust enough to his girth. It was scary how perfect he fit inside, reinforcing his belief you were made specially for him and the explosion had been the catalyst for his plan to build a superior form of being, set in track.
Not only had he been granted a subject he had been chasing for nearly a decade, but now, he couldn't just study you, but also impregnate you. And what a better coincidence when you were reaching your most fertile days. Or so the data had dictated, and data didn't lie.
"With me." A deep cackle erupted from his mouth as an onslaught of merciless thrust were delivered between your supple and plump glutes, making them jiggle at his rutting.
A garbled and shaky moan escaped your lips, eyes wide at the core shaking pace he had settled. Toes curled and your hands fisted against the metallic handcuffs, trying to anchor yourself once more to something as the table creaked violently underneath both. The pressure on your clit increased as his balls slapped it, sending jolts through your body.
Your cunt received him with an obsence slurp, swallowing him whole over and over, hole moulded to his thick shaft, leaving you empty every time he slid out, only to be refilled impossibly deep with a pitiless plow.
You were a mewling and wailing mess underneath his formidable frame. Torso rock hard, just like the throbbing cock inside your snug and drenched pussy.
The room and you were the only witnesses of his borderline animalistic growls and snarls, set into his goal to fill you to the brim the times he saw it fit. After all, no experiment was successful without trial and error.
All you could hear was the rough slapping of your flesh melding together in a rough display of power where he indisputably had the upper hand.
Fire licked at every inch of your skin, tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, blurring your sight with overstimulation. He gave you no time to properly breath, too lost in wrecking your cunt to care, enraptured in the thrill your flesh offered him.
A firm slap on your jiggling ass granted him a choked wail, one of the few indicators you still remained conscious and holding it together. He frowned.
It wasn't enough, he wanted nothing more than your ruin. Having you subdued to him, both in mind and body. Stubborn nature couldn't just leave you fucked physically. The need to possess you in all it's wholeness took over him. You'd be his, and if he had to face his counterpart to keep you by his side, then so be it.
Michael stilled for a moment, giving you precious seconds to catch a much needed breath. He removed the lab coat and shirt, exposing his sweaty and well sculpted torso. Your legs trembled, your brain buzzed with all sort of sensations, the metal fogged with every deep breath you gave against it, if it wasn't for the restrains in your wrist, you'd certainly be on the floor, since your legs were giving up in supporting you.
A little drool streak escaped the corner of your lips, connecting to the space underneath you. Your hair was pulled back with a mild yank, forcing your spine to arch. The Fibonacci sequence would draw perfectly in the curvature of your flexible spine. One of the many perks of being a spiderwoman.
His frame swallowed you once more as he propped your right thigh on the table, granting him more access to delve in deeper into you.
" Ohmygod" you howled at how full and deep your insides were. He smirked at your words, "I can't... I can't-"
"You are more than capable of taking me, pequeña." A deep thrust and he had you sobbing, "Don't disappoint me now."
He rasped in blown inhales.
Your brain was melting just like your body. Instead of unceasing and swift slaps of flesh, steady and rhythmic plunges filled in the void space. Your mouth did nothing but nonsensical gabbling. Occasionally praising him with a coherent lewd curse or a whine.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. The weight of his frame pressing against you, slotting perfectly on your back. His hips dug into yours remorselessly, then you felt his arm hooking underneath your lower belly in a possessive embrace, letting the once punished breasts to bounce freely as he pounded relentlessly into you.
The second he skimmed on your tender skin, your body went taut and your brain shut off for a second, overheated by the mind shattering orgasm crashing over you. Only then your body was allowed to go limp on his arms, but that didn't stop him from giving a few more core shaking thrusts before emptying himself inside you. Flooding your womb with his hot load.
"Mi...Michael-" You croaked almost imperceptibly at the canvas he was making out of your insides.
Oh the joy of knowing he'd have a superior offspring made his wicked brain tingle. A malicious laugh escaped him upon admiring your current state. Fucked out and full of him, to the brim like he had promised. Michael Stone was a man of word.
When he had poured the last drop of cum inside, he pulled out to pick himself up. Underwear and pants secured back on his waist. His discarded lab coat covered his upper frame once more, body too heated to keep adding layers of clothing. He released the handcuffs off your wrist and caught you before your body slumped on the floor.
He rewarded your outlasting with a deep yet brief smooch, which you recoiled from. It didn't matter. You'd learn to tolerate his presence soon enough.
His arms carried you like a ragdoll. A doll that somehow still refused to be tamed, adding more dry bones to the raging obsession fire. You struggled from his grip but he didn't budge, a cruel laugh met you instead as he waltzed you to an empty room. Naked with jelly-like legs that didn't cooperate, angry and fearful and powerless.
He tossed you onto the bed and marched back towards the entrance. Proud of your lack of strength to retaliate and cunt full of his cum. His seed would do it's job soon enough. He had waited years, a bit more won't hurt him.
The thought of your belly rounding up with his child made his deep gaze to lock on you over his shoulder for a moment.
"Welcome to my world, querida." His cheeks spreaded in a wicked smirk before disappearing into the light, locking you out from freedom and hope.
Darkness drowned you, like his obsession. Dr. Michael Stone had finally achieved a breakout in his investigation. And he had no intentions of letting you go. Not until you produced the many heirs he had in mind.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#Miguelverse#miguel o'hara smut#Spiderman 2099 smut#atsv smut#t writes✨#Michael Stone AU#dark!miguel o'hara
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